#i have an open door policy too to let people come take stuff without needing to ask

[lecliss]

You know, I may not know why people join coop in Genshin and just follow you around while you do normal stuff, but at the very least I've made a few friends in the process and I'm pretty sure it's mostly because I actually wait for people to catch up to me and I turn around and jump so they can see me and I go back to them if they're too far behind and stuff like that. Like, is that not normal to do??

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 2)

Lucifer/Reader

Rated E for the smex coming next chapter I SWEAR. ((Also there will not be any non-con in this fic, so please don’t worry. You’ll see when you read.))

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

Tag Requests: @loslox, @for-hearthand-home, @navierkalani

‘The worst thing they could be are swingers.’

Your heart was racing, and you felt ridiculous for how uppity you felt at the prospect of having dinner with your two elderly neighbors. 

Normally, meeting new people would cause a healthy amount of anxiety in you. You’d grown up into a recluse and upholding social niceties took most of your energy. It was even worse to be in their home, and among people that you likely did not have much in common with. 

These were personal reassurances that you told yourself after denying the first invitation for dinner with the Farrows. The guilt you felt, paired with the subsequent relief of not having to spend more than five minutes with your chatty neighbor, stirred an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

Of course you’d been unable to stop thinking about what a wretch you were, how karma was going to bite you on the ass for denying an old couple some company. 

And oh Karma did come back to bite you. Hard. 

You felt like you were hanging by a thread at work. Three weeks into the job and you’d already been reprimanded. Even the memory of your supervisor looking down her nose at you from the other side of her desk made your eyes water. 

“We have a ‘three strikes’ policy here. I’m afraid this will count as your first.”

Never having been fired from a job notwithstanding, you felt like the idiot your parents always purported you to be. 

If you’d have just stayed in your hometown, living off your parents’ good graces and kept your head down, instead of prancing out the door as if you had self-respect and no need for a safety net… 

Maybe things wouldn’t be so dire. 

Maybe you wouldn’t be on the verge of having a panic attack at this very moment, feeling the anxiety and restlessness from declining the previous invitation tenfold. 

With a deep breath in and out, you crossed the hall with the hesitance of a mouse approaching a snap-trap. You knocked on the door to Unit 606 with a shaking hand.

There was a moment left to blanch at the realization that you hadn’t brought anything with you. Like the shittiest, most thoughtless guest ever.

——

“You made it!” Mrs. Farrow held her arms out dramatically. “Come in! Come in! You’re right on time! Oh and you look lovely dear!”

“Thanks.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks as the door closed behind you. 

The layout of the apartment was a mirror image to yours, but you were overwhelmed by just how much stuff had taken up the space. From the kitchen to the living room, the apartment was brimming with kaleidoscopic color. Antique statuettes of unknown deities, handcrafted vases and sculptures in-set with gems and gold filigree, expertly framed posters of old Hollywood, and Persian rugs beneath well-worn furniture were visible from just a cursory glance. 

It distracted you from the unusually bitter, earthy smell that assaulted you upon entering. 

“Wow,” You said in genuine awe. “Your home is lovely.” 

“Aw, you’re too kind sweetheart. Too kind. Here, let me take your shawl - we’ll hang it up on the rack here, see.” She took your cardigan and placed it on an old hat stand before steering you out to the living room by the back of your shoulders.

There was a man sitting in a leather armchair adjacent to the couch. He was wearing a tweed jacket and his silver-blond hair had been combed back finely to show a pale, wrinkled face and eyes so dark they shone almost black in the lowlight. 

He looked at you with interest once you’d finally caught onto his presence, and opened his mouth to speak.

‘Quack!’ 

“Lou!” You laughed as the duck came racing over on its little legs. 

Without delay, the bird climbed onto your flats with an impatient flap of its wings, trying to balance while looking up at you adoringly. 

You couldn’t help but reach down and pat his little head, murmuring ‘hellos’ and ‘how you doing buddy?’ softly and sweetly. 

The man opposite you both smirked. “My wife was right. He’s quite taken with you.” 

“I’m always right!” Mrs. Farrow called out from the kitchen. 

You looked to the kitchen and back to, presumably, Mr. Farrow, an uncertain smile on your lips. 

“Welcome to our home.” The elder man’s voice was almost hypnotically deep. His hand was outstretched and waiting. “Please excuse me for not greeting you properly. When you get to be as old as I am, your body does everything it can to make you stay put in one place.” 

You shook your head. “Oh no, please don’t worry about it! I understand.” 

Mr. Farrow’s smirk seemed to soften as you spoke. 

“Please make yourself comfortable, my dear.” When he gestured to the couch, you awkwardly shuffled to sit down. Lou was right on your heels, loathe to spend even a second without your warmth. 

The duck ended up snuggled on your lap after begging to be lifted as you sank into the plush sofa. And you were grateful, hugging Lou to you gently as if he were a plush toy. 

It helped take your mind away from that spine-tingling feeling when it made a comeback — the way Mr. Farrow’s eyes glittered when he looked at you and his duck. 

‘Oh god, they probably are swingers. And they lure in their targets with this crazy well-trained duck.’ You thought, punching yourself in the face mentally. ‘And you fell for it. Walked right into their den of debauchery. You stupid bitch.’ 

“Here’s some water, honey. We’ll save the stronger stuff for dinner.” You jumped in your seat when Mrs. Farrow appeared at your side, setting a glass of ice water down on the end table beside you. 

You reached for the glass as its contents sloshed over the edge. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Farrow.” 

Mrs. Farrow beamed. 

“What did I tell ya, Warren? Isn’t she lovely? Just a peach. Lou is smitten.” She patted your shoulder. “And it’s Cassie, honey. Call me Cass.”

“You were right, Cass.” Warren Farrow intoned. 

He took on a conspiratorial tone as he addressed you once more. “You must know, my wife hasn’t stopped talking about you since you met the other day. I wondered if she was preparing us for a new roommate.” 

Heat flooded your face for the second time. “Aw.”

“Oh poo, as if you wouldn’a done the same.” Mrs. Farrow sniffed derisively. “Dinner in 5 minutes!”

Her exit left room for you to start a conversation, but you couldn’t find it in you to say anything. Mr. Farrow kept staring, smiling, which made you stroke Lou’s feathers for comfort that much more. 

The silence lasted a little while, save for the clinking, crackling, thudding from the kitchen dining room. Aside from catering to Lou, you surveyed your surroundings in an effort to avoid bouncing your legs.

The Farrows didn’t have a TV, only a large fireplace that they’d positioned their furniture around. There were displays on either side of the grate. On one stood an oversized chalice with intricate, swirling patterns. The other had a statuette of a goat-headed figure sitting crisscrossed on a throne, one arm poised to reach out to the sky.

“Baphomet.” 

You turned from the sight, head swiveling to face your human companion. He was eying you keenly again. 

“O-oh, the statue is…?”

Warren nodded. “Baphomet. Conceived as a false god around the time of the crusades. Most people see him as a depiction of Satan these days.” 

The association wasn’t too far-fetched, you figured with another look at the figure. Its goat-head and large horns were the most eye-catching thing about it. 

“I apologize if the sight upsets you, dear. I hadn’t thought to remove it before your arrival.” 

“Oh no, please. It’s alright.” You said. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s very interesting.” 

The rumbling hum at your side seemed to signal approval, or maybe general geniality with your neutral response. “Are you religious by chance?”

You turned to Warren again. 

“Ah, no.” You replied apologetically. “I grew up in a Christian area, but I was never very involved with the church.” 

Warren nodded. “That’s just as well. The institution and its practices can be stifling. I was never very involved with it myself.” 

“Religious artifacts have always been fascinating to me, however. There’s no shortage of temples and synagogues in this world.” 

“Have you been to many? For the history?” You were genuinely curious. 

The old man nodded again, stately and dignified even as he puffed up in his armchair like a peacock. “Cass and I are seasoned travelers. We’ve been to all 7 continents at least twice, seen the wonders of the world from the Hindu shrines in Malaysia to St. Basil’s Cathedral. I have a particular fondness for those countries surrounding the Mediterranean Sea. I was able to convince Cassie another trip to Rome wouldn’t put us in the poor house last year.” 

Your little huff of laughter was sincere, though the idea of traveling to Rome - or anyplace outside of the familiar - sounded amazing. “I’d love to be able to do that.” 

Warren’s head tilted to one side. “You’re quite young, I’m sure you’ll get the chance if you haven’t already.” 

“Sure.” You scoffed before immediately falling into contrition. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me —”

“Dinner time!”

Mrs. Farrow hollered from the kitchen, stopping you from trying to come up with a suitable excuse for yourself. 

Luckily, Mr. Farrow chuckled good-naturedly. He rose from his chair stiffly, legs visibly straining. “No need to apologize, my dear. But we best get going before the Missus comes out and drags us by our ears.”

——

All things considered, the dinner was perfectly fine. 

The jitters never left your frame, but you had chalked that up to a simple byproduct of your skittish nature. The red wine that Cass had insisted upon you made you feel warm and solid, at least. 

As did the fact that Cassie Farrow could hold entire conversations all on her own with very little effort or input from yourself. 

“You got a boyfriend, honey? Or girlfriend? No shame in that at all. We may be old but by no means bigoted. We’ve been all over the place, seen so many things - what’s natural to you and me could be the furthest from, in certain places. Isn’t that right, Warren?”

“Men in Ancient Greece often had relationships with other men.” Warren replied. “Royals in Europe had extramarital affairs with different sexes. It was all about keeping the bloodline pure, but romance was a different thing altogether.” 

“I haven’t dated in a while, actually.” You said. “It’s not been a priority.” 

Cassie nodded, exuberant as she drank from her wine glass. “That’s good too! Plenty of independent women these days! It’s about time, I say.” 

‘Quack quack’

Lou was beside you, red eyes locked in as he gazed upon you at the dining table. It made you giggle.

“Mm!” Cassie had a spastic moment. “I almost forgot!” 

The chair lurched out from under the old woman as she rose and scuttled out of the room. It left you blinking, and out of the corner of your eye you saw that same smirk on Warren’s face before his wife had returned. 

She had a small wicker basket in her arms. 

“This is for you, honey. Housewarming present from your kooky neighbors across the hall.” 

As she drew nearer, you caught a glimpse of the contents, some of which shone beneath the light of the overhead chandelier. 

“Thank you! You really didn’t have to.” The basket was pressed into your arms and Cassie was back in her seat before you’d finished your sentence. 

“Nonsense. It’s the least we could do. I still can’t believe no one welcomed you for a whole week!” 

The basket was lined with shredded filler, and nestled in between were little gemstones and crystals.

“There’s jade and ruby in there, and I believe there’s moonstone as well.” Mr. Farrow recalled. “Is that it, Cass?”

“Yes, yes, and carnelian too. It’s all scattered about there, with the Scrabble and the socks and the hand cream and oh!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Forgive us honey, we saw that little rubber duck and just had to get it for you.” 

There was a little rubber duck. It was a novelty type, with a tiny red jacket and a tiny black top hat. 

“It’s a carnival barker. No, it’s something like that. It’s on the tip of my tongue.” Your nose scrunched in thought. “Oh, a circus ringmaster!” 

“Exactly! See, what’d I tell you, Warren? She loves it!” 

“I believe I was the one who suggested it.” His voice carried through the otherwise silent dining room. 

“Oh well maybe it was, so what. She likes it. Don’t you, honey?”

“Yes, but…” You felt funny again. Tingly. “This is too much. Really. You’re both so kind but I can’t accept this.” 

A hand laid gently on your shoulder and you looked up at a frowning Warren Farrow. “It’s no trouble at all, my dear.” 

“The cost must’ve —”

“No cost, really. Gemstones and crystals are quite popular these days. You can find them all over. And the little trinkets are just the same. Given to you in good faith of course.” He patted your shoulder gently. 

You swallowed, eyes once again roving over the little mundane treasures. Silken feathers brushed against your ankle under the table and you met those red eyes, sparkling like the crystals in your basket. 

Lou was such a funny little thing. So expressive, he looked as if he were waiting as he stared at you. 

So funny. 

… You felt funny. 

Perhaps the anxiety from before was doubling back, just like that prickling sensation. It was less of a tingle and more a shiver or chill as you sat there. 

“I think it’s about time for dessert, don’t you?” Mrs. Farrow was saying somewhere far away. “You like chocolate, sweetheart? I made mousse, all fancy-like. It’s not as fancy as the kind you get at that restaurant downtown, the Ivy, but they’ve got fancy ingredients and such…” 

Reaching up to wipe the sheen of sweat from your forehead, you felt heat coming off from between your temples. With a shaky breath, you slumped down in your seat. 

The basket was gone. 

Your chair was scraping against the wooden floor as it was pulled out from the table. 

“Are you feeling alright, my dear?”

Wrinkled hands swept the hair from your face as your eyes rolled in their sockets. Words couldn’t get past the cotton-dry feeling in your throat. 

“It’s the wine, the wine. Said she’s not much of a drinker, it has to be the wine.” 

Cass’s voice was dampened and thick, like it was trapped underwater. 

Or perhaps you were trapped. Your head was spinning, limbs heavy as if you were a puppet sans strings. You had to be picked up from under your arms like a toddler and pulled upright. 

The next second you were walking through your neighbors’ kitchen, the door held open for you. 

“Maybe we oughta call a doctor? Honey, can you hear me?”

“I… yes. I can hear you.” It felt like an Olympic feat, but you spoke clearly. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s happening.”

You stumbled against the wall and strong arms caught you when your knees buckled. It was Mr. Farrow allowing you to lean on him, solid as a rock. 

“Cass is right, you had quite a bit of wine.” He said. Another pat to your shoulder.

Did you? You could’ve sworn it was just a glass. 

Your apartment was barren and blank, the smell of laundry comforting against the memory of that earthy incense smell. 

“Get some rest, honey. We’re right across the hall.” 

“Thank you.” You breathed, lying on your sofa bed. “Again, I’m very sorry. Thank you for the welcome.” 

“Oh no, thank you.” 

——

When you opened your eyes next, you were shrouded in darkness. The outline of your entertainment system was in front of you, and the kitchen at your right. 

It was raining outside; little raindrops smattering against the glass. The sound was normal, no longer muffled until you were straining to hear it. 

‘Well that’s good.’ 

The heavy feeling in your arms was still present. 

‘That’s not so good.’

You felt perfectly sane and hysterical at the same time. It was like being caught in the eye of a storm. The danger had abated momentarily, but would begin again shortly. 

Your door opened, and in your peripheral you saw a shadow cut across the wall as a new figure emerged from the hall. 

You squinted in the dark. ‘Lou?’ 

The duck’s silhouette stilled as if you’d spoken aloud. You could feel something shift in the air, tension breaking through to your mind when it could not seize your body. 

That shift grew stronger, sucking in the air around it until a dazzling flash and crack of light blinded you. 

Lou’s shadow was gone. Or… it had changed. The shadow on the wall wasn’t a duck anymore it was… 

Your blood ran cold as the man stepped into your apartment and let the door close behind him. 

“Hello there!”

[atlafan]

Open Door Policy - One Shot

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

Warnings: angst, fluff, and smut! 

Words: 21.5K 

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

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

“Dr. Styles.” Y/N groans.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes.” She smiles back at him.

“Come on in, have a seat.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

“Looks at the exact same.”

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“And I was your professor?”

“Yes, Dr. Styles.”

He plucks his fingers over his lips.

“I feel bad for not remembering you.”

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

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

“Yeah.” She blushes.

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

“It’s alright, I recovered.”

“Clearly.” He smiles.

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

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

“That would be great, thank you.”

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

“You can take that off, you know?”

“What?”

“Your blazer.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

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

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

“It’s fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You work at Bento’s?”

“Yeah.”

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

“I work in the back as a baker.”

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

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

“I did?”

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

“Ah, well, glad I could help.”

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he remember you?” Nessa asks.

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

“Why is that embarrassing?” Charlotte asks.

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

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

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

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

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

“You two are the worst.” She groans.

//

“Hey, Y/N!”

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, uh, it was pretty easy.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“He’s gonna fuck you.”

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

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

//

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

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

“Morning, Y/N, are you excited?”

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

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

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

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

“Alright.”

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

“Thanks, that’s a really good tip.”

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

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

“Brilliant.” He says to her.

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

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

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

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

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

“Communication.”

“Undecided.”

“IT.”

“Psychology.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When does your next class start?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm?” She grunts.

“Gotta wake up, love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you think I’m home more?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m so sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not at all.”

“At least let me pay you.”

“No way.”

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

//

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

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

“Oh stop.” Y/N nudges her.

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

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

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

Y/N’s eyes grow wide.

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

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

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

Y/N: of course!

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it okay that I used your Netflix?”

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Harry.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Morning.” Harry says.

“Morning.” She pats Max’s head.

“Sleep alright?”

“Mhm, thank you.”

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

“Sure, I could eat.” She smiles.

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

“Eggs and toast alright?”

“Sounds great.”

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

“You working at Bento’s today?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sugar?”

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

“Mm, this is delicious, thank you.”

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

“Do you have to go to campus today?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You were?” He frowns.

“You’re a little intimidating.”

“I don’t mean to be.”

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

“Thanks again for watching him.”

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

“See you, have a good weekend, love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You got it.”

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

“Opening a tab tonight?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They could be college students.” Louis says.

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s got a point, Har.” Louis says.

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

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

“It’s not happening.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Doing what?” Charlotte asks nervously.

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

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

“Oh, am I? Who is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

“Oh, you do?” Louis smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi.” He says.

“Hi.”

“Did my friend bother you?”

“Not at all…he was very nice.”

Harry nods and sips from his drink.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

“Really?!”

“Mhm.”

“Should I go talk to him?”

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

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

“Wing-man to the rescue, I’m on it.”

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

“What?”

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“Do what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And then you made me breakfast.”

“As an extra thank you.”

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

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

“Where is he anyways?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yup.” He takes a swig of his beer.

“Why?!”

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

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

“I didn’t say that.”

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

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

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

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

“What did you just say to me?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t talk to me like that, Y/N.”

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He…talks about me?”

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

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

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

“How long have you been waiting out here?”

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

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

“When then?”

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

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

“Depends, what’s on the menu?”

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

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

“Alright, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he give you his number?”

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

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

“What?”

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

“Hi.”

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

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

“Come, sit, the food’s ready.”

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

“This looks good, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

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

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

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

“You would have?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

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

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

“We are?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s alright.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Correct.”

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

“Yes.”

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

“What are you saying exactly?”

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

“Yeah, it was good. You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, good!”

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

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

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

“Is it based off of Love, Simon?”

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

“Sure, we could watch that.”

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

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

“Mm, this is tasty, what is it?”

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

“It’s perfect, thank you.”

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

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

“S’alright, he keeps me pretty warm.”

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

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

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

“Now who’s being annoying?”

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

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

“Pizza would be perfect, thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm?” He grunts, clearly out of it.

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

“Get in.” He mumbles.

“Really, are you sure? Because I-“

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did, didn’t I…”

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

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

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

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

“But you will be again.”

“Because you wanted me to be.”

He looks at her and pouts.

“We’ll see each other more this way.”

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

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

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

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

“We could be discrete.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

“But I could-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You, um, you didn’t, I made them.”

“From scratch?”

“Well, yeah.”

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

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

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

“Harry.” She breathes against his lips.

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

“Can I?”

“Yes.”

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

“Are you not wearing any knickers?”

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

“Jesus Christ.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harry…” She watches him sit down.

“What?”

“Don’t you want to-“

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

“Okay.”

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

“You really made this from scratch?”

“Yeah, I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s delicious.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m on the pill.”

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

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

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

“Yes.” She whines. “Please.”

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

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

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

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

“Are you comfortable?”

“Could you maybe just hold my leg up?”

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

“Gonna come again for me?”

“Yes, fuck, I’m almost there, Harry!”

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

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

“Nope.” She smiles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you like ice skating?”

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

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

“I’d love it.”

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“What will I be then?”

“My girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?” Y/N asks.

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

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

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

“Course, mate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gonna let me lick it, angel?”

“Is that what you want?”

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

“How did-“

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

“What about it?” Harry chuckles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal.” She smiles.

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

//

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

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

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

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

“I love you, too.”

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

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

“Hey, no need to cry, darling.”

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you serious?!” He perks up.

“Yes.” She chuckles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harry…” She whines.

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

“You could have FaceTimed me.”

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

“You can stay.”

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

“I love you too.”

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you going to miss the girls?”

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

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

“I’m really proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you too, babe.”

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You did it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, what about me?” He pouts.

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

[heliosthegriffin]

Class of One - Interlude 1: Around the World

AN: Yeah, finally got off my ass and wrote this, who ever said that writing other characters helped with writers block, was a liar, till I proved them right. Because, I had this sitting in google docs about a month after I got bored with it, came back to it, and found the block gone.

Anyway, no Jaune this chapter, just other people moving and doing stuff related to Jaune, and setting up a couple plot threads hear and there.

But, well get the festival started with his shenanigans next chapter.

-----

In Vale

-----

Thomas Rivers was on top of the world, a weight lifted from his back, a thorn removed from his side, to put it simply, he was truly relieved. 

As Black had come through on his word.

At noon, the assassin had sent word that he was in position to take out the target, then two hours later the remains of the Automated Ferry that Arc was taking had washed up, and he was declared missing, followed a message to his Scroll that simply and innocuous read 

‘Black in a second,’

The code phrase that they had decided upon to let him know when the job was done.

Rivers had been so relieved that he nearly passed from his mortal body in that second.

But, Thomas had learned from his past few months how precious time was, he never knew when chance would turn a breeze into a typhoon!

He immediately started calling his contacts, all his remaining supporters and allies, friends and family, he was no longer going out without a fight against that old bastard Ozpin! 

Thomas hadn’t yet served his full term yet, he still had time to regain popularity and respect from the masses, his popularity might be at an all time low, but his family had brand recognition, they might be corrupt, but they have a history of serving Vale.

He needed to leverage that, and make his idiot comrade Jeremy do so too and work together to regain they’re power they’ve lost of the last year, also make sure he doesn’t go running off into the wilderness with a PMC to take over a village, molesting the women and children.

The idiot could do that in Vale if he played his cards right.

They had everything to regain, they’re position, money, influence, and power! With Arc gone, the people will have a hole in their hearts, one they could fill by acting humanitarian! 

Once that happened, Ozpin would never be able to remove them, and it would only be a matter of time till they were able to refill the council back with supporters.

Putting things back to business as usual, only this time, Thomas would make sure once Ozpin was dead, that Beacon was under Council control.

… But, on the off chance his plan failed, Thomas had another plan, a simple but cunning one, make Ozpin pay for each inch of ground he wanted.

If Thomas couldn’t get his power back, he was going to be the most stubborn, unhelpful, veto-happy councilman in Vale’s history, and he’d make Jeremy help. 

They’d work together, to make sure unless Ozpin wanted projects to drag on for years, he had to have to negotiate with him. Make concessions to him, and sure, it was scorched earth policy, but by the time he was out of the council he’d have gotten enough money for him and Jeremy, and they’re family, to relocate in Mistral and start over again.

Or, maybe he’d just call Ozpin and cut to the chase tell him how much money he wanted in exchange for him resigning from the council that could work too.

‘Bzzt’

Thomas hummed to himself, as he looked at the message from Jeremy, he wanted to talk and had invited him over.

Naturally, Thomas accepted.

It was a simple matter being driven over, his bodyguards stationed to protect him.

Then being led into his comrades mansion, walking up the stairs to the study, having the guards wait outside, opening the door-

“Hello, Mr. Rivers.” Ozpin greeted him with a smile, leaning against Jeremy’s mahogany desk, cane in hand. A splash of blood on the wall behind him, and his comrade was nowhere to be seen, but the window was open. “Carry to have a conversation? The night is young and ripe and I’d hate to spend it by myself.”

Thomas spun himself around, running to the door. 

Ozpin smirked, hiding it behind a cup of tea, tapping Long Memory down once.

The door shut, locked. 

Thomas ran nose first into it, cracking it, blood running down his face as he fell to the hardwood floor.

“Oh, my peer, don’t bleed on the floor,” The Headmaster told him politely. “Stand up like a man of your status should.” Thomas trembled and shot up, pounding against the door, “HELP! GUARDS GUARDS-” 

‘Klick’ came with a swift finger snap.

Thomas screamed, but no sound came out.

“Oh, don’t bring in those poor men, I’d hate to bother them.” Ozpin stood up, almost gliding across the floor to the panicking Thomas. “Now, how about we have a conversation like adults?” He said looking Thomas in the eyes.

The headmaster's eyes shocked him into place. Ozpins, well known for his warm brown eyes, brimming with paternal warmth and mystery, was showing Thomas a sight few had seen and lived. Apathetic and cold-blooded eyes, that looked at the councilman as though he wasn’t human at all, as though he was but an uncooperative puzzle piece to the headmaster. Staring past Thomas this second, into the possible uses Ozpin could find for him, like he was examining a tool that would soon break and maximizing the workload it could be used for, until it broke.

“Will you talk like an adult?”

Thomas nodded.

Ozpin snapped his fingers, and Thomas realized he could speak again. “Why are you here? Where is Jeremy?!”

Ozpin smiled. “My associate is having words with him at the moment, he found some… people in the basement, and my associate could not tolerate the acts performed upon them. Don’t, worry he will return alive.” Ozpin then pulled out a Scroll. “As for why I am here?” If the headmaster’s eyes had been cold, his voice held the touch of the graveyard. “I don’t appreciate having my student targeted by a professional assassin.”

“You know?” Thomas whispered.

“Know?” Ozpin chuckled. “Yes, I know. Mr. Arc, and the young Mr. Black explained everything about what happened this afternoon. Though, I had my suspicions.”

“Arc is alive?!”

“Quite, I am blessed to have such a capable student at my Academy,” Ozpin brandished his cane. “If he wasn’t, I would have stopped here first anyway, and we wouldn’t be having such a pleasant conversation, would we?” There was a dull light in Ozpin’s eyes.

Thomas nodded fervently. “Quite blessed, you are a very blessed Headmaster!”

“Yes, now. As to why I am here, it relates to your retirement from the Council, among other things. Don’t worry, we have all night to negotiate, but considering how much dirt you insist on burying yourself in, I find they will be rather short.”

----

Jeremy Plain and Thomas Rivers' retirement from the council the following week came as a bit of a surprise to the people of Vale, even if they were rather unpopular. But, it was ultimately met with apathy, as they had been rather unremarkable Councilors, with little to show for their time.

What did come as a surprise was they’re sudden death in the following days afterward, being found torn apart in their own home, followed by the release of several reports about they’re immense number of illegal acts, horrific and depraved. That nearly drove people into a frenzy that led to many higher ups in Vale’s legal system and justice system being exiled from Vale.

Thankfully, Headmaster Ozpin was there to help transition things along, helping liquidate the estates of the former Councilman into helping they’re victims, and funding several public projects, and putting several well known and respected men and women into the empty positions.

That they were all long-time friends of his was just a happy coincidence.

But, it was easy enough to see now, Vale had a new head, and its name was Ozpin.

------

Mistral’s Underbelly Spider Hideout

-----

“So, Marcus Black is dead, you say?” Lil’ Miss Malachite asked with measured patiences. “This is not the first time, though, the man has been presumed dead. He may not have been a powerful fighter, but he was a tricksy one. What makes you so sure?”

Junior nodded to her from the monitor screen. “Well, I’d say having his corpse in a morgue is pretty telling. But, if that isn’t enough for you, his son admitted to blowing his old man’s brains out,” Junior smirked. “In ‘Self-Defense’ of course, but this was after Jaune Arc had bisected him and what remained of the boat he was on. If that isn’t enough for you, we also fished out his legs, well, most of them, the fish had gotten to them first.”

Malachite waved her fan. “No, no, that’s good enough, I believe you. But, I hope that he stays dead. What about his son? He must be skillful, have you offered him a position?”

“I did, unfortunately, Beacon got to him first.”

Malachite smiled behind her fan. “Well, he wouldn’t be the first Huntsman to fall into our web.”

“True, but word on the street is that he is in Arc’s hands at the moment.”

“Arc? But, I thought you said he was in Beacon’s hands?”

“I did, but Beacon immediately sent him to Arc’s hands, or at least his estate. He is under house arrest there at the moment, locked tightly too. But, my contact on the inside is keeping tabs on him.”

“Ezekiel, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“How is the old goat doing?”

“Well, as far as I can see, Arc treats him well from what he’s told me. Unfortunately, he’s getting up in his years and is looking for someone to take over his web.”

“Oh, I see.” Malachite said with a smile. “I’d offer to send him an apprentice, but it seems he already has his eyes on someone.”

“Indeed, Black will be in good hands.”

“Hmm, it’d be wise for my daughters to reach out to him, I’m sure a young man like him could use a femine touch.”

Junior’s eyes darkened. “I believe that should be up to them, Ms. Malachite.”

Malachite smirked. “Hmm, we’ll see, the future is not in stone. So, tell me about Arc. Jaune Arc it was?”

-----

Outskirts of a Village in Vale’s territory

-----

Lamb’s Rest is a small, quiet settlement on the edge of Vale’s mountain range, protected on one side by high mountains and the other by dense forest. 

Pure and cold water ran off from the mountains, ensuring the settlement never had to stray to get water. 

Its population numbered only a little over four hundred, mostly consisting of single men who mined or logged, but there also exists a small, but growing number of families, who filled the settlement with a sense of hope that one day it might grow into a proper town where people could live.

But, for now it was a quiet, but peaceful settlement, that traded with it’s neighbors every couple of weeks for foodstuff, cloth, and spices, in exchange for coal, quarried rock, and hardwood. But, during the winter it wasn’t uncommon for the men, or some of the women, to go out and hunt game.

On a warm, summer evening, a man came wandering down the dusty, earthen road that ran through the forest that connected Lamb’s Rest to the rest of the world, leading to it’s only entrance, a heavily fortified wooden gate with reinforced steel, manned by several of the settlement's militia.

Two manned heavy machine guns with spotlights on either side of the gate, with sharp barb wire lining the top of the wall connecting to the gate, militiamen lazily patrolled with hunting rifles or whatever they had on hand, be it bow and arrow, or spears. It was a militia after all, the men were all volunteers.

While it wasn’t much, it was enough to protect them, scare away any wild animals, would be bandits, and the occasional Grimm. None of the Militia men were trained fighters, but they made up for it with grit and experience of living out in the wilderness.

That night, one of the men had brought they’re daughter up there, to teach her how to shoot his gun, hoping that a small Grimm would show up, to show her where to hit if she was ever to fight one.

Or maybe a small bear, to show her how to scare it off.

But, nothing so far, settling on teaching how to load and unload the rifle, along with proper firearm safety.

Of course, it was his daughter who noticed the man winding down the path to they’re settlement.

“Papa,” The young girl pulled on her father’s shirt. “There's a man! Is he a bad man? A bandit?”

The father immediately straightened up, looking to where his daughter was pointing. There was indeed a man coming down the path, alone. Which was unusual by itself, as most Valeans that lived this far out knew better than to travel alone in the Outskirts, especially so close to dark, when Grimm could see better than you could.

Was he perhaps a Huntsman? That could explain his lack of group, but that still made his presence quite odd, as he hadn’t heard any news between settlements about needing any Grimm culled. Not that it was illegal for a Huntsman to wander as he wished, just strange. Strange enough to set him on edge.

“David,” Came from one of his fellow militiamen. Francis. “You see that guy right?”

David nodded, plucking his daughter from his lap, “Honey, I think it’s time to go home. Papa will show you home to shoot another night,”

“Aw, but you promised!”

“I know, sugarcube. But, Papa has work to do, I’ll teach you tomorrow.”

“You promise?” His daughter asked with big round eyes.

David smiled. “I promise, now go home to mama, Chessa.”

His daughter nodded, and went home, but not before standing on his toes to kiss her father on his cheek.

David held a tight grip on his rifle as he stood next to Francis, who was merely armed with a bandolier of throwing knives, nothing special about them, just well made and thrown with an expert hand.

The wandering man was nearly to the gate now, walking a slowly, but consistent step, that set his nerve alight.

Francis looked at David out of the corner of his eye. “Are you getting bad vibes too?”

David nodded. “Yeah, I don’t like this.”

Finally, the man stopped in front of the gate. Both heavy machine guns and they’re spotlights centered on the stranger, and the miltia’s leader, Rigor, called out to him.

“What is your business stranger?”

The man, at least David thought he was a man, said nothing for a moment. 

Giving David a good few moments to examine the stranger. A tall person, more than average height, showing very little skin as they were dressed under a cloak that masked they’re body, aside from the odd patch of brown skin.

The only uncovered part of them was they’re face, and even that was hidden by a blindfold, they’re face sharp like a razor’s edge. With a bone chillingly calm smile, even as he had several hard-hitting guns aimed at him.

“I merely wish to have a polite conversation with anyone who would listen. Tell me, what do you know of Darkness and Grimm?”

----- Evernight Castle

----

Cold and dead, red-eyes stared out at the eldritch land around her castle. A dull, almost imaginary pang of loneliness hit her, for what felt like the first time in decades, perhaps centuries. They had become less frequent as time flowed forward. But, stop?

They never stopped.

Neither had the pain of loss.

An age ago, she would have gone out across the ocean and burned, and burned, and burned until ash had remained.

Many monikers and titles had been placed upon her during those visits.

The Witch-Queen.

Demon across the Sea.

Deathless Tyrant.

The Adversary.

Red Eyes.

Bone-Skinned.

God-Queen.

Her Divine Majesty.

Grimm Calamity.

And, so many more.

She preferred to be called Salem, but wouldn’t object to royal honorifics attached to her name.

Salem liked to think she had grown past her tantrums due to her fits of emotions, visions of the past, and the fading memories. 

Immortality was not age-proof it seemed. 

That was the one thing Ozma would probably agree with her on. Other than hating each other.

Combined, they had lost more knowledge than Humanity had gained in the last ten thousand years.

Now, instead of throwing fits, Salem watched the outside of her castle, and felt her age resting on her, feeling a hollow misery that mortals could not comprehend in the least.

Grimm wandered aimlessly across Draconis, the continent that once housed the Brother’s themselves. A fall from grace, the like’s history would never know.

Thanks to Ozma of course.

Salem scowled, and drank from her chalice, filled with some wine she had stored away in the crepts of the castle and forgot about for some centuries.

It tasted like wine.

The mortals would probably go on and on about how full-bodied, flavorful, and aged it was. 

It was wine to Salem, and she sipped it, hours passing before she realized it was empty.

She heft the chalice up, regarding it dully, as though it was at fault for not having more wine, and not letting her get drunk.

Immortality built up one hell of tolerance to just about everything.

Salem had been in possession of this chalice for some five-hundred years, holding tens of thousands of drinks, and accompanying her night after night for the same number of years she had possessed it.

She would freely admit to it being gaudy, tacky, and ugly. But, as she was the Queen of All Grimm, she found few willing to comment on such, that wished to remain living that is.

It was a medium sized skull from some champion of Ozma that Salem couldn’t be bothered to remember.

She turned it around in her hands to look at the back where she had the name inscribed for record.

Bernard Vento

He had been a large, powerful man and likely the strongest man born to that century, perhaps several. He could control dust with finesse, a master of his aura, a deft hand with his bardiche, and a semblance that could invert perception.

Bernard lasted fifteen minutes before she decided to just bombard the area with explosions, though he did give her a headache that lasted a week.

She had his skull encased in gold, then bejeweled with the tackiest jewels she could get, before making it into a chalice.

Ozma had once said she had a dark sense of humor, Salem hummed, agreeing to the thought.

Still, Salem sighed, dull as it was, the sensation of loss and sadness still hit harder than any blow she had suffered in a thousand years. Followed by a pain of loss, one that filled her with dread.

Her memories would continue to fade, she could barely remember they’re voices, what they loved and hated, even if she could remind herself with illusions of they’re appearances, she couldn’t replicate they’re essence.

Not perfectly.

What would be left, when she could no longer remember who her daughters were? Only what they looked like.

A silent dread filled her, at the thought of continuing to still exist so long, time may be her ally, but it was also her enemy. 

How long, how long until she felt only rage and sadness? Or, untill she had nothing at all, no will left to keep fighting, and no memories, only her hollow pain and misery?

Salem took a look at her company, then tossed her chalice over the balcony, firing a bolt of black energy at it, which exploded her centuries-long companion into dust and smoke. She felt nothing but slight amusement.

She returned inside, where her minion awaited her, the one with the mustache.

“Watts,”

“My liege,” The scientist responded respectfully. “There have been developments in Vale.”

“Which are?”

“Well, Ozpin is making a power play over Vale, and they’re seems to be a rising star among the Hunters in Training at his academy.”

Salem chuckled amused. “He can’t help himself, can the old fool?” Ozma was always partial to that part of Sanus, and always wanting to keep it under his reign, one way or another. “What of the child?” Salem tried to feign interest, but it was hard for her, she had seen hundreds of those  so-called ‘once a centuries prodigies’, but they failed to live up to those born in the age of the gods like herself and Ozma, or at least before Ozma split up his power like a fool.

His attempt to raise weapons against her had always failed, and would always fail. Though, a faint pang of curiosity rose inside her, wondering what kind they would be this time.

“He’s the only member of his class,”

That was interesting, actually. “Did he kill them all, or such?” She silently hoped that was the case.

“No, it seems the other hopefully trainees ended up interfering with each other, and dragging the others down with them.” Damn. “How novel.” A tinge of amusement in Salem's tone anyway.

“Though, he has also taken down the entire Council of Vale, which is the democratic ruling body of Vale, and cleaned up much of Vale’s criminal underbelly, it is very impressive, considering all his documents he submitted to Beacon were faked.”

Salem glanced at Watts with surprise, an emotion she hadn’t experienced in decades. “What?” She asked flatly.

“Yes, it seems the only reason he was let in at all was due to overwhelming public support, and the fact that all other eligible trainees failed initiation. By all accounts, he has no training, no known semblance, no education, lied about his age, and should be dead in a ditch somewhere, instead of going on to fight in the Vytal Festival.”

Salem gave Watts a skeptical look.. “You’re being serious, right?” He didn’t have an elborate suicide plot, did he?

“No, I am quite serious, I actually delayed telling you this until after completing my background searches, because I couldn’t believe it. It was only after I found footage from Beacon, that I determined that it all true, and I have to a conclusion about him that he’s-”

“That he’s Ozma’s secret weapon.” Salem said calm and proudly. 

“A lucky idiot.” Watts finished.

Salem gave Watts an arrogant look. “Don’t be ridiculous, that’s about as likely as a golem with a soul.”

“About that, they’re a project in Atlas-”

“No, it’s obvious that he’s Ozma’s secret weapon, pretending to look like a lucky idiot, it’s expert deception, it was bound to go over your head, Watts.”

Watts let out a long suffering sigh, and pinched his nose. “Alright, what shall we do about him then?”

“Have Tyrian kill him.”

“Tyrian’s on vacation ma’am.”

Salem felt surprised for the second time in decades, freaking Watts out a little because she was being so emotive. “He takes those?”

“Yes.”

“Call his scroll.”

“He left it here.”

“What about Hazel?”

“He’s recovering from the Mistral Flu.”

“Cinder?”

“Terrified, but pretending not to be, also looking for the Fall Maiden.”

“Tock?”

“Who?”

Salem sighed. “Alright, just bomb his flying machine, or poison him.”

“It will be down.” Watts nodded, already pulling up some contacts, then went wide eyed. “Ma’am, he killed my assassin contact.”

“What?!”

----

A chatroom on the CCT

----

Deep within the CCT-Network, a chatroom was blowing up, a chat room dedicated to one Jaune Arc, it was quite the exclusive and private club though, consisting of only three members.

Red_Spartan: Did you see the news?

OnTimeCadet: Which news? You’ll have to be more specific.

OneEyeOneShot: (-_^)?

Red_Spartan: Sorry, sorry! The Vale News! Our Knight is missing!

OneEyeOneShot: (0_0)!!!!

OnTimeCadet: What??!!!

OnTimeCadet: Sorry, could you send me a link?

OneEyeOneShot: Link please.

Red_Spartan: One second! Sorry!

Red_Spartan: Here it is! Link.

OnTimeCadet: Dear Dust!

OneEyeOneShot: (;-;)

Red_Spartan: I know right?!

Red_Spartan: It’s fine, OneShot! It’s the Sword of Vale, I’m sure he will be back!

OneEyeOneShot: (|)~(*-*)~-(===>

Red_Spartan: Exactly! He’ll always be back to fight another day!

OnTimeCadet: About that, they’re been an update. ‘Link’ 

OnTimeCadet: I’ll give you two a moment.

OnTimeCadet: It has been a moment. He’s very much alive, and has killed a notorious assassin that is even on the wanted list here in Atlas. Marcus Blake it was.

OneEyeOneShot: *Gif on a sniper rifle being loaded.* Followed by an angry emoji, followed by a happy emoji, then a png of knight standing over defeated enemies.

OnTimeCadet: Easy One, the situation has been dealt with, no need to get in trouble. Though, I am overjoyed he has once again triumphed.

Red_Spartan: Stupid timezones, I freaked out over nothing!

OneEyeOneShot: *Headpat Gif*

Red_Spartan: Thanks OneShot.

OnTimeCadet: Thank you, Spartan, regardless. 

Red_Spartan: You’re all welcome! 

Red_Spartan: On to actual good news! That means he’s still coming to compete in Vytal! He’ll be here in under a month! That means, that means! I can meets him, and touch his hands, and ask for pointers, and be alone with him, and *The rest of the post broke off into lustful rambling.*

Red_Spartan: I’m blushing so hard right now, sorry about that! 

Red_Spartan: Please, don’t tell me that scared you two off? You’re still coming to meet me during Vytal right? That plan is still on right?!

Red_Spartan: I’m going to cry.

OneEyeOneshot: *Png of tissues*

Red_Spartan: Thank you, Oneshot!

OnTimeCadet: Those aren’t for your eyes, they’re to clean up… your excitement.

Red_Spartan: NO! You wouldn't betray me, Oneshot?

OneEyeOneShot: *Smirking Gif*

Red_Spartan: NO! You two are not allowed to judge me! Not since OneShot posted those pictures she had commissioned, and Cadet posted all those body photos of Jaune!

OneEyeOneShot: *Embarrassed Sweating Gif*

OnTimeCadet: … I am speechless.

OnTimeCadet: *Typeless.

Red_Spartan: Yeah, that’s what I thought! … Sorry. Where in the world did you get those photo’s Cadet? I thought you lived in Atlas, those looked like they were taken inches away from him! … Not complaining, though!

OnTimeCadet: I have an inside woman.

OneEyeOneShot: *Surprised Emoji*

Red_Spartan: Lucky! How much did they cost? … Asking for myself.

OnTimeCadet: My dignity, morals, and law-abiding nature.

OnTimeCadet: 1500 Lien.

OneEyeOneShot: *Saluting Gif*

Red_Spartan: Your sacrifice will not go unnoticed.

Red_Spartan: Vytal is only weeks off, you two are still going to meet me in Argus, right?

OneEyeOneShot: *Photo of a Ticket, and suitcase.*

OnTimeCadet: Yes, I have scheduled a substantial amount of time to come over, and celebrate the festival.

Red_Spartan: Fantastic! I hope you’re as excited as I am to see Our Knight up close and personal!

OneEyeOneShot: *Heavy Breathing.Png*

OnTimeCadet … Agreed.

----

Somewhere in the depths of the Wilderness

----

On the ground, with their backs facing the sky, they rested a figure. Wrapped in a dark brown, almost black duster, head obscured by a thick, heavy helmet, they seemed to be a lean, athletic figure.

It would seem they were taking a nap.

If not for all the blood pooling around them, and the gashs rent into the duster exposing raw muscle and bone, that is.

It looked like they were very much dead.

Until one heard a husky, tired groan from them.

Rising from the forest floor, they’re body cracking and complaining as they force their way back up to standing.

The wounds slowly closed over the back, while the blood ceased to flow, and strangely enough, the duster began to repair as well.

The unknown figure turned around, a very heavy looking, sparkling gold amulet with emerald fashioned inside resting on the chest, dark leather armor underneath.

Two fiery eyes stared out from the helmet, as the figure turned around to look at an absolutely enormous Beowulf.

The Grimm was absolutely ancient. Battlescars everywhere that boneplating and spikes did not, it towered over the figure by more than twenty feet, it’s jaws only more than capable of swallowing a grown man with ease, let along sharp, deadly fangs as long as knives, and the claws that could scythe a bulldozer in two.

It’s red-eyes glimmered with hard-earned intelligence and wisdom, and regarded the helmeted human curiously, as it watched them get on they’re feet. It ears twitched as the human groaned, and what could have passed for a smile pulled at it’s tar-like flesh, seeming to enjoy the humanoid’s struggle.

The helmeted human brought out a positively ancient gun, red-powder pouring out of the front, and tarnished and equally ancient short battle-ax, with a blade oddly large for how short the handle was.

“Ready for round two, you ugly son of a-” The helmeted figure didn’t get a chance to finish, as the ancient Beowolf, swiped them in half, sending the pieces flying.

The Beowolf huffed and started to leave.

Then it ducked, as over where it’s head had been, a fist sized bullet had gone through a tree. 

The Beowolf curiously looked back, where the Helmet Human had gotten up again, pointing the gun at it again.

“Damn,” The figure said, reloading the ancient monster of a gun. “Get them next time.” 

The Ancient Beowolf felt a pang of something. It wasn’t sure what, but its hackles rose, or what passed for such a creature as it, before its throat swelled and glowed, before emitting a burning ray of heat at the Helmeted human.

Which they dodged, looking at the Beowolf much more confidently, marching silently towards the beowulf, swinging the ax once, revealing that it’s handle could extend to a size more befitting of it’s enormous blade.

The Ancient Beowolf charged.

-----

???

----

Her hand reached out, to touch the sleeping girl, to comfort her as she struggled in her sleep.

Like uncounted times before, her touch phased through.

It had broken her heart the first time that had happened, unable to touch either of her daughters, or her husband.

Unable to comfort any of them, despite her presence.

Her silver-eyes teared up as she left her dear baby, as she then floated through the humble house. She visited room after room, her little sunflower, her dear drunken friends empty room, and her own room, where her husband slept fitfully, little dear Zwei who kept him company.

She ached to reach out and touch him, feel his warmth, but it was pointless.

Zwei perked up from the foot of the bed, his tiny tail wagging, as he almost barked at her excitedly.

She held up a finger to silence the dog, who whimpered sadly. ‘I miss you too, Zwei.’ She looked around the room, pictures of they’re children lined the walls. ‘You’re the best dog we could’ve asked for, and done more than I could’ve asked.’

Zwei poked his head forward, begging to be petted.

Summer shook her head sadly. ‘I can’t Zwei.’

Zwei gave her a mournful look.

Summer felt her eyes tear up more, this was torture. Damn you, Salem.

‘I love you Zwei, thank you so much.’ The woman said sadly, her head turning towards the rising sun, her power waning, having been active too long. ‘I got to go, I’ll be back, though!’

Zwei smiled, then went up to curled up next to Tai.

Summer looked at her ghostly hand, as it dissolved into particles. This had been the longest trip so far, she had been able to visit each room this time. 

Maybe, just maybe. She could eventually stay forever. She thought as she dissolved into not, her essence being pulled away.

[alltooreid]

Invisible String

Although Spencer Reid and the Reader don’t find themselves in a romance with each other until well into their adulthood, their relationship has been decades in the making. Almost as if something as been pulling them together all these years. 

A/N: sorry for such a long wait but i’ve been struggling a lot mentally as of late. i hope you guys enjoy this one shot!! As always requests are open and heavily encouraged!! And of course this is inspired by the taylor swift song of the same name :)) Also keep in mind although the following scenes are heavily inspired by some scenes in Criminal Minds, elements of them have been slightly altered to fit in Y/N as a character.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Type: a cute strangers to lovers fluff fic!

Word Count: 3.9K

Content Warnings: typical criminal minds case discussion, mentions of child trafficking when discussing this case, but no real detail. slight spoilers for season eight (beginning maeve stuff) and tiny spoilers for season fifteen (briefly mentions max but nothing really important to the plot at all)

“Time, curious time Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs Were there clues I didn't see?”

You had met Spencer Reid 3 times before you had really met him.  

It was almost silly to think about it now. Now that you and Spencer have been dating for 3 years, it was strange to believe there were so many chances for you two to meet years earlier.

When you were sixteen years old, you got your first part time job. You worked at a self-serve frozen yogurt shop called Iced Dreams. You hated it so much. Your manager was a total creep, your older coworkers were rude and condescending to you, since you were one of the youngest people working there, but most of all you hated the uniforms.

Consisting of a very stupid looking hat, bright pink with randomly embrodiered teal patterns, an outdated bright teal shirt, it had been given to you from a dirty bin in the back, and judging by the sewn in shoulder pads, it had to be at least a couple decades old.

So one day, you didn’t wear the hat.

It wasn’t entirely purposeful. You couldn’t find it, you searched your room, you searched your car, so eventually you had to leave without it to prevent being late. Still, as you clocked it and passed the box of extras in the office something made you decide to leave it alone.

You were about 8 minutes into your shift when your manager approached you. “Y/N? Where’s your hat sweetheart?” You hated this man so much. You had gone to your parents time and time again, recounting his creepy behavior towards you and the other teenage girls who you worked with, but they refused to let you quit.

When you had started working there, he used to enforce this ridiculous rule that all the female workers had to wear skirts as part of their uniform, but you had gathered all the sixteen and seventeen year olds who worked there and all threatened to quit if he didn’t change the policy. So you were no stranger to breaking and defying the rules.  

“Yeah I couldn’t find it, sorry.” you shrugged.

He chuckled and reached his hat out to touch your face. You jerked back, you almost wanted to refuse to wear one of the stupid extra hats just so that you could get fired.

“Well, Y/N its policy sweetie. No matter how special you are to me you still need to wear the hat. There’s extras in the office.”

“No way I’m wearing one of those. I bet they have like lice or something.”

He pursed his lips and sighed “Well I suppose that beautiful hair is just too pretty to wear a used hat huh. . . What do you suggest? If you’re working you have to wear it.”

You laughed, “Well you could let me go home.”

He paused, “Why don’t you go sit in the office, I’ll come talk to you in a minute.”

So you did, for about 10 minutes you sat in the office, surrounded by frozen yogurt flavor marking posters and boxes of old uniforms, and each passing minute you feared for the worst. Maybe you were actually getting fired? You really didn’t want to go that far, because, as much as you hated it, you really needed this job.

When your manager finally came to talk to you he held a small salted caramel frozen yogurt, your personal favorite flavor, and a twenty dollar bill. He handed them both to you.

“You seem so stressed Y/N, why don’t you take the day and go get lunch. My treat,” he said, smiling that weird twisted smile that always made your full body shiver.

However you were broke as hell, and no teenager in their right mind would ever pass up free food, so you took it, grabbed your keys and started to leave

Yet as soon as you walked out the back door you dropped your frozen yogurt, cup fully upside down, onto the pavement. You cursed, you hadn’t even taken a bite of it yet, and it looked like he had put coconut flakes on it, and you loved coconut. Still, you had your twenty bucks, and that was a pretty sweet pay out considering you were only clocked in for about 20 minutes.

So you got Chinese food, and spent what was supposed to be your shift in the shopping mall across town, completely and blissfully unaware of the fact the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI was dragging your manager away in handcuffs.

➽───────────────❥

Young Spencer Reid had only joined the FBI about a month ago. Despite being a genius, and providing crucial information to the solving of cases, he was aware of the most obvious. He was only twenty two years old, and he was scrawny as hell.

He felt this intense need to prove himself, especially to make Gideon proud.

So when they got a case about a the kidnapping and sex trafficking of teenage girls, he saw it as something he could really involve himself in. Based on the profile, it wasn’t going to be a large, strong, confident unsub who Morgan needed to tackle. This man would be ugly sure, but he would be a manipulative mastermind. Reid could work with that, he could prove himself.

He surprised everyone with his sheer work ethic and determination to find this man, and through consistently revising and delivering the profile soon enough they got a hit. A young woman in her early twenties called the tipline and reported her own manager. Insisting he fit the profile perfectly, and described how strangely he treated the minors who worked there, and how he almost exclusively hired young girls, treated them great and then switched as soon as they became legal.

So Garcia did her magically digging, and soon enough the FBI was tearing up a frozen yogurt shop, looking for any evidence of pedophilia. Garcia was even brought along, as she was pivotal to discovering any secret files in his computer.

At first, all they could find were strange compilation videos and under employees skirts. Spencer, and the rest of the team, were struggling to connect how he could get so many videos from an angle like this without anyone noticing or reporting him, until Gideon uncovered an old dusty pair of shoes, in which the right one held a small camera at the toe.

Although this was absolutely disgusting, it wasn’t enough to prove he was running the ring or kidnapping the girls, so Garcia kept digging. Meanwhile, Spencer tried to make himself useful by checking out the back of the store.

That’s where he found your clock-out receipt.

“Hey guys, we might want to take a look at this,” he shouted out.

Morgan grabbed the paper from his hand, “Ok, I don’t get it kid, it’s trash.”

Spencer pointed to the details on the slip, “Yeah but it says here she clocked out 18 minutes ago after only working for 23 minutes and 46 seconds. If this guy is our unsub, this girl could be in a lot of trouble.”

“Maybe she’s still here, has anyone checked out the parking lot yet?”

Spencer shook his head, and followed Morgan out the back door. There they discovered some almost completely melted salted caramel frozen yogurt.

Morgan bent down to investigate, “Yeah, we gotta get this to the lab, but I can tell you right now that there’s clearly more than just coconut topping this yogurt. It also means we have another victim.”

Spencer crouched down as well, “Not necessarily.”

“What do you mean kid? We’re missing a teenage girl and we’ve already found illegal evidence on this guy's computer. She’s in trouble.”

“Well judging the shape and inscription of these pills it appears to be some pretty strong rohypnol, almost certainly prescription grade. And ingesting it like this means she probably would have begun to feel its effects fairly early, I would predict 15 minutes. She clocked out 18 minutes ago, so even if she left exactly at that time she would have certainly crashed her car on the way home. The nearest residence is 8 minutes away from here, we’re in a complete shopping district. There’s only two cars out here and neither have a passed out driver, so I would bet she didn’t eat any of it. Also, the only spoon out here is still wrapped in plastic, “ Spencer analyzed.

Morgan sighed, “Well what do we even do then?”

Before Spencer could answer Hotch opened the back door. “We got him.”

Spencer turned to Morgan, “I’m sure her phone number is somewhere inside, I say we call her and make sure she’s ok. She probably doesn’t even know this is happening right now.”

So he did find your phone number, and although he initially pushed the phone to Morgan, he just chuckled and pushed it back.

“No way pretty boy. You’re the know-it-all with all that profiling out there, you can call her,” and before he could protest Morgan left, so Spencer was left to call you.

And strangely, for it being the first time he would ever interact with the love of his life, he thought nothing of it.

And that was the first time you had met Spencer Reid.

➽───────────────❥

The second time was years and years later, when you were waitressing night shifts to make extra money. You had never forgotten meeting Spencer Reid the first time, but this was the first time you would ever see his face.

You were slightly concerned when you got a call from a man, whose name you had now long forgotten, claiming he worked for the FBI. Although you weren’t incredibly surprised to hear your manager committed such heinous crimes against children, you were taken aback by how close you had come to becoming one of his victims.

But that was 9 years ago. In your college days it became a fun story you told at frat parties, but you were 25 now. Sometimes you would think about the incident when you couldn’t sleep, and if you were feeling feisty you would use it as an icebreaker or a “two truths, one lie” statement, but otherwise you didn’t really think about it.

You had plenty of other things to worry about, in fact, that’s exactly why you worked so much. It was so much easier to forget when you were constantly preoccupied with complaining customers and terribly awkward blind dates.

You had just sat this man, incredibly handsome, however it was clear he was on some kind of date. His reservation was for two, and he spent way too much time adjusting his clothes and table setting for him to not be trying to impress someone special. He also brought a gift, which judging by the packaging and shape, seemed to be some kind of wrapped book.

Even though he was 15 minutes early for his own reservation, he still looked really nervous, almost like he already believed she might not show up. You couldn’t help yourself, you had to go talk to him.

“Anyone ever tell you you should model?” you started with.

He looked up “Excuse me?”

“Sorry for being so bold, you just look so familiar,” he weirdly sounded very familiar as well, but you didn’t tell him that. “Are you sure you haven’t modeled? You have excellent bone structure. I bet you could.”

He laughed to himself, “yeah I’m sure.”

“Well your date is very lucky either way. I wish I had a boyfriend as handsome as you. Actually I wish I had a boyfriend period, but that’s a whole other story.”

He chuckled, and although you knew in your heart that you shouldn’t be flirting with him considering he was 15 minutes away from being actively on a date talking to him made you feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time. “What happened with your boyfriend? Do I even dare ask?”

“Well I kind of always knew he wasn’t super interested in me, but I really liked him, so I did my best to ignore his wandering eyes,” you sighed. “That didn’t stop him from leaving me for his coworker though.”

“That’s terrible.”

You smirked, “That’s not even the worst part, he broke up with me over a 27 second phone call. He didn’t even let me respond, he just kind of hung up.”

“I’m sorry, no one deserves that. Especially not you. I’ve only been talking to you for a couple minutes and I can tell that.”

“Oh really? What makes you so sure?”

“I’m pretty good at reading people.”

You smiled, “Well I should probably stop flirting with you now, considering your date hasn’t even started yet. And don’t worry, she’ll show, you’re so handsome she’d be stupid not to.”

He looked confused. “You were flirting with me?”

You laughed, “I thought you were good at reading people?”

He smiled back at you, and it made your heart soar, this silly, pure goofy smile that made you want to replace his date and have dinner with him right then and there.

You walked back to your hostess stand. A couple minutes later you noticed the handsome stranger on the phone. You thought nothing of it until later when a woman came in, clearly nervous, holding a gift bag.

“Can you give this to Spencer Reid for me please?” You recognized the name, the man you were just speaking with had filed his reservation under it.

“Um, yeah sure, aren’t you going to go in? He’s at that table over the-” but before you could finish your sentence the woman was gone. Your heart sank, poor Spencer, how could someone drop their date off a gift but stand them up anyway? That’s just cold.

When you get up to bring the gift to him, he’s already heading out of the restaurant himself.

“Sir? Spencer? Dr. Reid?” he turned his head. “A lady came in and dropped this off for you.”

His face dropped, it almost looked like he was about to cry. “Thank you,” he said as he looked up at you before leaving.

He ran out the door, both gifts in hand and whipped his head around a few times before sighing and speeding off in one direction. Even before you learned what happened after that and leading up to it, you felt terrible for the handsome stranger.

How could you not for someone so clearly distressed? Someone so clearly in love?

➽───────────────❥

7 years and a divorce later you were spending your Saturday in a park, strangely contemplating love itself. Although you barely remember that night all those years ago when you spoke to Spencer, he did. Vividly. In fact, on this Saturday you both were in a public park, contemplating your many failed attempts at true love.

It was your first wedding anniversary without your husband. Although you had only been married for two years, you still were having a hard time navigating life without him. 

You started to wonder if you would ever find the true love you had been wishing for since your youth. Was 32 too late? Had you lived out all of your opportunities?

When you were little your mother had told you that all soulmates were attached at the left ring fingers, by small, incredibly thin strands of gold string, invisible to the naked eye. She insisted that these strings were constantly trying to pull you and your soulmate together, and that when life was ready for you two to meet, you would. 

Until then, you would have small, mindless interactions. Things you wouldn’t think about, maybe even things that weren’t interactions at all. You would get the same commercial jingle stuck in your head. You would both get an intense craving for the same food. You’d have the same dream. 

As a kid you were obsessed with this idea, you thought it was so romantic, and you fully believed everything your mom told you about it. You always asked her for more stories, and at bedtime you refused to sleep unless she would tell you more.

But now you were sure soulmates, true love even, didn’t exist. The invisible pretty gold strings your mother weaved fantastic stories with were completely fabricated. If they weren’t, you would have seen the clues by now.

Right?

➽───────────────❥

Spencer Reid was given an assignment from his therapist. He had to spend his Saturday off trying to interact with a stranger. Making friends with someone other than his colleagues may seem like a simple task for some, but it was something the young genius had almost no experience with.

He understood that it was probably for the best. He wasn’t exactly great with relationships of any kind, but especially not romantic ones. It didn’t take a genius to know that a couple of flirtations, a dead girlfriend he had only seen once, and a long time unrequited (or at least he thought unrequited) infatuation with his best friend and godsons’ mother was not a very great track record.

He, just like you, was also beginning to believe that he was hopeless when it came to love. That 38 was too old, that his time to meet someone and have the children he dreamed of had long passed.

But right as he was about to call JJ, to see if she would invite him in on the case Garcia had started to work on, he saw you.

Unlike you, he remembered your face and your interaction vividly. That almost date with Maeve was one of the biggest defining moments of his life, and what are the chances that the waitress from that very night was now less than 30 feet away from him, reading under the green leaves of a tree.

He wasn’t going to say anything, until he saw the book you were reading.

The Narrative of John Smith.

It must have been a sign, for what he wasn’t exactly sure yet, but it just had to mean something. The universe had to be reaching out to him, he had experienced crazier things.

And just as he was about to walk over to you, to close the gap between the gold strings tied around your ring fingers, a child interrupted his train of thought.

“That’s a strange haircut.”

➽───────────────❥

Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid were finally reuniting after many years. They barely got to see each other these days, but even though he was teaching and working at the BAU, Spencer still was willing to clear his schedule to second Derek suggested they meet up.

Morgan was excited as well, both to see his friend and to hopefully help him get a date. Sure, he had liked what he had heard about Max, but he wasn’t exactly surprised it had only lasted a couple months between her and Spencer. They just seemed too different.

Plus, now he got the chance to play wingman again, and he was ecstatic about that. Spencer not so much.

“I don’t know Morgan, it’s only been a couple months since we broke up. Wouldn’t it be too early to start talking to other people?”

“Pretty boy, you and I both know that the rate in which you’ve had relationships is not even close to the average. You need to balance that out somehow.”

Spencer sighed, he knew Derek was right, but he still felt strange.

“Morgan, have you ever heard of the red string of fate?”

“No, but I’m sure I’m about to hear all about it.”

“It’s an East Asian philosophy, based on the discovery that the ulnar artery connects the heart with the pinky finger, actually that’s where the belief in pinky promises come from. The reason it’s integrated in so many different cultures is that-”

“Kid, you’re losing me here,” Morgan interrupted. “Finish your thing about the string.”

“Oh yeah, sorry. It’s the idea that human relations are predestined by a red string that the gods tie to the pinky fingers of those who find each other in life. Legend has it that the two people connected by this thread will have an important story, regardless of the time, place or circumstances. The red string might get tangled, contracted or stretched, as surely often happens, but it can never break. Essentially, the idea is that although we might not realize it, our lives move in a pre-ordained direction, guided by invisible strings that are woven into the fabric of the Universe itself. And all the while, the red thread connecting us to our distant soulmates is getting shorter.”

“Well it’s an interesting theory kid, but it’s a lot to think about. I mean, we’re in a bar, let loose a little bit. Not every interaction has to be about getting closer to your soulmate. And sure, maybe you’ll meet them one day, maybe even soon. But you’re here now, and just because your one true love may not be, doesn’t mean it’s not worth it to be here.”

Spencer sighed, “You’re right. I don’t even know if I believe in that anyway, maybe I’m just looking for something to explain this all.

Derek patted his friend on the shoulder, “okay pretty ricky, this is how it’s about to go down. I’m going to buy you two drinks. You’re going to take both of them, and go find someone, anyone here to go talk to.”

“Ok, I think I can do that. Who?”

Derek looked around, trying to find who he believed would be the best match for his friend. “How about her?” he asked, pointing at you.

Spencer couldn’t believe it when he looked. There you were, the girl, the one he had met three times before, even if he could only remember two. The woman he knew was some sort of universe sent sign that Saturday he saw you underneath the greenery. The girl he was so close to talking to before he was interrupted by Max’s nephew. The woman who (and he obviously did not know this at the time) he would marry 3 years later. The one who would carefully knit the baby blankets for all of their friends and exes. The one who he would adopt 3 children with. The woman who, he was now sure, was at the other end of his invisible string. The girl he needed to talk to right now.

“Is it just me,” Morgan said, “Or does she look kind of familiar?”

“Yes,” Spencer responded, “yes she does.” He got up quickly and started making strides towards you.

“Wait!” Morgan called, “You forgot your drinks!”

“I don’t need them!” he shouted back. When he sat down next to you, you smiled. It made his heart soar, you had this silly, pure goofy smile that made him want to ask you out right then and there.

Instead he settled on the only conversation starter he could think of.

“Have you ever heard of the invisible string story?”

And you couldn’t help but laugh.

“A string that pulled me Out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons One single thread of gold tied me to you”

- Thank you for reading! Please reblog and let me know what you think :))

[a-dusty-emerald]

Till it sinks in: Draco x Reader / Hurt-Comfort, Fluff Fic

A hurt-comfort fluff fic, with a slytherin Y/n being the girlfriend of the softie-who-hates-to-be-called-softie-so-he-bitches-all-day Draco Lucius Malfoy.

Where Umbridge uses her quill on you.

_____________________________________________

Dolores Umbridge, maybe the most hated teacher to set foot at Hogwarts, had a special dislike against anyone who disobeyed. And while that may be all teachers, not all teachers dismissed sobbing students from their detention. Every single student that got detention with Umbridge looked broken afterwards, but no one knew what she said to them; it was a mystery.

Professor McGonagall, for instance, made sure the students that misbehaved researched a wide topic for a few hours during the week, with the intimidating presence of her self. Professor Snape, on the other hand, locked students in the Potions classroom and let them out after the successfull brewing of a potion of his liking. Hence, it must be something similar.

Y/n strolled into class, her curls bouncing around the embroided slytherin crest of her robe. Defence against the dark arts was her worst subject, she only thought it was interesting when Professor Lupin taught it, and had done surprisingly well. Then, it was a hands-on, useful and fascinating module, while now, Umbridge followed the Ministry's policy to teach the students in a "risk free" way, by only reading through the theory. Not only were the lessons incredibly boring, the whole book was utterly useless.

"As if Voldemort will ask you the theory of Merlin's rule of categorisation of spells when he Avada-Kedavra's your ass", Y/n had scoffed when she saw the chapters. Draco had laughed, but told her that his father had owled him that Umbridge was a family ally, and hence he could not be out of line in her class.

"When did you become such a nerd?"

"Oh shut it Y/n", Y/n recalled.

She had also implemented some stupid rules, like "no touching between boys and girls, and a six feet distance at all times", and reduced the hours that students could go out of their dorms. While Dumbledore wanted the students to be at their dorms by 10pm, Umbridge thought that 6pm was acceptable.

As if.

Y/n entered the class, the only class she did not sit with Draco. Apparently, boys and girls could also not sit with one another, since they would eventually touch. And in a doomed world controlled by Umbridge, that was a sin.

Draco spotted his girlfriend entering the room, wearing a bored look on her face. He was not excited about DADA either. His parents might have told him that Umbridge was the best thing that could happen in this school, but he was not blind or stupid. The stuff being taught were useless and her teaching method was more boring than 5 hours of Divination with no breaks in his eyes. At least then, he could laugh at Trelawney. Now he just was supposed to stay silent and listen Umbridge reading the most basic book ever again and again.

He realised he got lost in his thoughts and was staring at Y/n longer than intended. She seemed bored as hell, but her eyes always intimidated him - yet, he would never admit out loud. Even the plainest of her looks had such passion beneath it, her deep dark orbs had a fire in them, surrounded by thick eyelashes, making her look coy and mischevious even when she was not planning to.

Y/n noticed him looking and smirked back at him.

"Stop staring, people might think that you like me" she mouthed silently to him. He grinned and shook his head. 'She is something else', he thought.

An unpleasantly familiar trotting of heels approached the creaking floor at the centre of the classroom, making students focus on the short, evil woman that was tormenting the school; Umbridge.

"Hello, my dear students" she smiled in a sickly manner. "Today we are learning about the theory of protection spells."

Y/n groaned, thinking other students would join her, however, it was this uncomfortable and awkward moment that everyone had decided to stay deadly silent, making her disapproving groan loud and clear to be heard.

"Is there an issue, miss Y/l/n?" Umbridge smiled in the evilest way she could.

"No, no, of course not. I always wanted to listen about the theory of protection spells." Y/n smiled in the fakest way possible.

"Is that irony I am sensing, Y/l/n?" Umbridge had a more serious look now, her smile not decieving anyone.

"Nope." She said, emphasising the "p" sound in her lips. Out of the corner of her eye, she quickly glanced to Draco, who had a warning glare. "Don't aggravate her!" He mouthed. Y/n rolled her eyes, and unfortunately for her, Umbridge saw that, taking it as it was directed at her.

She scrunched up her nose and stomped her heel lightly on the floor, when she exclaimed: "Detention after class, miss y/l/n! That attitude of yours is no match for a young witch!"

Draco did not know why everyone was saying Umbridge's detention was horrible, he had heard she only requested some lines. Even so, her detention had gained a horrible reputation, and he didn't like it one bit that his girlfriend would be the one going there.

Even so, he was angry at her, he had warned her so many times. She was such a brat every time she spoke to Umbridge, when he had told her that every student that was leaving her detention was crying.

The DADA lesson had finished, when Y/n saw Draco stomping towards her, stopping around the 6 feet limit, keeping his distance.

"Why do you never listen?!" His angry hissing voice aggravated her even more.

"I rolled my freaking eyes, Draco, chill."

"You were sarcastic. You know you were. Are you happy now?" His glare was piercing her soul.

"I am not, actually. I would prefer no stupid rules, but I guess my boyfriend is too much of a wuss to think for himself and see how ridiculous Umbridge is."

"She just wants order. Besides, its temporary!" He half whispered, half yelled.

"Sure. Tell that to yourself to feel better, darling." Now she was mad at him. "Now excuse me, I have a detention to go to." She closed the gap between them - breaking the rule- just to bump on his shoulder angrily, and stomped past him, going to detention.

"Fine! I don't give a fuck, then!" She heard her boyfriend's voice. She knew he didn't mean it at all, but she silently prayed he changed his mind after her detention, he had an hour to think by himself after all. She was hoping for an apology.

Y/n lightly knocked on her door, listening to Draco's advice for once. She should be polite, calm and collected no matter what she said to her. She couldn't risk an expulsion. Umbridge's sickly laugh was heard. "Come in, y/l/n."

Y/n opened the door, fighting back her urge to laugh or roll her eyes. Her least favourite colour, fuchsia pink, was plastered everywhere, cats trapped on the walls, and a heavy, sickly, sugary aroma filled her nostrils, she did her best to keep her pokerface.

"Sit", the teacher ordered. "You will do some lines today, Y/n."

Relief passed through her. That wasn't that bad. She grabbed a piece of paper and moved to grab her quill, when the fuchsia toad in front of her stopped her. "Oh no, dear. I'm afraid you wont need that." She smiled, and handed her a large black feathered quill from her own collection. "Use this, please. It is one of my favourites."

Y/n grabbed the quill and moved again to reach for her ink. "Oh, silly me, I forgot." She heard the professor giggle. "You won't need any ink, dear."

She looked at Umbridge confused, her tamed eyebrows furrowing to her words. Still, she went with it. She grabbed the quill and before she started, Umbridge directed her "you shall write the line: I must not be arrogant." Y/n resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"How many times, Professor?" She said.

"Hm... let's just say... till it sinks in." Umbridge giggled once again, sipping her tea.

Y/n scoffed silently and started writing the lines, red ink magically appearing on paper. Her left hand was uncomfortable the whole time, but she ignored it. As soon as she finished the first line, though, the discomfort became a burning sensation, and hurt so much, like someone was creating small cuts in her skin. She looked at her hand to see what was going on, only to see the line she wrote engraved in her hand.

'You evil bitch' Y/n thought.

Every time she would rewrite the sentence, it was like the invisible knife digged deeper and deeper in her skin, twisting at each twist of the quill. She looked at Umbridge with teary eyes, a silent plea to stop this torture. Blood was seeping out of her wound uncontrollably now, staining her robe. Umbridge just glanced at her and said "one more page."

Through silent tears, a wrecked bloodied hand, trembles and gritted teeth, she finished her torture without making a sound. She excused her self, said goodbye to the professor, and closed the heavy door behind her, exhaling with a trembled sob escaping her lips. An exhale that she was holding for an hour.

She contained her tears and hid her hand from plain sight. She did not want to worry anyone, and she sprinted with all the energy she could muster to the dungeons. She just wanted to wash it off, wrap it in a clean cloth, and have a good cry.

As she was approaching the dungeons, it dawned on her: she could run up to Draco there. What should she do? On one hand, the thought of making him feel bad enticed her, she was still mad about his behaviour. On the other hand, she knew he meant no harm, and that he would make her start a legal war with Umbridge. She really didn't want to do anything right now, as much as she hated her guts.

She hid her hand better, wiped her eyes, took a few deep breaths and prayed that her boyfriend was not in the common room, as she opened the door.

Unbeknownst to her, Draco was waiting restlessly at the common room all this time. He didn't like the fact they fought before, he hated not being on good terms with Y/n. He didn't think he was entirely on the wrong though. 'Maybe if she listened to me once in a whi-'

His thoughts came to a halt when he saw a trembling Y/n enter the common room. Her eyes were red and glassy, and she was crouched in a weird position. He instantly forgot everything he was thinking of and sprinted towards her. When her eyes fell on him, she inhaled sharply, sttaightening her posture. He was terribly worried and she could feel it.

"Darling?" His soft voice was music to her ears.

Her eyes avoided his, refilling with tears just from his worried voice.

"I-I need to go to my room." She said with a lowered gaze.

"Tell me what's wrong please-"

"I thought you didn't give a fuck." Her voice was low when she said it, her teary eyes finally meeting his. She did not mean to snap at him, but everything was too much.

He finally locked eyes with her now, the emotion he saw in her overtaking him. He pursed his lips and looked down.

"I'm sorry. You know - baby you know thats not true. I want to know what happened. What did she say to you that made you cry? You don't cry easily, I know that. If you want I'll report her!" He was frantically searching for her gaze again, his grey irises full of concern.

"She said nothing bad to me. She instructed me through my lines." She avoided his gaze once again.

He lowered his gaze as well, and broke the -for once- uncomfortable silence, his voice slightly broken.

"Do you not trust me?"

His words echoed in her head. She did. She did with her life. She could not stay mad at him, no matter her anger. "I do. I'm sorry, I'm a-a bit of a m-mess, i'll tell you, j-just give me a few m-minutes..."

His hand grabbed hers to pull her into an embrace, to hold her close, to calm her. As soon as his hand grasped her own, though, a strong wave of stinging pain shot through her, a hissing sound escaping her lips as she yanked her hand away. She was holding it close to her heart, a few hot tears escaping her eyes. There was no escape now.

Draco looked at her wide eyed, a blank expression of confusion mixed with worry resting on his features. "What-"

He looked down on his hand. Blood.

He inhaled sharply. Blood? His heart was pounding in his chest now, his fury for Umbridge boiling. What exactly happened in her detentions?

"Darling." He spoke. His voice was low and steady, and Y/n could swear she could hear her own heartbeat. "Your hand. Please." He extended his own to signal her to give her hers. Slowly, she put her bloodied palm on his own.

"Did she do this?", he hissed angrily. Y/n nodded but winced at his tone, not ready for facing an angry Draco. He saw that, and his features calmed down.

He grasped her shoulders carefully, gently pulling her in a hug, lightly kissing her forehead and letting his lips linger there. He tilted her chin up, pressing a quick peck on her lips.

"Im not mad at you". He said steadily, to show he meant every word. "I'll kill her, honestly" he mumbled, as his eyes examined the wounds.

"I must not be arrogant?!?"

He felt his anger rise again, as he managed to read the cuts that were filled with blood.

"She h-had a black quill. I would write on paper and it would transfer the letters in m-my hand. Must be c-cursed." Y/n said between small sobs.

His one arm cradled her head and she felt him moving the other one on her waist, urging her to move. "Come on, lets get you cleaned up. I'll send a letter to my father. She will be out of her position tomorrow."

Y/n's eyes widened "No n-no I-"

Draco didn't let her finish "Y/n, I love you but please shut up."

For the first time in a while, Y/n giggled, music to Draco's ears.

He took his time being extra gentle on her wound, making sure it is clean, before putting a few healing spells on it, muttering apologies whenever Y/n would wince.

"Tomorrow your hand will be good as new. Trust me."

"I trust you Draco. Thank you."

His eyes looked up from her wound, and Y/n was sure she could melt. He had the softest gaze ever. They fell asleep in each other's embrace, soft kisses taking away the pain.

The next morning, Y/n could hardly stiffle a laugh at the annoucement of Umbridge being suddently fired. She turned at her boyfriend, who looked smug as ever.

His eyes glimmered and his eyebrows wiggled with smugness, as he said:

"She should not have been that arrogant. Guess karma is a bitch." He shrugged.

That Malfoy boy was your everything and you knew it.

FEEL FREE TO LIKE AND SHARE!! Feedback is always welcome, love you all!

[adventuresinwonderlust]

Title: Serious Inquiries Only: PART 1

Pairing: dom! yoongi x reader ft. Hobi

Warnings: Implied Masturbation, crack, humor, flirting

Rating: 18 and over

Y/N:

“Fuck, fuck, god yes!” You shake your head at the sounds of your roommate, jacking off for the fifth time in an hour. You press the volume up on the television trying to drown him out when suddenly he emerges from his room. He is completely out of breath, sweaty, and half naked. His sweats hang shamelessly off his hips. “Did you forget you don’t live alone Hobi? My god!” You sneer. “Sorry Y/N. That last one was for a customer that likes yelling. I’m done for the day. 500 dollars richer! We should grab dinner, on me!” He beams at you, yanking a Gatorade from the fridge and chugging it. “I still can’t believe you have one of those stupid pages.” You roll your eyes. He swallows hard, walking over and plopping down on the couch. “You know Y/N, you’re gorgeous. You’d make a killing on the site.” You cackle at his suggestion. “I would never.” “Never say never. Some of the most elite people at this school are on that site whether watching or streaming content.

Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” Hobi leans back, closing his eyes. “I’ll get my porn for free thanks.” “Ah, but it's so much more than that. It's an experience and sometimes it's not even about sex. I have a customer who loves when I read to her. I mean when’s the last time you even, well you know.” He makes a lewd jerking move with his hand and you laugh out loud. He waves you off, continuing to speak. “True story Y/N. Bedtime stories, it’s the sweetest thing.” “And tell me Hobi, how much do bedtime stories run a person?” “That’s not how this works you know. If you would just look at the site. Anyway, It’s a monthly subscription. If you want specific things, that’s where extra funds come into play and it's all at the discretion of the content creator. I could say no to the sex stuff, but I like it and it makes the most money but it's not a requirement. I mean honestly, have you ever even been on the site?” “No. I haven't, and I have no interest. What would your parents say?” You ask with a raised brow. “Ah! You’re too stuffy. You should subscribe! I have the perfect person for you if you’re ever interested.” “You're out of your mind if you think I would ever pay for something like that.” Hobi laughs, getting up from the couch and heading over to his room. “When you’re ready to lighten up, let me know. Serious Inquiries Only Y/N. Until then I’m going to take a nap.” “Whatever.” You whisper, mulling over the idea in your head. Hobi wasn’t completely wrong. It had been forever since you’d been with someone. You were hyper focused on school and now in your final semester of college maybe it was time to lighten up. “Serious Inquires Only.” You whisper to yourself, grabbing your cell phone and typing that name into your browser. A little glance couldn’t hurt could it? The site pops up immediately but you can’t browse any particular pages without a subscription. The subscription offers pop up and you scoff at the prices:

*$24.99 for one month

*$49.99 for three months

*$149.99 for one year

All subscriptions come with a 14-day money back guarantee cancellation policy.

You roll your eyes and close the window. “Fuck that.” You say to yourself. “You know what I changed my mind about the nap. Let’s just go eat. I’m starved!” Hobi emerges again to grab another Gatorade and then heads back to his room to get ready.

You step out of your room and roll your eyes at Hobi who gives you a wolf’s whistle. “Ready?” You ask, pulling on a black leather jacket over your white crop top sweater, admiring how your black skinny jeans hugging your hips nicely in the mirror of your lobby. “I think we should get steaks tonight. I’m feeling fancy.” Hobi states as you exit the building. “Sounds good. I’ll eat whatever you’re buying.” You say with a laugh. “Ah, ok,” Hobi says to his phone, “Yoongi will join us.” He smirks suggestively, throwing his hand out to hail a cab. “What? Why?” You whine. “He is hungry and I invited him.” “Hoseok! You know how nervous he makes me.” “Still have a crush on him huh?” Hobi smiles, a cab arriving. “No! He’s just brooding, quiet, judging!” “Oh wow! You’re a terrible liar. You know, we are in our last year of University, you should just tell him about this freshman crush and move on already.” “I don’t know why I bother speaking to you. I swear if you’ve told him I have a crush on him, I’ll strangle you.” Hobi laughs, slapping your thigh, as he shakes his head. “You are too wound up. He’s a great guy and friend. You’re the judgmental one Y/N. He actually thinks you’re really nice and cute.” “He said that?” Hobi nods assuredly. You hum to yourself, wondering what other things the two boys have discussed.

Yoongi:

“You’re late.” Yoongi grumbles, not moving his eyes away from his phone. Another Serious Inquiries Only subscriber has come in for his hand kink section. He smirks to himself. Easy money. This one wants him to open a gift box containing lingerie. “I am only 10 minutes late. There was traffic. How long were you actually waiting?” Hobi asks. Yoongi shrugs, looking over Y/N’s exposed tummy and tight jeans. Was she always this curvy? He licks his lips, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Y/N, you look really nice. How are you? I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while.” Yoongi remarks. Her eyes widen and she tucks her hair behind her ear, fumbling over her words. “It hasn’t been that long. I’m good, you know. I mean, we’ve seen each other around or maybe you just don’t notice. I’m good anyway. How about you?” He smirks, enjoying her flushed face and nervous demeanor. He has always thought she was a gorgeous girl but tonight she looked different, tonight she looked like sin. What he wouldn’t give to grip her hips. “Uh, ok you two, pine over each other inside please. I’m starving.” Hobi cuts in, grabbing the door to the restaurant and entering. Yoongi catches the door to hold it open for Y/N.

At the table, Yoongi finds himself peaking over his menu at Y/N. She looks amazing, fresh faced, glowing even. “What are you getting?” Hobi nudges her with his elbow. “I’m thinking lamb.” “Good choice.” Yoongi states calmly. She looks over at him and gives a small smile. “What are you getting?” She asks Yoongi. “Surf and turf.” He drops his menu, feeling his phone vibrate. He maintains eye contact with Y/N, reveling in the flush of her cheeks. He swears she’s in heat, he can almost smell her. He winks to test this theory, releasing a small laugh as she clears her throat and rubs her thighs together under the table.

Looking over his phone, he smiles as he sees another subscriber join his Serious Inquiries Only page. This one joins his ASMR section, requesting he whisper sweet nothings to her. He chuckles, looking up at Y/N’s furrowed brows. He licks his lips, shoving his phone in his pocket again. “So, Hobi, what are we celebrating?” Yoongi leans back, looking at his best friend. “He made extra cash on that ridiculous website.” Y/N interjects. “She's a prude.” Hobi scoffs. “I'm not, I just feel like you can get porn for free.” “What's your favorite type of porn?” Yoongi can't help but ask. “Excuse me?” Her brows furrow. “Well, it seems like you’re yucking someone else's yum. So, I'm intrigued as to what you find acceptable.” “I'm not yucking anything, all I'm saying is it's not for me.” Hobi cuts in, “OK, ok, let's not get into a debate at the table.” “Not everyone seeks or sells sex on that site anyhow. You should educate yourself before you shoot it down.” “Wow, asshole much? I guess you're on that site seeing as how defensive you are. Sorry if I don't want to pay 150 dollars to watch some guy shoot his load on his chest.” “So, you have looked at the site?” Hobi gives a curt smile. Yoongi laughs as Y/N squirms. “And it seems as if she was in search of some guy shooting his load on his chest.” Yoongi adds, causing Hobi to laugh loudly. “Fuck you both.” “I'm sure as you know, that cost extra.” Yoongi says with ample sarcasm. Y/N sucks her teeth, huffing off to the bathroom.

Hobi laughs and laughs, releasing a sigh as he comes down. “Leave her alone Yoongi. She's just not getting any.” “Fuck Hoseok, why haven't you planned a dinner like this sooner? I'll give that girl anything she wants. She's a fucking Goddess.” Yoongi looks over towards the bathroom as he speaks. “Is that on the record or off?” Hobi asks, waving over a waiter. “Off, besides, she doesn't like me like that.” Hobi just smiles at Yoongi. “What?” Yoongi grumbles. “What can I get you gentlemen?” The waiter asks. “I will have the filet mignon, medium rare. My friend who is in the restroom will have the lamb chops, also medium rare, and surf and turf for the gentlemen to my left.” “Medium rare as well?” Yoongi nods at the waiter, handing over his menu. “Spill it Hobi.” “No can do.”

Y/N:

You take a few deep breaths at the sink, trying to calm yourself. You’re not a prude, granted it's been a while since you’ve been with someone and sure you were a bit of a homebody but that didn’t make you a prude…. did it? You splash cold water on your face, looking at yourself in the mirror. You should’ve put on some makeup. Yoongi was looking hot tonight and here you were looking drab and fresh faced. Why did he make you so nervous? He was always so confident and the way he kept looking at you had you hot to say the least. You needed to just get your head right. It was one dinner and you were home free, back to ignoring each other.

You emerge from the restroom and head back to the table. “I ordered your lamb chops.” Hobi informs you. “Thanks.” You say, resting your chin on your hand, trying desperately to avoid Yoongi’s demanding eye contact. “So, Hobi tells me that you and I will be taking a couple of courses together this semester.” Yoongi states. “Oh, I hadn’t realized.” You say, still avoiding eye contact. “I look forward to seeing you every day.” You laugh out loud at his confession. “Is that so?” “Yeah definitely. I love a woman in uniform.” He mumbles. Your head snaps almost on its own and you nearly melt away watching Yoongi lick his lips. Is he flirting or just messing with me? You weren’t sure but lord you felt it right in your pussy. “Ah, yes, food is here!” Hobi proclaims, the waiter placing plates in front of each of you.

You all begin to dig in, savoring your meals. “Mm, so good, Y/N, let me try the lamb.” Hobi says between chews. You nod, cutting him a slice of lamb. He grabs it with his fork and pops it in his mouth. He hums in delight. “Yoongi! You have to try it. Phenomenal.” Yoongi chuckles softly, chewing his food. “You want to.” You point at your lamb with your fork. He gives you a sly smile that causes you to swallow hard. He nods and you cut him a piece. You look up to find him leaning in with his mouth open. Your mouth falls open and you feel your face flush. “Ah.” Is all he says. You grab your fork, catching the cut piece of lamb and bring it to his mouth. He slowly brings his tongue out, touching the tip of the lamb with it, before wrapping his lips around your fork. You moan just a bit at the sight, feeling your slick move past your slit. “Amazing.” He whispers, never breaking eye contact with you. You nod. “Told you! So good. What a great idea to come here tonight. Go me!” Hobi praises himself while you and Yoongi maintain your locked eyes.

Hobi pays for dinner, refusing Yoongi and your advances to even leave the tip. “It's my treat you two besides, Yoongi’s got next.” He winks. You raise a brow but just shake your head. You all leave the place together. “Yoongi, you should come to our place for a night cap.” Hobi offers. “Ah, I would but I have a bunch of shit to do tonight. Maybe next time. Y/N, so good to see you. We’ll catch up in class yeah?” “Yeah.” You smile. He nods, giving Hobi a handshake and walking off. “Holy fuck! Was he flirting with me all night or was I going crazy?” You turn to Hobi, who sticks his hand out for a cab. Hobi shrugs. “I didn’t notice anything strange.” “Well did he say anything about me while I was in the bathroom?” Hobi smiles wide now. “So, is this an admission that you have a crush?” You suck your teeth. “Forget it Hobi.” “Forgotten Y/N.”

Yoongi:

Yoongi stretches his body wide at his computer, leaning in to review his newest member’s request. He had never wanted to get into the Serious Inquiries Only game but when he saw the extra money it made Hobi on the side he signed up with no complaints. He was very organized though and set very specific rules. First, he never offered sexual favors in exchange for money. It wasn’t that he was against it, he just didn’t have the time to delve into that line of work. He always saw how exhausted Hobi was after just one night of requests and with school and his part time job, he couldn’t commit. Second, he never used his real name nor showed his face. He wanted to keep his anonymity intact. Hobi was cool being recognized around campus, Yoongi wasn’t. He loved being an enigma or flat out ignored because people thought he was cold. He didn’t want that to change. Lastly, he was strict about what he provided. He only offered hand kink and ASMR on his page. At first, he was unsure of how people would respond to it, but it was an instant hit, his subscribers grew by the day. His videos ranged from gripping his bed sheets, to unwrapping silk ribbons, to whispering or scratching in his microphone. For Christmas this past year, he blessed his followers with an ASMR of him moaning. The video was such a hit, he gained 40 followers in an hour from word of mouth alone. After his first year with ‘SIO’, he began offering his yearly subscribers an exclusive gift, a personal video of their choice from either of his categories. He was a success to say the least, earning a sweet living off this side hustle. The only reason he didn’t leave his part time job was because he didn’t know how to explain the extra money to his mother when she visited him. Not to mention, he rather enjoyed teaching kids the piano.

So, here he was at his computer desk, after having gone out and buying black laced lingerie and making sure they wrapped it pretty. He began to set up his camera to shoot his new subscriber her personal hand kink video. He smirked to himself as he slowly undid the black ribbon from around the package, making sure to twirl the soft material around his long slender fingers. He let the ribbon fall to the sides of the package, running his now stretched fingers along the front of the package, smiling again at how his veins bulged out of his hands. He soon tucked his index finger under the lid of the box, sliding his hand down and lifting the lid up to reveal the red tissue paper inside. He gently rubbed the pads of his fingers atop the dressing before gripping it hard into his fist, curling the delicate paper into a ball, and discarding it to the side. He again rubs his fingertips over the contents in the box, this time it’s the Italian lace lingerie he purchased. He licked his lips, even though the camera couldn’t see him do it. He purchased it with Y/N in mind. Imagining how the gorgeous lace would hug her hips perfectly. He pulled out first the thong, allowing it to hang from his middle fingers, then stretching the fabric out to show the detail. He then grabs the bralette, twirling the straps around his index fingers and sliding his thumbs under the back straps to showcase its detailed hand stitching. He next pulls out the garter belt, resting it atop the bralette and thong, he holds it down with one hand, yanking at the clasp and releasing so it snaps back. He places the items back in the box, running both hands down the fabric again, before bringing his hand up and shutting the camera off. He releases a sigh, setting up his microphone now for his next subscribers request, when he decides to make a phone call. “Hey Hobi, what’s your address?” He chuckles at Hobi questioning him. “Just send it in a text. I want to send something to Y/N, anonymously of course.” He smirks at Hobi’s protest. “Just send the address Hoseok, I’ll address it from a secret admirer.” He hangs up without another word, clearing his throat before he begins to record, he always liked to deepen his voice when he records, always sure to keep things anonymous.

Y/N:

First day of classes consisted of nothing more than getting acquainted with classroom locations and professors. This semester you had opted to do more classes online only taking three courses in person. Psych, Critical Writing, and Literature because you felt like you needed a professor to really drill these lessons into your head. “Hobi, I’m leaving, I’ll see you later!” You shout before heading out. You didn’t wait for a reply, running out to catch a cab to campus, too lazy to walk. The school was strict about wearing their uniforms which you hated because they were still stuck in their old ways and you were stuck in a plaid skirt and knee highs. You got to campus with enough time to grab a coffee. “May I have an iced americano please?” You tell the cute barista behind the counter, digging for cash. “Make that two.” Yoongi appears from behind you, handing money to the barista before you can and looking you over. “Nice knee highs.” He smirks. You roll your eyes at him. “Thanks for the coffee.” “Sure. Where are you headed?” “Class.” “Obviously. Where?” “Main building. I’m only taking three on campus. You?” “Two in person. The rest online. I think I’m going to pick up some more shifts at my part time gig. I need to lighten the load you know?” You nod at him. “Wanna grab dinner with me sometime?” He asks next. Your eyes pop open. “Me?” “Uh, yeah, definitely not talking to the plant behind you.” “Um, I don’t know. What would we talk about?” Yoongi shrugs. “Life, school, kinks. Whatever you’re into.” He licks his lips. You feel your cheeks flush under his gaze. “Yeah, I um, don’t know about that. I mean what’s with the sudden interest in me?” “Who said it was sudden?” “ICED AMERICANOS UP.” The barista calls out. You move past Yoongi and grab your drink. “I have to go. Thanks for the coffee again. I’ll see you around.” “You sure will, maybe even sooner than you think.” You scoff, walking out of the café.

You hurry towards the main building and into your first class taking a seat quickly. “You’re really quick you know that.” You hear from behind you, turning to find Yoongi taking a seat next to you. “Why are you here?” Yoongi pulls out his phone, flashing you his schedule. “Psych and Critical Writing are my two in person classes.” He tucks his phone away, chuckling at your shocked expression. “I’m going to kill Hobi.” You say finally. “Aw, come on. Don’t blame Hobi. I’m hard to resist. You’ll find out soon enough.” You laugh out loud. “You must not hear this a lot but I am not interested in you.” Yoongi smiles, turning towards you and leaning in. He whispers closely, his breath causing your hair to tickle at your ear. “Oh, my sweet Goddess, it turns me on when you lie. I am just dying inside to find out all the secrets you keep locked away. Just know, you don’t have to hide anything from me. I’ll never judge you; I just want to make all your filthy dreams come true.” You shudder slightly, swallowing hard. “I, you.” “Shh, don’t say anything. I’m ok pretending we don’t like each other a little longer. I’m incredibly patient.” “Good morning class.” You professor walks in but you can’t break away from Yoongi’s stare. “I am putting out the itinerary for the class and on it is listed all of your due dates for assignments. You can email me any questions you have but we will meet here in person on due dates only. Welcome to big kid Psych. Enjoy your day.” Everyone, including the professor, begin to leave. You and Yoongi however are still seated, staring at each other. “I have to go.” You mutter. Yoongi smirks. “Want company? I mean we are headed the same way after all.” You shake your head at first but eventually start nodding. Yoongi nods, putting his hand out for you to take. You place your hand in his and practically melt as he runs his thumb over your knuckles.

Yoongi:

Yoongi watches as her hips sway side to side, biting his lip. He just can’t help himself; she really is a Goddess in his eyes. He had always had a crush on her but she was always so consumed by school work and the one time she was out and about she dated some piece of shit tattoo artist that dropped out in year 2. Y/N looks back at him suddenly and he quickly lifts his gaze to meet hers. “Why critical writing?” Y/N asks. “It’s a requirement for graduation.” “Not because Hobi gave you my schedule.” Yoongi smiles wide at her. “No. I mean it’s a plus but I really needed to fulfill the requirement to graduate, same as you.” Y/N nods at Yoongi. You both enter the classroom and take your seats. “Where do you work? You mentioned a part time gig.” “At the rec center. I teach kids piano.” “Really? That’s awesome. Not what I was expecting at all.” She laughs, causing Yoongi to smile also, basking in her beauty. “Sorry I’m not some jerk of a tattoo artist.” Yoongi scoffs, looking over at her, realizing he’s fucked up by the expression on her face. “Well, he may have been a jerk in the end but he wasn’t always that way and his work was great.” She huffs. “I didn’t mean to imply his job was…” “Forget it. What do you know anyhow Mr. Serious Inquiries Only?” She snaps. Yoongi sucks his teeth. “I deserve that but I don’t get the reference seeing as how I never said I was on that site. So, I don’t know why you give me shit about it.” She cackles. “Give me a break. Your fancy bracelet and earrings. How about your designer clothes? You mean to tell me that you get that on some shit part time piano gig? But hey what do I know right? Maybe mommy and daddy pay for it like everyone else at this school.” “You mean like you? What do you do for work again?” Yoongi snaps, tired of the uppity bullshit.

“None of your fucking business.” She huffs, standing and moving her seat to a row ahead of Yoongi. He rolls his eyes at her ridiculous behavior. “You’re lucky I don’t take you over my knee.” He whispers to himself with a deep sigh. “Good morning class. Please come up and grab your guide for your end of the semester assignment. You will need a partner so please choose wisely. In addition, I will be giving weekly prompts for you to complete and submit to me via email. Any questions? No? Great! Have a great day.” Yoongi moves forward to grab the assignment. “Wanna team up?” He asks Y/N. “I’d rather drink acid.” She turns and walks away. “Come on. You want an A or not?” Yoongi says. She growls a bit. “Fine.” “I need your number.” “Uh, no.” “How are we going to do this then?” “Call Hobi.” She shouts, leaving the classroom. “Fuck.” Yoongi whispers, fearing he’s ruined his shot with her.

Y/N:

You burst through your apartment, throwing your bag onto the couch. Hobi jumps up and looks at you in fear. “Bad day? How? It’s just day one Y/N.” “Yoongi is a complete asshole. First, he tries to flirt with me, then he insults my relationship with Trevor, then he forces me to be his partner in our Critical Writing class. I hate him Hobi. I fucking hate him! Not to mention all my in-person classes are basically online because the professors are all assholes as well!” You shout, popping open a beer from the fridge and chugging it. Looking down at the counter, you notice a package with your name on it. “What’s this?” You look at Hobi angrily. “Uh, a gift but you know maybe you shouldn’t open it now.” He stutters. You yank the card off of it and open it. ‘These were handpicked for the most gorgeous prude I ever laid eyes on. Xo Your Secret Admirer.’ “This is a joke, right? You’re not fucking funny Hobi.” You rip the box open and your mouth drops at the Italian Laced lingerie inside. “No, Y/N, I didn’t…. this wasn’t me.” “Oh, so who was it then?” He looks at you with sheer panic strewn across his face. “You and your friend are both on my shit list.” You point at him, snatching the box and walking over to your room. “Wait, Y/N, I really didn’t buy that. Please let me explain.” You slam the door in his face, not feeling in the mood to entertain this further.

You look over the items in the box one by one, thinking back to the last time you wore lingerie. You shrug and decide to try it on. You look at yourself in the mirror snapping at the strap of the garter belt, and sucking in a breath as it stings your skin. You glide your hands up your thighs, belly, and cup your full breast, admiring how your nipple rings glint in the light through the fabric. You think back on your relationship with Trevor, he was the one who pierced your nipples. You smile at all the crazy antics the two of you found yourselves in. He enjoyed your wild side but took advantage of it at the same time. It was something that you regretted allowing him the chance to do. After you found out he was sleeping with girls from the tattoo shop he worked in, you broke up with him immediately, throwing all your time and energy into school, forever packing away that side of yourself. It wasn’t until your feelings for Yoongi sprouted that those feelings began to stir again and your wild side came scratching to the surface for freedom. You were just too afraid to free that side of yourself, afraid of being hurt again, taken advantage of. In allowing that fear to take over you though, had you truly become a prude? Perhaps it was time to unleash that side of yourself once more, find a balance. You stood tall, proud, turning and walking into the living room. “Hoseok,” You say with confidence, watching his eyes scan your body wildly, “You said when I was interested in your little website that you had the perfect person for me. Well, I’m interested.” Hobi couldn’t speak, he just nodded slowly. “Great. Whenever you get the chance.” You nod, and turn back to your room, making sure to wiggle your exposed ass with enthusiasm for good measure.

[agerefandom]

The TARDIS Playroom

Fandom: Doctor Who

Characters: Regressor!Thirteenth Doctor, Graham O’Brien

Words: 2,000

Summary: The TARDIS has had a playroom for a long time, and The Doctor doesn’t spend enough time in there. One day, while she’s regressing, Graham wanders into the TARDIS and finds her playing.

Warnings: Nothing that I can think of, aside from the accidental regression reveal! Little bit of baby talk around a pacifier near the end. Also, I didn’t bother to correct all my Canadianisms in this fic (ie. ‘pacifier’ instead of ‘dummy’), apologies if that bothers anyone!

for @andromedaspace​

It wasn’t often that The Doctor took a day off. There was always something interesting to do, somewhere to be, sometime that needed help getting back on track. But occasionally there was a lull: companions visiting families, no emergency broadcasts screeching through the TARDIS, just the hum of the ship and countless miles of corridors stretching into paradox space.

And then, maybe, if things had been busy lately, and there were injuries to nurse, and too many close calls… The Doctor would rest.

From the console room, the sounds of a Sheffield street could be heard through the front doors. Those doors were locked, the TARDIS tucked away into a little alcove between two fences down the street from Graham and Ryan’s house. Further into the TARDIS, music could be heard: an upbeat France Gall song. Hard to place the music in the twisting, impossible hallways of the TARDIS, but not impossible. Down a flight of stairs, and turning to the left, an open door revealed The Doctor’s current whereabouts.

Most of the TARDIS was warmly lit, crystals growing up the walls and in the centre of larger rooms. This room was no exception, stalactites hanging from the ceiling and providing a golden glow, but the floor wasn’t grated metal like the rest of the TARDIS. Here, the floor was covered in carpets, messily tossed over each other, and pillows and blankets on top of that, giving the room an appearance of a large and badly constructed bed.

The Doctor sat in the middle of the chaos, happily sucking on her pacifier. She’d chosen a new one after her most recent regeneration, blue and patterned with yellow jewels that sparkled in the crystal lights above her. A series of stuffed creatures were spread around her, some of the bigger ones leaning against the walls, and two of her favourites currently chatting in her lap, held up by her hands.

The policies of the N’ga’shto are more complicated than you’re making them seem! the blue Knashta was saying.

You’re being deliberately obtuse, his companion responded, a plush puppy The Doctor had picked up in Munich in 2032. The great Ish’ka is clearly a figurehead, and cannot be held responsible for the actions of his parliament.

The Doctor tilted her head back and forth between the two stuffies, making them bobble their heads as they argued. The act of playing pretend wasn’t something that had been practiced on Gallifrey, but the school-children were encouraged to debate foreign policy and challenge each other’s ability to recall the elders’ teachings. She enjoyed merging the two activities, watching her soft friends argue about things that mattered. If things got too intense or she got stuck, everything could be solved with a big hug and a nap. That was how playtime worked.

Sure enough, both the Knashta and unusually smart puppy were distracted when the next song came on, and started to dance, their soft legs tossing back and forth as The Doctor made them dance together. She laughed, her pacifier muffling the sound, and rolled onto her back, holding her plushies close. The puppy’s fur tickled her neck, and she pushed him off with a reproachful glance. The Doctor did not like to be tickled.

Well… did she? She certainly hadn’t, in most of her regenerations, but she didn’t think anyone had tried yet. Yasmin and Ryan would occasionally get into spats, trying to poke each other’s sides, but they never went after Graham or The Doctor. She would have to find some way to figure that out!

The Doctor ran her fingers down her sides, but it didn’t feel very ticklish when she did it. Sighing, she rolled over on top of her Knashta plush and rested her forehead on the carpeted floor. This was one of her favourites in the room, a rich oriental pattern that was so very soft to lie on. She ran her hands over the fabric, humming happily, and then pushed herself back to sitting.

It was while The Doctor was pushing herself up that she finally saw Graham standing in the hallway, hand raised as if to knock on the open door.

Her mouth opened in surprise and her pacifier fell out, landing on one of the pillows under her knees. She clutched her Knashta to her chest, automatically defensive. There was no reason to be scared, she knew, not of Graham, but this was her secret room, and he wasn’t supposed to see all this!

Oh, but she had been stupid, not asking the TARDIS to let her know if one of her companions used their key to come for a visit.

“I can go if it’s a bad time?” Graham said, finally lowering his hand from where it had been hovering by the door. “I didn’t mean to bother you, Doc. I texted a while ago and you didn’t get back to me.”

The Doctor had left her phone in the pocket of her normal clothes, which she didn’t wear at playtime. All at once, she was very aware of her bare knees. She loved her shorts and all of their many pockets, but they weren’t for people-time, they were for playtime! She tugged a pillow out of the pile and pushed it against her knees, frowning in Graham’s direction.

Then she felt bad for being rude: Graham hadn’t done anything wrong, after all. She was the one who hadn’t texted back.

“Ah, sorry,” she managed, gesturing for the TARDIS to turn the music off. “Don’t have my phone with me. Was it… important?” The Doctor tilted her head to the side.

“Not in the least,” Graham chuckled. “I was just wondering if you wanted to come for dinner, that’s all. Going to flex my cooking muscles, make some stir fry. Very impressive stuff.”

“Mmm.” The Doctor nodded, making her lips smile.

“Listen, I really am sorry for coming in without shouting first.” Graham pushed his hands into his pockets, looking guilty. “TARDIS has started to feel a little too much like home, but it’s your ship. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“No, no!” Oh, she’d made everything bad and now Graham would feel uncomfortable and he wouldn’t want to come and visit her anymore. “I, you can come anywhere! The TARDIS is your home! This room isn’t just for me, it’s nice for sleepovers, and… I can share?” The Doctor held her stuffie out in front of her, trying not to look too worried.

“That’s a nice gesture, Doc. May I come in?”

“Yes, of course! No shoes.” The Doctor sat back on her heels and watched Graham toe off his boots, stepping onto the soft patchwork surface of the carpets. He was looking around, and The Doctor followed his gaze: mismatched pillows, piles of soft bedding, stuffed animals bigger than she could wrap her arms around, all scattered across the space. Did Graham think it was weird?

“Do you hate it?” she heard herself ask. She never did have a very good brain to mouth filter.

“Hate it?” Graham seemed genuinely surprised by the question. “No, kiddo, it looks super cozy. How often do you spend time here?”

The Doctor attempted to untangle timelines in her mind, straighten them out along human measurements.

“Every few months?” she guessed, rubbing the Knashta’s head between its many button eyes. “Not a lot.”

“That’s a crying shame.” Graham folded himself into a sitting position in front of her, hands on his knees. “Space like this deserves lots of time. Look at all these blankets!” He looked at her for permission as he reached out, and The Doctor liked that. She gave him a nod, and he tugged one of the fuzzy blankets onto his lap. “There, now I feel cozy.” He tucked it in around his knees and toes, and settled down with a sigh. “Who’s your friend?”

“They’re a Knashta,” The Doctor said, fighting down a silly wave of shyness as she held her friend out for Graham to see. “They’re a rebel and they don’t like big leaders, but they lack revolutionary nuance.”

“And do they have a name?”

The Doctor shook her head. She didn’t name most of her stuffies because remembering all those names would take a lot of memory space, and she preferred to remember the names of all the real people she saw from day to day.

“Hmmm, would you mind if I gave them a name?” Graham asked, running a hand over his stubbly cheeks as he smiled. The Doctor knew that Graham only did that when he was really happy, and usually when he was outside in the sun. It was nice that he was doing it here, with her, in the crystal-lit playroom of the TARDIS.

“You can give them a name if you want.” The Doctor’s shoulders were starting to hurt from holding up the plushie, but she would hold them up until they received a name. Names were important, so Graham needed to look closely.

“Well, let’s think for a moment.” Graham rubbed his chin, pushed his eyebrows together, and pursed his lips. The Doctor fought down a laugh at his exaggerated thinking expression. “I’ve got it! They look like a Greg.”

“Greg?” The Doctor said dubiously, looking at the Knashta. Knashtar usually had much longer names, but sometimes they took shorter nicknames when visiting other planets. It could be short for Gr’egtha’shvantanos, which was a proper Knashta name.

“Undoubtedly.” Graham smacked his hands against his knees. “I’d know a Greg anywhere.”

The Doctor brought Greg back to her chest, hugging them firmly. Their eyes pressed against the bottom of her chin, but that was alright. No one said love was easy. “I love Greg.”

“They love you too,” Graham said.

“Do they?” The Doctor wasn’t sure why the question slipped out of her. All of her friends in the playroom loved her, and she loved them. That was what plushies were for, loving and being loved. Soft and simple and comforting.

“There’s not a person who can get a hug from you and not love you, Doc. Take my word on it.”

The Doctor hid her smile behind her newly named Greg, glancing up to see Graham with a matching grin.

“You dropped this, by the way.” Graham hooked a finger through the handle of her pacifier and brought it up. “Yours, kiddo?”

The Doctor nodded reluctantly. She had been hoping Graham hadn’t seen it, but he clearly had. That was one of the things that wasn’t a people-time thing. Even if it was very comforting and helped her think, even when she was big.

“Here you go.” Graham offered it to her and The Doctor opened her mouth automatically. Graham blinked: oh, he’d wanted to hand it to her. Before The Doctor could correct her mistake, he reached forward and popped the dummy into her mouth. She hummed, relaxing with the familiar pressure on her tongue.

“T’nk y’u,” she said around the pacifier.

“Not a problem,” Graham said, and patted her on the head. Oh, that was nice… she had so missed people touching her hair. Almost before she knew what she was doing, she chased the touch, pressing into Graham’s hand. “Oh! Hello.” Graham chuckled, but willingly scratching his fingers through her hair, all the way to the back of her scalp.

The Doctor melted, her head coming to rest on Graham’s knee, with Greg the Knashta held close against her. They were her new favourite. But also, Graham was her new favourite, as long as he kept petting her head.

“Well. You’re over here now,” he said, and moved a piece of her hair out of her face. “Big flop, Doc. Thinking about a nap?”

“M’ybe,” The Doctor sighed, closing her eyes as Graham started to comb his fingers through her hair again.

“I’ve gotta be home at six to start dinner, but there’s plenty of time for a nap before then. I’ll stay here with you.”

“L’v y’u,” The Doctor said, the world already getting softer around her. She could feel Graham’s affection and comfort radiating from his hands. Thanks to the physical contact, she was receiving vague thoughts and impressions, so she heard Graham’s response before he said it out loud.

“Love you too, kiddo. Sleep well.”

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki SSL Store Bonus Drama CD 《Their Youth~ Student Council Helper Episode～》

....Why are people subscribing to me on youtube? like i get that people subscribe for the otome stuff i translate and subtitle (which i only really do so that i can have a copy of it for myself), but i don’t really think that people should be subscribing if they expect more Gokushufudou content since I don’t have anything else that I can or want to translate for that series....

anyway, this is my translation of the 薄桜鬼SSL -sweet school life- いまじんWEBショップ特典ドラマCD「彼らの青春 ～生徒会助っ人編～」 drama. I was only able to obtain the audio for this from a certain site that doesn’t allow for sharing... so I am unable to put anything else out for this... unless someone shares the audio and an image with the cd and their username or w/e on it (alternatively, if it shows up on bilibili or something then i’ll be able to use that), though I will edit it when i make my own subtitles for this. lol. sorry but not sorry?

anyway, enjoy~  image used is from suruga-ya.

Hakuoki SSL Store Bonus Drama CD 《Their Youth~ Student Council Helper Episode～》

Translation by KumoriYami

Yamzaki: The private school, Hakuo Gakuen. The school we attend, based on the school principal, Kondou-sensei's, intentions, we adhere to his educational policy of "becoming warriors with indomitable spirit", not just while learning and when participating in club activities, but while also working harder for the community, or so it should be.... but there are always exceptions to everything in the world.

--------

Hakuoki SSL Store Bonus Drama CD 《Their Youth~ Student Council Helper Episode～》

 --------

(knocks)

Yamazaki: Excuse me, is Hijikata-sensei here?

Hijilata: Oh? It's Yamazaki. What is it?

 Yamazaki: Sanan-sensei asked me to bring these materials over to you. 

Hijikata: So it was like that. Thanks. By the way, Yamazaki....... Do you have a moment right now? 

Yamazaki. yes. I'm not doing anything right now.

Hijikata: In that case, sorry...... can you go to the student council to do something? Today Amagiri and Shiranui both happened to take the take the day off today, and there apparently is insufficient manpower on hand. 

Yamazaki: The student council.......is it......?

 Hijikata: Uh, the average person would react like that... I've already asked several people before asking you, and as soon as they heard "student council," they immediately ran away.

Yamazaki: I can sympathize with those students. because I am not really good at dealing with the student council president. 

 Hijikata: When it comes to that guy, I believe that if you searched the entire world, that you wouldn't find many people good at dealing with him. Nothing can be done though, I'll go help this time...

Yamazaki: Wha...!? How can Hijikata-sensei personally attend to this matter! In that case, I'll go help the student council!

Hijikata: Can you? To be frank, this is a chore.

Yamazaki: A gentleman's word is his bond!

 Hijikata: Then I'll leave it to you.... But if something goes wrong, you need to immediately report to me. 

Yamazaki: Yes! I'll be going to the student council room now!

(Yamazaki leaves)

Hijikata; Yamazaki is too straightforward... I hope he doesn't overdo it...

(student council room)

Yamazaki: (knocks on door) Excuse me. I'm the second year, Yamazaki. Hijikata-sensei entrusted me to help you.

Kazama: By Hijikata? Che, he's meddling into other people's business/can't mind his own business. He most likely coaxed you into helping, but whatever the case, if you think you can help, I will provide you this opportunity.

 Yamazaki: (Obviously he's in the position of receiving a favour, but why he so overbearing/arrogant?!)

Kazama: Did you say something? 

Yamazaki: I didn't say anything! Returning to the topic/Anyway, what can I help you with?

Kazama: here, put these clothes on first. 

Yamazaki:...What's with this collar and Japanese-style school uniform?! Our school's official uniform is a suit/Western-style clothes. 

Kazama: This uniform is of the same style as Amagiri's uniform. Although it's only temporary, you'll need it to wear this is you are to complete the student council's work [gave up rewording all of this].

Yamazaki: Even so! Modifying the uniform goes against the school rules... 

 Kazama: Hey! As student council president, I am saying that there are no problems! I am the school rules! 

Yamazaki: (How did such a person become the Student Council president?)

 Kazama: Good, now that you understand, hurry up and change clothes in the dressing room, then get to work.

Yamazaki: ( No other choice but to resign myself.... [tl uses an idiom that can mean "submit to hte will of the heavens," "resign (oneself to fate)," or to "leave it to luck"]) Understood!

(door opens)

Hijikata: Oi, Kazama! you there?

Kazama: It turns out it was Hijikata. What brings you here? If you want to leave please turn right and head straight.

Hijikata: Someone just came in, why are you already trying to chase them away! I was just worried about Yamazaki, so I came to check on him. 

Kazama: Yes. Then if you're done, hurry up and leave.

Hijikata: You bastard.... Anyway, where is Yamazaki?! I don't see him...

(door opens)

Yamazaki: Kazama-senpai, excuse me. I've finished changing clothes...

Hijikata:……Yamazaki?!

Kazama: Hrm. As expected, people rely on clothes [clothes do make the man? or clothes bring out a person? can't exactly think of an equivalent right now tho]. Such an appearance is barely passable. 

Hijikata: Wait a moment! What's with that strange uniform?!

Kazama: This is a custom-made uniform made for the student council. Since he's helping the student council, isn't it common sense to dress like this?

Hijikata: What common sense! That clearly violates the school rules... 

 Yamzaki: It's fine, Hijikata-sensei... 

Hijikata: Nn?

Yamazaki: I'll think of this as a a work uniform! Anyway, Kazama-senpai, about the content of that work...

Kazama: Che, don't tell me that you aren't able to do unless you receive orders from me? It's such a waste that you are unable to understand your superior's mind, and require someone to explain everything to you so that you can act. 

Yamazaki:...!!

Hijikata: I'm afraid that if you searched the entire world, the only person who would be able to understand your mind, would be Amagiri?!

Kazama: No choice then. I shall mercifully/gracefully provide instructions to those that are stupid. There will be a meeting to pay for club activities/budget meeting for all of the clubs tomorrow. However, only a handful of reports have been submitted, and what has been isn't sufficient to be used as materials/ a reference to approve of the clubs' expenses. In other words, you should go investigate for me to see if all of the club activities are actually being held. 

Yamazaki: Understood! Which clubs [tl is for "department] do I need to investigate?

Kazama: Needless to say, it's all the clubs within Hakuo Gakuen. The deadline is today.

Hijikata: Don't be so forceful [ridiculous!]!! Have you even thought about how many clubs there are at this school?!

Kazama: Amagiri and Shiranui would complete this within an hour, which this trivial matter cannot be considered a problem. If this can't be done, I won't force it. This only proves to me that you do not have a good eye for talent from the help you recommended to me, Hijikata [gave up rewording after 8 times].

Yamazaki:...I understand. I will certainly be able to investigate all of the clubs today!

Kazama: When the moment comes, don't go back on your word. This is a list of all the clubs at Hakuo Gakuen. 

 Yamazaki: The total number of clubs at Hakuo Gakuen is... 108?!

----------

(footsteps)

 HIjikata: Ah... it's been a while since Yamazaki darted out of the student council room... Is he really okay? I hope he didn't get involved in anything strange...

 Yamazaki: L-Let go of me! I, I hate this sort of thing!! 

Hijikata: Nn? 

 Yamazaki: Even if you say that you can't understand the specifics of this club without personally trying it, I don't want to do this...!!! Let go of me!!!

Hijikata; That voice just now.... Yamazaki? (runs over) Oi! Yamazaki!

---------

(bouncing sound [haven't listened to this drama in a while so this might not be accurate, tho the tl does say bouncing])

???: Ah....... Hijikata-sensei......

Hijikata: Oi! What's with this huge stuffed animal?!

Yamazaki: It's me! Yamazaki!

Hijikata: A-ah..... nn, nn.... I, I can hear your voice..... but, but what I hear doesn't sound like the Yamazaki I recognize...! 

Yamazaki: That's because of this [i think?]! I am the genuine Yamazaki! I'm just wearing this costume! Ah... sorry to trouble you, but can you please help me pull the back zipper down?

 Hijikata: Ye-Yeah...

Yamazaki: Hah... finally escaped from that...!

Hijikata: You... why were you dressed like that?! 

Yamazaki: Because.... when I went to the costume club, their members said they just finished these clothes, and that I had to try it on....

Hijikata:....Those animal overalls are part of a costume?

Yamazaki: No matter what happens, I never want to come back to the costume club!! But... normally I wouldn't have such a chance, and after seeing it with my own eyes, I now know that there are many clubs at our school.

Hijikata: That's because when Kondou-san was thinking about club establishment, he said to respect the individuality of the students. As long as the activities' content and purpose are clearly stated, provided that they aren't bad, and if the number of club members reaches a certain level, any club can be established.

Yamazaki: I think, by using the costume club as an example, there are actually quite a lot of informal clubs... 

Hijikata: It seems that it will be necessary to re-examine those clubs in the future.... Anyway, which club are you going to next?

Yamazaki: The mountaineering club. Judging from the club's name, the content of the activities should be straightforward. To be honest, I feel relieved. 

 Hijikata: No, that club... 

Yamazaki: Then, I'll be going there as fast as I can. I'll be taking my leave first! 

(Yamazaki leaves)

Hijikata: Eh... I remember they were supposed to go climbing today.... Going back to their activities, isn't mountaineering difficult [tl for mountaineering can be interpreted as "climbing," "to climb a mountain," and "mountaineering."]?!

------------------

 Yamazaki: (All sorts of problems kept on occurring after that during the inspection. The drama club was infected with an influenza virus [no idea how else to reword that right now], and all of their members were sick so I was unable to investigate their activities in detail; I wasted time at the kendo club because of Okita-kun's pranks; the mime club didn't speak during their activities, which resulted in even the most basic communication not being achievable... Will it really be possible for me to inspect all of the clubs today?)

-------------

(knocking)

 Hijikata: Oi, Kazama! I'm coming in. 

Kazama: Hijikata. It's really rude for someone to enter without being given my permission. 

Hijikata: Didn't I knock and say greetings in advance? It's almost the end of the school day, is Yamazaki back yet?

 Kazama: Not yet. I thought he was a bit capable, but I apparently underestimated him. 

Hijikata: I believe in him. Although he has a tendency to overdo things and often fails to get the key points, once he makes up his mind, he will surely be able to complete any task.

Kazama: Hrm~ that's the same as someone else/you're two peas in a pod. That being the case, let's bet. 

Hijikata: I'm not interested in betting with students. But if we were betting, I'd bet that Yamazaki will be able to accomplish his task. 

Kazama: Then I will bet that he did everything in vain/will be useless. 

HIjikata: I won't feel sorry for you if you lose. 

Kazama: Hmph. Don't steal my words. Look at the time, the school bell will be ringing soon. 

(Running then a door opens)

 Yamazaki: (gasping) Inspections on the club activities... it's all done.... hah....

Hijikata: That's great! Well done, Yamazaki!

Kazama: Che......

 Yamazaki: Hu..... Thank..... you..... (collapses)

 Hijikata: Oi oi!! Are you okay?! 

 Yamazaki: I..... I'm..... fine......

Kazama: Really, I'm blaming you for messing up all of the materials.... Nn?

Hijikata: What are those documents?

Kazama: They seem to be reports on the club activities.

Hijikata: Ha?! Didn't Yamazaki write the reports for that?!

 Kazama: Nn. These are all...

Hijiikata:....Oi! That can't be....!!

Kazama: It looks like Amagiri wrote yesterday. But he actually tossed them into the piles of documents of here, which resulted in no one knowing that he had written such reports. 

Yamazaki: What.....!!

Hijikata: That......!!

Kazama: Hmph. It looks like I won, Hijikata. All his efforts turned out to be worthless.

Yamazaki: Ho-How is that possible...!!

Hijikata: You're not feeling even the slightest bit guilty, are you even even speaking as a human?! This is all your student council's fault!!

 Kazama: Hmph. Go and complain to Amagiri.

Hijikata: You need to take responsibility for the lack of supervision! Besides, what the hell were you doing when Yamazaki was running around everywhere complete that task?! If you were doing a good job, you should have been able to notice this!! 

Kazama: Of course I'm working. My job is to complete the ambitious project called "Writing down all of My Wife's 100's Strengths/Virtues/Good Qualities"! These forms took me a week to complete and it is a magnificent written masterpiece! 

Hijikata: You bastard... you were doing something this stupid while Yamazaki was struggling!

 Kazama: What are you barking about? What's more important than this?

Yamazaki: I tore it up to show you————!! [im guessing this is more "i pushed myself" or "I'm going to tear that up." probably the latter]

Kazama: Nn? What do you think? Do you want to look at it? Although your efforts were futile, I will mercifully/graciously acknowledge your actions. Alright, I'll lett you look. But you have have to treat it carefully.

Yamazaki: I'm blaming this for what happened—!!! (tears up Kazama's documents)

Kazama: Stop that! My week of hard work! Hi-Hijikata! Why are you grabbing me?!

Hijikata: You reap what you sow! Obediently accept reality!! 

Kazama: My priceless masterpiece———!!!

~END~

got ME:LE working last weekend... and omg it’s like a walk down memory lane lol. finished the first game though im going to have to do an insanity playthrough for the achievement later. 

[jojoboisimagines]

Josuke x Reader :: Promposal :: Ch. 4

previous chapter                  next chapter

summary: A strange new transfer student has enrolled in Budogaoka High School. Josuke falls head over heels for her, but has a limited time to win her over before the school prom.

.::.

Spraying a crude amount of peppermint spray into his mouth, Josuke stood in the bathroom mirror making begrudgingly small adjustments to his outfit and hair. You had already agreed to tutor him, that hurdle was over with, now he just had to not mess up this study date. If it could even be called that.

He didn’t particularly know what drew most other girls to him, but decided against acting overly smooth, as that probably wouldn’t work on you (or in the movies he watched). Sensible, but not flirty is the direction he would decide to take this date in. For a moment, he contemplated that maybe he was planning too much for it. You didn’t seem like a picky girl, or that’s what he hoped for his sake. It looked more like you set high standards for yourself, but not everyone else. 

There’s nothing wrong with that, he thought. Josuke had done it himself ever so often. Especially with this whole investigation with the suspected serial killer in Morioh. He understood most of that situation was out of his power, but if there was one person that wanted to personally bring that guy to justice, it was him. Anyone else going for him except Jotaro would be too risky. The teenager had garnered all these new friends relatively quickly, and he didn’t want to lose them. He hoped that would include you too, if you would give him a chance with this friendship thing.

An annoyed eyebrow arches, noticing his hair started to look off. It was an easy fix, thankfully. After giving himself one more glance in the mirror, he internally smacks himself for overthinking again. Letting out a sigh, there’s an alternate conclusion he can come to. 

Maybe he should just be himself. Honesty is the best policy isn’t it?

His cobalt blue eyes widen at the doorbell ringing. With one more look at himself, (albeit forcing a smile just to see how it looks) He races back to the door to open it with a warm welcome.

“Hi (Y/N)-chan! I’m so glad you could make it!” Josuke beamed.

You smiled, greeting him back and walking into his home. Looking around, it looked a lot more..comfy than you thought it would. Not that you had assumed anything drastically different, but it was still nice.

There were books in your arms and a folder with your notes. You were dressed comfortably, clearly you weren’t aiming to impress him specifically. He could appreciate that.

“You look nice.” He was a little inclined to add ‘and a little less stiff without your uniform’, but decided against it. A blush quickly came across your features, focusing your eyesight on the books you set down on the glass table. Sitting down, you noted the game console in front of the television across from you.

“O-oh, uhhh..excuse all this stuff, I wasn’t planning on procrastinating or anything, I wanna take this studying stuff seriously.” Josuke goes to put away his games, before you quickly interject. “Nono, its completely fine. Its your house after all.” 

He freezes for a moment, before taking his hands off of the console and turning in your direction. 

“Oh! I should go get a chair so we can sit across from one another.” He does so in a flash. It almost comes across as if he’s excited to study, but you doubted that was the case. Josuke grabs the textbook and begins flipping through it to see which chapter the class was currently studying.

During this time, you really got a good look at him. This was different from the brief exchanges or even the meeting on the rooftop. He was right across from you, and pretty close at that. With a view like this, you could take in the sight of all his handsome features. It was surreal that someone like him was interested in you of all people. You wanted to ask, but this certainly wasn’t the time for it.

Though the thought passed through your mind a few times, was this a date? You weren’t sure if Josuke thought it was, but he wasn’t making it out to be one. One thing was apparent, you could relax more knowing this study session wasn’t meant to be taken so seriously in terms of your relationship.

Ah, got it! Chapter 15, right? Jeez, this chapter has some difficult words.”

Of course they didn’t look hard to you, it was your native language. But to Josuke, it might as well have been Calculus to figure out. Bringing your notebook out, you let out a hopeful sigh.

“Alright, lets get writing. I’ll guide you through the first few questions.”

Hours passed, and the two of you were now in his room. You had decided that it was time to take a 30 minute break, needless to say it had been much more than 30 minutes at this point.

You were getting tired, not even aware he had switched games. The books were on the floor with him, but his gaze had been glued to the TV for the longest time now. You had learned him talk more about the game he was playing than when you were actually studying. He wasn’t in too much trouble with the subject anymore, not enough to be worried about at least. Josuke would do well on his next test, you were sure enough of that.

If this wasn’t a date before, it sure as hell is one now.

You heard him mutter something else, probably about losing a hard level. Not that you didn’t care, your eyes were working against your urge to stay up. Hopefully he didn’t care too much about you falling asleep in his bed--or falling asleep at all. You’d leave if he asked, but it was too late for that at the moment.

It takes a few minutes for Josuke to realize you weren’t responding. When he turns around, he’s surprised. You falling asleep over his house? That’s something he would’ve expected from Okuyasu. Though perhaps that was a silly assumption. You were still human after all, and had already listened to him ramble about Megaman for like an hour. 

He lets out a yawn himself, he hadn’t bothered to check the time for a few hours. It had to be past 9 at least. Josuke needed to get rest, he gets all sluggish in the morning if he doesn’t sleep before 12. Getting up, he pulls the cover over you. God, you looked so peaceful while sleeping...save for that glob of spit at the corner of your mouth. He smiled, turning his console off and heading to the front room. Assuming you had already called your parents for a ride home, the teen fell over on the couch, quickly drifting to sleep as his head hit the pillow.

A real shame he forgot his mom got off work 20 minutes afterward.

[merakiaes]

Truth Will Set You Free - Oscar “Spooky” Diaz

Pairing: Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x reader 

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: None. 

Warnings/notes: This is not proofread so I apologize in advance for any mistakes, and I also apologize if it’s a mess😂 Let me know what you think xx

Wordcount: 2253

Summary: Oscar finds out you’ve been keeping it a secret from him that you come from a rich background and naturally, a conflict ensues. 

Oscar was fuming where you stood in front of each other in the living room of the Diaz residence, his hands balled into fists at his sides, constantly clenching and unclenching. 

You took in his rigid posture and met his murderous glare with no fear, throwing your arms out in exasperation. 

“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you.” You told him, shaking your head. “I knew you would react like this.”

He was up in your face in no time, poking a harsh finger into your shoulder as he glowered down at you. “Don’t even try to put the blame on me.” He seethed through his teeth, his lips pulled into a tight line. “You think I’m mad because you’re the daughter of some presuntuosa arrogante?” He questioned. 

You swallowed as he shook his head and let out a dry laugh.

“Nah, chica.” He continued, his face getting hard again. “I’m mad that you give me all this shit for not telling you every little detail of what’s going on in my life and then you go and pull something like this.”

You swallowed again, guilt bubbling up in your stomach at his words, that you quickly tried covering up with a glare of your own. You weren’t scared of him, not by a long shot, but when he was angry at you he made you feel so small. So vulnerable.

“It’s always something with you. Do rules not apply to you, ¿es eso? What happened to honesty is the best policy?” He continued, challenging you. “I had to find out find out from Sad Eyes that he saw you strutting around with some pedante in a suit in Brentwood. How do you think that made me feel?”

When his right hand had brought him the news, a regretful look on his face, Oscar had almost blown up from anger right then and there.

He’d been self-conscious and scared of you walking out on him for someone better ever since you first started seeing each other and his first thought when hearing this was that you were cheating on him.

Naturally, he had confronted you, and you had been forced to spill your entire life story, that you had been working so hard to hide the past few years. Reluctantly, you told him that the man Sad Eyes had seen you with was your father and that you had grown up in Temecula.

The first feeling he had felt was relief, knowing you weren’t seeing someone behind his back. But the relief had only lasted a few seconds, quickly being replaced by anger. Because even though the possibility of you cheating was now completely out of question, the betrayal still ran deep.

Cholos held no respect or acceptance for the rich bastards that lived effortlessly on the less fortunate’s hard labor. If it made the streets that he was dating one of them, things could get really bad. Not only for him, but for you, too, and even though he was basically fuming and absolutely resented you at this moment, he would rather die than see you get harmed.  

You couldn’t find the right words to say once he had gone off on you because even though it was hard for you to drop your pride and admit your fault in the situation, you knew he was right.

Wealth was a big thing to lie about in these parts. Privileged people weren’t welcome and you knew it. It was because of that you hadn’t told him. 

Partly, anyway. The rest of it was just you being a complete asshole; something you realized now that you stood in front of him and saw the angry hurt behind his eyes. It made your heart ache with regret.

“That’s what this is, huh? You’re with me because you want to act up? Get your father to notice you and give you attention? No más.” As you were momentarily stunned, fighting with yourself in your own head, he kept talking, breaking you out of your trance and pulling you back to reality.

And when those words left his lips you finally found your ability to speak, a glare settling on your face at his accusations.

“Do you hear yourself right now?” You asked. “Don’t you think our relationship would have ended a long fucking time ago if this was just some rebellious phase?”

You could understand why he didn’t trust you anymore, but this was just absurd, even in these circumstances. You had been with each other for over five years. Anyone would have been able to see that you were in it for the long run.

But Oscar only shook his head, taking a step away from you. “I don’t know what to think about you anymore.” He spat out, and you rolled your eyes.

“Now you’re just being dramatic.”

His eyes narrowed into slits and before you knew it, he had marched over to the front door with two long strides and flung it open, the loud bang cutting through the room as the door hit the wall behind it causing you to jump.

“Leave.”

As that one little word reached your ears and processed in your brain, you felt all of the anger you had previously been feeling melt right off. “What?” You questioned, voice small and stomach dropping.

It was only then you realized the severity of the situation, the panic settling in that he was truly about to cut you off.

He didn’t even seem to notice the fear now evident in your eyes, and even if he did, he didn’t seem to care.  He simply threw a head-motion to the door, urging you once more. 

“You heard me.” He confirmed. “We’re through. Go run away with some blanco, make your daddy proud.”

“I only live to make myself proud. Fuck everyone else.” You fought back, tears now starting to build up in your eyes.

When seeing your eyes turn glassy, he finally seemed to react, turning his head to look to the side in order to avoid your gaze. But he was persistent, nostrils flaring and chest heaving up and down as he breathed heavily. “I don’t give a shit. Go.”

You couldn’t hold back the small sniffle as the first tear fell, but you didn’t move. You couldn’t move. 

“You’re calling it quits after all this time, after everything we’ve been through together, because I was born into money?” You questioned, your question making him turn his head back in your direction.

“I got a rep to uphold around here.” He spat. His face remained stoic but as his eyes met your tearful ones, they turned slightly softer, a strain forming in his voice as if it was physically paining him to say. “I can’t be fooling around with no freza. Keeping you around will make Cuchillos and the boys doubt my loyalty. I gotta remember what I come from and stand by it.”

“I’m not asking you not to!” You exclaimed, walking over to him. 

He watched your every move as you reached out for his hand on the handle of the door. You expected him to back away from your touch, but he didn’t, letting you grab a hold of the hand and remove it from the door.

“We’ve been together for five years, have I ever asked you to change something about yourself?” You asked sadly, staring up at him. “Have I not been here every day and every night, patched you up without judgment every time you’ve gotten beat up and covered for you when the cops have been on your ass? Did I not visit you every week when you were in the hole and take care of your brother like he was my own during that entire time?”

His body remained tense and his face was still as stern and you could practically feel the anger of betrayal radiating off of him, but he let you speak, eyes not once leaving yours.

“My father cares more about his brand than he does about me.” You confessed, running your thumb over the back of his hand. “We don’t have a good relationship, we never have, and if it’s what it takes to get you to stop being a stubborn asshole and drop it, I’ll gladly cut him out of my life for good because you’re the one I want to live every moment of my life beside, even the moments like this when you’re acting like a complete cabrón.”

His eyes narrowed and his fist tensed in your hand. “Watch your mouth.” He scolded, staring down at you with a warning look. 

But the corner of his lip still twitched at the sound of the Spanish word leaving your lips. No matter the situation he would always get proud when hearing you pick up his language.

You gave him an apologetic look and waited, allowing him to process your words in his own time. A few seconds later, his body relaxed and he stepped away from the door, shoving it shut as he took a step closer to you.

“You’d really do that for me?” He questioned with a raise of his head and you nodded in return, squeezing his hand.

“Yes.” You let go of his hand and brought your hands up to his neck, pulling him down to your height. “I don’t need my father’s money or status to be happy, Oscar. I only need you.”

You smiled as you felt his hands make contact with your waist, pressing your forehead against his.

“You could marry rich. Get a stable life with a happy marriage, a family, a nice house in a nice neighborhood. I can’t give you what they can. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.”

His face was guarded as he spoke but you could see right through him. You would have been able to identify the self-doubt from miles away, without a second thought. 

“I don’t care. I don’t care about all that stuff.” You frowned, shaking your head.

“And that’s the problem.” He fought back. “Those things should matter. You deserve better than this shit. Being with me is not good for you, it never has been.” 

His eyes narrowed and his body tensed up again, but he still made no move to let you go.

Out of pure instinct, a glare settled on your face. “That’s not your decision to make.” You told him. “And you know damn well I would slap the living shit out of you if you ever tried to make it for me so don’t even think about breaking up with me because you think that’s what’s best for me. I’m the only one who gets to decide what’s good enough for me. Not you, and certainly not my dad.”

“I’m not good for you.” He kept persisting, glaring back, causing you to shake your head, your foreheads rubbing together.

“No, you’re not good.” You agreed, and you saw his jaw tense for the slightest second. “You’re the best for me. You been treating me real good, papi. Better than anyone else.”

Before he could even think of a response, he felt your lips tilt up and make contact with his. His hands automatically squeezed down harder on your waist and his feet moved closer until you stood pressed together by your chests.

You smiled into the kiss, hands placed on either side of his face. When you broke apart, his eyes remained closed, allowing you to admire his features.

“You’re too good for me, mamita.” He spoke, hands now caressing circles on your waist. “I don’t deserve you.”

You caressed his cheeks right back, nodding your head. “Yeah, you do. Ride or die, for better or for worse, remember?” 

You touched your nose against his. “No marriage will be happy if it’s not with you and you’d catch me dead before I get pregnant with a temecula. I only want you. And I know that you want me to, no matter how tough you try to make yourself.”

His eyes opened at that, and your heart swelled when your eyes made contact with his deep browns. “I want you more than anything, mi amor.” He confessed, and you pouted slightly.

“Then give me a chance to let me prove to you that you’re worth more to me than my family’s money.” You begged. “Let me show you how much I really love you.”

His eyes fell shut once more, his hands squeezing your hips as he battled with himself and you bit the inside of your cheek, anxious that he was still going to want you to go your separate ways.

After a good few seconds of standing in silence, he released a heavy breath through his nose and his eyes opened once again. 

He stared at you, jaw tense and eyes warning. “If I find out you’ve been lying about some other shit-“

“You won’t.” You hurried to cut him off, your eyes widening as you shook your head frantically. “I’m really sorry I lied to you, Oscar. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

He nodded his head, “Te perdono.” He muttered. 

Before you could say anything back he pulled you into an embrace and you happily obliged, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your head on his chest, closing your eyes as you listened to his heartbeat.

It was clear by the look of his hard stare and the feel of his still tensed up body that he was still very angry, but you were forgiven and at the end of the day, that anger would be as good as gone because he knew you would follow through with your promise and chose him undoubtedly. Just like you had for the past five years. 

[rebeccatherine]

Reconnaissance

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Rating: Mature Characters: Sharon Carter (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Arthur Parks Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Espionage Summary: Sam Wilson accompanies Sharon Carter on an undercover SHIELD mission.

Read on AO3 under the pseud rebeccavis or below.

Sam had offered to sleep on the floor. He said he was used to it from his days in the military, which Sharon understood; Steve had mentioned to her offhandedly before that his bed never felt quite right. However, on this occasion the bed was probably the safest place for both of them. As she had pointed out to Sam, they had a clear view of the window from there should they need it and, if anyone decided to check in on them, it would look a little strange for a doting wife to be alone in a king-size bed. Sam, after looking horrified by the notion of someone spying on him while he was asleep, eventually conceded. 

“Sorry.” Sam’s whisper had been preceded by the sound of something soft hitting the floor. “Why do they give you so many dang pillows?”

Sharon chuckled. “I don’t know,” she admitted, “Rich people shit?”

Their backs were turned to each other and, even if they hadn’t been, Sharon doubted she’d be able to see much of anything in the darkness of their isolated cabin. She heard a soft rumble from next to her, though, and could see Sam smiling in her head. “Rich people shit,” he agreed.

Sharon supposed she was meant to go to sleep now. While she hadn’t served in the military, she’d had her fair share of sleeping in strange places as a SHIELD agent, many of which had been far less comfortable than where she was at the moment. Even so, this was maybe the first time she was worried about having trouble drifting off. Her mind was usually where she felt it should be: focused on the job and what steps she needed to take to ensure its success, including getting a good night’s sleep. Tonight, her mind was for some reason lingering on terms of endearment, unexpected compliments and arms wrapped tenderly around her waist. 

She felt Sam’s weight shift slowly next to her and suspected he was turning over onto his other side. It was something she had been thinking about, too, although now it meant they’d be face to face, which would be weird. Or would it? She settled for rolling over onto her back instead to stare at the ceiling. Her eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, and she could just about trace the outline of the wooden beams above her head.

“Hey, Shar?” Sam’s voice was soft, but so unexpected that she froze for a split second. “Can we talk?”

*

“Sam? Is my purse out there?” Sharon had raised her voice a little, hoping she’d be heard from outside the bathroom where she was putting on her makeup. 

“Uh...yeah, I see it, baby,” she heard Sam reply, emphasizing his last word significantly more than was necessary, “Do you need it?”

“Oh, I think I left something in there, but I can…” Sharon trailed off as she heard footsteps in her direction and then a gentle rap on the door she hadn’t bothered to lock. “You can come in. I’m almost done.”

The door opened with a click and Sam stepped in, offering up a smile as his eyes met hers. She could tell there was a slight nervousness to his expression, at odds with how comfortably the bespoke dark suit he was wearing fit him.  

“Almost, huh?” he said, his tone playful.

“Wouldn’t want to forget my lipstick,” Sharon explained, reaching over to take her small silver clutch from his hand, “Thanks.”

“Yeah, you’d look terrible without it,” Sam teased, to which Sharon chuckled. 

Having reclaimed the missing item from her purse, Sharon turned back towards the mirror to apply the deep red shade to her lips. It reminded her of the colors her aunt had always been fond of wearing, perhaps even more so because, like her aunt once had, she was currently sporting brunette shoulder-length curls. Her dress, on the other hand - red, full-length, with a front slit and a mostly open back - was probably something Peggy would not have opted for unless she had also been undercover.  

“Just to be clear - you look amazing, Shar.” She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of Sam’s words, then directed a grin at him.

“So we’re not going with ‘baby’?” she asked. 

Sam’s brow furrowed. “Damn it.”

“It’s OK, you don’t have to worry. While you were out I put a bug killer in one of the lamps by the bed, so nobody’s listening in on us,” Sharon assured him as she turned around, “It’s good to get some practice, though.”

“I just thought ‘baby’ would be easier,” Sam explained, “I’m worried I’m going to forget to call you by your cover name.”

“‘Baby’ works great. I’ll go with it, too.” Sharon gave a nod to indicate she was ready to go, then emerged with Sam into the bedroom. “Look, I know this undercover stuff isn’t exactly your thing, but I promise you’re in safe hands,” she added, “Besides, it’s not like you have to put on a British accent or anything.”

“Thank God,” Sam noted, “I bet you can do a great British accent. You have family from there, right?”

“Yeah, that’s an easy one for me. My grandfather’s whole side of the family is British.”

“Did they teach you any fun British slang?”

“Plenty, but I’m pretty sure it’s all from the fifties so I’m totally out of date.” Sharon gave a small shrug of her shoulders. “You know my aunt used to call me ‘Shaz’ sometimes?”

“Shaz?” Sam echoed. His eyebrows raised as he shot an endearing glance at her, clearly entertained by the idea. “That’s amazing. Can I call you ‘Shaz’?”

“Absolutely not,” Sharon replied, though she kept her tone light.

“Noted. Although I make no promises after this mission is over and I’ve found the nearest place where I can get a daiquiri,” Sam noted, “You don’t have to join me, though.”

“Maybe I’d be OK with it under those circumstances,” Sharon conceded with a smile, “I do like ‘Shar’, though.”

Sam looked pleased with himself. He made his way over to the bed to pick up Sharon’s coat, which he offered to her. “Trust me, I’ve worked with you enough and heard enough to know I’m in the safest of hands,” he affirmed, “I just don’t want to get in your way. Do the photos look good?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re perfect. All you need to do is distract Parks and I know exactly where I need to go,” Sharon slipped her arms into the outstretched garment, shrugging it over her shoulders and gently tugging her hair out from underneath it. “Tell Redwing I said thanks.” 

“I will,” Sam replied after a small pause, “So we’re in, we talk to the party guests for a bit, you go download the files, and we’re out. Pretty straightforward apart from the fact that our ride isn’t coming until tomorrow morning.”

“So unlike Maria to not come pick up her friends after a party, but what can you do?” Sharon joked, “I think we’ll be OK to spend the night in our luxury log cabin.”

“I can always take the floor,” Sam said. 

“We can talk about that later. Let me give you your comm.” Sharon’s purse didn’t have room for much besides her lipstick and some cash, but the communication devices - one of which she handed to Sam - barely took up any space at all. “Is there anything else we need to go over?”

“I don’t think so. I’m glad we have these,” Sam admitted, then something seemed to occur to him, “Oh, I was going to ask you about ground rules. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable, but I know we’re supposed to be married...I guess I don’t know how this usually works.”

“When we’re in the field pretending to be a couple we tend not to go overboard on public displays of affection unless the intention is to make someone else feel uncomfortable. Honestly, though, I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I trust you.” Sharon exchanged a small smile with him, and was glad to see he looked a little relieved. 

“Alright, then, Mrs. Dixon. Let��s go.” Sam offered up his arm, which Sharon took as they made their way down the wooden staircase to the living room. “This is some really weird rich people shit, you know. What kind of person owns what looks like an English mansion in upstate New York and makes his friends hire out nearby log cabins with no cellphone service just to attend his party?”

Sharon laughed, partly because it sounded a lot like something Tony Stark might do. “I’m glad you got that off your chest,” she commented, “And you’re right. Unfortunately, tonight I think we’re going to have to deal with a lot of rich people shit.”

*

“Name?” The man at the entrance to the mansion was dressed as a butler and peering at Sam as if he was a curiosity, which gave Sharon a strong urge to kick him in the face with one of her high heels. 

“Dixon. Sean Dixon,” Sam told him with a confidence that meant Sharon didn’t have to force a smile. She gave his arm an affectionate squeeze, having kept her own wrapped around it for most of the drive over.

“Ah, yes, and you must be the lovely Cherie Dixon.” The butler pronounced her name with a perfect French accent, so Sharon naturally had to correct him.

“Oh, it’s ‘Sherry’, but believe me, if I could say it your way I would,” she declared. The giggle she gave along with her words was fake but well-practiced, unlike the smile the butler gave her in return which was simply fake.  

“If you would be so kind as to step into our testing area,” the butler instructed them. 

Sharon gave a small nod which Sam mirrored, and the two of them made their way inside. Out of the corner of her eye, Sharon noticed that their ride - a chauffeured limousine that had been provided by the owner of the mansion - was still waiting in the extended driveway. She wondered what instructions the chauffeur had been given should she and/or Sam turn out to be mutants.

They had both been briefed early on that the party had a strict policy against mutants attending. It wasn’t a particularly new development; there were many, particularly those in power, who didn’t like that mutants could often hide in plain sight unlike most of the Avengers. What wasn’t clear, however, was how such policies were being enforced, and that was one of the things she and Sam had been tasked with finding out.

“Please give me your left index finger.” Sharon had been ushered along with Sam through the first door on the left, where a line of men and women dressed as old-fashioned footmen and maids were holding anachronistic devices that were roughly the same shape as a large calculator. She glanced at Sam, who just barely raised his eyebrows, then turned to the woman who had addressed her. 

“Here you go,” she said, letting go of her companion’s arm to present her left hand to what she assumed was a lab technician-turned-maid. The woman clearly didn’t have much in the way of bedside manner, as she pricked Sharon’s finger with a needle without so much as a warning. She then instructed her to press the small drop of blood to a pad on the device she was holding, where a bright light shone behind Sharon’s finger before she received a reading. 

“NO X-GENE DETECTED,” the screen flashed. 

“Is that good?” Sharon asked, her eyes wide.

The woman who had tested her all but rolled her eyes. “Yeah. That’s good,” she said, then turning to Sam, “You’re up next.”

Sharon’s eyes darted around to the other would-be house staff while Sam was similarly tested for his lack of a mutant gene. The devices they were using were unfamiliar to her, and she could almost make out a logo on the back of them but not quite. For now, she just made a mental note to try to steal one of the devices before they left the mansion for the night. 

“NO X-GENE DETECTED,” the screen flashed again, and Sam was also cleared to go out the door and back into the foyer.

“I feel like she drew way more blood than she needed to,” Sharon remarked, shaking her head. The needle prick didn’t really bother her at all and she’d had far worse injuries in the field, but Sam had been very quiet so far and it was starting to unnerve her how differently he was acting compared to his usual self. She hoped that she might be able to help him relax by drawing him into a conversation. 

“Oh, yeah?” Sam’s response wasn’t very encouraging but he did offer her his hand, which she took. 

“Maybe she was just jealous,” Sharon mused playfully. Sam had taken her hand in both of his and gently turned it over. “What are you doing?”

“Just surveying the damage,” Sam said with a hint of a smile, “You think she was jealous of your ring?”

Sharon had managed to almost forget about the 2 carat, heart-shaped engagement ring and matching wedding ring on her left finger. Sam clearly hadn’t, though, and she was glad he seemed to be settling into his role. “I think she was jealous of my gorgeous husband,” she replied, “You do look very good in that suit, baby.”

“Well, you look good in pretty much everything, baby,” Sam replied. Something about the way he was looking at her took Sharon off guard, and she was surprised to feel the back of her neck grow hot. Sam was apparently a better actor than she had given him credit for.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice coming out quieter than she intended at first. She cleared her throat and then added: “You’ve always known how to compliment a girl.”

“Isn’t that why you married me?” Sam teased. He let go of her hand and offered his arm to her again. 

“One of many reasons,” Sharon replied with a grin. She accepted his offer and then nodded towards an open doorway that led into what appeared to be the living room. “Everyone seems to be heading in there and it looks like they have drinks, so I vote we go check my coat and then we follow,” she suggested. 

“Lead the way, Cherie.” Sam managed a pretty decent impersonation of the butler from earlier, and Sharon laughed.

“Shut up.”

*

“Sher-ee.”

“Sher-ee,” Sharon repeated, butchering the French guttural ‘R’ sound as if she hadn’t had plenty of practice speaking French in her line of work.

“Eh, close enough.” The woman seated in a small, cream-colored armchair across from Sharon and Sam shrugged her shoulders with a smile, tossing her shoulder-length blonde bob. Sharon didn’t know too much about her yet but she did know that her name was Marie, she seemed to speak better French than Sharon did even when she wasn’t pretending, and - most importantly - she was their ticket to the person they were looking for. She seemed younger than Sharon, maybe twenty at most, and eager to make conversation. Sharon had spotted her chatting with the host of the party earlier, and all they needed to do now was get her to lead them to him.

“Didn’t you tell me your name means ‘darling’?” Sam asked, glancing at Sharon. They were sitting on a powder blue couch, his arm resting gently around her shoulders. 

Sharon all but batted her eyelashes. “That’s what my mom always said.”

“Yes, she was correct,” Marie said enthusiastically, “From chérir, to cherish.”

“Like the Madonna song,” Sharon joked. Sam chuckled, but Marie’s blank expression suggested to Sharon she’d been right about the other woman’s age.

“Clearly your mother chose well,” Marie continued, “You make a wonderful couple.”

“Thank you. I feel like I can barely remember what life was like before Sean,” Sharon said, all smiles, “We’re a good team. He makes up for all the things I’m missing.”

“Come on, baby, there isn’t anything you’re missing,” Sam insisted. 

“It’s OK, I know I’m not the smartest cookie in the cookie jar,” Sharon retorted, “But you, on the other hand...I’m telling you, Marie, you’re looking at the world’s next Tony Stark.”

“My wife likes to brag about me,” Sam told Marie, “I also love to hear it, though, so it all works out.”

“So you are interested in technology?” Marie asked.

“I’m working on starting up my own tech company,” Sam explained, “Cherie’s father is an investor and I’m looking for a few more.”

“In that case, you should definitely talk to Arthur if you haven’t yet. I know he’s always looking for new collaborators,” Marie said, “You know the mutant detectors that scanned your blood when you first arrived?”

“So that’s what they were?” Sharon mused out loud.

“Wait, did Parks provide the lasers they use in those?” Sam piped up.

Marie grinned. “Yes. He and Trask are hoping they’ll be able to make them available to the mass market soon.”

“That’s impressive,” Sam said with a nod, “Do you work with him?”

“Oh, no.” Despite Marie’s reply, Sharon could tell she was flattered by the notion that she might be involved in Arthur Parks’s company. Nice going, Sam. “I’ve just known him since I was very young. Arthur’s wife, Lucy, knew my father and when I was growing up he wasn’t around very much...the Parks practically raised me.”

“Well, clearly you’ve picked up a lot from them. I’m around Sean all the time and I still don’t really understand his work,” Sharon said with a laugh.

“I actually had been hoping to get a chance to talk to Mr. Parks. I’ve never met him directly but from talking to friends of his I really think we’d have a lot to offer each other,” Sam affirmed.

“Then allow me to introduce you,” Marie offered, “Trust me, it would be my pleasure.” 

*

“Alright, Sam, I’m in the study. Clear your throat if our friend is suitably distracted.”

Sharon soon heard Sam’s subtle assurance over her comm, although she almost didn’t need it because she could also hear Arthur Parks droning on in the background. She felt relieved that she had only had to stand next to Sam and pretend to be interested in the man’s work for a relatively short time before, as she had expected him to, Parks had invited ‘Sean’ to join him and a couple of other men for a cigar. Sharon had then spent a few minutes in Marie’s company before excusing herself to use the powder room. Her companion had offered to go with her, but Sharon had managed to convince her that she needed some privacy when she implied that she might be taking a pregnancy test. 

“I’ll be as fast as I can and keep you updated. Sorry this has to be a one-way conversation,” Sharon told Sam. 

When she thought about it, there were quite a few things she felt as though she wanted to apologize to Sam for. This wasn’t supposed to be his mission in the first place, for one. The original plan had been for Steve to accompany her, until the discovery that more than a few guests at the party had ties to HYDRA had made it impossible for Steve to go incognito. Sam had the technical expertise to both help in the field and impress Parks, so he had been the natural choice. The world of espionage was far from Sam’s natural environment, though, and even though he’d been doing well so far, Sharon felt a sense of responsibility in making sure nothing happened to him. That feeling was coupled with a decent-sized amount of guilt that she would actually rather be on a mission with Sam than Steve at the moment. 

“I’ve got to admit I’m a little envious of you, Dixon. It sounds like your story’s just starting and you have a world of opportunities ahead of you. I remember when it felt that way for me.”

Sharon rolled her eyes as she took her lipstick out of her purse and popped a concealed flash drive out of the bottom of it. She had little to no sympathy for the plight of someone like Arthur Parks. 

“I do feel very lucky,” Sharon heard Sam’s voice say, “Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve definitely had to hustle, but the hustle was worth it.”

“Hacking in now,” she informed Sam quietly, the flash drive now inserted into Parks’s personal laptop. 

“Mmmm, and I’m sure having a rich wife can’t have hurt. I wasn’t so lucky.”

Arthur Parks’s use of the word ‘wasn’t’ gave Sharon pause. They hadn’t been given any intel on his marriage having recently fallen apart, although it was a little odd that his wife Lucy didn’t seem to be in attendance at the party.

“A word of advice, Dixon, although it’s probably too late,” Parks continued unprompted, “Always sign a prenup.”

Sam gave what sounded like a slightly nervous laugh. “I don’t think I need to worry about my wife.” Sharon was about to tell him not to be afraid to throw his wife under the metaphorical bus if he needed to, but a third person with an English accent spoke up before she had a chance. 

“I think this one’s a lost cause, Arthur.” Sharon had heard the man introduce himself as Jonathan Wilson a little bit earlier. “You and your wife seem very much in love.”

“I really think it’d be hard not to fall in love with Cher,” Sam declared. Sharon noticed his ‘Cher’ sounded a little close to ‘Shar’, but hopefully nobody else would pick up on it. “I mean, you’ve all seen how beautiful she is but on top of that she’s so...brave, and talented, and just so competent…”

Sharon couldn’t help the smile that crossed her features for a moment, even if it quickly vanished as she realized she was listening to a bout of silence. Either something had gone wrong with the comms or Sam had paused awkwardly mid-sentence and although the latter was preferable, it still wasn’t ideal. 

“...at making me happy, you know what I’m saying?” Sharon heard a few ripples of laughter following Sam’s joke, and she breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. 

“Nice recovery,” she told him, “Alright, I’m in. Just keep doing your thing, but maybe don’t lean into the doting husband role too much. I don’t see so much as a picture of Athur’s wife in his study and it sounds like things got ugly.”

The conversation took more of a business slant again and Sharon was able to relax ever so slightly, continuing to listen while she went through the files on Arthur Parks’s laptop. She had always found it a little ironic that the objective of any given mission, like this, tended to be the easiest part. Getting in and getting out were usually the parts that you had to worry about. 

“Looks like the intel we got was solid. Parks is definitely trying to build himself some kind of team, but I think SHIELD will have to dig deeper to find out what for,” Sharon informed Sam, “I’m copying the list of contacts and his correspondence. Lots of familiar names here, several associated with HYDRA...and Georges Batroc. Interesting.”

“Anyway, I’m sure you’re tired of listening to me by now. Maybe I can get my laptop and show you some photos of all the places Parks lasers have been used. Who knows, I might even give you some ideas about where they haven’t.”

Sharon stiffened as she glanced at the progress bar in the corner of the computer screen. “I’m not done,” she said after hearing Arthur Parks’s words, “Sam, can you stall him?”

“I...think I already have some ideas, actually,” Sharon heard Sam say, “Marie mentioned you were interested in music, and I…”

“Marie thinks she knows a lot more than she actually does,” Parks interrupted, “My wife is the music lover. Not that her taste in music is any good.”

“Marie’s just a kid,” Sam noted softly, “They always think they know a lot.”

“Not that much of a kid.” Arthur Parks’s voice was quieter than before and Sharon was having a hard time hearing him. “It’d be nice if she acted like more of an adult every once in a while.”

“Almost there,” Sharon said to Sam. Her fingers were hovering over the flash drive, ready to retrieve it the moment it was finished copying the files. “Just keep him talking.”

“Well, she has nothing but nice things to say about you and your wife, so it seems like you taught her something,” Sam said, managing to keep his tone jovial, “She said you practically raised her?”

“You seem to be very interested in Marie,” Parks commented. Sharon thought she might have heard the sound of a clinking glass. “Wilson?”

“Yeah?” Sam answered at the exact same time as another voice that Sharon presumed belonged to Jonathan Wilson did. 

Shit. Sharon watched the progress bar creep towards the end far too slowly for her taste as Arthur Parks offered Jonathan Wilson a drink. 

“Sorry. I thought you said Dixon,” Sam said sheepishly.  

“Well, I was also going to ask you a different question,” Parks said, “You a Scotch drinker?”

 “Sometimes,” Sam answered. 

“Sometimes,” Parks echoed with a chuckle, “Where are you from again?”

“New York,” Sam replied, “City. The City. Harlem.” He clearly remembered his cover story but seemed to be having trouble keeping his nerves under control. 

“Right, right.”

“Got it,” Sharon declared, “I’m going to close up here and I’ll come knock on the door looking for you.”

“There’s something about your accent, though…” she heard Parks muse while she stowed the flash drive away back in her lipstick tube, “Sometimes it sounds a little off to me.”

“I can’t pick up on anything...but then, I don’t suppose I’d be able to,” Jonathan Wilson commented with a chortle.  

Sharon stood up after closing Parks’s laptop, making sure it looked just as it did when she had first found it. She felt as though she could practically hear Sam’s heart beating faster, or perhaps it was just her own. “Hey, don’t be afraid to change your backstory a little if you need to,” she encouraged him, “The easiest lies to tell are the ones with a bit of truth.”

“How did you know?” Sam said, feigning being impressed, “My dad is from Louisiana. I don’t even notice it most of the time but Cher tells me sometimes the occasional word slips out.”

Sharon smiled to herself. The door to the study was closed behind her and from there it was only a quick trip across the hallway to where she needed to be. Granted, it was quite a large hallway. 

“I knew it,” Parks declared, “I’ve been to Louisiana a couple of times. New Orleans is a great…” 

Sharon knocked loudly at the door. When Arthur Parks pulled it open, he was greeted with the sight of her with her hair slightly dishevelled and grinning from ear to ear. 

“Can I help you, Mrs. Dixon?” he asked. 

“I just thought I’d stop by to rescue my husband,” Sharon answered.

*

It was getting in and getting out that you had to worry about. Getting to the party had required a lot of planning, from SHIELD providing Sharon and Sam with aliases and a mission briefing to their conversations on the flight to New York. During that time they had also planned how they’d be getting out, but that plan hinged on everyone perceiving them as nothing more than party guests. To that end, what they couldn’t do was leave the party at the nearest opportunity. Rather than make more small talk, Sharon had suggested they head to the ballroom and she didn’t think she’d ever seen Sam look more relieved. 

“So do you think I thoroughly destroyed your chances at entering into a business deal with Arthur Parks?” Sharon wondered playfully. She had to lean in close to him to be heard over the music, but that was easy to do when they were dancing.  

“Oh, I think those chances are pretty much roadkill by now,” Sam replied, making her chuckle, “That’s alright. I think if I’d had to listen to him for another half hour I’d have lost my mind.”

“I wouldn’t blame you. It’s his loss, at any rate.”

“Sure is. For a successful businessman, he seems pretty good at losing things.” Sam lifted his arm and gently twirled her around while she barely hid a grin. 

“You can spin me more than that,” she said, “I used to be a figure skater, you know.”

“Wait, really?” Sam closed the small distance between them as the song changed to one with a slower tempo, his hands coming to her waist. 

“Oh, yeah. My mom taught me to ice skate when I was a kid,” Sharon explained, “Have you ever tried it?”

“No, I haven’t, but I always thought it looked fun,” Sam replied, “I guess it’s probably a bit like flying.”

 “Well, I’ve never flown, but to me it feels a lot like flying.” Sharon let her arms rest around Sam’s shoulders almost without thinking about it. “I’m a little out of practice, but I still go sometimes. I’ll take you - maybe before rather than after we go to a bar for that daiquiri.”

Sam seemed to like that idea if his grin was any indication. “You’ve got yourself a deal.” He glanced over his shoulder momentarily and then leant in so that he could lower his voice even more, speaking softly  close to her ear. “You just need to go on a few more ops with me if you ever want to try flying.”

Sharon was surprised not by Sam’s gesture but her own reaction to it. She’d seen him harmlessly flirt with other people before, especially Natasha, and she enjoyed flirting herself when the occasion called for it. The unusual part was feeling her neck grow hot and letting her gaze linger on his lips when he pulled back. “I’d like that,” she admitted, “You’re a good partner.” 

Sam smiled again.

Sharon swiftly decided that she should keep talking, mostly because she wasn’t sure what she’d do if she didn’t. “Hopefully next time you’ll get to have a little more fun,” she told him.  

“Hey, I’m having fun,” Sam insisted, to which Sharon raised her eyebrows. “I am now, at least.” Sharon laughed. “I do wish the music was a little better.”

“Mmm, some Marvin Gaye, maybe?” Sharon suggested.

“For starters,” Sam replied, a hint of suspicion in his smile. 

“You know who probably would’ve picked better music?” Sharon said. She was struggling to keep a straight face before the punchline of her own joke, which she decided to attribute to a combination of both the high and relief from having completed a large part of their mission. “Arthur Parks’s wife,” she just about managed to get out before she burst into laughter, hiding her face in Sam’s shoulder. She heard him laughing as well, which only made it more difficult for her to compose herself, but at least she figured the other party guests wouldn’t think much of it. 

“You’re a great partner,” Sam declared, then adding, “We’re good to stay here for the rest of the party, right?”

Sharon nodded, pressing her lips together to suppress any remnants of her giggles. “I did just tell you that I’m pregnant, after all.” Sam’s eyes widened almost comically for a moment before he seemed to remember the excuse Sharon had used to get rid of Marie. 

“Of course,” Sam joined in, “We can name the kid Laser.”

Sharon had to cover her mouth with one of her hands to muffle a guffaw. 

*

“Hey, Shar? Can we talk?”

Somehow, Sharon had a feeling Sam didn’t want to talk about the mission, which had gone remarkably smoothly, all things considered. The intel they needed was stored on the flash drive in Sharon’s purse, which was sitting on the nightstand next to something else they had also managed to bring back. Just before they left the mansion, they had returned to the testing room with an excuse about Sharon having misplaced her wedding ring. While Sam distracted the woman who had tested Sharon earlier, Sharon had managed to grab one of the mutant detectors and the staff seemed none the wiser. The only real concern now was the fact that they had to spend the rest of the night in their cabin, which meant if Arthur Parks or anyone else did suspect them, they would know where to find them. Sam was aware of all of that, though, and she would be very surprised if he wanted to go over what to do if they caught a glimpse of someone staring at them through the window. 

“Sure,” she replied, her eyes still on the ceiling. She let out a small exhale before she rolled over onto her side to face Sam, barely able to make out his expression in the darkness. “Is everything OK?”

“Yeah. I just...I’m not even sure I should be saying anything, but...y’know, aside from almost forgetting New York was both a state and a city and being called ‘entertaining’ by some weird British folks, I actually had a really good time tonight.”

 Sharon couldn’t help a small smile. “I kind of meant it when I told Marie we made a good team.”

“Did you mean it when you said we should go ice skating and then for drinks?” That question caught Sharon off guard, particularly in how hopeful Sam sounded when he said it. “It’s OK if you didn’t,” he added quickly, before she had a chance to respond, “We’ve known each other for a while, but we’ve never…” Sam paused. “Tonight, when we were dancing, I just felt like…”

“I felt it, too,” Sharon said quietly. 

“OK.” She was starting to be able to see his face better as her eyes continued to adjust to the light, and she realized a smile was slowly spreading across it. “OK,” he repeated with a nod, “I’m kind of getting the feeling there’s a ‘but’ coming, though.”

“There’s a ‘but’,” Sharon admitted. His delight at the notion that they both felt similarly was already making her reconsider what she was about to say, but she wanted to be honest with him. “I’m not ready, Sam.”

“Ah. There it is,” Sam said. His grin vanished, as she expected, and he gave a small nod. “I understand. You did break up with Captain America. That had to have been pretty crazy.”

“Or, as my extended family likes to tell me, I’m the crazy one.” Sharon flashed a humorless smile. “I don’t...I’m not in love with Steve anymore, but that breakup wasn’t easy. It wasn’t even anyone’s fault, really, it was just...well, I’m sure the last thing you want to hear is gossip about your best friend.”

“I did just kind of admit to having a crush on my best friend’s ex-girlfriend, though,” Sam noted.

“I guess you did.” Sharon’s smile was genuine this time. “God, I wish we’d figured this out sooner.”

“I’ll take some of the blame for that. I was too busy staring at redheads.”

“And I was too busy thinking if I stuck around long enough Steve might fall in love with me.”

“Shar…” Sam’s voice was soft, and Sharon suddenly felt like she might have said too much. 

“If you were just a hot stranger this would be a whole lot easier,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I think,” Sam teased back, “It’s OK, Sharon. Sometimes the timing just isn’t right.”

“I just meant that if it was someone I didn’t really care about, maybe I’d go on a date or two and it wouldn’t end well but it wouldn’t be a big deal. If it was you, though...I wouldn’t want to mess it up.”

“If it was you, I wouldn’t want to mess it up, either.” Sharon’s breath caught in her throat. “Can I...can I ask you a favor, though? If you do feel like you’re ready someday, and assuming you haven’t met anyone even hotter, can you let me know?”

“What if you’re dating Natasha Romanoff by then?” Sharon asked, not entirely unseriously. 

“In that case I would like everyone to please give us as much privacy as possible,” Sam replied with a smirk. 

“Wow, OK. She’s really your type?”

“Are you jealous, Shaz?”

Sharon couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe a little. Is that OK?”

“Yeah. That’s OK.” Sam’s eyes had what could only be described as a twinkle in them. “You still haven’t answered me.”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

[ev-pierce-writes]

The Heir

The Heir Chapter 1

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8.3K

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, masturbation

Notes: I recognize this isn't actually what season 3 will be like but I just need season 3 to come and its not coming fast enough so I'm taking it into my own hands to write whatever I want. I just want the little green alien baby and his space cowboy dad to have a cute reunion is that too much to ask? Self-insert, with reader as "you" but I avoid Y/N stuff. Narrator's perspective refers to Mando as Djarin, Din's perspective is written as Din. Some back and forth with that. I took some liberty with the characterization as well. The rest is my own!

---

The throne room was silent save for your voice echoing from the high ceiling.

"Tell Mon Tarrow that his trade agreement still stands, as long as he keeps up his end of the bargain," you said to the hologram flickering before you. "We get our shipments, he gets his. That is all."

With a swipe of your hand, the hologram disappeared and you leaned back into your seat. This job was difficult, organizing and controlling the most heavily trafficked trade routes in the galaxy. It was not one you had chosen for yourself. But for generations, your family had been in control of the planet Nhora and its lunar outpost, maintaining its status as a neutral party throughout several civil wars, uprisings, revolutions, and revolts. You had inherited that neutrality. Despite attempts from both the Republic and the Empire, your rule had withstood their attacks, keeping peace with your people and ensuring the wealth of successful trade routes.

Turning to your advisor at your elbow, you began to discuss the redistribution of the year's crops when the large doors across the hall opened. It was uncommon for someone to interrupt your daily briefings, though not disallowed. You had an open-door policy when it came to your people; anything that needed your attention should be brought directly to you. It fostered communication and understanding. But the individual who interrupted you was not one of your subjects and was, to put it simply, completely unexpected.

Your advisor immediately silenced, as dumbstruck as you, and the only sounds came from the creature huffing and puffing his way toward you, mumbling some garbled non-language.

Creature was the best way to put it. He was small and green and wore a sack for clothes. Though you couldn't see his legs, they must have been tiny, for he wobbled very slowly towards you. And his ears, good grief those ears, were so large his head teetered back and forth as he walked. The throne room was already large, but it was made even larger by the tiny figure before you, a child, you realized, as he stumbled closer. You eyed the child suspiciously before giving your advisor a look that said, who is this? She only shrugged.

Perhaps this was one of Skywalker's new playthings, you thought. That strange Jedi was always passing through with some oddity or another to trade for supplies. He knew what you liked, gems and stones from other lands, flowers with unique scents, fabrics spun from the thread of ice spiders (very dangerous to come by). In exchange, he had free access to your palace as he pleased before heading off again to who knows where. But this was new. Skywalker never brought you living things that moved of their own accord.

You stood, gathering the long skirts of your robe and stepping off the dais upon which your throne sat. You weren't particularly fond of children, but the sudden appearance of one purposefully crossing the long marble hall and heading straight for you was intriguing. You met the child halfway, stooping over to get a closer look at him, and noticed a fine layer of hair on his wrinkled head.

As you bent over, the child looked up at you and cooed, a little smile on his face. He was admittedly a bit cute, though incredibly ugly.

"Hello, little thing," you said, addressing the child directly. "Who are you?"

He didn't answer, of course, just gurgled strangely. A tiny three-fingered hand reached toward you as if asking to be picked up. You ignored him and stood up straight instead, turning to a guard and sending him out to look for the enigmatic Jedi who was sure to be close behind.

Apparently, the child didn't like being ignored. You felt a sudden tugging at your collar as if someone had taken hold of your necklace and was trying to yank it from your neck. Looking down, you could see the child was still at your feet, hand in the air, but now his eyes were half-closed. You realized with a mix of horror and curiosity that the little one was pulling at your necklace, though not with his fingers but rather with his mind. Perhaps you could have tried to stop him, withheld the piece of jewelry from him, but you were too dumbfounded to try. Why he wanted the chain around your neck you were unsure, but the child would have it one way or another.

The necklace broke with a snap and flew toward him, which he caught in one green paw. The astonishment hung in the room; most had never seen the force in action like this. But you knew.

The force was with this one. Now, you were certain he had to be with the Jedi.

"Luke Skywalker," you said with accusation in your voice as he finally entered the throne room, following behind your guard. "I am not taking care of this child for you if that's what you're expecting. And I want my necklace back."

Skywalker smiled as he entered and kneeled to address you. It wasn't necessary to bow before you, but the Jedi had always been a bit of a stickler for tradition. You took it as a sign of friendship.

"Don't worry Your Majesty, Grogu and I will be on our way shortly. He just needs a... special diet that I cannot provide for him."

"Grogu?" The little child looked up at you when you said his name. His mouth was wrapped around the metal ball that had hung from your neck moments before. It had been a gift from your mother, a symbol of the planet you ruled over, to be passed on if you had a child of your own. Now it was covered in baby slobber. And yet, your heart softened at the sight of the green child. Relenting to his pleading eyes, you reached down and picked Grogu up, holding him at arm's length as he played with the metal ball.

"Where did you find him?" you asked Skywalker as you led him from the throne room toward the banquet hall, your advisor trailing behind you, just as curious about the creature as you.

"I did not find him," Skywalker replied. "A Mandalorian did."

A Mandalorian? Your heart rate picked up, curiosity piqued at the thought. You had only heard stories about their kind since their fall from the Council of Neutral Systems. And of course what your grandmother had told you of them. They were a conflicted group but you knew one thing for sure, they were not friends of the Jedi.

"I presume you are to train him now."

"To the best of my ability. He is the same species as my master, surprisingly strong despite his size."

In the banquet hall, you sent for a meal, setting Grogu down on the table and sitting before him. He was fascinating, despite his babyish mannerisms and the ball covered in his spit. But what you really wanted to know more about was this Mandalorian. The rumors had not escaped you, spreading swiftly through the trade routes, reports of the Darksaber's resurfacing, of those who tried to claim it. The planet Mandalore itself was relatively uninhabited, having been ravaged by years of war and conflict. Your trade routes were one of the only ones that extended that far to the outer rim as most didn't find it worth the trouble.

But if the Darksaber was truly back, and someone had claimed it, the Mand'alor may make a recovery. That could mean many things for your people, possibly a surge in trade or a new rival that was willing and able to fight for space. Mandalorians were known to be the greatest killers in the galaxy, after all. But you were getting ahead of yourself.

"The one who found Grogu, are they the one who claimed the saber?"

Concern flickered across Skywalker's face. "Yes, I believe his name is Din Djarin."

The baby's ears perked up at the name, glancing back and forth between the two of you. His giant eyes blinked slowly as he eyed your face.

"Is the Mandolorian worthy?" You were of course talking about the inheritance of the Mand'alor throne.

"He delivered the child. And refused the saber, at first. There is hope for those who are given the chance of ultimate power and deny it."

Refused it? So ruling a creed and a planet had not been his choice. Much like you. Perhaps there was a chance for the Mand'alor after all. You watched as Skywalker traded your necklace for an entire laas fish, which Grogu swallowed whole, fins and all. It was a disturbing sight.

---

Din Djarin could be a man of stealth when necessary. After saying goodbye to his son, he had accepted a ride through hyperspace from Boba Fett and Fennec Shand. But they had only been willing to go so far as Wobani, and he would have to make his way alone.

Though Bo-Katan had let Din leave with the Darksaber in tow, he could tell it had been with reluctance, and Din was sure this wasn't the last he'd see of her. Cara Dune had offered to follow him, but Din declined. This was a trip he had to make on his own.

Wobani was not the most welcoming of planets. The abandoned labor camps that had once been full during the reign of the Empire stood crumbling to dust. Some people had taken root here, making do with what was available.

But this was not where he needed to be. Din needed to keep moving, keep his eyes on the future, keep his mind off of the sad look on the little one's face as he'd been whisked away by a Jedi. Din felt empty without Grogu on his hip, hidden in his satchel or tucked away in his crib. Sure, Din missed having his ship, but he missed the child so much more.

The metal ball at his belt weighed heavy. He should have let him keep it.

But there was no turning back now. Din would allow himself one night of rest before moving on. There were no boarding houses on Wobani, though he'd asked around. And it wasn't like anyone wanted to house a Mandalorian. So Din settled for an empty, abandoned building, one that likely had held prisoners at one time or another. Now, there was nothing but a dirt floor and a wall to lean against. But it was better than nothing.

As the sun set, Din shut his eyes, ready for the next day to begin.

He was awoken not by the sun, but a grunting noise to his left. Din opened his eyes and adjusted his helmet to night vision, locating a massive heat signature through his visor. A large animal, crawling on all fours, appeared across the room. It hadn't yet noticed Din, more preoccupied with sniffing the ground with a large, whiskered nose. But even from this vantage point, Din could tell the creature had many giant sharp teeth, perfect for tearing at his flesh.

Maybe if he stayed absolutely still... Nope. That large nose turned in his direction and had him spotted in an instant. The options lay before him, run or fight, and neither seemed good. Shooting a blaster in this confined space was almost guaranteed to cause a ricochet and at the moment, the beast was blocking the exit.

But not the only exit. The beast began to approach, its long slithering tail making disgusting sounds as it dragged across the floor, sinewy muscles rippling beneath hairless skin. It moved slowly, but that didn't mean much. It probably thought it had found its next meal, a man in a suit of beskar. Din stood slowly, trying not to urge the beast to move any faster.

Last night, when choosing a spot to sleep, Din had noticed the small window above him. When you were constantly on the hunt or being hunted, having multiple escape routes was a necessity. And the window had seemed like a good enough option. Now Din hoped his judgment had been right. The beast was getting closer, giving him only moments to make a decision.

To reach the window, Din would have to turn his back on the beast, which he didn't particularly want to do. He would need a distraction.

The beast paused in its approach and then lunged, as Din aimed his vambrace, spraying it with fire. It reeled back, howling in pain, and he knew that was his chance. He jumped, fingers catching on the ledge and hauling himself through the narrow space. Din barely fit, especially with all his bulking armor and the few possessions he managed to carry. The beast he'd left behind was enraged, clawing angrily at the walls and snapping at his heels.

At last, he was able to swing himself from the window to the roof of the building, finding refuge up high. He laid back with exhaustion, listening to the sounds of the beast as it finally gave up on its query and left. Din wanted nothing more than to sleep, to forget the pain in his heart and calm his rapid breathing. Not much scared the serious Mandalorian, and despite the danger he had just narrowly escaped, his thoughts drifted elsewhere.

Above him, the stars shone dimly through the dusty clouds of Wobani's atmosphere. Somewhere out there was the kid. Din hoped he was happy.

---

Luke Skywalker and the child did not stay long. You were surprised to find that you actually missed the little bugger as you watched them fly away, a large supply of laas fish in tow. Though you were sure you'd see them again; Grogu's appetite was insatiable.

But there were more pressing matters at hand. If the Mand'alor were to resurface and become strong again, you had to be prepared. You wanted to have the upper hand and hoped that the trade relations that were already established with the desolate Mandalore planet would help in gaining their trust.

Though your advisors had recommended you give up on the planet, even demanded it, you had been unwilling to do so. The few who did live there desperately needed Nhora's help and supplies. They had little to offer in return and tended to be more of a burden than an equal partner, but it felt wrong to abandon that outpost. Now you were glad that you'd stuck to your convictions.

It was time to call a meeting of council members. Little was left of the Council of Neutral Systems since the fall of the Empire, but those who remained were essential to the maintenance of free trade. And if the Mand'lor were to return, the council needed to be prepared.

"We don't even know if this Mandalorian wants his planet back," General Tarrow was saying, his hologram flickering slightly across the table from you.

"It's better to be prepared," your advisor, Zena, replied. "Her Majesty has maintained trade relations with the planet despite their small numbers. We can use this to our advantage and get ahead of any potential military action they are willing to take."

"The fact that they could take military action is exactly why we shouldn't pursue relations with the Mand'alor," Tarrow countered.

Zena sighed, exasperated by the back and forth conversation that had been going on for the last twenty minutes. You could tell she was getting frustrated. "They deserve our respect, don't they? Innocent before proven guilty?"

"They've already proven themselves guilty, or didn't you study Nhora's history?"

The General made a good point, but it was always better to approach with peace than antagonism, you had learned. "I have reason to believe the one who claimed the Darksaber is of a different disposition, worthy, even," you said in Zena's defense.

"From who?" asked another council member.

"Luke Skywalker."

"The Jedi? I don't trust him."

"Well I do," you said, putting your foot down. "There's not much to be done at this time anyway. The reports are only rumors, after all. But we need to be open and prepared for the Mand'alor to return."

The meeting adjourned. Though no conclusions had been reached, you felt a shift coming.

---

When Din awoke next, it was the sun was up. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep again. Move. That was all there was to do.

Scrambling down from the roof that had become his bed, Din headed back toward the port he had come in from, hoping to find someone stupid enough who would accept a ridiculously small amount of credits in exchange for passage to the nearby planet Mandalore. He knew the task was impossible before he even asked the first merchant he found.

Time to change tactics.

Across the shipyard was a small transport ship. Din watched from behind some crates as a couple of droids loaded and unloaded cargo. It appeared the ship was manned entirely by droids and was getting ready to take off again soon. It would be a risk, boarding the ship and hijacking it. But smaller craft like this tended not to be very equipped for battle, and Din hoped he could use that to his advantage.

Keeping low to the ground, Din moved swiftly toward the transporter, staying out of sight of the droids. He hid next to the loading ramp, quickly climbing inside as it began to rise, signaling its imminent departure.

The cargo hold was tiny. The hulking Mandalorian couldn't stand up straight without hitting his head on the ceiling. Tight spaces didn't bother him, but he hoped that the rest of the transporter wasn't this small. Otherwise, this was going to be a long trip.

With the hum of the thrusters, the transporter lifted into the air, leaving the airspace of Wobani's shipyard. Din would wait until just before the ship entered hyperdrive to make his move.

The angle of ascent leveled and the flight smoothed, indicating they had made it out of the atmosphere and were heading swiftly toward their destination. The door leading to the cockpit from the cargo hold was thankfully not locked. With a shove, Din had the door open and the first droid in a headlock before it knew what was happening. One blaster shot to the central processing unit and the droid dropped, though not before making enough noise to signal to its copilot of Din's intrusion. And of course, it had a blaster.

The shot rang out, ricocheting around the tiny space, pinging off the walls and Din's beskar armor. Silently he thanked his laser-proofness, even as the shot knocked him off his feet and hurled him against the door of the cargo hold. His head slammed into the metal wall, blurring his vision. He would definitely have a headache after that one.

Stupid droids.

With a groan, Din heaved himself to his feet. Realizing that a blaster wasn't going to work, the droid stood, preparing itself for hand-to-hand combat. If Din hadn't been fighting for his life he may have found the situation funny, fighting in such cramped quarters. But the clouds hadn't quite cleared from his head and he barely noticed the tell-tale sign of the droid winding up for a punch. The droid swung out and struck Din squarely in the temple, sending reverbs through the beskar.

Dank farrik. This was ridiculous. He needed to focus, not be so distracted, but by what exactly? Din steadied himself and aimed his vambrace, blasting the droid with a shot that vaporized its CPU instantly.

Silence.

Shoving the now unmoving droids as best he could into the cargo hold, Din took control of the ship, rerouting the navigation system. Punching in the coordinates of the planet Mandalore, he shifted quickly into hyperdrive. The trip would take less than a day. But it was several hours of peace and for that Din was thankful, even if it meant no distractions from the big brown eyes that blinked at him every time he closed his own. They were so sad and--

Stop. Sleep. Move on. But they called out, even in his dreams.

Mandalore was even more deserted than Wobani. As the transporter eased out of hyperdrive, Din spotted several round constructions, which turned out to be domes as he got closer. Where was he going to land? There didn't appear to be a shipyard or trading post to accept incoming starships. No one connected to the commlink, requesting his flight information.

The planet was silent and gray.

Of course, it couldn't be that easy. As he prepared for descent, the rear detectors picked up on an approaching x-wing. Damn. Apparently taking out a pair of drones and hijacking their ship wasn't a free pass. Someone wanted their cargo back. And this ship was not equipped for that fight.

All Din could do was dodge as the x-wing rained fire. So much for a smooth landing. With a lurch, the left thruster was rendered useless and the transporter began to fall, rather than sail, toward the gray planet. Hopefully, Din could guide the transporter into a graceful crash and not kill himself on the way down. Seemingly recognizing that the ship was a lost cause and on its way to a crash landing, the x-wing swooped away, at least giving Din one less thing to worry about.

The ship lurched through the atmosphere, speeding too fast toward the ground and threatening to burn up as it went. The temperature inside the cockpit began to rise and Din felt lightheaded, likely due to the sudden force of gravity. He jerked up on the joystick, praying for a miracle.

With a defining blast, the transporter made contact with the ground. Din managed to remain conscious as the ship hit the sand, but only long enough to bring it to a slamming and skidding stop. And then everything went black.

It was hot. Too hot. And his mouth was impossibly dry. Din was barely aware of a pair of arms hooked under his armpits, dragging him away from the wreckage of the transporter, saving his life.

---

A year passed. Grogu and Skywalker visited again several times, though shorter than before. Little changed in the child's size, but he was stronger than before. You didn't even wait for him to steal your necklace, just handed him the small metal ball like a pushover as Skywalker restocked his ship.

And though you asked, pushed even, for details on the Mandalorian, Skywalker had little to say. The warrior seemed to have disappeared into hyperspace.

This lack of news was the exact reason why you were so shocked to find, not many days later, a suit of beskar armor standing in your throne room.

Zena had been explaining the benefits and disadvantages of increasing farming output as you walked to the throne room, but the pair of you stopped short at the door. A tall, gleaming figure stood in the hall, looking out a window, seemingly unaware of your presence. At the sight of him, the guards who had been flanking you drew their weapons, training their blasters to his back and stepping in front of you. It took you a moment to recognize the distinct shape of the helmet and the signet on his shoulder plate but this was unmistakably a Mandalorian, the Mandalorian, who had unwittingly laid claim to the Mand'alor throne. You held up your hand, willing your guards to stand down and let you pass.

"I'll admit, I am surprised to be in your presence, Mandalorian," you said. "Though not surprised that you made it in unseen. You'll have to teach me that one."

The man, Din Djarin you remembered his name to be, turned to face you, his helmet disguising whatever thoughts may have been written on his face. Of course, Din had known you were there, knew when you would arrive, knew exactly how many blasters were trained on him. But when he turned, the serious, threatening woman he expected to find was not there.

When Din had landed on Mandalore, it had been only your ships that he'd seen come and go. There was no official port or trading post, the locals explained, but Nhora's supplies came anyway, finding a way in the inhospitable desert environment that the remaining Mandalorians called home.

Reports of Nhora were mixed. Some were grateful for its help. Other's looked upon it with disdain, taking any acceptance of assistance as a sign of weakness. And rumors about the Nhora queen varied widely. Some claimed she didn't exist, was only a fabricated figurehead to maintain peace. Others described her as fierce and domineering, ruling with an iron fist and cultivating the illusion of order through force.

At first glance, Din knew you were none of these things. You were regal, of course, very obviously the one in charge. But your stance was warm and inviting, the soft features of your face drawn up into a smile. If anything, you felt more like an equal, rather than a royal who demanded authoritative respect. It was difficult for Din to smile, especially since the loss of everything he'd called family. But your smile was contagious. If not for his helmet, Din might have given his whole intimidating facade away. He was drawn to you, to your lack of fear, but he wouldn't let it show.

Djarin, though beneath the helmet he smiled against his will, appeared as the complete opposite to you. His demeanor was quiet and daunting, but he stood stiffly before you, as if unsure how you would receive him. He didn't bow or kneel or even address you by your title. And yet, though he could probably kill you and all the guards that surrounded you in the time it took to say his name, you felt no concern in his presence.

The memory of your grandmother's stories lurched into the forefront of your brain, dashing warriors, powerful and dangerous, yet righteous and honorable at heart. It made your heart beat faster. He made your heart beat faster.

"I heard you were looking for me," was all he said, modulated voice surprisingly calm despite the rush of emotions that flooded him. A man of few words, he got straight to the point. But inside he was wondering why you eyed him like that, with curiosity and diffidence, not afraid of him at all.

You nodded silently and took your place on your throne, unsure of what you would say next. How that news had reached him escaped you, as you hadn't been actively searching him out. Yes, you'd been wondering what had happened to him, what he planned to do. But you hadn't expected to meet him, not so soon. "Din Djarin, rightful heir to the Mand'alor throne. I wasn't anticipating this meeting for quite some time."

Though you couldn't see his eyes, the Mandalorian seemed to squint at you suspiciously through his visor. The sound of his name rolled easily from your tongue as if practiced over and over. "How do you know my name?"

"I know of the child you rescued. The one with the force." The Mandolorian took a step forward as if wanting to hear more. You leaned your elbow on the arm of your throne, one finger twisting nervously at the scarf of your headdress, anticipating his response.

"You've seen him?"

"Yes, a few times now. Skywalker prefers Nhora for restocking supplies. And Grogu is particularly fond of stealing things with his mind and swallowing his meals whole." The comment was meant to be a joke. Djarin did not laugh. He was watching your delicate fingers instead. "He is strong. Capable. A Jedi in the making. And you seem very attached. If I didn't know better I would think you were here for news of the little one."

"I didn't come searching for Grogu."

"I know. The Mandolorian don't simply come when called. They come when they need something. I heard what you did to Moff Gideon. How you refused the saber. I would be very surprised if there weren't some dangerous people after you right now."

Din sighed, knowing you had deciphered his intent without needing it explained to you. You were kind, but you were also sharp and perceptive, not wanting to waste time with small talk. Din liked that.

"I've seen your ships land on Mandalore. Nhora is the only one who still trades with the people there. I figured--" You realized he was asking for help but didn't know how to. Zena shot you a knowing look, recognizing that you had been right when you'd called that council meeting over a year ago. "I figured you could be an ally."

An ally. Perfect. This was exactly what you predicted. You wanted to rub your success in those snobby Neutral System faces, but you held your composure. This was your chance to make a connection, establish a rapport that would benefit you both, and protect your planet at the same time. If he needed an ally, you would offer it.

"Tell me what you need."

Djarin stood momentarily in silence, contemplating the consequences of what he was about to ask for. Was it this easy? Were you this willing to help every poor soul that came along? "I need-- I need a ship. And supplies."

"That's it?" It was suspiciously little if you had any inkling of the position Djarin was in. If he had seemingly disappeared for the past year, what struggles had he endured to make it here, to your planet?

"That's all I can afford. I don't have many credits left."

You laughed. You couldn't help it. "Credits? That's what you're worried about? I don't want your credits, Djarin."

Didn't want your credits? No one of sound mind gave anything away for free. You may have been generous, but there was no way you were that stupid. There had to be something else, he knew. "What's the catch?"

"The catch is that you rebuild a creed that was once my people's allies. And you defend us, the way you used to, from the inevitable. The Empire is still out there. It's naive to think they won't set their sights on us. But you-- you can stop them. So tell me what you need, everything you need, and I will help you. Do we have a deal?"

Zena, who had remained silent during the interaction, now leaned down and spoke into your ear. "Are you sure this is smart, Your Majesty? If the Council hears of your actions, they may not be very pleased."

"Zena, the Council has no control over what I do with my personal resources. So, deal or no deal?"

Djarin stepped forward, approaching you where you sat on your throne. Though you were seated above him, Djarin was tall enough to still stand at your eye level. He reached out a gloved hand, asking for yours to shake, you thought. His beskar glittered in the setting sun filtering in through the windows and sent you spiraling into thoughts of what he looked like beneath it all. But instead of shaking your hand, he simply held it and sunk on one knee before you, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles and bowing his head. Had Djarin not been wearing a helmet, you were sure he would have kissed them. "Thank you, Your Majesty," he said softly.

The act was ridiculous. Din knew that. You knew that. But it made your heart flutter even more than before.

"Oh for Maker's sake, this is absurd. Stand up, Djarin," you said, suddenly embarrassed, though you had to admit the sight of a Mandalorian kneeling before you would have made your ancestor's faint on the spot. "Let's find you a ship."

---

You weren't exactly sure what Djarin's rule about his helmet was. Would he take it off? Leave it on? But he needed to eat, so you led him to a private room for dinner, in case that's what he wanted. It would be naive to admit you didn't like the thought of being alone with him. You wanted to know how true your grandmother's stories were.

"I hope it's enough," you said, gesturing at the spread of food before him. "Please let me know if you need anything."

Djarin stood silently for a moment before sitting down heavily into his chair. He seemed exhausted, and though you couldn't tell with all that armor, it wouldn't have surprised you if he was injured somewhere under there.

"Thank you. Your kindness is much appreciated."

"It is per our custom. I'll leave you to eat." You turned to go and leave him in peace, but he stopped you with a gloved hand on your wrist. Though a layer of leather separated your skin from his, Djarin's grip sent a jolt up your arm.

"Why are you being so kind?" It was a genuine question, one you didn't know how to respond to. Tell him the truth? Make something up? But the man before you seemed so earnest that it appeared best to be honest. So you sat, directly across from him, and began your story.

"My grandmother was a fair and just queen," you began, folding your hands in your lap. "Sometimes to a fault. She ruled on her convictions and morals, not tradition or law. In those days, the Mand'alor still controlled much of the outer rim and fought endlessly with the Jedi. Nhora remained neutral, accepting any and all who needed assistance, regardless of creed. A young Jedi took refuge on Nhora, and according to custom, was given full protection. This was something my grandmother believed to her core. Something we still practice today."

"So you're nice because your grandma said you should be?" It wasn't meant as a jab, but suspicion laced Djarin's voice.

You sighed and continued the story. "The young Jedi did not arrive alone. He was followed by a Mandalorian, out for vengeance and retribution. He stormed the palace, the first time in history that our defenses were breached. Fortunately, the Jedi was able to aid our guards in the Mandalorian's detainment. But not before my grandmother fell deeply and madly in love with him."

"In love? With a Mandalorian?" It was hard to tell through the modulation of his voice, but Djarin sounded shocked and more than a little suspicious.

"Perhaps it was all the beskar," you said, trying to make another joke. Djarin still did not laugh though he cracked an invisible smile beneath his helmet. "But yes. Of course, it's only a story, but my grandfather was of Mand'alor, so there must be some truth in it."

"You are a descendant?"

You nodded. You'd never met your grandfather, as fathers didn't matter much to the matriarchal line of rule, but now, here you were, sitting before another Mandalorian, and the cycle continued.

What Djarin did next gave you a shock for the second time that day. With a click and then the hiss of hydraulics, he lifted his helmet from his shoulders, placed it on the table, and began to eat. You barely reined in the expression on your face, narrowly avoiding blanching at the revelation of his face.

Suddenly, it didn't seem so strange that your grandmother had fallen instantly head over heels for your grandfather after all, considering the man you found beneath the helmet.

The Mandalorian that sat before you didn't have the mean, hardened look you expected. His expression was soft, lips smooth and slightly downturned into a natural frown beneath the curve of a prominent nose. He hardly seemed to notice your stares as he dug into his food, his dark eyes staying fixed on his plate.

Djarin's dark hair was tousled and in disarray, likely from being plastered under a helmet for so long. He had a disheveled beard, graying in some places, that made you realize he had probably been traveling for some time without a true place to stay or a real bed to sleep in. It was only then that you noticed the cut on his lip, the gash across his cheek, and the bruise under his eye. What had happened to him? What had he endured to reach Nhora?

Din still wasn't sure what was considered an appropriate or inappropriate time to remove his helmet. But he reasoned that if you were a descendant of Mand'alor, then this was appropriate. And despite his better judgment, he trusted you. Your story had made him think that perhaps your coyness earlier was not a result of his sudden appearance but a mutual attraction the pair of you shared. You were a complete stranger, a queen even, and yet he felt he had known you all along, as if gravity had pulled him toward you. You radiated warmth and acceptance, something he rarely received as a Mandalorian.

Din pretended not to notice your stare, but then you stood abruptly, and he looked up.

"Most people don't recognize me when I take off this whole thing," you said, gesturing to the clothes you wore. Din could tell you were trying to make a comparison to his helmet, all a disguise to maintain a physical and emotional distance from those around you.

You began to pull off your robes, layer after layer of the royal get up you disliked more than you let on. You unwound the intricate scarf from your hair, aware that Djarin was watching the whole time as your hair fell unbound around your shoulders.

It was all ceremonial, he knew, but Din had noticed when he first met you that you didn't seem particularly comfortable in your position. Now you stood in your loose underclothes, arms and shoulders bare, headdress and scarves discarded on the floor, and you relaxed. Your efforts were a mirror to his, showing your vulnerability and gaining his trust. And you did look different, not quite unrecognizable but somehow even smaller and less imposing than before.

You suddenly felt nervous beneath Djarin's gaze and felt it best to keep your hands busy.

Turning toward a cabinet on the wall, you began rummaging through it, looking for the antiseptic. You could feel Djarin's eyes now trained on your back, watching your every move. "I don't have any bacta spray in here, but we should at least clean up that cut."

You pulled your chair closer to his. The proximity was delicious.

"This may sting a bit," you said as you applied a swab to the gash in his cheek, fingers holding his face in place. Din didn't pull away but he did hiss lightly. Your body was so close to his own he could smell the scent of you, light and flowery like your planet.

"So, what else does the Mandalorian need from me?" you asked, trying to distract him from the pain.

Din grunted, though not in discomfort but to regain his focus. "The people-- I'm not sure what they need. I'm a warrior, not a ruler. I didn't ask for this. Mandalore is essentially deserted, those who remain have nothing and I don't know where to begin. The creed is fractured, scattered throughout the galaxy. I don't even think most of them want to be found. Especially not by me."

You placed a gentle hand on his chin to tilt his head closer to yours, giving you access to the cut on this lip. Thin lines creased Djarin's eyes and forehead, marring his golden skin with worry and tension. His eyebrows knitted in constant concern. You wanted to smooth that look from his face but it was more than you thought he'd allow. Instead, you focused on his mouth, not that that helped your erratic pulse and quickening breath either.

The tenderness of the act caught Din off guard. A royal, stooping to his level, rolling up her sleeves to do the dirty work, was surprising. He got the impression that you were a reluctant ruler, though he couldn't tell why. Nhora was obviously a prosperous planet, covered in glittering cities and sprawling trade ports. What he'd seen of the people they seemed happy and healthy. How could you be so successful and yet so averse to the job you performed so well?

"You're a good man, Djarin. I understand your reluctance. I was not meant to be queen either. I didn't want to be queen, and yet the responsibility was thrust upon me. But you are a good father as well, and I've known the best fathers to make the best leaders."

"I'm not a father. Not anymore." The words were spoken with a deep sadness.

"I think the Child would beg to differ. He lights up like a glow frog when he hears your name."

"A glow frog?"

"Native to Nhora. The resemblance is uncanny."

Din chuckled at the image, knowing the kid could probably just swallow one whole. "Has he grown?"

"Perhaps a little, though it's hard to tell." You finished your first aid and leaned away. Djarin's questions made apparent his love for and connection to Grogu. How he'd managed to let him go in the first place was beyond you. You didn't have children and weren't sure if you ever would, yet their bond was enviable. "Somehow I don't think it's a coincidence that we crossed paths, Djarin. You and I and the kid."

Din wasn't sure what that meant. He didn't particularly believe in destiny, nor did he know how to respond, so he turned back to his food. Decades beneath the helmet had given him the luxury of hidden expressions and wordlessness. He didn't know how to act without its protection.

But something else was also forcing his speechlessness. Though your touch had left his skin, the ghost of your fingers remained, leaving him in silence. He was ashamed something so simple could affect him so intensely, and yet he was melting like ice beneath a warm sun.

And while you continued to speak of Grogu, of his obsession with metal balls and being held in the crook of your arm, Din's thoughts swirled not around the child but the soft touch of your fingers on his face. He realized had never been touched like that before, not that gently. And your hands were so smooth, unmarred and flawless from never having worked manual labor or been in a fight. They twisted in your lap, unable to stop moving despite the idle chatter you had fallen into.

You weren't sure why you couldn't stop moving. Was it Djarin's stare, the way he appeared to be listening to you intently though he never responded, or his large presence that filled the room, or just the excitement of meeting the man you had been thinking about for the better part of a year? You realized that you were rambling, filling the silence with your words, your hands wringing in your lap.

All of a sudden, a big hand reached out and covered yours. You silenced instantly. "You're going to twist your fingers off if you keep that up, Your Majesty."

A thrill jolted through your body. Most people addressed you by your title, out of respect. But the way it came from his mouth, in that lilting baritone, sent the world spinning.

"I should leave you, let you sleep," you said finally, needing to get away before your voice betrayed your heart's emotions. "I know you've had a long day. You're welcome to stay here as long as you need."

Maker, how you hoped he would stay. But Din Djarin would be gone in the morning.

---

The starship you had provided was more than Din could have asked for, large enough to accommodate his size and cargo, small and swift enough to fly fast and steady in whatever direction he required. Inside, his blaster, spear, and a new rifle found their place on the wall. Climbing into the cockpit, Din surveyed the array of buttons and flashing lights.

To the right, the joystick gleamed in the dim light of the shipyard hanger. It was topped with a square knob. A memory floated through Din's mind, the tiny claws of a green hand reaching out to grasp at the knob, the big ears and wide eyes and--

Pulling the metal ball from his pocket, Din unscrewed the square knob and tossed it aside. Miraculously the Razor Crest's hardware fixtures must have been similar enough to this ship's, and the metal ball screwed perfectly into place. He grasped it gently once more, before flicking a few switches and starting up the engine.

Keep moving. Always keep moving.

---

Djarin's touch lingered on your hands even as you fell asleep. You dreamed of him, of his face, tired but handsome, aged by worry and life, yet kind and full of that honor your grandmother claimed every Mandalorian of worth contained.

You dreamed that he stayed, protecting you and your people, the way your grandfather should have done. Perhaps your mother and sister would still be here if he had.

Those nightmares woke you, sweating and sitting straight up in bed in the near darkness. Soft light from Nhora's triplet moons glimmered through the window, bathing your room in a soft glow, easing the pain in your heart, and returning you to the present. You flopped back in bed, rolling onto your stomach to try to get comfortable.

"That kriffing Mandalorian," you sighed into the pillow. He occupied your thoughts as you drifted in and out of sleep, his eyes on yours, the softness of his face under your fingers, the way he'd let you take care of him, his hand steadying yours and bringing you back into your body. It tied a knot in your stomach and you cursed your grandmother for having given you such high expectations of the man. Yet they were expectations met.

And what if he stayed? Would you fall for him? Were you destined to do so, intertwined by some family history that fated you and him together? He must have felt the gravity too, the gravity that pulled you together and bound your lives.

You hadn't seen him without his beskar armor on, but you could only imagine what he might look like underneath it all, shoulders broad, skin smooth, back muscular and strong. Was he taught and wound, always ready for a fight, or soft and supple?

You'd been with men before. Plenty of them, in fact. They tended to fall at your feet, begging for the queen's attention and a chance to sleep in her bed. Nhoran queens never married, simply chose a man to be the one to continue on the line of queens that came before and the line that would come after. But none struck your fancy, none forced their way into your thoughts, none caused you to touch yourself with need when you were without their presence.

None like Djarin. It was a relief to orgasm beneath your hands, his face floating behind your eyelids. You came as the triplet moons set and the sun rose, as somewhere in the distance Djarin's ship was taking off, rumbling powerfully beneath his strong hands. The relief it brought you gave you several more hours of sleep, the best sleep of the past year.

You hadn't realized how starved you were for the Mandalorian until he was in your grasp.

---

The dense quiet of hyperspace allowed for sleep. Or too much thinking.

In this case, Din was doing the overthinking. In the holomessage he'd left you he'd tried to explain where he was going, what he was doing, that he'd be back. He didn't need to justify his actions to you. You'd given him permission to go about his business as he pleased, that you'd always be there for help if he needed it. But he felt he owed you some explanation.

There was so much to do, to plan, to look ahead to. And yet Din's thoughts surrounded only you and what he'd just left behind. Less than a day on Nhora and the planet called out to him, begging for his return. Or perhaps it was just you.

Din closed his eyes, willing sleep to find him, but only visions of you drifted through the darkness, your bare arms, your soft fingers, your face close to his, your scent. It was intoxicating. If he tried hard enough, he might be able to pick up that smell even now, lingering in the ship.

When he'd reached out to touch your hands, it had taken all his willpower to leave them there and not drag his fingers up your arm. It wasn't right, this sudden desire to touch you all over. You were just being kind. It was silly to think any further into it. And yet, the knot in his stomach and tightness in his pants said otherwise.

Din's eyes flew open, trying to rid you from his thoughts. Think about anything else, Maker be damned, anything but wanting to hold you, kiss you, drink in that scent forever and ever.

With a frustrated grunt, he stood and moved to the fresher, splashing cold water onto his face to relieve the tension in his chest. It didn't work.

"I don't even know your name," Din groaned into the silence of the ship, hands balled into fists and rubbing his eyes. It was useless. There was only one thing to do. With fumbling fingers, he undid his belt, freeing his swollen cock from the confines of his pants. What would you think if you knew he was touching himself like this? But that only turned him on more, urging him forward to grasp his length with a rough hand. It only took a few pumps to finish, the fingers of his other hand gripping the edge of the sink as he grunted into the echoing silence of the fresher, amplifying the needy sounds.

He'd never let a woman drive him crazy. And yet you were going to do just that, already lightyears away.

*Read Next Part*

[moccahobi]

A Spark in the Commons [Yugyeom x Reader]

Pairing: Got7 Yugyeom x GN Reader

Genre: Fluff, Hybrid au, College au, 13+

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Mentions of a panic attack

A/N: This was done for @got7writerscollective​‘s flightlog project! It’s my first official got7 fic! So please enjoy!

Summery: You help an anxious deer shifter in the shifter union commons and a friendship buds. 

The Shifter Union commons of Seoul University was empty aside from you and the occasional guard who would sweep through to make sure that nothing amiss was happening. Of course nothing ever was on evenings like these where the only person in the commons was an employee getting paid to make sure any shifter in need had someone. Some nights were more wild and full of shifters who were in various states of shifting, but you didn’t like to work those nights. You prefered staffing the less crowded times when there were next to no one in the commons and you could work on homework while getting paid. Even with the occasional person who would come in, the quieter nights were best in your personal opinion. 

This evening was one of those quiet nights. You’d been alone in the common space for almost an hour, the last shifter having left after the two of you had a conversation about a class they were taking. It was just as you finished writing your tenth page of your peace studies essay that you felt the strung and pungent smell of burnt toast and something more bitter made you look up to see an anxious deer shifter, his antlers parting his hair as he approached the open common’s room.

“Hello! Welcome to the Seoul University’s shifter union!” You said cautiously, your eyes meeting his large, blown out ones with worry as he finally entered the commons.

The man stopped stiffly, tightly gripping his bag and not breaking eye contact with you, his nose flaring as he sniffed the room. Breaking eye contact first, you gave him a once over, struck by how still he was. You were glad that you took blockers this morning, your predatory raccoon pheromones not filling the room this moment and making the poor shifter feel more anxious and he didn’t need that. Poor man was working himself up enough already.

“How can I help you?”

He didn’t move, a small squeak leaving him.

“Would you like a private room to shift in?” You pointed to a door to the right of you that led to some small rooms sterile for shifters who needed to engage with their animal form privately for a little, “The union has some rooms for people right over there.” 

He lowered his eyes which were looking more and more deer-like by the second and quickly walked over to the door that led to the private rooms, closing loudly behind him. A sigh left you as you tried to return to your paper. Many times shifters needed space when their stress and anxiety forced them to shift, but you knew that before the man left you’d need to talk to him. 

Part of your job at the shifter union required you to  record his use of the room, check in to make sure that he was ok, and that the emergency need of the space wasn’t due to any issues on campus. You worried about him trying to run off the second he calmed down enough to return to his human form, having dealt with many shifters who feared using the union for its help or felt like they had to return to class immediately after a forced shift. They never had to. The union worked out a deal with the school to make sure forced shifts were seen as excused absences if filed through the union. You loved this job and how it allowed you to help your fellow shifters. You’d be damned if you didn’t take your work seriously. 

In fact, part of the reason you got on pheromone blockers was to make prey shifters more comfortable around you (the other part simply due to you not enjoying the feeling of heat and regular blockers kept your heat at bay). At the thought of pheromones, you got up, opened one of the windows and lit a candle in an attempt to start breaking up the stress pheromones that hung in the air. 

What sounded like a constant clatter of hooves made it hard to focus on your paper. It wasn’t like you could look at what was happening, the rooms had windows high up to allow light in but not let people see what those who were decompressing were doing. Somehow, the noise of the anxious shifter became background clatter and you managed to carve out a good chunk of your essay before you started to hear more… human-like movements in the back space. 

Your mind drifted to how you could get his attention without scaring him when he finally exited. There was a chance that he was informed about the processes the commons tries to have when the rooms are used but there is also a chance that he is completely unaware of them. There were many shifters who didn’t know the protocol. Plus,  if you did need to get his attention, you didn’t want to startle him or make it look like he was in trouble for using the space for three hours. The decompression rooms were here for moments like this after all. You heard the telltale click of the door opening but before you had time to try to get his attention, he spoke. 

“I… thank you for letting me use the room for so long.” His voice was soft and smooth and, unlike last time, you were the one whose eyes widened and felt frozen in place. 

He was good looking and smelling when he wasn’t sending off stress pheramones every which way, and his voice… it was so soft.

You floundered for a second before coughing, “N-No problem. They’re here for all shifters. Which room did you end up using? I will want to tell the next person working the union commons to make sure it gets cleaned.” 

“I used the room number… 3,” He said while leaning back to verify. 

A silence hung in the air after he spoke, he was clearly waiting for you to speak but you were still frozen. He hesitated before slowly walking past you, his eyes trained on you as if waiting to see if you kept talking or if he was free to go.

“Before you go… may I ask…” 

You froze… you knew how you were supposed to go about getting the information. You needed to ask for his student ID, name, and why they needed the room… but something about this man was making words hard for you. Your mind was blanking and stuttering as it tried to function. 

“Yes?” 

“I-If you have time, we like to keep a record of who uses the rooms and why. Mostly just to keep track… but also if you were using it because of…” 

Come on, Y/n! You knew this stuff! Why were you struggling so much now?

You sighed, “If it was caused by a staff member or a fellow student, the union can take action to protect your rights as a shifter. There are also options to message professors or coaches to excuse possible absences if the room was used for a stress shift. Also… I, as a worker, um… I work here and part of my job is to be an ear for venting and… all that… I am not a mandatory reporter too so if that is a worry… uhh… don’t.” 

He nodded slowly, “Uhh… I have a class… now,” He mumbled and pointed back to the entrance of the commons, “was on my way to it when I got a little… overwhelmed…”

Did he not check his phone yet? Any evening class was going to be done at this time you thought, checking the clock on your computer just to verify.

“Sir, you were in the room for three hours.”

“What?!” His eyes widened and you noticed his pupils grow once again. 

Quickly, you jumped up and walked over to where he was standing, “Don’t worry about it! If you give me a list of your professors, I can email them! This can count as an excused absence! There’s no need to worry.”

His eyes seemed to gloss over as he stumbled back slightly, his breaths coming out shift and fast. Quickly, you moved to guide him back to one of the nearest chairs that was only a few steps away and plush, gently rubbing his arm as he took a sharp intake of air and collapsed onto the chair, his horns slowly growing again and pushing some hair back.You got up and locked the door to the union entrance before returning to help. While it was normally policy to keep the door open and unlocked all times a staff member was in, you could risk making sure no one interrupted this moment to make sure this student felt safe (especially since you were a fairly small school and there were only 1000 shifters… out of 5000 students in the school and it was dinner rush). 

By the time you did make it back to him, he was starting to hyperventilate, his eyes distant and his antlers growing by the second. At this point, his distress pheromones were making the air heavy and hard to breath in and you were thankful that the window was open. You simply sat next to him and waited. At this point, if you tried to touch him, he would likely feel even more panicked and you didn’t want to do anything that could possibly harm him. Panic attacks were hard enough without any extra stressors.

The panic attack came in waves and you sat with him through it until he was able to speak some, but instead of letting him even think about apologizing, you simply started to ask him about the room. How many grey items were there? Purple? Green? And so forth until his breathing was calmer and you stopped being showered in his stress pheromones. 

“My name’s Yugyeom, by the way.” He said after a minute of silence when he finally calmed down more.

“Nice to meet you Yugyeom, I’m Y/n.” 

As it turned out, Yugyeom was a transfer just a year below you and had just declared his major the day he came in. You could easily see how the stress of being a transfer, with a human roommate (who didn’t want him to shift), delaring, and the start of a seven week night course could compound. That night, the two of you talked until Yejin, one of your coworkers came for her shift and forced you out so that you could get some sleep. The two of you left in a fit of laughs and then walked around campus and talked even more until you barely had enough money to drive back to your apartment. Despite how the night started, it was probably the best night of your whole week and you were hoping to talk to Yugyeom whenever you saw him next to get his number and hopefully hang out… Although you were tempted to try to pursue a romantic relationship as well. 

The thing was, that after that night you didn’t see him for a whole week! You’d see his name on the record of people who used the shifting rooms, would sometimes have to clean up after him, and even saw him around campus some. Sadly, it seemed as if your schedules never matched up to see eachother again and despite all the near meet-ups, you didn’t have a chance to talk to him again. You wanted to as well… you were worried about the anxious transfer student and wanted to make sure that he was doing ok. 

Part of you wanted to seek him out. The campus was small and you were fairly positive that the two of you saw glimpses of each other (and just didn’t realize) so seeking him out wouldn’t be too hard to do. That part of you was overshadowed by a worry that he didn’t want to try to have a friendship with you or the little flirting you did near the end of the night was too much and now he never wanted to talk to you again. Of course it was a mostly irrational fear (hopefully), but it kept you from trying to find Yugyeom.

 . Just as you were starting to give up hope of seeing him again, you were proven wrong. It was another late shift at the shifter union and since you didn’t have any dier work that needed to be done, you simply sat one one of the couches and read.You were still present in case anyone wanted to be in the space, but you were trying to relax. It was somewhat hard though as you were also very aware of the security guard who was slowly meandering around the unions commons and making sure that everything was ok. As the guard spent more and more time slowly walking around the commons, you started paying less and less attention to your book, instead your senses honing in on the guard. It was likely due to your raccoon part that you felt so cautious around the guard but the longer he stuck in the union commons, the worse you felt about him. 

He was taking glances at you. Maybe he was just double checking to make sure all was alright but your mind started to wander. You hadn’t had issues with this guard but you knew that some of the security guards were iffy around the shifters they thought they could dominere. Part of you wished that you weren’t on pheromone blockers so you could show him that you were not a shifter to be messed with. That you could be intimidating and a force to be reckoned with. Technically raccoons were apex predators.

Before your mind started to wander further about how you could intimidate or protect yourself against the guard, the union door opened and the smell of Yugyeom filled your senses. Almost as soon as it hit your nostrils, you felt yourself relax. Part of you told yourself that it was simply due to having another person in the room and a male shifter at that (another part of you swooned when you caught a glimpse of Yugyeom in all his glory). 

The guard  huffed and, as Yugyeom started to settle into a seat somewhat near you, the guard left the room. As he left, you wondered what he was thinking and if he actually wanted to try something or if your anxiety was all in your head. You really hoped it was all in your head. 

Slowly, you relaxed in your seat, part of your brain still focusing on Yugyeom while you tried to continue reading. His smell comforted you.  You didn’t know why, but you didn’t feel the need to question it. Instead, you simply settled further into your chair and focused on your book again, taking deep breaths all the while.

As the night dragged on, you occasionally checked on Yugyeom to make sure that he was ok (and maybe see if he was looking at you. During all your “sneaky” glances, you were once again struck by how handsome he was. Even as his brows furrowed in confusion and got ink on his nose, he was so good looking. No one should look as good as he looked while doing school work.

At one point, you had to stifle a small laugh when you saw him reach for some drink he brought with him only to realize that it was empty. The shocked face he made when he realized made you want to swoon and get him another drink as well, but you didn’t want to speak and further break the delicate silence. Apparently Yugyeom must have heard your laugh because he looked up and met your eyes. Both of you simply stared at each other in awkward silence.

Fuck.

“Uh… what were you drinking?” You asked, cringing as each word was spoken.

A sinkhole would be wonderful at this point. You really didn’t want to answer and yet he was simply looking even more confused as the silence festered, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of what to say in response. 

Fuck.

Without even giving him time to answer, you excused yourself hastily, embarrassment filling you to the brim as you practically ran out of the commons. Now you had another issue to worry about as well… what would be your excuse for leaving?

You were such a dumbass for leaving. 

Fuck.

Yugyeom was surely going to answer if you hadn’t left, and now that you suddenly left he probably thought you were rude and most definitely wouldn’t want to be your friend. All your stuff was still in the commons as well and you still had another two hours that you were supposed to be working the commons before your shift was done. It wasn’t like you could just leave and not return for the night.

The only plus you could see was that you had your lanyard with you. At least you could get something at a vending machine or something. It wasn’t the most acceptable reason to walk out of the commons before he could answer but at least it was something. 

At that thought, you briskly walked to the closest vending machine, hoping no one who was still working late in the building wouldn’t look at you or try to talk to you. It was just down the hall so it wouldn’t take you too long to get something and return as long as no one talked to you. 

Before you punched in a number for one of the foods in the machine though, you found yourself realizing that you had no idea what he liked to eat. As if tonight couldn’t get any more embarrassing. It was like part of you was dying as you stared angrily at the vending machine for help (not like it was sentient and could suddenly shout “This is the food Yugyeom gets every time!”).

In the end, you settled for getting him one of your favorite snacks from the vending machine and praying that Yugyeom had some sense in food. As you slowly walked back to the commons, different scenarios played through your mind depending on how he reacted. It wasn’t until you almost entered that you wondered if he was even still in the commons. 

He was, thankfully. 

When you entered, you stopped at the door though, suddenly worried about going up to Yugyeom and giving him the snack… It wasn’t a big deal… but what if he was allergic to what you got? Or what if he…

“Are you just going to stand by the door?” His voice cut through your thoughts.

You coughed awkwardly, “No… Sorry for leaving so suddenly earlier… I… uh… I had to pee. Badly. To make it up though…” You shuffled to him and quickly set the snack in front of him, “Here’s a snack. I didn’t know what to get you so I got my favorite.”

He looked shocked, “Thank you! I love this snack! I was drinking a matcha latte by the way. The cafe downstairs makes a really good latte. I’m addicted.”

“They are so amazing.” You laughed and nodded, quickly sitting in your seat again as relief filled you, “I remember having like five a day until I ran out of swipes for it on my card and had to struggle without them for the rest of the semester… which had like two months left.”

Yugyeom snorted and you felt a jolt of excitement at hearing it, “Yeah. One of my friends is that way with their coldbrews. Loves their honey and vanilla one.” He scrunched up his nose cutely, “It doesn’t taste good to me though.”

“You know… if you want really good matcha stuff. There’s a cafe off campus near the town’s library that is all matcha themed. They have some other stuff but almost everything uses matcha in it and it’s amazing.” 

“That sounds amazing… I’d love to go sometime… maybe…” Yugyeom stopped and you noticed a deep blush grow on his face, “Maybe we could go together sometime.”

“I’d like that a lot.” 

You felt positively giddy as you waited for Yugyeom outside of the union commons the following day, your mind racing as you tried to look calm and collected. Of course, almost every shifter in the room could smell the anxiety wafting off of you as you waited but all of them had the decency to act like you weren’t anxious… well except for Yejin who was another shifter who worked at the union and was probably your closest friend that you also worked with. 

As soon as she saw you show up with nothing but a small backpack that only held a few things and smelled your anxiety, she knew right away that you weren’t in the commons to relax. When you told her that you were meeting with a… a friend, she got all excited (even more excited when you confessed that you were here earlier than needed). You weren’t normally someone who was overly worried about time, especially when it came to hanging out, but Yugyeom made you nervous and you wanted to impress. 

While Yejin started to complain about you not telling her sooner, you felt thankful that you hadn’t. She was amazing and you loved her, but you knew that if you told her that you were hanging with a guy you had a crush on, she would try to style you up. You didn’t think that this was the type of occasion for that. Besides, Yugyeom probably meant it as a friendship hang out and not a date hangout. Your gay ass never knew how to handle good looking people who wanted to be friends… especially when they were as sweet and good looking as Yugyeom. 

You so had a crush on the guy. 

Fuck.

“Haha. Looks like we both had the idea of arriving early.” Yugyeom’s laugh broke you from your train of thoughts. 

You looked up to see him enter the commons and make a b-line to you, and you were struck with how handsome he was. Not that he wasn’t normally. He always looked good, but he looked amazing in the large blue sweater and skinny jeans. What topped it off was that his hair was swept back in a graceful windblown manner, unlike the past few times where it rested in a simple bowl cut that still managed to make him look amazing.

Like you, there was also a smell of nervousness that radiated off of  him, but neither of you mentioned the nervous smells. If anything, his anxiousness made you feel more excited and comforted. Maybe Yugyeom thought of this as something more than two potential friends hanging out… just like you did. 

You tried to smile as naturally as possible (although, it probably looked slightly pained), “Yeah! I mean… I had a shift here just before this.”

“Oh.” Yugyeom’s smile faltered slightly and you immediately knew you messed up.

“Not like I wouldn’t have arrived early if I didn’t have a shift,” You laughed awkwardly, the two of you now walking to your car to go to the matcha shop, “Honestly, I am so bad with time, if it wasn’t’ for my shift, I would have probably been here two hours early instead of just thirty minutes early.” 

“I thought you just got off of a shift?” Yugyeom smirked and you blushed.

“I… Yeah. I mean… I got off two hours ago, went to get ready, and then I returned… not…” 

Yugyeom laughed loudly and shook his head, effectively cutting you off. Before either of you had time to respond, you made it to your car and in a somewhat awkward silence, the two of you got in and drove to the matcha place. The actual time in the cafe was… amazing. 

Laughter and amicable conversation filled the whole evening as the two of you tried multiple foods and drinks together. Before you knew it, the sun set and you had to drop Yugyeom off at campus before returning to your apartment for the night, a pile of reading waiting for you to work on the next day. All throughout the next day, you felt as if you were floating on cloud nine, a dazed smile stuck on your face when you thought back on the time at the cafe. 

It was only after not seeing Yugyeom around for a few days that you started to feel anxiety pool and bubble in you once again. 

Did you do something wrong?

You’d given him your number… he knew where he could find you… why hadn’t you two talked since?

Suddenly, you started to feel jumpy and worried, reliving the moments at the cafe over and over again so see if there was something you possibly did wrong to make Yugyeom not want to associate with you again. Maybe it was because the two if you barely talked about shifters… You weren’t a common shifter and people often had trouble guessing normally but you are now on pheromone blockers as well and that adds a whole extra layer of befuddlement, but what type of shifter you were shouldn’t matter… unless was Yugyeom one of those shifters that didn’t like associating with predators? 

No. Surely he couldn’t be that way. 

Prey shifters didn’t often use pheromone blockers in the first place… he had to have known that you were some sort of predator… so that couldn’t be it… right? 

Surly… 

You sighed and shook your head to try to release some of the anxiety you were holding. It wasn’t good for you to hold it all in like this. There was barely any time for you to shift and relax lately and at this point. It would probably give you less stress to just find Yugyeom yourself and ask instead of dwelling on why the man hasn’t messaged you yet. You didn’t need people stress along with the regular school and shifter stress. But damn, you couldn’t stop dwelling on how stupid you were for not asking for his number in return. 

Tiredly, you picked at the dinner in front of you, your body feeling the stress building. This wasn’t how you wanted to spend your Friday. You planned to go out later in your racoon form and run around for hours on end, but now that you were thinking more about it, maybe it would be good for you to spend more time in your shifter form this weekend. You didn’t want to return home yet. The apartment was empty and while normally you enjoyed the alone time, you felt the need to be around people today. 

Maybe you could put your stuff in the shifter commons and wander around campus… although many humans didn’t enjoy seeing raccoons around so maybe it would be better if you stayed in the shifter commons so that no one got too startled by you. Most people wouldn’t bat an eye at an animal in the commons. 

After picking at some more of your food, you put your dishes in a bin for the cafeteria staff and walked off, each step making you more excited for spending some time in your animal form. Inside the shifter commons there were probably a handful of people, some half-shifted and some chilling around in their animal forms.

“Hey Yejin!” You said with a smile as you made your way to Yejin (who was staffing the common today).

“Omg! Y/n! It’s so good to see you here today! I was meaning to ask, do you think you could take my shift Monday? Jisoo asked me out and Monday works best for them.” Yejin was smiling broadly as she spoke.

“Sure. Can you watch over my stuff? I want to shift and while I can still watch over it myself, with you here, I can wander more.”

“It’s a deal!” You responded eagerly, already putting your bag under her desk, your ears excitedly popping out. 

Fairly painlessly, you shifted, your clothes falling around you as you grew smaller and smaller. As soon as you fully shifted, you felt relief flood you. In the back of your mind, there was still stress to worry about, but right now, you felt relaxed and relieved. You weazled out of your heap of clothes excitedly and watched as Yejin nudged them under the table with the rest of your stuff before running off to explore the commons. In your human form, the commons were a usual gathering place but as a raccoon, it was a jungle of excitement. Soon enough, you found yourself following your nose which had locked onto some tasty smelling food somewhere in the room. You weren’t likely going to get to eat the food but you’d be damned if you weren’t going to try. The smell led to someone you didn’t expect to see in the commons.

Yugyeom. 

He hadn’t noticed you yet though and you had half the mind to turn around and explore elsewhere when someone he was next to pointed at you and started excitedly shouting.

“A trash panda! Omg! I’ve never seen a raccoon shifter before! Omg! This is so cool!” The man kept gushing as he stood up and looked at you closely, his eyes wide.

You got a strong dog wiff coming off of him and his intensity made you freeze. The man must have gotten the hint because the next second he was whimpering and closing his eyes slowly. Part of you wanted to laugh because most shifters still understood what people were saying but another part of you was comforted at how he tried to communicate with you. Slowly you closed your eyes as well before making grabby motions with your hands. You wanted to sniff him more.

He extended one of his hands, clearly understanding what you were saying, and you sniffed him slowly. 

“Yugyeom! Come introduce yourself! It’s rude to just stare!” The man said, ushering Yugyeom to join the both of you in the ground.

Yugyeom slowly blinked at you and extended his hand which you happily sniffed, enjoying the comfort that washed over you with his smell. At this point, you were fairly positive that he knew who you were but he didn’t say anything.

“Oh! Would you be willing to at some point tonight, we will be here all night,” The man shot Yugyeom a look at that addition, “Come talk to us in your human form? I’d love to be friends with you!”

“Their name is Y/n, Jackson. We’re… we’re friends.” You relished as blush spread across his face as he spoke and nodded.

“Omg! This is the person that you were telling me--” 

“Nope! Don’t continue!”

“That you want to ask on a date?” 

Your world stopped and you felt your eyes widen in shock and excitement. 

He wanted to ask you out. 

You started to jump around and made excited squeaking noises, before you could stop yourself you jumped onto Yugyeom, excitedly scenting his arm.

Jackson started laughing happily, “I guess that means they want to go on a date with you too dude!

[rae-is-typing]

Bravery

Description: Your uncle has to pick you up early from school. A case the BAU is working on lands you in a tough situation.

Characters: reader, the BAU, unnamed officers and school staff

Warnings: non consensual groping, fighting, guns, hostage situation, reader shoots someone for self defense, swearing

Word count: 3.6k

“Hotchner!” 

You glance behind you to see the giant teenage boy stomping towards you, fury radiating off of him. He shoves other students aside. Greasy brown hair falls into his face, he doesn’t bother brushing it aside. You roll your eyes, shut your locker, and shoulder your bag. You begin walking away from him, which fuels his self-righteous anger. 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, dumb bitch!” 

You keep a straight face, and keep walking the busy halls of the school. Students had started parting like the red sea, not wanting to be bulldozed by the titan toddler throwing a fit. A hand grips your shoulder hard, forcibly turning you around. You come face to face with an acne covered, pissed off linebacker. His breath smells like rotten egg so much so you physically gag. 

“Listen here, bitch-” He was cut off by you ramming your knee into his crotch. You rip your shoulder away as he doubles over, clutching his balls. Adjusting your bag with a huff, you whip around and walk away, all the while ignoring the gasps and stares you received in the hallway. 

Twenty minutes later, you’re called to the office. You stand up from your desk, grab your things, and march to the office, ready to fight the principal. 

“Y/N, have a seat.” Mrs. Huffman, one of the three secretaries, says. Her wrinkles are amplified by the fake smile gracing her cracked lips. You give a curt nod, taking the uncomfortable seat closest to the door. You pull your phone out of your back pocket, opening it up, and mindlessly scrolling through twitter.

‘Y/N,” Your vice principal, Mr. Roberts, starts, exasperation seeping into his voice. You look up from your phone to see him beckoning you into his office. You get up and walking into his office, dreading what he’s going to say. 

You sit down in front of his desk, and he takes a seat in his. “Tell me what happened in the hall, Y/N.”

“Tyler grabbed my butt before the period ended. I told him off. The bell rang, I left the classroom. He ran after me and grabbed me again. I kneed him in the crotch so he wouldn’t hurt me.” You explain, unable to keep the underlying anger out of your words.

Mr. Roberts sighs. “You can’t assault other students in the hallway, Y/N.”

“I shouldn’t have defended myself?” 

“You shouldn’t resort to violence.”

“I should’ve let it happen?”

“You should’ve waited for a teacher to get involved-”

“So I should’ve let myself get assaulted by someone twice my size without attempting to get myself out of the situation at all?” You challenge once more, anger rising further. 

“You’re a good kid, Y/N. You’re the top of your class, you have a bright future, and you have a clean record. Don’t throw it away because another student bothered you.” “Being groped is being bothered.” You deadpan, unable to keep the utter shock out of your voice. “Tell me, Mr. Roberts, has anyone ever grabbed your ass without consent?” 

His face hardens at your choice of words. “I’ll let you off with a warning. This won’t go on record. If it happens again, I will suspend you. Your uncle will be here soon to pick you up. You can wait in the office for him.” 

You grab your bag, flinging it over your shoulder while you gave him the nastiest look you could muster. Stomping out of the small subsection, you take your previous seat closest to the door. Your leg bounces up and down, your hands shake, and you’re ready to fist fight someone.

It doesn’t take a long time for Aaron to get to your school. His eyes are hard, so is his face. Rain drops fall from his coat as he marches in like a soldier on a mission into the office. His face doesn’t change when he sees you, and he signs you out without a word. You follow him out to the SUV. It’s stormy, rain pounds the sidewalks, and thunder rolls in the distance. 

The ride to his work is quiet at first, filled with tension so thick it chokes you. 

“I was just defending myself.” You say, eyes locked on the storm in front of you. Aaron’s grip on the wheel tightens, making his knuckles appear white.

“This was the worst possible time, Y/N. I understand that you get annoyed by your peers, but this has to stop.” Aaron tries to make his words even, but exasperation drips off of every letter. 

“He grabbed my ass and was going to attack me in the hallway!” You snap, turning to look at him. “Aren’t you always saying that I need to stand up for myself?”

“Not like that. There are better ways-”

“Like what? Letting myself get harassed and not do anything about?” You cut him off, hands still shaking.

“You’re supposed to get an advisor or teacher when this happens.” “Like they’d do anything. They didn’t do anything when Leah was groped in the middle of the gym. They didn’t do anything when Caleb was shoved into a locker after being beat up. They didn’t-”

“That’s enough, Y/N!” It’s his turn to snap. “You used violence when you knew that is against the school’s policy. I understand that you were put into a rough position, but sometimes you have to let it be.” 

Knowing that Aaron won’t back down, you make a noise of aggravation and sit back against the seat. As soon as he parks the car, you throw open the door and storm to the building, completely ignoring the rain that gets in your eyes and soaks your clothes. 

Security is a breeze to get through; everyone knows you and your bag is almost empty. You’re making your way to the bullpen when someone calls to you. 

“Bambina! Why aren’t you in school?” You turn to see Dave pacing towards you carrying a small tray of coffees. He holds his arms out and you step into them gratefully, and he wraps his free arm around you. “What’s the matter?”

“People fucking suck,” You sigh, embracing the older man. 

“Language, darling. Care to elaborate?” He asks as you pull away. You sigh, willing your hands to finally stop shaking from anger.

“Some dumb guy grabbed my butt at the end of class. He was going to do more in the hall, so I kneed him in the dick so he didn’t.” Dave cringes, placing his hand on your back while you walk at a slower pace to the larger area of the bullpen.

“Something tells me that isn’t everything.”

“Aaron doesn’t think I should’ve resorted to violence.” You say, some frustration returning to your voice.

It’s Dave’s turn to sigh. “Your uncle only wants the best for you, Bambina. Violence is a great way to get kicked out of school.”

“It was self-defense.” You defend. “The school system doesn’t see it that way.” “Yeah, well the system is a piece of-” “Y/N, what are you doing here?” You and Dave spot Penelope and Derek walking into the bullpen at the same time as you. You open your mouth to say something, but Peneolope beats you to the punch. 

“N/N, you look upset.” Penelope gasps, rushing forward, the sound of her heels clicking against the tile floor reverberates throughout the busy bullpen. “Oh, my precious thing, what happened? “This guy grabbed my ass, so I kneed him in the balls, and got excused from school.” You say as she cups your face. This is standard behavior from Penelope, in her words you’re ‘A precious bundle of sunshine that I must protect at any cost because you’re one of the only good things left on this deranged planet.’ 

“I’m sorry, N/N. Are you okay?” She all but coos.

“I’m fine, just really frustrated.”

“What a scumbag. What happened to him?” Derek asks.

“No idea, but I hope he feels it for a few days.” You scoff. “If he gets off with nothing, I’m gonna be even more furious.”

The murmurs of agreement that spread throughout the small group is swallowed by the sounds of not only the other BAU agents, but regular police officers too. There are at least six officers, and many other FBI officials. “Am I allowed to know what’s going on?”  You frown.

“Some stuff with the local PD. Nothing to worry your pretty little head over,” Derek remarks, ruffling your hair to make a point. You smile, batting his hands away. Dave passes out the coffee, and you sit near the group table, pulling out your phone as a distraction. Aaron comes in a moment later.

“Y/N, head up to my office. You don’t need to hear anything about this case.” He says without making eye contact. You don’t respond verbally, only get up, grab your stuff and go to his office. Normally, you’d put up a fight, but you’re barely allowed in the bullpen as is, and you don’t want to sacrifice that privilege. 

His office is clean save for the papers littering his desk. You take a seat on the chair behind the desk, and go back to playing on your phone. 

It’s not long before an alarm goes off. It’s high pitched and shakes the room. Your hands immediately shield your ears from the screeching noise. Officers and agents alike are scrambling out the door, leaving half the BAU and only four officers left. 

One of the officers barks something into a walkie talkie, and the alarm finally shuts off. You relax back into the chair, but keep a watchful eye over the rest of the bullpen.

Within minutes, two new officers have replaced the old ones and are getting in Dave’s face, not trying to hide the fact that they’re arguing about something. Penelope and Spencer are trying to diffuse the situation, but it doesn’t seem to be working.

Then the lights flicker. It starts slow, then gets faster until the lights just give out. The bullpen is now shrouded in darkness, making Aaron’s office pitch black. You’re about to turn on the flashlight on your phone when you hear two loud bangs.

You’ve heard the sound of gunshots before, but that was when your uncle took you to a shooting range in a very controlled environment. Remembering everything Aaron has ever taught you about active shootings, you fall to your knees and hide under the desk. You press you back against the desk, clutching your knees to your chest. Breathing as evenly as you can, you strain your ears for any sound.

Muffled yelling wafts through the air and reaches your strained ears. Two more bangs. The yelling stops. You breathe hitches as tears fill your eyes. Someone is dead, you’re sure of it. Pressing your hand against your mouth, you keep the sounds of your distress at bay.

What feels like hours pass when you hear footsteps coming towards the office. Curling up tighter, you try to make yourself as small as possible. The door is thrown open hitting the wall with a boom. You bite down on your lip, dig your fingernails in the soft flesh of your palm, and hold your breath.

Loud stomps come towards you and stop. “Come out, kid. I know you’re here.” He barks. A few more steps. “You better show yourself or you’ll be sorry.” A couple more steps. Tears begin to fall down your cheeks. Wiping them away, you start to resign yourself to your fate. 

Suddenly, the chair is thrown back and your wrist is grabbed. You yelp sharply as your entire body is torn out from under the desk. An arm wraps around your neck, loose enough so you’re able to breathe, but tight enough so you’re unable to get away.

“Listen hard, okay? You’re going to come downstairs and play nicely while we get what we need, understood.” The man’s breath tickles your neck as he speaks, arm tightening around your neck ever so slightly as the other snakes around your midsection.

“Yes,” You say, desperately trying to keep the rest of your tears in your eyes. 

He drags you down the stairs. Through the little natural light, you can make out a small huddle of people in the middle of the bullpen. A shove to your back makes you land hard on your knees next to the huddle. Pain spreads up your legs and through you wrists, making you wince. Without much time to react, you’re gathered in someone’s arms. They pull you close to them and begin to whisper. 

“It’s okay, Bambina,” It’s Dave, and you want to bawl. You’re supposed to be the tough teenager, not a crying child. All of the adrenaline and anger had faded, leaving you shaking from fear and not indignation. “We’ll get you out of here.”

You can only nod along to the comforting words he whispers. He rubs one hand up and down your back, using the other to press your head against his chest. 

Glancing up, you see three officers. All of them wield what look to be rifles and they circling the group like vultures. There’s a pile of cellphones and weapons in the middle of the pile. You shift, confirming that your phone is still in your back pocket, covered by the sweatshirt you stole from Aaron. 

Suddenly, there’s a noise reverberating through the room. A generic ringtone, something overly obnoxious. You hold your breath and shift again, trying to feel any vibration. It’s not yours. One of the police officers walks out of the room. The other two get closer to the group, compensating for the loss. Dave tightens the grip he has around you. It’s silent for a few minutes. The only thing in the air is tension. You can barely make out the face of Spencer across the circle. He’s doing that thing where he has to sit still, but he’s busy putting two and two together to solve a case. His eyes dart around the room, his fingers drum on his legs, and he’s mouthing something. JJ sits next to him, a very concerned look etched into her face. Penelope is nowhere to be found. 

The sound of weighted footsteps approaches the small circle quickly. The officer that left returns, very infuriated. He holds his rifle close to his side as he once again yanks you to your feet and away from Dave’s protective grip. 

You gasp, immediately struggling. Cries of protest rise from the rest of the BAU. 

“Take me instead,” Dave demands, standing up. “I’m more valuable than her, you’ll get more of what you want if you have an esteemed FBI agent instead of a civilian." 

The officer’s face twists. Without hesitation, he slams the butt onto Dave’s forehead. He crumples to the floor, clutching his now injured head.

You fight tears once again. I need to be strong. I can’t be scared right now. I can’t be scared. I can’t be scared…. Your inner mantra replays in your head as your forced down a narrow hallway, the officer gripping your arm. You walk along with him, breath shallow and tears stuck in your eyes. 

But then you notice something.

A smaller handgun sits loosely in a holster attached to his hip. The grip of the gun is hanging out of the holster, almost falling out with each hurried step. 

If you could just… 

When you turn a corner, he lets go of you. You make your choice in a split second. Surging forward, you grab the grip, turn the safety off, and you pull the trigger. You hit him in the hip just below where a bullet proof vest would be. The you cock the gun and shoot one more time in his thigh. 

As soon as the last shot goes you, turn the safety back on, and begin to sprint. 

The only advantage you have in this situation is your knowledge. Thanks to Penelope and Kevin giving you a very in depth tour of the place when you first started tagging along with Aaron, you know every nook and cranny on this floor, and the ones above you.

With the help of another rush of adrenaline, you easily sprint down the hallway. All semblance of rational thought left your mind. All that’s left is the instinct to run as far and as fast as you can. 

You run until you’ve managed to get up to the top floor of the building. Because of the outage, every door is unlocked, but really heavy. You push the final door with all your might. It doesn’t budge. The blood rushing through you is the only thing that matters, it’s the only thing you hear and the only thing you feel. You give it another shot, using every muscle in your body. There is a loud creak as it finally budges, allowing you to slip inside.

The top floor is the only one you’ve never been in. The little natural light is starting to fade. You need to find a place to hide and find one fast. Jogging down the halls, you find that all of the doors to the offices are closed, and mostly likely locked. 

You swear under your breath, stopping at a corner. You hear the loud creak of the door as it’s opened. Fuck. 

Your blood runs cold. You don’t wait to listen for footsteps this time, you haul ass down the corridor until you’ve come wide area with a ton of doors. You slam your body against the door next to you while turning the handle. Nothing. 

You stumble to the door across from it. Locked as well. You try one last door as you hear footsteps over the blood roaring in your ears. 

Finally. This one is unlocked. You fall inside of an empty room, landing on your knees once more. A pained noise slips from your lips, and you freeze. The footsteps are still coming. You kick the door closed and push yourself into a sitting position next to the hinges.

Once again, you press your shaking hands over your mouth. Heavy breaths come out through your nose. You squeeze your eyes shut, a few tears slipping out. You clutch the gun to your chest, slowly taking it off of safety.

At some point during the night’s events, your phone fell out of your pocket. You aren’t sure when, nor are you able to call anyone or tell them you tried your best to stay alive. More tears fall from your eyes. 

You’re going to die. 

Those fuckers are going to get revenge for their buddy, and you’re going to die. 

“Y/N! Y/N are you here?” 

What? You stop breathing for a second, that sounds like Derek. 

“Y/N!” And that’s Spencer. 

You don’t dare move, blink, or breathe as shock envelopes your body.

“Has anyone else found her?” Derek demands, sounding as stressed as ever. “Not yet. Morgan, what if she-” “No, Spencer. Don’t.” Derek’s voice is full of desperation, and mainly fear.

That’s enough for you. You push yourself off the floor with one hand. Opening the door, you get blinded by light. You wince, covering your eyes with your free arm. The bright LED light from their flashlights were a lot to take after not seeing any light for god knows how long. 

"Y/N, oh thank God.” Derek breathes out. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I-I don’t know." 

"C'mere.” He says, wrapping an arm around you. You feel the gun being pulled from your grip. “Spencer, call the others." 

You melt into his embrace as the tears finally fall, steadily and silently.

Downstairs, Aaron paces wildly with red rimming his eyes. The local police department was corrupt and had been after important documents that would lead to incredible opportunities for organized crime. The BAU caught on too late to stop the hostage situation, but when they realized what the officers had been after, they sprung into action.

When the others told him about you being taken by the leader, the gunshots they heard, and the fact that neither of you came back to the bullpen, his mind jumped to the worst. All of their minds did. But when they went searching, they found the leader bleeding out in a hallway, missing a gun with you nowhere to be found. 

Now, Aaron can’t stop pacing. Dave sits close by, injuries tended to. His attempts to comfort his friend fell of deaf ears. 

But Aaron can’t lose you too. He was supposed to keep you safe. He took you in because his brother couldn’t keep you safe. Even with the call from Spencer, he couldn’t believe you were okay until he sees it. He gets his reassurance when he sees the elevator opens. Morgan has an arm around you, bracing you and protecting you from any perceived threat. 

You rush forward when you see him, throwing your arms around his neck. 

“You’re okay.” He says, comforting both you and himself. “I’m sorry,” You choke out. 

“What for?” He asks. That was certainly not the reaction he was expecting. 

“I shot him. I’m sorry, I didn’t know what else to do-”

“Y/N.” Aaron pushes you away from his chest so he can look you in the eyes. “You did what you had to. You were protecting yourself.” You can only nod with tears in your eyes. He brings you back into his arms, fingers carding through your hair for both your comfort and his. You bury your head in his chest, blocking the rest of the world out. 

Everything is going to be okay.

[flowerpowell]

The Dream Life of Ellie Wheeler (Colt x MC // Logan x MC)

PART THREE

A/N: .... I headcanon (fancanon?) that Colt and Ellie live in the same house as they did in The Boy Next Door (except we only have one bedroom here 😉). Sorry for the wait but I hope it’ll be worth it. Let me know what you think about this series because I’m still unsure 🙊 

Rating: G 

Tagging: @delightfullypinkglitter, @mskaneko, @desiree-pow, @lovehugsandcandy, @badchoicesposts​, @kingliam2019​, @client-327​, @walkerduchess​, @sophxwithers​ ❣

“I go on too many dates But I can't make 'em stay At least that's what people say, mm, mm That's what people say, mm, mm”

“My daddy commissary made it to commas Bitch, all my grandmas dead So ain't nobody prayin' for me, I'm on your head, ayy”

“Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake”

“If I gotta go hard on a bitch, I'ma make it look sexy I pull up, hop out, air out, made it look sexy They won't take me out my element Nah, take me out my element”

“Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake I shake it off, I shake it—"

“Hey!” Ellie exclaimed when Colt turned off the radio. “I was listening to something, you know!”

“I was listening to something as well,” he replied, his eyes glued to the road ahead of them. “But since you kept changing my song back to that pop shit, I’d rather drive in silence.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. They were on the road for many hours now and apart from the time she took to take a nap, they had been arguing about the music playing in the car majority of the time.

“Taylor Swift is not that bad, actually. I’m sure you’d enjoy—”

“Right now, all I want is to enjoy the silence.” Colt narrowed his eyes but still didn’t look at Ellie.

“Hey! I have that song somewhere on my phone! I can play it and—”

“Ellie! I’m driving! Can you keep your mouth shut for at least ten minutes?”

“Okay, okay. Sorry,” she quickly said and looked away. Not that there was much to look at but she didn’t want risk Colt changing his mind and driving her back to California. After all, he agreed to her plan and now they were driving to Oklahoma. Ellie really tried to be nice to him. Colt definitely didn’t even bother. Not that she expected anything else.

Her father also didn’t take it in very well. When she came home with marriage certificate in one hand, dragging Colt with the other one, detective Wheeler almost passed out from anger. And shock. But mostly anger.

She knew why.

Yes, he was angry that she got married without telling him but she married a Kaneko. And her father hated Teppei and devoted his life to find dirt on him. And now with Ellie being married to a Kaneko, Mr. Wheeler had to drop the case completely in the name of ‘no family affairs’ policy. Colt’s “hello Daddy” probably didn’t help either. In short, her father was so angry that Ellie was sure there was no higher level of angry.

Colt and Ellie left the same day and Ellie hadn’t spoken to her father since. Freedom tasted a bit sad but so good at the same time.

“Oh! McDonald’s! I’m so hungry, maybe we could—” Ellie pointed her finger at the restaurant as Colt picked up speed and they passed it in a blink of the eye. She looked at her husband and rolled her eyes. He couldn’t even bother to hide that awful smirk. Jerk.

“Your ten minutes of no talking isn’t over yet,” he noticed and Ellie sighed. This man was a nightmare.

Just a few more weeks. You’re doing it for Langston. Think of Langston. Think of—

“We have only six more hours. I think it’s pointless to stop anywhere to eat. You can make dinner when we’re home, wifey.” Colt finally looked at her and smiled smugly. Ellie wanted to punch him so bad but instead she only nodded and focused on the road.

Langston. Think of Langston.

~~~~

Colt didn’t intend to make it any easier for Ellie Wheeler. She blackmailed him, him, and now he was stuck with her. He couldn’t even leave the country as he wanted initially because her father would be capable of sending literal troops after him.

He still remembered Mr. Wheeler’s face when he realized Ellie married him. Teppei Kaneko’s son. For a short moment, Colt thought Mr. Wheeler would explode. Literally explode because Colt could count every single vein on his neck and face. At least he had to drop his father’s case. Colt was safe, as Ellie promised.

He looked at Ellie as she was stretching after the long ride. She was like a weed, he couldn’t get rid of her no matter what he tried to do.

“Here we are,” Colt said, taking his suitcases and leaving Ellie’s still in the car. “Take your stuff and you can start making dinner. I’m quite hungry.”

“You wouldn’t be if you’d stop at McDonald’s! Or literally anywhere else.”

“Why would I do it if my wife works in a coffee shop and is great at cooking?”

He heard her taking a deep breath and counting quietly to ten.

As he said. He had no intention of making it any easier for Ellie Wheeler.

~~~~

After dinner, for which Ellie ordered pizza since there was nothing edible in the house, Colt went upstairs to his bedroom, leaving Ellie alone downstairs. Her suitcases were still in the living room and she wondered where she was supposed to go. The house was pretty small; there was a spacious living room and a kitchen on the first floor and one bedroom and a bathroom on the second.

Ellie climbed up the stairs and hesitantly knocked on Colt’s bedroom door. At least two minutes passed before he opened the door.

“Yes?”

“Umm… Where can I sleep?” She asked hoping there was another bedroom which she hadn’t noticed before. She surely didn’t want to sleep with Colt in the same room. Considering what Colt thought about her, she was sure he felt the same.

“Definitely not here,” he replied.

“That I know.” Ellie took a deep breath. “But I need to sleep somewhere.”

Colt shrugged. “Not my problem. Should’ve thought about it before you made me marry you.”

“I’m sorry, okay! It’s only temporary, I’ll ask around and find a place in a dormitory and you’ll get rid of me.”

“You can sleep in the living room. Sofa’s comfortable.” And with that, Colt closed the door, ending their conversation.

Ellie went downstairs and put her blankets and pillows on the sofa, taking a mental note to buy some bedding. She took a quick shower, taking another mental note to buy a shower gel because the one she found smelled like Colt and she didn’t like it. Feeling a rush of anxiety, she ran to her improvisatorial bed. She closed her eyes, dreaming of her life here, hoping her mother would be proud.

~~~~

“See you’re already in a wife mode.”

“What?” Ellie stopped reading a book to look at Colt.

“Wearing baggy sweats and all. I think I’ve seen you in this Langston sweatshirt a million times and I’ve known you only for a few days,” Colt mocked her, not trying even for a split second to be nice to someone who blackmailed him.

“Well, it’s not like I have anyone to impress,” Ellie snapped back and Colt rolled his eyes. If he thought his job was difficult, he clearly never experienced being fake-married to someone like Ellie Wheeler. Although to be fair, he was probably more awful to her than she to him.

“Good,” he thought to himself. “She blackmailed me. She deserves it.”

And even though he hated her, he also understood her. She wasn’t the only one with a terrible father.

“Did Mona leave the country?” She suddenly asked.

“Hm? Why are you asking?”

“Just curious. You said it was your last job so I assumed…”

“Yeah, left. I would too if someone didn’t force me to put a ring on my finger.” He waved his left hand to prove a point. He wasn’t even sure why he was putting this stupid wedding band onto his finger every day. Ellie wasn’t wearing hers.

“As I said… I’m sorry. But at least my father dropped the case. And as far as I’m concerned no one else was involved in it but my father so… you’re in the clear.”

“Gee, thanks. How nice of you.”

“So it was you and Mona then? Only the two of you? Or is there someone else?”

Colt eyed her suspiciously. “Why are you asking?”

“Just curious,” she repeated. “When Teppei was still around I didn’t see anyone else. And then only you and Mona.” She was silent for a moment. “Colt?”

“Yea?”

“I’m really sorry about your father.”

Colt didn’t say anything for a while and Ellie assumed it was the end of their conversation. She went back to reading her book when he spoke.

“Just me, Mona and Pop.”

“Like three musketeers.” Ellie smiled.

“No. Like MPC.”

“MPC?”

“Geez, don’t you have classes to go to or something?” Colt rolled his eyes.

“Not in another two hours,” she replied. The classes technically hadn’t started yet but Ellie signed up for additional classes for freshman students.

“Mercy Park Crew. That’s us.”

“Hmm, I’ve seen MPC somewhere in my father’s files but I’m pretty sure he never realized it was you.”

“And hopefully he never will,” Colt added. Why was he telling her all of this?

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Was there anything in the files?” Colt asked. “About other car gangs?”

Ellie looked at him curiously. “No… Are there any other gangs?”

Colt was looking somewhere in the distance and it took him a moment to reply. “Yea. Our rivals. Forget it.”

“I could… do some research if you’d like—”

“Just go to your class, okay? Stop with this investigation,” he said and left the house, banging the door on his way out.

Ellie sat stunned for a few minutes before she finally decided she’d rather come too early to her class than stay in the house for another second.

~~~~

Freedom smelled like fall, felt like sun warming her face, tasted like cold air and looked like Oklahoma.

Ellie’s dream life was finally starting.

She felt tears forming in her eyes as she looked at her Langston University. Everything she went through, the arguments with her father, marrying Colt, bearing with Colt… it was all worth it.

Slowly, looking around as if not wanting to miss a single thing, she made her way through the campus. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Freedom filled her lungs. She was walking with her eyes closed, smile on her face. Everything was—

“Ooof!” She bumped into someone and would have fallen if the stranger didn’t catch her in time. Dream life or not, she still was clumsy.

“You know,” the stranger started, helping her stand up. “There are easier ways to get my attention.”

“I, uh… Thanks. I’m sorry about bumping into you. I won’t happen again, I promise.”

“It won’t? Too bad.”

“I… I’m sorry… I…” Ellie stammered as the handsome stranger smirked.

“First day?”

“Yes,” Ellie got her voice back. “I’m Ellie.”

“Nice to meet ya, Ellie. I’m Logan.”