#i remember pulling up a calendar for this fic. a calendar in a specific year in the past and i honestly have No Idea why i was

[aria0fgold]

I just realized, to my horror, that in order for me to be able to get back to working on oafb... I'd need to not only read from the beginning of it, but replay OMORI as well as dig through my notes, wherever they are, in hopes I find the one that has oafb's timeline CUZ PAST ME DECIDED TO ME TOO DETAILED WITH IT

[gyllenhaalstories]

PILLOW TALK — DAVIS MITCHELL 🎂

summary: it’s your birthday and davis baked you a cake and built you a pillow fort. oh! and nothing was demolished during your birthday celebration, so what more could you ask for?

warnings: i’m going off the rails pretending i understand demolition on a profound level, eating, fluff. 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 1830

gifs credits: @/stephendorff (cropped) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: today is my birthday and i am, for the third time, making it everyone’s problem with a self indulgent fic during which i enjoy some cozy time with my wife, davis. 🛋️ thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

“What do we do with a couch like this?” Davis looked at you with a small grin on his bearded face. He pointed his index fingers down at the couch while he sank further into the cushions.

Your first instinct was to say to buy a new one. And your instinct was not wrong, the couch had seen better days. The seats were worn out, torn at the seams. It got bumps in some places from when you had struggled to carry it in the living room. It could benefit from never carrying the weight of your world again and passing along this responsibility to a fresher, newer couch. Despite all of those thoughts running through your head, you did not speak. You watched. You watched Davis while he pulled the couch apart.

He plopped the decorative pillows and blankets on the floor. He dragged the couch away from the wall and grunted while he flipped it so that the back rest now created a roof. He used the big seat cushions as walls on each side and he surprised himself, realizing that it seemed sturdy enough to keep this shape.

You watched him demolish and build anew. It was not the first time that he transformed your living room in a pillow fort, but there was something different about the way he built it, like he was putting his heart into it. There was something different about him, period. With that thought lingering at the back of your mind, you tried to intervene. He turned down every single offer of help that you made and he insisted that he could do it alone.

“It’s your birthday." Davis simply answered, as if this specific date on the calendar prevented you from doing anything at all. Even when you two were baking a box cake mix together an hour ago, he only let you preheat the oven. He did the rest all on his own. Well, he tried to. The last time he had attempted to make a cake this way, it was with his mom years and years ago. He murmured under his breath that it wasn’t considered fancy enough so he stopped having them.

The idea sparked in his mind when you told him that you did not have anything planned for your birthday. He showed up, dressed in baggy pants and suspenders, with the box of overpriced chocolate cake he somehow found at a gas station that carried some groceries, for emergencies and last minute plans. You were lucky that it had not expired already.

Davis insisted that birthdays required a cake. So he got to work. Davis insisted that he must prepare it for you, so he did. He wanted to give you this special attention. This special attention came with the secret term and condition that he must eat the batter straight from the spatula until the oven beeped, announcing it was ready. You did not quite have a cake anymore, the mould was half empty (”Half full,” Davis rectified).

It was the thought that counted. And you definitely appreciated Davis’ thoughtfulness. You laughed when he told you he did not care about the stains of batter on his clothes, the army surplus had many more he could buy. You wiped the dishes dry after he washed them, laughing again at how he was making a mess of soapy water everywhere. It was not the cake that held sentimental value, it was the moment you were sharing together.

“Your castle is waiting for you, milady.” The upper half of Davis’ body peeked out of the pillow fort. Somehow he had found a flashlight in your living room and he used it to light up the inside of the fort. A wide smile, from ear to ear, greeted you when you walked across the living room and got on all fours to crawl into the mountain of cushions and pillows.

Before you crawled, you handed the plate of leftover cake to Davis so you both could have a snack in the cozy fort. You took a bite as soon as you were settled in. Soon enough the air was getting warm under the blankets and you took off the cardigan you were wearing.

Davis grabbed it and set it aside for you. He looked at you, still smiling wide. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you.” You pushed the plate of cake in his direction. He made the last few bites of the chocolate dessert disappear. It caused him to giggle at himself and the happy sound of his boyish laugh made you smile back at him. “It’s been a very happy birthday with you.”

Silence crept between the two of you. He was not a very talkative man, for the most part, and it was hard to come up with a conversation topic a lot of the time. You were learning to welcome the silences. And you were also learning to accept the more random conversations, the wild thoughts that ran through Davis’ mind and that he spoke out loud, half intentionally and half accidentally. “I like this couch.”

You chuckled and nodded slowly. “You do?” You encouraged him to keep talking.

“Yeah. It’s... You know, it’s comfortable. It makes the room comfortable.” He fidgeted with the spoon in his hands. He was sitting, cross-legged, with his back making a bow. It would probably hurt tomorrow. But tomorrow was another day, another set of problems. There was no problem in this moment, with you. “I hated my house. It was just shiny stuff.” 

His eyebrows arched on his forehead, creating wrinkles that you found yourself thinking of kissing.

“I love your house. It’s just full of you.” He shrugged. “You’re everywhere in this house. I like that. That’s where I want to be.”

“I’m happy you feel like this. Thank you for telling me, Davis.”

“You’re welcome.” He gave you a corner smile and brought a hand to his head. He quickly scratched his scalp and knocked his knuckles on his forehead. It looked as though he was holding himself back, or that he was getting lost in his thoughts.

You couldn’t tell. You offered silence instead as you watched him.

You watched him switch positions from sitting to laying down. “Do you want to do something tomorrow?” He marked a pause. “Together?”

The question surprised you. He did not make plans, usually. He was more of a show up at your door, ringing the doorbell and hang out until his social battery died kind of guy. You knew that about him, only you had always wondered why he would hang out for a longer period of time with you than with anyone else. “I’d love that.”

The flashlight flickered a little bit. His eyelids were getting heavy. “I’d love that too.”

“Good.” You looked at him, your eyes squinting while trying to read what was going on behind those blue eyes.

Davis’ legs were sticking out of the fort, uncovered and exposed to the much cooler air of the room. He rested his head on your bunched up cardigan and he laid on his side, watching you watching him.

“You look tired.” You smiled faintly, he yawned as you spoke.

“Is it midnight yet?” He was not used to staying up late. He got better at it than before, but his body woke up ridiculously early every day like clock work. When you shook your head no, having quickly peeked out of the pillow fort to look at the clock on the wall, he took a deep breath. “I want to be with you until the end of the day.”

You smiled again, this time wider. You decided to lay down next to him. Your faces and bodies were close, but there was a comfortable distance. “You know…” Davis’ big puppy eyes stared at you. “Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in your head.”

Your eyes were met with Davis’ usual blank stare, one that left you perpetually perplexed. It seemed as though there were a million thoughts running through his head but also none at the same time. He took another deep breath. His eyes looked at yours, then looked at the rest of your face and down to your lips. He did not respond with words, but he still gave you a surprising answer.

Your eyes widened from the surprise when you saw him moving closer to you. He got closer and closer, slowly and tentatively.

Davis erased the distance between the two of you and kissed you, gently and tenderly. His lips moved slowly against yours while he made the kiss last for several seconds. His heart was racing, and so was yours. He pulled away and studied your face briefly.

You thought he was afraid of your reaction, when he buried his face in your neck without waiting for you to say or do something. You could not be more wrong.

He kept his face there, hidden in your neck. The smell of the perfume on your skin, the scent of your baking shenanigans on your clothes, the warmth of your body as well as the familiar feeling of your embrace when you wrapped your arms around him… It made him feel safe, it made him feel good. So good that his body relaxed in your arms. Soon enough, you realized, by the way his breathing slowed down and by the faint snoring noises that he made, that Davis had fallen asleep on you.

You relaxed too. Your hands started to stroke his back until you stopped, feeling the urge to hold him close and tight against your body. You looked up to the blankets draped over the couch above you. One sudden move and it could all fall apart. It was a good metaphor for your birthday. One sudden thought and you would spiral away. However, if you stayed right here and there in this moment, this simple yet agreeable birthday celebration would carry on.

Davis did not tell you what was going on in his head nor did he tell you, in full honesty, what he truly and genuinely cared about when you asked him earlier. You dropped the question like a bomb while he was mixing the ingredients of the cake. He told you that the last time he truly cared about something, it went all the way back to when he was a kid and he wanted to run faster than his peers. You could tell this was not the truth, but you let it slide. There would be another time to ask this question, and hopefully another time to kiss again. He let the kiss, this shy yet meaningful peck on your lips, speak for himself. 

The pillow talk was nice, but that kiss was even nicer. The butterflies in your stomach that appeared because of the kiss (perhaps they had been flying quietly for a long time prior) were the greatest birthday gift he could have given you.

[twostepstyless]

Party Games

Fic Advent Calendar Day 17

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Authors Note: Harry get's a little handsy before their annual Christmas house party so Y/N sets him a challenge, a game he never wants to play again. Inspo for this one came from that photo of him behind the bar in the black shirt holding like 3 glasses in one hand, and the video of him dancing to dirty dancing on the bar with Kristen Wiig

As always, reblogs, likes and feedback of any and all varieties is appreciated and encouraged, only 8 fics left! - G <3

Word Count: 2k

SFW

———

Y/N and Harry were having a busy week, they had planned and had their Friendsmas dinner, they had their special Christmas date night and now their annual Christmas party all within a matter of days of one another. Their party was something their friends and colleagues looked forward to every year, Harry and Y/N were outstanding hosts and generally were just supplying a place to get intoxicated, if they so wished, and to kick off the festivities. Harry, especially, loved the party. He loved having an excuse to socialise and have their home filled with people and if he was able to provide a good time for all those people, then even better. 

“Baby? D’you think the frozen marg station should sit here or over by the fridge?” Harry lugged the tabletop slushy machine under his arm as Y/N was loading up their freezer with bags of ice. 

“I think it’s fine where y’had it H, if people are by the fridge, they’re going for somethin’ specific, not a marg,” Y/N stood from where she was bent over the opened freezer drawer, rubbing her hands together quickly to warm them back up. 

“Mm, suppose so,” he set the machine down, plugging it in ready to create his first batch of his favourite frozen cocktail. 

“Most important question though,” Y/N bounced over to Harry, wrapping her arms around his middle, pressing a kiss into his shoulder before resting her cheek against his back. “Can I put all the bottles on the kitchen island or are y’planning to get on top of it again this year?” she giggled, kissing the middle of his back again before he grabbed her hands clasped around him and spun himself round to face her, propping himself up on the countertop behind him, keeping her in his grip. 

“I can’t promise that I won’t,” he smirked, remembering last year when he was joyfully drunk and ended up on the island screaming his own rendition of All I Want for Christmas is You by Mariah Carey.  

“So, we’ll go for bottles on the side then rather than the island, I don’t know how impressed I’ll be if I need to clean up a bottle of Jack Daniels off the floor and walls,” her chin rested on his chest looking up at him, pressing a kiss to his chin. 

“Better to be safe than sorry,” Harry tilted his head down, nudging his nose against hers before not being able to hold himself back and pressing a kiss on her lips, his hands slipping from the grip he held on her arms to wrap around her waist and fold on her lower back, pulling her in closer as he deepened the kiss with a breathy exhale against her lips. His tongue slipped between her lips as they tasted their shared breath.  She could feel the brush of his stubble against the smooth of her cheek as his nose brushed and rubbed against her own as their lips moulded and shaped against one another. 

“We need t’stop,” Y/N breathed as she tried to part from him, but Harry’s lips migrated instead, across her cheek, up by her eye, her forehead, her other cheek before he licked a stripe down the side of her neck. “Harry,” she gasped out, a warning tone evident in her voice. 

“Don’t want t’stop, don’t make me,” he begged against her neck, sucking his mark onto the delicate skin of her neck. 

“We have so much to do,” she combed her fingers through his hair, tugging slightly, to get him to give up his latch on her neck, hearing him whine as he broke away. 

“Let me do you first,” he winked, hands dipping lower to grasp at the full of her bum before she swatted his hands away. 

“Nope, you’re banned,” she held each of his wrists in each of her hands as Harry looked appalled. 

“Banned? From what?” Harry looked terrified at whatever she was about to say.

“From touching, no touching me until I say so, we’ve got far too much t’do, so paws off mister,” she had an evil sort of glint in her eye as she set his challenge. 

“That’s evil, Y/N/N, really evil. Have y’seen yourself? How am I supposed to resist?” he groaned, wiggling his arms trying to break the vice like grip she held onto his wrists. 

“Guess y’better figure it out, no touching until I say,” she smirked before letting him go and starting to pull bottles of liquor, spirits and every mixer and cocktail ingredient you could think of out of the bags Harry had delivered from their favourite liquor store. 

*** 

Harry’s hands were twitching, and he was becoming increasingly impatient. Everything was set up in their house, frozen margaritas spinning in the machine, some pre-made cocktails ready in pitchers, every alcohol you could name on every available surface around the kitchen, apart from the kitchen island which will inevitabley become Harry’s makeshift dancefloor in a few hours as long as Y/N’s twisted game didn’t kill him off first. He had his carefully curated playlist playing through the sound system they had installed throughout the bottom floor of their home as he heard Y/N’s footsteps cut through the music as she made her way downstairs after getting ready for their party. She looked sufficiently ready for a Christmas party in a pretty sequinned number and her tall heels, that would immediately be swapped out for her slippers as soon as everyone had arrived and taken a few photos. Her legs went on for days and Harry wanted to memorise every inch of them with his fingertips if she would just drop this sick act. She had styled her hair so one side of her neck was exposed to him, funnily enough she had chosen the side Harry had left the faintest mark on earlier, riling him up even further. 

With his jaw set, he held his hand out to assist her down the last few steps. She stopped two steps from the bottom, looked at his outstretched his hand then letting her eyes flicker up to his gaze, “that counts as touching, gorgeous, y’not slick,” she looked pleased with herself as she came down the last steps without his help, brushing past his hand. 

Harry’s hand closed in a fist, white knuckled, as he breathed through his frustration. All he wanted was to feel the warmth of her skin, and maybe take her into the downstairs bathroom and fuck her into the middle of next week but he’ll save that for later, hopefully. ‘Y’look beautiful, so beautiful it’s not fair really,” he complimented as she primped her hair in the mirror in the hallway. 

“Thank you, y’so pretty too,” she looked over at him, he looked effortlessly stunning in his black, short sleeved shirt, unbuttoned enough to display the full length and pendant of his necklace that swung against his chest, glinting in the low light. He looked edible, but she was enjoying watching him struggle against her challenge, so she was going to leave him festering a little longer. She walked close to him, as Harry kept his arms tight against his sides, desperate to keep himself from reaching out, determined not to break. She was close enough so that he could smell the intricacies of her scent, her perfume, her bodywash, the lotion she uses, the way those products reacted with her natural scent, sending his mind in a tailspin as he was swept up in the allure and haze of her. 

“You’re not playing fair,” he grunted. 

“It’s my game I can play how I want,” she shrugged innocently, as the doorbell rang and they could hear a rabble of laughter and chatter from their guests stood on their doorstep, she pressed up onto her tiptoes, her mouth dangerously close to his ear, “y’better go get the door, our guests are waiting,” she whispered in his ear, before stepping away from him, “I’ll save you a dance, yeah?” she winked over her shoulder, sauntering away from him as Harry had to take a few deep breaths before opening the door. 

*** 

The party was in full swing, and Harry was, for lack of a better word, pissed. He had been playing barman in the kitchen, quite enjoying making concoctions in the kitchen, some tasting a lot better than others. Every time he made someone a drink, he was having one himself and he couldn’t even tell you how many that had been at this point. He was ready to throw in the towel at Y/N’s game now as he watched her smile refract around the room like a sparkly little mirrorball as she tossed her head back laughing at the anecdote a friend was telling her. He was waiting for the right moment and by God it came, in the form of George Michael and Andrew Ridgeley. 

“Oh, my fucking God!” Harry yelled, putting down the glasses he had in his grip as the festive 80’s synth blasted around the room, his head whipped round to find her as a bright, giggly smile painted her features at Harry’s joy as he made a come here motion with his index finger as she bounced over to him, still just out of his reach, as he began singing to her. He was close enough to the kitchen island and popped himself up to sit on the edge of it as she rolled her eyes playfully at him, knowing exactly where this was going. He spun round and got to his knees and eventually his feet, in the centre of the kitchen island, head now dangerously close to the ceiling as he dodged the lights that hung over the counter. He warbled the lyrics to ‘Last Christmas’ doing some form of step dig dance routine, his hands waving as Y/N looked up at him before he yelled, “game’s over, baby, can’t take it anymore this is me claiming my dance,” and he made grabby hands for hers as she held them up to him. 

He tried pulling her up, not thinking that he could probably pull her arms from their sockets, but Harry’s friends saw before he tried again and gave Y/N a boost up so she was stood on the counter with him as he wrapped his arms around her and began swaying them to the music, everyone clearly taken with them as they laughed at their hosts before joining in and screaming and dancing along to Wham! 

As everyone sung around them, Harry’s face buried into her neck, kissing at the mark he left earlier, “don’t make me play this game again, hated every minute, wanted to feel you close all night,” he said lowly into her ear as she fingers twirled the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Was never going t’make you wait all night, was struggling m’self, y’looked so fucking good making drinks and charming the pants off everyone,” she giggled, enjoying the heat that radiated from his body. 

“When can we kick everyone out? Want y’closer, preferably without clothes,” he smirked, fingers playing with the hem of her dress. 

“Reckon they’re here for a few hours yet, we’re just too good at hosting parties,” Y/N shrugged as Harry pouted. 

“Think we could slip away for a quickie?” he pleaded as Wham faded into the next song as their guests continued dancing as Y/N and Harry towered above them from their place slow dancing on the kitchen counter. 

“You’ve got a queue at your bar, so I don’t think so, but how about we go to the loo and have a little kiss and I’ll give you a flash to tide y’over?” Y/N laughed, clearly intoxicated to a similar degree as Harry as he nodded eagerly. 

He hopped down off the counter before gripping her hips and lifting her down before he whispered in her ear, “lead the way, but if you think there’s any chance of me stopping after a flash and kiss, you’re mistaken,” he nipped her earlobe between his teeth and sent her teetering forward with a swift slap to her bum. 

———

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[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.”

[dameronology]

thinking about Javi putting on a necklace for u 🥺and thinking about javi thinking about putting a necklace on u🥺bc it’s so delicate and gentle and he never sees himself that way but now he could get used to it 🥺help🥺

ok this wasn't meant to turn into a fic (or a mini fic??) but u sent me this. and it's all i could think about for days. just me, in self isolation, thinking about javier pena

warning: literally 3 words that allude to adult themes but it's like squint them and u'll miss but...just a warning <3

Neither you nor Javier Pena were entirely sure when your anniversary was.

Given that you had started as friends and not-so-inexplicably morphed into something more, it was hard for you to pin point exactly when you became a thing. It was as though one minute you were merely colleagues, then friends, then you rattled some desk drawers...and now you were living together. It was something that you (and also everyone and their mothers, for that matter) had never thought to be possible. He normally ran away from the idea of commitment and domesticity. It was just wasn't him.

But, with you it had come completely naturally. Javi hadn't spent a second of your relationship hesitating - he'd never had a reason to.

Still, you never expected him to think about anniversaries. You sure as hell didn't remember the specific date; heck, you didn't even know where to start. Was it the first time you kissed? The first time you slept together? How did people decide these things?

It didn't matter. It wasn't important - so you pushed the thought out of your head and carried on with your life.

That was until one particularly warm afternoon in the summer; you and Javi had been living together for six months by that point. The sun was hanging low in the sky, beating down on your back as you trudged from the car to your front door. It was pretty fucking suffocating outside, but inside was worst. You were seriously getting fed-up of Javi's refusal to turn on the air conditioning. Something about it being too noisy, or too expensive, or too-

You stopped in your tracks when you saw Javi sat on the sofa. He had a half empty bottle of scotch next to him - always a sure sign that he was nervous as shit.

"Hey, Jav," you greeted him. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," he cleared his throat.

You thinned your eyes. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm just...did you know that today is our one year anniversary?"

"Huh," you murmured. "That's cool. Well done to use for making it this far, I guess?"

Despite his eye roll, Javi stood up. He circled the coffee table for a minute, before brushing past you and placing his hands on your shoulders.

"Honestly, I didn't even know we were keeping track," you admitted. "I mean, if I wasn't, I assumed that you definitely weren't."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I have to remind you every year of your own dad's birthday," you shot back. "And our beginnings were so all over the place that I don't even know what day counts as our anniversary."

"We had our first kiss on Connie's birthday last year," he began. "That was when I realised I genuinely loved you."

"And it's Connie's birthday today, isn't it?" you replied, eyes flickering over to the calendar on the wall. Fuck. Had you sent a card? Not important.

"It is," he smiled slightly. "I, uh, I got you something."

"Javi," you murmured. "You really didn't have to."

"I did," he quickly shot back.

Pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, the DEA agent backed away from you and turned around. He opened one of the cabinet doors and pulled out a box. Thank fucking god it was the wrong size for a ring. Not that you didn't want to marry Javier, but you hadn't had that conversation. And given that he had run out on his first one? Sure, it had only happened once, but one was still...a lot. Given the magnitude of the event from which he was running, at least.

With slightly shaky hands, you took the box out his hands and opened it.

It was a necklace; a silver chain with a J hanging on it. Nothing too blingy or in your face - just subtle, but breath-taking.

"J," you murmured. "For Javi?"

"It can stand for whatever you want it to, querida, but that is what I had in mind," he replied.

You couldn't help but snort at his sarcasm, despite the situation.

"It's beautiful," you smiled. "I love it. I love you."

Placing on his hands on your shoulders again, Javi spun you around to look in the clumsily hung mirror. He might have been a brilliant marksman and intuitive agent, but his DIY skills were...let's just remember that he's really pretty, okay?

Taking the necklace out the box, he gently put it over your neck, closing the clasp. He let it fall against your chest, giving you a triumphant smile in the mirror.

It was moments like this that he fucking cherished. You made him feel loved - not like a man who spent most of his time chasing drug lords, or an agent who was far too familiar with the colour red. And these hands? The ones that so often clung onto the grip of a gun, white knuckled and shaking and just hoping and goddamn praying that he wouldn't have to pull the trigger.

Then there was you: you tangled your fingers in his, the very ones that had been responsible for more anguish than he could ever deal with. You kissed his scars and held him after long days.

When the world around him felt like it was burning, you were still there. You hadn't let the bloodshed or corruption shake you. You were good.

"You okay, Jav?" you quietly asked.

"Yeah," he softly smiled. "I love you. You know that, right?"

Your eyes met his in the mirror. "Yeah. I do."

[teiasviago]

Trying

Rated T | Alternate Universe | @today-in-fic

As I sense is becoming a theme, Jake and Amy from Brooklyn Nine-Nine are the inspiration for this MSR fic. This conversation was the catalyst; the scenes in this fic are taken heavily from B99’s “Trying” (7.06) and “Casecation” (6.12), as well as TXF’s “Per Manum” flashbacks. This fic is set in an alternate universe.

—

They’ve been trying for exactly nine months, now. Mulder knows this because Scully keeps detailed calendars marking the specifics of it all and on the fifth day of the month nine months ago, they agreed to start trying to have a baby.

He’s bouncing his leg, waiting for Scully to get back from the bathroom with the latest test result. He heard a flush a few minutes ago, so any second now... The door to their bathroom—one that has two sinks, a bath, and a shower because she insisted—opens with a creak.

Mulder watches as she stands completely still in the doorway, looking down at the stick. “It didn’t take, did it?” he inquires, but he already knows the answer.

Scully sniffles, her face starting to crumble, and he immediately makes his way over to her, bringing her into his embrace. She wraps her arms around him, burying her face in his chest as she tries to stop herself from crying.

“It feels like it’s too much to hope for, Mulder,” she says, clutching at him amidst her sea of tears.

“Hey, hey, it’s only been nine tries, honey. Sometimes—sometimes it takes a while. We knew that going in.” Mulder strokes the back of her head, pressing a kiss to the crown.

“Yeah, but... I feel like everyone else in my life has kids, and—and I—I can’t even get pregnant with one. What am I supposed to do with my life if I’m not a mother?”

“Oh, Scully, don’t say that. You’d still be my wife... You’d still be an award-winning neurosurgeon... Even if we don’t get pregnant the old-fashioned naked-pretzel way...” He trails off as she lets out a choked laugh. “...we can try IVF, or adoption. So you’re going to be a mother no matter what, Scully. It doesn’t define you as a person, either, whether or not we conceive. You’re amazing, all day every day.”

She sniffles again and leans away from Mulder, a tremulous smile on her lips. “I know. I just...really want this. I mean, I’ve spent my whole life knowing that I was going to have kids one day, and it’s just sort of hitting now that it’s been—”

“—nine months since we started trying,” he says with her. “And if it worked the first time, we would be nearly full term.”

Scully loses a battle and the tremulous little smile falls from her face as she nods and steps away to grab some tissues. “I can’t help but wonder if there’s something wrong with me, you know? Not—not physically, but... Is this some sort of punishment from God? Is he telling me that I’m not good enough to be a mother?” Another tear streaks down her cheek.

“Dana, look at me,” Mulder implores, cupping her cheeks and forcing her to look up at him. “You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re not being punished for any perceived sins, it’s just science.”

“Science,” she repeats, glancing between his eyes.

“Yes. Science. And science says that, since we’re both healthy thirty-somethings, we’re bound to get pregnant eventually.”

Scully nods and lets him enfold her in his arms again. “I don’t know if I want to keep trying,” she whispers, nuzzling her face further into his chest.

“What?”

“I can’t keep doing this, Mulder. Even if it’s not some sort of punishment and it’s just science, I...I can’t keep looking at the negative results on these tests.” She starts to cry again, muffling her sobs against Mulder’s shirt. “I just want a baby... Is that so much to ask for?”

“No... No, it’s not.”

—

One Year Ago.

“You must be the Mulders, Dana and Fox!” Mark greets, just as handsome as Ellen had described to Scully over the phone. “Welcome, welcome. Congratulations.” He leads them into the spacious living area in his and Ellen’s new house, where a handful of people are lounging. Mulder and Scully sit down on one of the couches and wave as Mark introduces them. “We heard that you’re newlyweds. Where’d you honeymoon?”

Scully, painfully aware of Mulder’s hand possessively resting on her hip, tells a little bit of their trip to his family’s beach house, the name of which she can never pronounce. She gets cut off when her godson rushes into the room and over to Mark, whispering into his step-father’s ear.

“Alright,” Mark says, before turning him around to face Mulder and Scully. “Go say hi to Dana and Fox and then ask Mommy in the kitchen.”

“Hi, Auntie Dana. Hi, Mr. Fox.” The young boy waves and bolts off to the kitchen.

“Ah, kids. Gotta love ‘em,” Mark sighs with a smile. “Are you two planning on having any of your own?”

“Uh, yeah,” Scully answers. “We’re gonna start trying soon. I’m so glad I’ve found the perfect person to make children with.”

She smiles bashfully at Mulder and a split second later, he reciprocates.

“Dinner’s ready!” Ellen calls from the kitchen, and everyone files into the dining room.

On the way there, he catches Scully by the wrist and pulls her aside. “What was that back there?” he hisses at her, leaning so close to her face that she’s sure his back is going to hurt later.

“What do you mean?” she asks, looking up at him incredulously.

“You just lied to Mark!”

“What!? No I didn’t! What the hell are you talking about?”

He tilts his head and raises his brows. “You don’t—? Scully, you told him that we’re going to try to get pregnant soon!”

“Of course I did! I told him the truth! Why are you acting like we didn’t decide this already!?”

“We didn’t!” Mulder hisses.

“What!? You don’t remember!? I showed you a picture of Matthew swimming in the Pacific on his birthday a few months ago and I said, ‘We should do this,’ and you said, ‘Definitely, I’ll set aside some money!’”

“I was talking about a trip to San Diego! You were talking about having a baby!?”

“Yes!”

“Oh my God.”

Scully groans softly and rubs her temples. “This isn’t the place. Let’s talk about this later.”

“Yeah...”

—

The drive home is tense and silent. Not a word is spoken until they shed their coats and sit down on Mulder’s transplanted leather couch. “You don’t want children,” Scully states, hands folded primly in her lap.

He sighs and rubs his hands over his face. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Well, I do. And I can’t just sit around and wait until you do know.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Scully. Am I getting in the way? Why don’t you just get up and leave if I’m of no use to you, then? God knows everyone else has.”

“Mulder—” she started, voice much softer.

“I’m sorry that I can’t give you what you want.”

“Mulder...”

“I’m sorry that I have no idea how to be a father.”

“Mulder, stop!” Scully insisted, looking distressed, and they finally made eye contact. “Is that what you’re worried about? Whether or not you’d be a good father?”

Mulder is silent for a moment before he sighs and nods. “Yeah,” he admits, averting his eyes.

“Oh, honey... You’d be a great father. I wouldn’t want to have kids with you if I thought otherwise.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Well, um... I don’t think having a baby is out of the question. I just...I don’t know if I’m ready, yet. It’s all so sudden, you know? Can we wait a few months? And then we can talk about trying. I—I need to get used to the idea of being a dad.”

“Yeah, of course.” Scully rubs his back with a small smile on her face, and it grows wider when Mulder turns his head to look at her.

“We can start looking at baby names, if you want. We’ll have to come up with something cooler than ‘Fox’, though.”

They both laugh at that, leaning into each other’s embraces.

—

Present Day.

“Scully, I think that we need to take a break from trying for a while,” Mulder says, getting situated behind her in bed. “Focus on ourselves, okay?” She nods. “Remember how we met?”

Scully smiles, entwining her fingers with his over her abdomen. “Yeah. You, the rugged child psychologist; me, the savvy pediatric neurosurgeon.”

“We argued our way through Christine’s treatment.” Mulder nuzzles the side of her face, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“That it did.”

They’re both silent for a while. “Mulder?”

“Yes?”

“I want...” Scully swallows heavily. “Can we have sex tonight? For us.”

He slides his hand lower, crowding his body against hers. “Of course.”

—

Ten Months Earlier.

His wife’s been short-tempered all day with him, only talking to him about their intersecting patient, Patrick. Mulder finally corners Scully in her office as she’s packing up.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, leaning against the door with his arms crossed.

“I’m fine,” she says sharply, and he sighs heavily.

“Are you really pulling that shit again? To me, of all people?”

Scully’s facing away from him, parsing through the filing cabinets behind her desk; she stops at his words, sliding the drawer shut before leaning her forehead against the metal storage unit. That’s when he hears her start to cry.

“Oh, Scully, honey... C’mere.” Mulder walks around her desk and wraps an arm around her, giving her a nudge to accept his embrace. She does, wrapping her arms around his neck as she starts sobbing in earnest. “Did something happen to one of your patients? What’s wrong?”

Scully shakes her head and continues to cry for a few minutes. When the tears have slowed down, she sniffs and pulls away to grab some tissues and blow her nose. “No. I mean, I’ve been handling a high-intensity patient all week, as you know, so there’s that. But I—” She has to stop and blow her nose again. She meets his gaze afterwards. “I think I might be pregnant. My period’s late—I was supposed to get it a week ago. And we agreed to wait a few months so I’m scared that if I am pregnant that you won’t be ready and that everything will go to shit and I love you too much for that and—”

Mulder cups her cheeks and runs the pads of his thumbs over her lips. “It’s okay,” he tells her, voice impossibly soft. “It’s okay.”

She sniffles. “Really?”

He smiles tremulously. “Really.” She sighs heavily and pulls him in for a long hug. “Come on, let’s go home. We can stop by a store and buy some tests. Whether or not you’re pregnant, we’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” she sighs.

—

The test comes back negative so Scully musters a smile and tosses the stick away as she walks to the kitchen. “What do you want for dinner?”

They don’t talk about it until they’re getting ready for bed and she won’t meet Mulder’s eyes.

“Scully?” he starts over the sound of her electric toothbrush.

“Hm.”

“Can I tell you something?”

She leans over and spits, turning off the toothbrush before wiping her face clean. “Of course,” Scully replies, placing the brush in its stand.

“I, uh...” Mulder fumbles, and she looks up at him. “I...I was a little bit—well, actually, a lot a bit—disappointed that the test came back negative.” He’s gazing at his wife’s flyaway baby hairs instead of her eyes.

“You were?”

“Yeah.”

Scully takes his hand and leads him to sit on the edge of the bed together. “Is it safe to assume you know that I was, too?”

He nods with a small laugh, entwining their fingers when it fades. “Do...do you want to start trying? I think I’m ready now.”

She lets out a soft gasp, her eyes filling with tears. “You mean it?”

“Yeah,” Mulder replies, voice impossibly soft. “I’m ready.” He brings his hand to her lips with a smile that lights up his eyes.

Scully lets out a tearful laugh before cupping his cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss.

—

Present Day, 5 Weeks Later.

Mulder jogs through the halls of the hospital until he finds Scully’s room number and bursts inside, breathless. “Scully, baby, what happened? You collapsed—you had a nosebleed? Are you alright?”

She nods, a smile on her face. Scully doesn’t look as sick as he’d feared, he notices, smoothing her hair back and tucking it behind her ears. “Does this have anything to do with how you’ve been feeling these past couple of weeks?” Mulder cautiously asks, sitting down in the chair behind him.

He moves it closer to her bedside as Scully’s smile turns into a grin. “I’m pregnant, Mulder.”

“Oh—my God, you are?” She nods. “You are! Oh, Scully...” He starts to cry as he gathers his wife into his arms as much as possible, and Scully does the same.

“We did it, Mulder,” she says, pressing a kiss to his head. “We did it.”

“Oh, I was so worried,” Mulder admits, sniffling as he lets her go and adjusts in the chair. “What did the doctors say?”

“Prenatal vitamins and a less strenuous workload. I have to drop my patient load from seven to five, and go from there. I’ll have to hand off a couple kids but I know just who to ask.”

“I’m glad.” Mulder clasps her hand and brings it to his lips. “I’m ready for this, Scully. Well, as ready as anyone can be.”

“Me, too, Mulder. Me, too.”

[unholyobsessions]

You’re here

Pairing: Reggie x GenderNeutral Reader (im almost sure tell me if i accidentally used she/her)

Description: You see Reggie again for the first time since your death (i suck at descriptions and I always will)

Warnings: Car crash, mentions of death, mentions of grief

Word Count: 938

A/N: This is my first JATP fic so it’s not that great but i will definitely be writing more for this fandom

The last thing you remember is the feeling of your head hitting hard against the window. You remember the yells of your parents and the horrible sound of your car making contact with another vehicle. You remember your last thought being Reggie’s kind smile and the fact that you’ll never get to see him again.

You’re not sure how long you’re gone, all you know is that it is definitely not 1995. You find a store with a calendar by the window and your eyes widen at the date written on it. July 5th 2010. Your eyes well up with tears, a sob stuck in your throat. You bite your hand to stop yourself from crying but the feeling of a random person passing through you breaks the dam. You’re dead and you have been for fifteen years. You close your eyes and wish to be as far away from Hollywood as possible. The floor vanishes from under you and a feeling of getting pulled rushes over your whole body. You open your eyes to find yourself somewhere completely different. You walk a short way and come across an empty field, you sit down and contemplate what your life (is life even the correct term to describe this?) has become.

. . .

“Do you guys think they’re here?” Reggie whispers to his best friends as they sit on top of the Orpheum. They fall silent and look at him with sad eyes. They all remember what happened when he got the call. He didn’t come out of his room for a week and could barely play. Your death hit him hard, the person who supported him through the band’s rocky journey to fame, the one he was going to marry was gone.

“I don’t know buddy,” Luke speaks up, placing a caring hand on Reggie’s shoulder. “But if they are, you’ll find them, life or death you two are like, meant to be.”

He reaches into his pocket and takes out a crumpled up picture of you smiling brightly at the camera while sitting behind Alex’s drum set. Reggie sends his friend a sad smile and allows for the first time in, apparently, twenty-five years to think of the love he lost so tragically.

. . .

You swing your legs that are hanging over the edge of the Orpheum stage. No matter where in the world you have gone in the last ten years, you for some reason always end up back in LA, more specifically the place where your boyfriend dreamed of playing. You hope they made it big. You never allow yourself to look him up, the idea that he moved on with his life without you being much too painful. You lay back and stare blankly at the ceiling blinking tears away, you always find yourself in tears when you think of Reggie. You hear someone come inside the room but assume it’s a lifer so you don’t move from your spot.  

“Why are they just laying there?” You hear a vaguely familiar voice say. Your eyes widen when you realize that whoever came inside was not a lifer, but they thought that you were.

“Existential crisis?” Another voice speaks. A voice you never thought you’d hear again. The voice of the person that you have missed so dearly. You sit up quicker than would be considered normal and make eye contact with three boys you loved dearly back in 1995, neither looking a day older than seventeen.

“Reggie?” You whisper. You don’t want to believe it. Not only is it too good too be true but if they’re all really here then that means they’re dead.

“Y/n.” Your boyfriend whispers back. There’s a moment of silence where nobody knows what to do. It’s a strange situation and it takes a full minute for your brain to process what’s happening. Tears fall down your face as you jump off the stage and run toward him, jumping into his awaiting arms. “You’re here.”

You separate yourself from him and look at the other boys before pulling them into a hug as well. It feels different, colder but still the same warmth you always felt around your favorite people. “You guys died.” You say, a matter of factly tone to your voice.  

“It’s a long story,” Alex waves it off, not wanting to get into the embarrassing details surrounding their death.

You turn back to Reggie and his hand reaches up to your cheek, wiping away stray tears. You lean into his hand like it’s second nature, still so accustomed to Reggie’s touch.  Your eyes flutter shut and the sniffle that leaves your nose contrasting with the soft smile on your face. “I missed you so much,” you choke out.

“I missed you too,” He confesses. You hear a faint pop and know that the other boys left to give you some privacy. “I thought I would never see you again, after they told me that you-“ he bites his lips as tears threaten to spill from his eyes. You hadn’t thought of that, he lived who knows how long with your death on his mind and an overwhelming desire to comfort him overcomes you.

You hold his face and press you lips against his for a long awaited kiss. He melts into your touch and wraps his arm around your waist, his other hand still cupping your cheek. He pulls away after a few seconds and leans his forehead against yours.

“I love you so much,” he says a wide smile on his lips.

You return the smile and reply, “And I love you.”

[novelconcepts]

fic: (your gift to me is just to be) bracing for the winds i always summon

She can’t always explain it.

There isn’t always a reason.

In fact, more often than not—these days, the days where time feels too fast for fairness, an unjust plodding onward that makes her feel as though her skin is stitched together all wrong—there is no reason at all for how she feels. No reason at all for how the world seems to press in tight around her, the sun too hot, the air too cold.

She can feel this kind of day coming like a storm--a sizzle on the air that builds over time, days piling up with progressively more aggression along the ridges of her spine, the pads of her fingers, the tension lining her jaw. When it all started, she would warn Jamie: I feel wrong. I feel like...like I can see her, out of the corner of my eye. Like she can see me, no matter where I hide. 

S’all right, Jamie always said, with that stable, easy method of taking Dani’s hand and leading her out of the shadows. It’ll pass, Poppins.

And for a while, she was right. Pass it did--often with the rising of the sun, or the arrival of some new distraction on the calendar. It would pass, and Dani would breathe freely again for a while. 

Except time plods on. Time stacks up. Time dissolves from the abstract into days, weeks, years, and suddenly, things aren’t quite so quiet inside her head anymore. Things aren’t it’ll pass, Poppins so much as we’ll face the next one together. Ride it out. One day at at time.

She’s truly not sure how she’d be handling it, without Jamie. She thinks sometimes of who that woman might be, what she might look like: at home with no home at all, bolting out of each town as soon as she finds a new one to take her in, weaving and dodging through the trees in an effort to find invisibility. Never letting anything land. Never letting anything in. What a life that would be, empty and hollow and terror-struck. 

Life with Jamie is none of those things. Life with Jamie is, she thinks, a kind of saving grace she never would have wished for. Never would have thought to expect, an unearned gift that sets tears in her eyes and strength in her breast. Life with Jamie is singular, because Jamie isn’t looking forward. Jamie is only looking at her. 

Give it to me, she urges. Give as much to me as you can. I can carry it for us both. 

Pretty words. Romantic ideals. Jamie, a quiet hero in dented armor, trying her best. Dani won’t ask that of her, not ever, can’t imagine a world where she would give Jamie even half of what she’s carrying. The very act of asking is enough to ensure that much. The very act of Jamie taking her hands, offering herself up, is enough to solidify the one oath Dani has been making at the start of every day for years. Jamie has taken more than enough. Jamie has carried things she can’t fathom. This? This thing she walked into herself, without asking Jamie’s opinion on the matter? This is Dani’s alone. 

She can’t give it up. No matter how tightly Jamie holds her, whispers against her hair that she doesn’t have to go it alone, she can’t. Some brands are meant only for her skin. Some ghosts are meant only for her bones. 

She can’t give it all to Jamie.

But some nights--storm nights, nights where her skin is too tight and the air is electric with the sense of a spiral she can’t stop--she can do something else. Jamie offers. Jamie offers with a smile, with a kiss, with soft hands and endless trust.

On these nights, the nights she can’t breathe for the binds around her wrists, her heart, her throat, Jamie offers a kind of return to balance. 

Dani can accept that much.

***

She doesn’t remember finding their way onto the floor. Most nights, moving with Jamie this way is an art--each step seamless, blended from one to the next as soft kisses become touches become undressing become rhythm. Most nights, they could pause anywhere in the process, and she’d know exactly how they got here. 

These nights, these specific nights, it’s like one great leap into whipping winds. One swift choice to close her eyes and let pure instinct take over. 

She’s asked Jamie, time and again, if she’s different--if Jamie can read it in her kiss, in her hands, in the desperate push-pull of her body--on these nights. Jamie, leaning back against the pillows with a cigarette between her fingers, looks her over, answers carefully. It’s like she can tell what Dani is deliberately not asking, what Dani is terrified to find out: that, one of these days, Jamie is going to look up at her and find a stranger grinning back. That, one of these days, the woman coaxing Jamie towards the edge will be someone else entirely. 

No, she says on these days. No, it’s not different. It’s just...more. 

But you know, Dani pushes. You know when it’s coming. When I'm going to have one of those...one of those nights where I--

Where you need a little extra? A smile. A gentle hand on her cheek, a thumb brushing her skin with such care, she has to close her eyes. Dani, I don’t mind. Really, I don’t. It’s right, no matter what kind of night we’re having. 

There’s more she doesn’t say, more she doesn’t need to put into words. That these nights are the ones where she feels Dani is the closest to letting her all the way in. That these are the ones where Dani edges up to the line. Almost, almost brings her beyond the border, into the trees, into the thicket where the eyes watching are hungriest. 

Dani won’t take her all the way. Dani won’t turn her deliberately toward the mirror, risking the wrath of whatever lays behind the glass. She won’t, not now, not even if it gets worse than she can imagine. 

But this--these nights--these days where the electricity builds and the thunder roars and she finds herself on the floor with Jamie writhing beneath her--these nights, she grants herself the space. These nights, wearing straps Jamie’s more comfortable getting into, sweat running down her back, hands clawing for Jamie’s hips. These nights are as close as it gets. 

Jamie is soft, her arms around Dani’s shoulders, her hands digging in as she muffles sounds of desperation into Dani’s neck. Jamie is soft, her throat bared for Dani’s mark, her eyes fluttering as Dani matches each hard swipe of tongue and sharp graze of teeth with a pump of her hips. Jamie is soft, and she is raw, and she is real, legs tight around Dani, pulling her deeper. She groans as Dani works a raised bruise into her shoulder, her hands gripping Dani’s hair, her voice a steady drum alongside Dani’s need. 

Dani doesn’t have space in her head for the demons, with Jamie under her like this. With Jamie looking at her as she did tonight, Jamie opening the box under the bed, saying softly, “D’you want me to--” She’d let the question linger on the air, both of them knowing Dani’s been flinching from reflections all week, both of them knowing Dani has spent days watching herself unravel as if from a great distance. Both knowing Dani, on nights like these, can’t lay back and let herself exhale.

Most times, the position is reversed: Jamie sliding into this harness, Jamie sliding between the sheets, Jamie positioning herself carefully and waiting for the signs that Dani is ready and willing and eager. Jamie, who is gentle, even when she’s not; Jamie, who is sweet, even when she’s hungry. 

Jamie, who does not require the same sweetness in return. Not on this sort of night.

They’d started on the couch, and she’d felt...tense. Tense, and a little nervous, in that way she gets whenever the storm boils over. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to-- She never says what she means, but she knows Jamie can hear it on her voice, anyway. The reticence to give her ghosts a shape. To give them any power at all. 

“It isn’t her,” Jamie assures her. Jamie, moving slowly on her lap, kissing her with such gentle patience. Jamie letting her head fall back with a sigh as she shifts and rolls her hips, hand wrapped around silicone, fingers wrapped around Dani’s. Together, she says with the pressure of her hand around Dani’s grip, gently guiding Dani in. “It’s only you. It’s only ever you.”

Dani wants to believe that. Wants to believe it so hard, she’s not sure there’s room in her for anything else. Jamie’s hands in her hair, cupping the back of her head, tipping her back until Jamie can meet her eyes, are certain. 

“Only you,” she repeats, with such calm, even as her knees are pushing against the couch cushions, her voice sharpening as she allows Dani to rub against her. She is warm and wet, open and inviting, and even as she’s spreading for Dani--even as she’s arching her back--even as she’s pressing herself down, her breath hitching as her body acclimates, she’s saying, “It’s all right. I promise, it’s all--”

It’s permission, and it’s desire, and it’s the moment Dani needs each time. No matter how bad it gets, no matter how hard the lightning strikes, she needs this from Jamie before she can really let herself sink. Before she can let her hands grip hard enough to bruise, her nails scratching sharp heat down Jamie’s back, dragging across her clavicle, digging into her hips until Jamie cries out. First, the permission. First, Jamie granting whatever she might need in the form of a long, deep kiss, the press of a palm against her racing heart.

And now, somehow, this: not fully conscious of how she’d wrapped an arm around Jamie’s waist, Jamie rocking slowly against her on the couch, and pushed them both down to the rug. Not fully conscious of how she’d leaned back, watched Jamie watch her with dark eyes, watched Jamie reach to guide her inside again. Not fully conscious of anything except how Jamie had felt, how Jamie had wrapped a hand around the slick addition between her own legs and pressed it into herself with a low sound of such want, Dani had felt her whole body shudder. 

Slow, she’d told herself, somewhere beneath the need, and she’d intended to follow through with Jamie’s usual brand of sweet care. There had been an image in her mind of skin on skin, of Jamie accepting this addition as though it were Dani herself, of the minutes melting away as they moved together. She’d intended--but Jamie had dug insistent fingers into her neck, Jamie saying her name like a plea, and she’d given over to the storm. Had given in to pushing deep into Jamie, to hard, rough thrusts that made Jamie repeat her name again, again, her voice rising.

She is all need now, wholly desperate to taste the salt of Jamie’s skin, to drive Jamie toward making those noises no one else hears. She is solid so long as she is here, painting stripes of heat along Jamie’s shoulder, her neck, her breasts with hard, sharp bites. She is solid so long as she is here, each thrust of her hips calling forth a cry. She is solid so long as she is here, filling Jamie, pushing Jamie higher, dragging from Jamie raw sounds of absolute pleasure even as she grasps Jamie at the small of her back and drags her close.

���There,” she hears Jamie pant, “there, don’t--don’t--”

She slows, deliberately easing back, deliberately meeting Jamie’s eyes. Jamie, whose breath is ragged, whose hair is disheveled, whose expression is glazed as she cranes her neck and bites her lip. 

“I--don’t stop--”

She presses a hand down on Jamie’s chest, grips tight to Jamie’s hip, holds her to the floor. She can feel Jamie pushing at her in return, tiny jerks as she strives for Dani to pick up the pace again. This is the hardest part. The part where she wrests control back, not from Jamie, but from herself. The part where, sliding almost entirely free, she leans back and just looks at her. 

Jamie, chest heaving against her hand. Jamie, thighs slick, body flushed, hands reaching. Jamie, who looks at her with arousal, with understanding, with love.

“It’s you,” Jamie breathes through hitching gasps. “Just you. I promise.”

Dani nods. Dani nods, presses a finger to the glistening mark just beneath the silver of Jamie’s chain, and reminds herself, I did that. I left that. She gripped at my hair and pulled until I bit harder, and she said my name, and it was me. 

“You,” Jamie repeats, reaching to cup her face. “Just you.”

Me, Dani thinks with dim certainty, and then she isn’t thinking anymore. Is only feeling the eagerness with which Jamie accepts her in, the desperate grip of Jamie’s hand clenching at the back of her neck as she stretches out atop her, as she rocks between her thighs with increasingly frantic force. She’s never felt particularly graceful, particularly one with her body, but with Jamie arching under her, Jamie urging her deeper with one leg wound tight around her hips, there is a steadiness she can rely upon. This part belongs not to the beast, not to the storm, but to her alone--to the woman who has been hanging on for dear life. 

She bows her head against Jamie’s shoulder, buries her face in Jamie’s neck, allowing herself to vanish inside the starburst shatter of Jamie’s pulse under her lips, the clench of Jamie around her, the insistent reminder of Jamie’s nails scratching down her own back. Jamie, shifting restlessly, letting Dani rock her entire body with the weight of each thrust. Jamie, heedless of her own volume, her desire as wordless as it is unapologetic. Jamie, giving herself over as Dani pushes her to the edge with relentless momentum.

“It’s you,” Jamie repeats, almost whimpering, her eyes rolling back. “It’s you, it’s always you.”

Dani wants to believe. Needs to know it’s the truth. Needs to trust that every time the storm breaks, every time she spreads Jamie beneath her like this on the floor, pushes her up against the wall, grinds against her in bed, that it is only her. Only her, and nothing else, nothing made of rage and fear and such a terrible loneliness, she can’t breathe around its grip. 

She reaches down, slides herself free, feels Jamie shudder and groan as she rolls aside. 

“Okay?” she asks when Jamie has been silent a long while, her breath evening, her hand groping for Dani’s. Jamie, eyes closed, makes a low sound in her throat. 

“Very.”

Dani turns her head, looks at her, liking the spill of her across the floor this way: naked and spent, sweat running down her neck, her expression blissful. “I got, uh...”

“What you needed,” Jamie finishes, and though those weren’t the words Dani had been looking for--carried away, had been her intent--she isn’t wrong. She smiles, aware of her own blush, aware of her own sheepishness creeping in as the storm abates at last. 

“I did. Yeah. Can you, uh, help me out of this thing?”

Jamie does, gladly, and Jamie kisses her, and Dani feels the world return to its natural state. Jamie, tossing toy and harness aside, bowing between spread legs to kiss her with slow, open strokes until her eyes close and her breath quickens. Jamie, letting a hand tease up her stomach, reaching for the fingers Dani offers. Jamie, licking her slowly clean, drawing forth hitching cries, rocking hips, a slow build to a different sort of release. 

They fall asleep on the floor, Jamie pulling a blanket over them both, and in the morning, Dani feels solid. There is a comfortable ache in her muscles, a less comfortable stiffness to her back. Jamie, shifting on top of her, lets out a low groan. 

“Getting too old for sleepovers on the goddamn floor.”

There is a comfortable silence to go with the comfortable ease of morning routine: Jamie brewing tea with a blanket draped around her shoulders, Dani taking a shower in peace. Her mind is quiet, save for the memory of Jamie grasping around her shoulders for purchase, Jamie groaning for more, Jamie’s back skidding hard against the living room rug. 

She’s going to feel that today, she thinks with idle amusement, and sure enough, Jamie’s shower is christened with a hiss of pain, hot water dragging hard across her back. 

“All right?” she calls through the curtain as she eases a brush through her hair. Jamie laughs. 

“Excellent. Never felt so alive.”

Alive is certainly the word for it--and if Jamie feels invigorated by the memory of last night, by the scorch of rugburn up her back and the throb of marks left on neck and chest and thigh, she isn’t alone. There’s something Dani can’t quite describe about watching Jamie shift into a shirt, breath easing past clenched teeth as the material drags across raw skin. Something about knowing every stain on Jamie’s skin was the result of the storm in Dani, and of Jamie urging her on, Jamie begging her to transfer some of that energy to her own body.

The world is on an even keel now, the air the right amount of warm, her skin fitting properly over her bones--and Jamie looks at her with surreptitious desire. Jamie, who leans back and stretches her arms above her head at the shop, catching Dani’s eye with an expression that says she likes the way the cloth pulls against reddened skin. Jamie, whose collar slips aside just enough to reveal a dark imprint of Dani’s teeth, who reaches up to brush a finger almost absently against that spot with her gaze heady on Dani’s face. 

Give it to me, Jamie always says. Give as much to me as you can. I’ll carry it. Dani can’t. Dani won’t give her what she’s asking for. Some kinds of sacrifice are nontransferable. 

But Dani gives her this. Dani gives her the fallout of each storm, and Dani watches the pleasure in Jamie’s smile the day after. Watches her close her eyes and sigh when Dani lays a hand at the small of her back and forces her shirt to rub against the memory of skin on rug, bumping hard against solid floor. Watches her groan softly when Dani locates the spot just above her waistband where she’d dug in her nails particularly hard, leaving behind small half-moon indentations. Watches her shift her eyes to Dani’s mouth when Dani smiles, both of them too aware of how Dani had bitten down as she’d rocked relentlessly deep, rough enough to make them both cry out. 

Dani gives her the fallout, when she can give nothing else, and Jamie takes it gladly. Jamie, who is sweet even when she is not, who is gentle even if her body offers something fierce and fast. Jamie, whose love is steady, but not stationary--who seems to expand with her as mirrors grow dangerous, as the heavy drift of another creature’s fury blankets Dani’s good sense. 

A day goes by, normal as any other--there are customers and there are conversations, and every so often, there is Dani remembering how good it feels to breathe. How good it feels to stand near Jamie and inhale the same air, to idle a hand near Jamie’s hip and feel Jamie straighten. To lean around Jamie, chest pressing fleetingly to Jamie’s back, and feel her lean eagerly, instinctively backward.

How good it feels to be her--and only her, nothing else tapping at the window or fiddling with the lock. Only her, with the innate, simple power to make Jamie smile with little more than a look. Only her, with the innate, simple power to make Jamie sigh with the briefest kiss. 

Only her, who--even without the reckless sweep of a storm beneath her skin--can take Jamie by the collar in the back room. Can press a thumb to the bloom of bruise on Jamie’s chest, the one which suffers every thump of Jamie’s necklace as she walks about her day. Can watch Jamie’s eyes grow dark with a storm of her own as she presses harder, a reminder of teeth on skin, a reminder of hips pushing deep. 

Jamie, who leans into the touch, eyes flickering shut, tongue tracing her lips. Jamie, who reaches for her in kind and says, “Best be quiet, then.”

And here, a different kind of control: the mutual need cresting between them, coming up hard against the awareness of an unlocked door, a bell that might ring at any moment. The mutual desire to stay here, right here, in a moment that threatens as all moments do to skid away from their joined hands. The mutual desire to taste and tease and feel as alive as two people ever can, Dani pressing into a pre-existing bite with gentle teeth until Jamie whimpers and closes her eyes and lets her head fall back. 

Here, in the aftermath of a storm, she feels whole again. Feels herself again. Feels as though there is nothing carried, nothing burdened, nothing too real to resist shuffling along beneath her skin. It is only a life made well, a life built with careful hands, a life of Jamie’s smile, Jamie’s skin, Jamie’s steady hands on the wheel. Jamie, with a thigh between her own, angling for friction to make her groan. Jamie, with a kiss on her throat that feels too sweet to be allowed. 

She reigns in her voice, allowing herself only muffled gasps, and knows Jamie’s back against the door is aching. Knows Jamie’s hip under her hand is branded with the prints of her fingers. Knows Jamie carries these badges of honor, these reminders of how real Dani is, of how far Dani will let herself spiral out if it means Jamie’s hand will catch her at the end of that rope. 

Storms are unavoidable, she thinks--they grow stronger with each passing year, less predictable, less easy to navigate. Storms come on hard and fast, and they require of her a willingness to lose control before they will move on again. A willingness to to grant to Jamie--who will always give the same right back--something of herself to remind them both she is here. 

The storms, she thinks, are as good as they are daunting. The storms, she thinks, mean she is still present enough to matter. They will not fade over time; they will, instead, grow more, grow harsh and wild and fierce, and she can only hope they will not sweep her away when they do. Can only hope Jamie’s hands on her skin, Jamie’s forehead pressed to her own, Jamie’s heartbeat crashing under her kiss, will be enough solid ground for them both to stand upon.

Give it to me, Jamie seems to whisper, as Dani slides a hand between them and sends her head falling back against the door. Give me as much as you can. I’ll--I’ll--

It isn’t yours to carry, Dani thinks, huffing sharp, skidding breaths down Jamie’s open collar. It isn’t, and it can’t be, and I won’t let it. But this. I can give you this. 

Together, moving as one, soft cries sunk into soft skin, they will wait for it to pass.There is nothing else. Only one day at at time. Only Jamie’s trust that the woman behind her eyes will never falter. Only Dani’s need to be more substantial than she is haunted. 

Jamie fists a hand into her hair, presses hard into searching fingers, and Dani closes her eyes. Lets it all build. Lets it all crest. A return to balance, the only way either of them know how to craft it. 

It can be--must be--will be--enough.

[mittensmorgul]

Happy Resurrection Day

A short fic in celebration of Dean and Cas’s 12th anniversary!

Rated: T Words: 3652

Summary: The world didn't end, and Dean and Cas finally get to choose each other. It only took twelve years and a little road trip back to where it all started.

Read it here on AO3

One random morning in mid-September, a few months after the world was left in their hands once and for all, Dean woke up to the nagging feeling he was forgetting something. There wasn’t really much to forget anymore. There was no looming apocalypse, no new catastrophe on the horizon. The biggest dilemma he’d faced in the last few days was whether he had enough milk to make pancakes, or whether he’d have to run out to the store before breakfast.

Sure, he and Cas took the occasional salt and burn. Easy hunts they could usually dust in a day. Sam had taken an extended road trip to see the country and try to figure out what he wanted to do with himself now that he was truly free to explore what life after Chuck could look like, but Dean already knew. He’d known for a good long time that he loved his life, loved the bunker, and loved hunting. And for whatever reason, Cas had just decided to stay, no strings attached. Whether Dean was itching to get out on the road for a long weekend on the slimmest excuse of a hunt that just as often as not turned into a detour to some tourist trap or other, or whether Dean just wanted to sit at home bingeing an old tv series or having a movie marathon, Cas seemed equally content with the slate of activities Dean conjured up for them.

He hadn’t put it into so many words, and he definitely hadn’t said it to Cas, but Dean also loved that Cas had stayed with him.

So it was strange waking up with an unsettled swirling in the pit of his stomach. He held a hand up to his forehead, checked his eyes and throat in the mirror to make sure he wasn’t coming down with something. He didn’t want to get Cas sick, if he was. He’d already survived Cas’s first cold as a human, just barely. They went through so much soup in a week, Dean was starting to wonder if Cas was just milking it for the room service. He had to admit that Cas letting him walk him through the highlights of Dr. Sexy while he was curled up in a blanket nest by his side wasn’t the worst thing he’d had to endure. But for now, Dean wasn’t sick. He just had a restlessness in his bones and no idea how to cure it.

He pulled on his robe and ambled out to the kitchen. Coffee would help him figure out what was eating at him, surely. Only Cas had beat him to it, which was unusual enough to amp up that uneasy feeling. Dean usually beat Cas to the kitchen most mornings, so walking in to a full pot of coffee and no other sign of Cas had him wondering if something was wrong. He poured himself a cup and set off in search of Cas, and whatever he was up to so early in the morning.

He found Cas sitting at the table in the library scrolling around on the internet. Dean just stood in the doorway and watched him for a moment, studying his posture as if it might give him some clue what sort of mood Cas was in. Human or not, Cas still had the intense focus he’d always had as an angel, and aside from pausing to take a sip of his coffee or navigate to the next page, he barely moved from his position hunched over the keyboard. Rather than startle him, Dean waited until Cas put his mug down before clearing his throat to announce his presence.

“Mornin’ sunshine. You’re up early.”

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, giving him a guilty glance before going back to his work. “Yes, I had been hoping to surprise you later, but I apparently didn’t wake up early enough for that. I hope you slept okay.”

Dean shrugged as he walked around the table and sat down across from Cas. He took a sip of his coffee before replying.

“Mostly. Woke up feeling restless, and I couldn’t figure out why.”

Cas nodded at him as if he understood exactly what Dean meant. “I did, as well. And then I checked the calendar. I assume you know what today is?”

Dean’s brow furrowed as he performed a few calculations. Days all sort of blended together after a while, but they’d made a trip up to Henderson for supplies on Wednesday, and that was only a couple days before.

“Friday?” Dean eventually replied, hoping he was right.

Cas laughed, but shook his head. “It is Friday, but it’s also September 18th.”

Dean blinked at him for a moment as he mentally rocketed back to a run down old gas station where the windows shattered the first time Cas had ever tried to introduce himself. He’d just clawed his way out of his own grave, and the local newspaper had helpfully supplied him the date, and the knowledge that he’d been in hell all of four months. No wonder he’d woken up feeling weird. He might’ve forgotten the date, but somewhere deep down, some part of him would always know it.

Dean came back to himself to find Cas waiting patiently for him, like he always did. He took another sip of his coffee and set the mug down, recalling what Cas had said before sending him off down disturbing memory lane. Better to focus on the present than linger in that particular bit of the past.

“So you were planning a surprise?”

Cas shrugged. “I thought maybe we should do something to celebrate. People celebrate these sorts of milestones, yes?”

Dean wobbled his head side to side and made a face. “Pretty sure Hallmark dosn’t make a card for this one.”

Cas frowned, reaching up to shut the laptop as if he’d made some terrible faux pas, but Dean quickly dropped his hand atop Cas’s to stop him.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate it anyway,” he said more quietly, smiling at Cas. “It was a pretty noteworthy occasion, you pulling me outta hell. What did you have in mind?”

Cas’s frown deepened. “That’s where I’ve been stuck all morning. It felt inappropriate to suggest going to visit your gravesite, and taking you out to dinner seems… trite, in light of the occasion.”

“You know me, Cas. I’m always up for food,” Dean replied, trying to lighten the mood. “Plus it wasn’t just about me being un-dead, you know. It’s the whole reason we met in the first place. And look how that turned out.”

Cas had finally begun to smile again, and turned his attention back to the computer. “We didn’t actually meet face to face until late the next night when you summoned me. There was a bit of a delay due to unforeseen circumstances.”

Dean thought about that for a minute, nodding as he remembered the events of his first few days back on earth. “Well, if you wanna do it right, we could always take a road trip back to that old barn, see if it’s still standing.”

“Have you been back there since then?” Cas asked, curious now.

Dean shook his head. “Driven by it a few times over the years, but never went back inside. The whole farm’s completely overgrown. I figured someone would’ve gotten freaked out by all the weird symbols and burned the place down by now. It was still standing as of a couple years ago.” That got Dean curious. “Have you been back?”

“It’s been a while,” Cas said quietly. “I used to fly there sometimes, when I still could. It was a quiet place to think.”

Dean nodded slowly. “Then that’s what we should do. We’re taking a road trip. I know at least three great diners between here and there I haven’t taken you to yet. We can make a whole weekend out of it.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Cas replied, finally shutting the computer.

“Good. Breakfast first, then we’ll head out. Have ourselves a little resurrection day road trip.”

Dean grabbed his mug and stood up. He’d need to get dressed and pack a bag. They could have a quick breakfast if they were gonna be stopping at Dana’s Diner for lunch. It was a bit of a detour, but the burgers were worth it. He flashed a grin at Cas.

“I’m gonna pack a bag and grab some cereal before we hit the road. Meet you in the kitchen in 20?”

Cas nodded and shut the laptop. As Dean made his way out to the hall, he heard Cas mutter quietly, “Happy Resurrection Day,” as if he was testing out the sentiment. He bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud.

The drive to Illinois took most of the day. It could’ve been a lot quicker, but in addition to Dana’s, they hit a steakhouse on the outskirts of Chicago for dinner before swinging back south toward their destination. Dean bypassed the Astoria Motel where a mirrored ceiling shattered by Cas’s angelic voice had once nearly killed him. He pointed it out as part of their trip down memory lane, but pulled up at a different motel clear across town with the excuse that it would be a shorter drive back to the barn in the morning. Their room was a lot less shabby, and a lot less pay-by-the-hour feeling than the Astoria, so Dean felt it was a win all around.

As they settled in for the night like they had every night they’d been on the road together, Dean let himself really feel the usual longing the three foot chasm between their beds brought out in him. Most nights he’d just roll over and pretend to fall asleep while mashing that feeling down as hard as he could. Tonight, though, he lay in bed staring across that gap, wishing he could make some excuse to crawl into the other bed. Of all nights, and in this particular place, he really just wanted someone to hug until dawn.

The specific someone being Cas.

In the dark, in the quiet listening to Cas’s breathing even out as he drifted off, for one moment Dean allowed himself to admit that he didn’t just love that Cas had stayed with him. He loved Cas. Full stop. Dean lay there until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, holding on to that feeling and knowing he’d have to crush it back down in the morning.

He dreamt of what could’ve happened in that barn, if he hadn’t stabbed Cas that first time they’d met. With twelve years of history between them now, and Dean’s quiet revelation that he was in love with Cas, his dream-self went through a series of alternate endings to that meeting ranging from love confessions to things that he would definitely not be enumerating to Cas over breakfast the next morning. It made for an excellent night’s slumber.

Morning came without the restlessness the previous day had. Dean opened his eyes to the dawn light seeping between the curtains to shine a golden spotlight on Cas’s face, which was smiling back at him.

“Hello, Dean. I take it you slept better last night?”

Dean yawned, but didn’t quite feel like getting up yet. He wanted to enjoy this surreal moment for just a bit longer. Instead he stretched out under the blankets and propped himself up on his pillow to get a better look at Cas.

“Yeah, you?”

Cas propped himself up on his elbow, no longer in the little beam of light, and blinked at him. “I’m reserving judgment until after we have coffee, but yes. It seems to have been satisfactory.” Cas frowned for a second, and Dean was about to ask what was wrong, when Cas asked, puzzled, “If yesterday was Resurrection Day, what does that make today?”

Dean must’ve still been a bit loopy from his late night thoughts, the restful sleep, and what he could recall of the dream he’d been having. He never would’ve blurted it out around a yawn otherwise, but that’s exactly what he did.

“It’s countdown to Cas day.”

He froze for a second after the words had escaped into the wild, and then slowly turned to take in the fond look on Cas’s face.

“I’m already here, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, you weren’t twelve years ago. I didn’t even know your name yet.”

“You do now,” Cas replied. “How should we celebrate it? Since I sincerely hope you weren’t dead set on a complete reenactment. I don’t have the power to rattle the roof or blow open the doors anymore.”

Dean grinned at that and sat up. “Yeah, I don’t really wanna shoot you, either.”

“I appreciate that,” Cas replied, sitting up on the edge of his own bed opposite Dean. He looked right into Dean’s eyes, as if attempting to convey some deeper meaning to his words, and spoke quietly. “I’m glad you finally believe in me.”

They sat there for a long moment before Dean finally nodded. “‘Course I believe in you, Cas.”

They took turns in the shower and packed up their bags. After a quick breakfast on the way to the farm, they drove down the overgrown dirt road that led to the barn. Dean had to leave the car a good way back down the road, and they hiked through the knee-high scrub to the broken old barn door. Dean picked up a shattered timber and tossed it out of the way as he pushed his way inside.

“Man, this place is a lot less intimidating looking in broad daylight,” he said, as the two of them stood in the doorway and took in the faded symbols Bobby had painted on every surface of the interior. Broken glass still littered the floor, now covered with a heavy layer of dust.

“It looks different now, somehow,” Cas added. “Smaller. Which is strange considering I was so much larger the first time I was here.”

Dean turned to him and smiled. “Yeah, but now you’re seeing it human. It’s gotta be weird.”

Cas shrugged, and walked around the perimeter of the barn, examining the sigils out of old habit. “This has always been a quiet place for me,” he said, touching a warding sigil with his fingertips before continuing on. “Nothing unholy could find me here. I could be alone with my thoughts.”

Dean noticed a few of the sigils Cas stopped by, and didn’t recognize them. A collection of carefully drawn wards drawn much smaller and in a different shade of paint that stood out from all the rest he’d watched Bobby create twelve years ago.

“Did you add those?” he asked.

Cas nodded. “Angel proofing. Or at least, concealing.”

Dean thought back to all the times Cas had been running or hiding from Heaven and the rest of the angels. When he’d been human and had nowhere to go, and instead of coming here he’d run in the opposite direction, because Dean had kicked him out. A bolt of guilt shot through him and nailed his feet to the floor. This was a place Dean hadn’t come back to because it reminded him that he’d been to Hell, reminded him that Heaven had wanted him for their own for reasons that frankly horrified him now. But for Cas, this was the place Dean had first met him, a place that for him would forever be about the moment he was truly introduced to humanity. It had been kind of a shit introduction, if Dean was honest with himself. But twelve years later, after all the shit had played itself out, Cas had finally made his own choice about his life, and he’d come back to where it all began.

“Happy resurrection day,” Dean said as he stared at Cas from across the room.

Cas turned to him, the look of surprise on his face quickly turning to a smile. “It is a bit like a resurrection, isn’t it? We’ve come all the way back around to where it started, and we’re free of it all now.”

Dean just nodded dumbly, letting the enormity of it sink in as Cas walked over to stand in front of him.

“I don’t have wings or the power of Heaven at my back, but I do recall something I said to you that night. Good things do happen, Dean. And they have.”

“And here we are again,” Dean said, clearing his throat. Both of their lives had changed that night, and they’d spent so much of their time fighting against everything in the universe since then. The one constant had always been each other, even when they’d totally fucked it all up and broken the natural order and sacrificed themselves to fix it all again, they’d done it to save each other. At the end of the road, and the beginning of their journey, Dean couldn’t keep his feelings bottled up any longer. “I love you, you know.”

Cas sucked in a shocked breath of air and blinked at him for a moment, before a grin broke across his face, lighting up the gloomy, dusty haze in the barn. “I love you too, Dean. I’m so glad I’m here with you.”

Dean shook his head, finally prying his feet free to shuffle closer to Cas. He reached out a hand to rest it on Cas’s shoulder, right at the base of his neck. “No, I mean, I love you. I think I always have, and I know I always will, but I only really just figured it out. I’m in love with you and you’ve put me back together in ways you can’t even imagine. You might’ve resurrected me and healed me more times than I can count, but you helped make me a whole person, Cas. And I love you.”

Dean felt the prickling of tears behind his eyes and struggled to hold them back. Like he always did, Cas stared into him, right through him, and lifted a hand to Dean’s cheek.

“I’d hoped it was obvious when I chose humanity, when I chose to stay with you, that I felt the same way for you, Dean. I didn’t have any idea how much knowing you would change me, how much you would teach me about humanity and what makes life worth living when I first walked through those doors. One thing I did know, though, was that I already loved you. I had no idea what that even meant yet, but I would learn.”

A slightly manic laugh escaped Dean’s lips at the euphoria of hearing Cas’s words, seeing the heartbreaking honesty in his face, and wondering how long it was polite to wait before kissing him. Cas gave him a relieved smile, as if he’d been holding it all in far too long, and Dean let out a sigh as he pulled Cas to him.

“Love at first stab, huh?” Dean asked, smiling right into Cas’s face.

“Don’t belittle it, Dean. I loved you even before then. The moment I laid a hand on you in Hell. Healing your soul and reuniting it with your body, resting you gently in your grave and waiting for you to emerge again.”

“You do know how fucked up that was, right? You couldn’t have just dug me out?”

Cas’s brow furrowed. “It was Heaven’s orders. I never thought to question them. But yes, it has bothered me many times over the years.”

“Yeah, well, it’s bothered me more than once that I tried to thank you for saving me from Hell by stabbing you in the heart.”

“It worked, though,” Cas replied, one eyebrow raised. “I’m still here with you.”

“Better than cupid’s arrow,” Dean muttered, and then grimaced at his own terrible reference. It amused Cas, though. “Okay, enough awful jokes. Are you gonna kiss me already?”

Cas made a considering face, as if he hadn’t already made up his mind. “Happy resurrection day to both of us, then. I suppose we know exactly how to celebrate it now.”

Dean took that as the invitation it was, and leaned in for a kiss. Their lips met tentatively at first, and then more confidently as they clung to one another in the gloom. The exploding lights were all internal this time, but no less spectacular. Dean shuffled his feet and heard the crunching of broken glass, and reluctantly pulled back from Cas.

“We should probably find someplace less dangerous if we’re gonna keep going…”

Cas nodded his regretful agreement. With one last look around the old barn, they pulled the doors shut.

“We can come back next year, if you want,” Dean said, taking Cas’s hand and leading him back to the car. “Make it an annual thing.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Cas replied. “The annual resurrection road trip.”

“Next year we bring a broom,” Dean added, leading Cas through the weeds. “Maybe a picnic.”

Cas laughed, letting his hand go when they reached the car.

“So what do you wanna do next?” Dean asked as he climbed back behind the wheel. “We still technically got the rest of the day to celebrate.”

“You mentioned several diners you wanted to introduce me to, and it’s nearly time for lunch,” Cas replied.

Dean thought over their options, then leaned across the front seat to plant a kiss on the corner of Cas’s mouth, just because he could. The look of surprised delight on Cas’s face was more than worth it. “How much of a detour are you up for?”

Cas gave him a look of mock pity. “Dean, I’ll go anywhere with you. No detour is too long if I have you to share the journey with.”

Dean gave him a proper kiss, with a promise of more for later. “Then let’s get this show on the road.”

[whatitis-inside]

I was scrolling through my google docs trying to find a specific thing and woahhhhhh 

I have so many weird shit written there, like fics/fics ideas 

There’s even one take for on epistolary-style fic that has like 10 pages, fully written - and I’ve totally forgot about that lol 

There’s also clippings like:

-  When Armie thinks of how it all began, he can’t really pinpoint the exact moment. It was just innocuous fucking between two buddies. Well until it wasn’t that is.

And this:

After taking care of his mom for four years now, being her assistant, nurse, driver, helper, Tim is lost in the new world he found himself in. It’s not only that he has so much free time, that he has no idea what to do with it. Because suddenly his calendar isn’t filled with hospital visits, cooking meals with a precise number of calories, beseechingly saying ‘eat some more’. And, it’s not only that he is still grieving. Uncertain, because the reality still hasn’t sunk in. Because, halfway through the night, he still expects to hear some clattering. Almost getting up before realising it’s all in his head. It’s not only that he is 24 and he can’t really connect with people his age. Parties, alcohol, sex. It’s all new and bizarre to him, and he feels out of place. Like an incongruous daisy in the red tulip field. 

But above all, he feels physically and emotionally dead. A wrung-out sponge. Twisted so many times it doesn’t even resemble one.

Also

-  Being in love with your roommate … well it sucks. But being in love with your roommate that also happens to be your best friends sucks even more. Albeit, life in general sucks. Or perhaps Armie’s life is full of shitty opportunities.

And:

You get on with your life. You just live uncaring about things happening around you. Not giving attention that anything that happens changes you. Willingly or not. Minute changes you aren’t aware of. Or bigger ones you realize after some time has passed. 

And then somehow, without realizing it, you find yourself at crossroads. With no idea which turns you should take. So you drag slowly towards that point, like a laggard, trying to hold off the inevitable. 

We just fell apart. It’s that simple. We were barrelling towards a devastating end without any thoughts of stilling. Of stopping and waiting. We crashed. And then it was over. No one ever told me the lights of reality are harsh and brutal. 

For the first few weeks, I was finding my hands hovering over the phone. Fingertips grazing over his number. Just in time remembering we are not ‘it’ anymore. I was unable to find my place. I couldn’t settle as if having some itch I had to persistently scratch to soothe it. But in return, it only got worse. I’ve isolated myself. Not wanting anyone around. Even my own presence was too much of a burden. A heavyweight gravity was pulling down. I was sleeping. Wondering around the place. Then sleeping some more. Killing hours in the only state I was able to exist. 

OR THIS:

Armie is a routine kind of a guy. He wakes up at 7.30 sharp, goes on a run. At 8:15 to the dot, he eats his breakfast - which is basically a high protein smoothie. Has a shower and heads to work. He is at work from 9 till 5 pm. He had dinner at 6, watches exactly one episode of tv series while eating, and does some strength workouts for about 30 to 45 minutes. He stretches and reads a book for exactly 45 minutes each day before falling asleep.

“What do you do?” Tim asks, curious, agog. 

“Just working in a company” Armie responds flatly. Timmy hums. 

Armie hates that sound. He knows his job isn’t challenging. That he is just ‘do this, do that’ in the firm. He knows it means he is not successful. He hates that thought. He hates Tim will think of him like that.

A failure.

He stops his thoughts. Remembers the talk he had with his therapist. ‘Your job doesn’t have to be challenging Armie’ he had said when Armie, frustrated and irritated, explained how his former partner found him boring. ‘Work is work. Your job doesn’t have to be your hobby. You don’t have to enjoy it. It can be just a thing to earn money. 

Armie tries to recall how he phrased it. ‘A means to an end’. 

“Armie?” Tim waves his hand across Armie’s face. A bit of concern around his furrowed brows. The gentle smile still there. Reassuring somehow.  ***

“We don’t have to,” Tim says. They are both naked on the bed, but Armie's erection is flagging rapidly. He wants to cover himself with the sheet. Hide behind it. 

“It’s just …” he tries but fails at finding appropriate words. His throat is constricted. He doesn’t know how to explain to Tim he has never done it. Or at least not all the way through, and that it feels sinister, even when his consciousness knows it’s not. All thanks to his mother. 

“I never … “

Tim looks at him intently, Armie can’t hold his gaze. Locking his eyes firmly on the mattress. Discovering the little hole in the sheets. Focusing on it for a few breaths.

“The butt stuff”

“The butt stuff?” Tim asks befuddled, unperturbed they are having this conversation while both naked. Perhaps not even aware of his own nakedness.

Now I only need to decide what to do with all of this shit

[fiction-in-my-blood]

Holiday Spirit (ObeyMe! Fic)

I’m feeling in a christmasy mood for the first time in, well, years, and feel like we all need a bit of chaotic joy at the moment ^.^  (I may have had a few, maybe more than a few, whiskey and cokes so this may not be as good as I think it is haha (￣▽￣)" )

Warnings: None, this is just some brother fluff/existence fic.

~~~~~~

It was hard to tell the changing in seasons in Devildom, mainly because there were no seasons, but the flakes of ash that fell from the sky every now and again gave MC an idea of what time of year it was. In recent years, it hadn’t even snowed where they lived on Earth, so this was the next best thing. But, even as that specific spirit blossomed within them, no one in Devildom seemed to take notice of the calendar, even if it wasn’t the same as MC was used to. 

Luckily, however, MC still had their music thanks to their trusty DDD. Whether they were getting ready for school, doing their chores in the kitchen, or wondering the streets with one of the demon brothers, cheerful- and some a little depressing- tunes were playing through headphones or speakers. The brothers didn’t take much notice of it, their human was already a little... weird, but they were their human and they didn’t actually know how regular humans acted. Solomon wasn’t much of an example, he was as devilish as any of them at some points.

But, it was when MC started putting up strange ropes of sparkling rags and paper chains in the hallways did they started to really wonder if everything was okay. It was too late before they realised all the white and red trinkets that started to litter surfaces in the living room and dining hall. 

“Hey, MC, whatcha up to?” Mammon approached accusingly, frowning his brows at his human, stood on the tallest ladder the House of Lamentation’s attic had. Slightly spooked by the sudden announcement, seeing as their ears had been plugged by headphones once again, MC almost toppled right off. Well, by almost, I mean they did. Fortunately, Beel had been observing the affair from a different angle. 

“Oh! Thanks, Beel! I didn’t want to be in a cast for Christmas!” 

The second that word, or, more precisely, the first half of that word, was uttered, the surrounding demons froze up, sending MC tumbling to the floor as even Beelzebub jumped. Groaning, rubbing their bruised butt and looking up at the duo of curious demons, MC couldn’t understand why they would react in such away. It didn’t take long for Mammon to provide them with an answer. 

“MC! Are you stupid? You can’t say that word here! Diavolo will hear you!!” Mammon, almost three metres from where he had last been seen, yelled loud enough for any other avatars to come investigating. 

“What’s going on here?” Asmodeus wiggled his brows at MC, now on their knees in an attempt to stand back up, and Beel hurrying to help them back up after dropping them. 

“They said the word!” Mammon whispered, pointing an accusing finger as MC quietly thanked the mass of muscle and kindness. 

“What word?” Asmo pulled a confused, and slightly exhausted, expression as he followed Mammon’s gesture. 

“I just said Christmas and they both f-.” MC couldn’t even finish their sentence before Asmo was clapping his hand over their face.

“Love, I wouldn’t say that! Diavolo wouldn’t exactly take kindly to it.” Asmo, shockingly, looked stressed by the phrase as he ensured MC ould keep their mouth shut before he let them go.

“I don’t see how Chri-.” 

“Oh I’d love to see how this turns out.” A new voice spoke up from behind the quartet, everyone turning to see Satan with a mirthful smirk on his face, hand on his hip as his one shulder held up his jacket. He had one book in hand, surely something about the latest potion MC had told him about. This one was from Earth, nothing magical to it but the taste. It was eggnog, and Satan was sure he had heard the term before from many years ago, sure he could make the best concoction MC had ever tasted. He was holding a recipe book.

“Satan, would you please explain to them was Chris-.” And with that, MC finally understood why they were prohibited from saying that one word. 

“OoOOhhhhHHhh, you think I’m saying Christ.” Everyone, excluding MC and Satan, went into a frenzy at their true pronunciation of the name. It didn’t calm down until a booming voice instructed everyone to stop.

Turning around, the five in the hallway turned to see two very tall, and one a little shorter, statues of men. Lucifer, Diavolo, and Barbatos at his side. 

“What is the meaning of this racket?” Lucifer sneered, trying his best to kee his composure in front of the prince. Mammon was visibly sweating, Beelzebub so very hungry from the sudden franticness of the situation, and Asmo trying his very best not to seem affected by the word. He didn’t like losing his cool, but this was a situation he did not expect to find himself in. MC, their MC, saying that name- in their house?! He never imagined it. 

“Ah, MC, I see you standing putting up your decorations! Doesn’t the place look cheery.” Diavolo smiled up at the piece of tinsel hanging from the rafters, one end swinging back and forth, waiting to be taped up. “Barbatos, you should help them. We can’t have MC falling and hurting themself.” 

“Wait! You let this happen?!” Mammon awed at the nerve of the prince, looking up at what must be some sort of religious hanging. He didn’t really remember what humans did for God, but he was sure this must be new. 

“Why not? MC explained to me the holiday doesn’t mean the same thing for all humans, some don’t even associate it with Christ, so what’s the harm?” Although his tone faltered on the certain word, Diavolo seemed as happy as ever to accomodate the human’s traditions. It may have been because Christmas was usually celebrated for Christ’s death, but lets just let that slide for now...

With that, MC had a lot of explaining to do. At first, they used the time to rope the brothers into helping them put up the decorations. With a lot more hands, and on Beelzebub’s shoulders, the halls of the dorm were decked much quicker than they would have if MC had tried on their own. 

“So... You use Chr-... Ma-... The holiday to connect with your friends and family?” Mammon, not being able to say any part of the word without a shiver running up his back, trully tried to understand the meaning behind Christmas.

“That’s what it used to be about. Although, in recent years it mainly been about being with my friends. I don’t have a lot of family to celebrate with nowadays. But, for others, its mainly about presents and food. Oh, and not to mention the songs.” Not wanting to dampen the mood with their everyday life, MC started to list off all the joys of Christmas they remembered. Their mouth started to water at the memories of roast dinners and yorkshire puddings. The familiar popping of Christmas crackers echoed somewhere in the background of chattering as the brothers discussed their favourite parts of what the holiday sounds like. MC laughed remembering the static those flimsy paper hats would cause with your hair, making it stand up like a crazed scientist. 

“Oh, and snow’s the best part. My friends and I used to go to a hill near our home and sledge down it. I almost broke my arm once when I crashed into a tree!” Nothing could help the cute giggle that left MC’s mouth as they remembered those fond times. 

“Yeah yeah, enough about the cold, tell me more about these presents.” Mammon pushed through, cutting off one of the brothers, he didn’t take note who, who was about to ask for more stories of MC’s past. This didn’t put him in a very good light in any of the men’s eyes. MC merely laughed, a lighthearted affair that quickly turned everyone’s attention back to them.

“When you’re a kid, you usually make a list to send to Santa, but he’ll only give you want if you’re good. If not, you get coal. Or Krampus.” It was MC who shivered at the name this time, nightmare horro stories their mother used to tell them as a kid imprinting a fear in them that would last a life time. 

“Kr-Krampus?” Levi, who had joined the group as they passed his room mid decorating, stuttered out in anticipation. He knew about christmas was anime, but nothing about a scary version of Santa. 

“Legend has it, he kidnaps or punished naughty children by stuffing them in his sack, taking them to his lair, and eating them. Sure got me to behave when I was a kid.” MC laughed, although the nightmares they had were as real as the demons in front of them were.

“Anyway, come on, I’ll show you guys how to make Christmas cake!” MC jumped, wanting everyone to learn the joys of Christmas they had waited so many years to enjoy again. 

“Now?? But you said its two months away??” Satan awed at the odd timing, looking down at thenotes he had jotted down in his recipe book. Not that he let anyone else see them.

“You have to let the brandy ferment to get the best taste! Come on, I’m gonna need the help!” And with that, the student council, with a sleeping Belphegor slung over Beelzebub’s shoulder, headed to the kitchen.

[ancientechos]

Hallow’s Eve

Emet-Selch/Arianna ♡ 3281 words ♡ eldritch au [modern au]

Did I...write even more...for eldritch AU...? Yes, yes I did. Proper fic coming...who knows when. My superpower is to write a lot about nothing.

Random little Halloween-themed fic! And another example of how I cannot do titles.

Has an appearance from @windup-dragoon Kiri and Hien.

Despite herself she --

Admittedly, very often, wonders if she’s too boring for her...very strange and impromptu roommate. Lover...? She supposes they are technically thus, at this point...

Though that is besides the, well, point.

It’s not as if they’re always home, though she admits they are...more often than not. Thus Arianna has taken to worrying she’s exceptionally dull to the eldritch creature...he’s simply too polite to say it.

(There is, of course, inherently something wrong with this assumption, but alas.)

“H-have you ever been to a party...?” The second the question finishes making its way past her lips, she regrets it -- it’s banal, not specific enough, absurd. Her suspicions are confirmed as Hades fixes her with a quiet, unimpressed stare. He plucks a grape from the fruit bowl before answering.

“Depends what sort of party, I suppose.”

Absentmindedly, she wonders what sort of “parties” he might have been privy to in the past...the only thing her mind can conjure is strangely fantastical images of odd creatures, one less humanoid than the next, eerie music --

She has to stop her mind from running off into the imaginary. Perhaps she’ll ask him later.

“Um -- w-what I mean is -- a -- ” The woman finds herself growing ever more anxious when she realises she doesn’t -- really -- have any point of comparison for what she wants to ask. For a moment, she fidgets her fingers together, then brushes a hand through a few strands of her hair. Her green gaze glances from her companion, still leaning casually against her kitchen counter, to the calendar on the wall in the hopes it might give her answers.

Unfortunately, it does not.

Somewhat blessedly, he does not interrupt her nervous fumblings as she struggles for words.This does not, however, stop her mind from being dangerously on the edge of wondering just how exasperated he must be --

“A-a p-party...?” Almost desperate to say anything at all, she blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Yes?” She can practically see one of his eyebrows quirk without actually looking at him. “You mentioned a party already. I asked what kind.”

Never mind that the question had been decidedly implicit.

He sounds far more patient than she ever deserves, and she presses her palms to her face, hard enough that colours dance behind her eyelids. “Ah...” Why is she getting so worked up about this, in any case...?

“There’s nothing to be upset about.” Hades’ voice cuts through the fog and white noise threatening to overcome her. “We have all the time in the world. no?”

-- He’s completely right. She truly has not an inkling of an idea as to why this has made her so on edge. Is it the subject matter itself?

“Unless there was a party happening within the hour...”

“N-no, that’s not -- ” She’s responded before she can fully realise, with the wryness of his tone, that he’s being sarcastic. Of course she wouldn’t have asked him about something like this on such short notice. Slowly, she lets out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, her shoulders lowering from where they’d nearly surpassed the tips of her ears. What she wants to ask...

“What I mean is...a c-costume party...” She trails off as she pulls her thoughts together. “Some people...like to d-dress up as...strange creatures, o-or book characters...for parties. A-at this time of year.”

Not that she’s ever really gone to one. Twining a strand of curled hair about her right index finger, she finally turns to look at him curiously. Already, she can feel the strange, harsh energy from earlier dissipating simply from being able to speak properly.

“Mm. I suppose I’ve been to one of those before. Though not really any in the mortal realm, of course...” There’s a pause as he regards her. “I suppose that means there would be a great deal of people there...and you wanted to go regardless?”

She has to bite her lip before she can mumble a reflexive no. “I-I just thought...perhaps...you would be interested...”

“Hmm.” The sigh he exhales almost has her thinking he wants to reject her offer. But -- “You said people like to dress up? Maybe I could go as my true form...or something close to it.” There’s an almost malicious smirk that curls his lip, his head tilting slightly to the side. Arianna tries to ignore the way her heart thunders treacherously in her chest and absently prays the lighting is too dark to notice her nonsensical blush.

“I-I don’t think it would be a good idea to go in your...ah...o-other form...” She pauses, teeth sinking into her lower lip. “Wouldn’t you simply scare everyone away...?” She doesn’t need to be told twice to remember that...incident from before.

“That’s the point, is it not? You could enjoy yourself.”

She is not quite sure whether she’s meant to be touched or concerned, and thus settles for wavering uncertainly between the two.

“W-well, regardless...” She exhales nervously. “I think...if you wanted to go, it might be...best to go in...ah, c-costumes...?”

“Oh?” The smirk hasn’t faded for even a moment. “And what do you propose we’d go as?”

The we has her heart fluttering stupidly again, for no reason, as she brushes her fingers through her hair once more. “Um...that...” Blinking and shaking her head to try to clear it, she regards him with what is meant to be a critical eye, but simply gets caught up in his gaze again. “Ah...”

-- Now that she isn’t an anxiously flustered mess, he seems perfectly content with simply flustering her further. Pushing himself away from the counter, he approaches her to smirk fondly down at her. When she simply proves all the more wordless, he brushes a finger gently along her cheek.

“How about an angel and a demon?”

To say she would have expected a suggestion from him would be a lie...not to mention...the suggestion itself...? It’s enough to have her blinking up at him blankly, her nervousness for the moment forgotten.

“I-I suppose...but...h-how do you know what an angel looks like, anyway...?” Curiously, she eyes him. She can’t imagine he’s ever done much...mortal reading. Or maybe he has? Well, she isn’t home -- or even awake -- the entire time. She supposes it’s perfectly possible and within his abilities for him to have picked up any of the numerous books she has, or to even have perused the titles elsewhere. But something so specific as an angel and a demon? It’s an odd thing to think about...

“Hmm? Oh, that’s easy.” There’s a smirk on his lips as he casually slings an arm about her shoulders, leaning in close. Somehow, she manages not to turn away despite the blush threatening to overtake her yet again. “There’s one right in front of me, isn’t there?”

It takes a moment for the words to process, and even longer for the precise meaning to dawn upon her. But when they do --

She wouldn’t be surprised if the heat that radiates from her face could run a generator.

“Y-you -- !” she stammers uselessly, turning away from him and smacking a hand to her face. Her fingers feel cold. Though she attempts to pull from him entirely, he holds her fast against him, amused.

“Yes? What about me?”

She ducks underneath his arm to avoid answering him, rubbing her palms against her cheeks as if she could simply push the sensation out of them.

“Am I to take it that you agree with my idea, then?”

“N-no -- ! Definitely not!”

________

Well -- that was what she had said...

But clearly her conviction had not been strong enough, given her current...predicament.

It had taken a concerning amount of time to find an angel costume that simply...wasn’t too short, but finally she’d managed to find one with a skirt that went at the very least past her knees, while Hades had loitered about the rest of the costumes shop, occasionally remarking this or that or giving extraordinarily unhelpful advice.

“What about this one?”

He, of course, goes ignored.

The house they’re standing in front of now seems tall and imposing, though doubtless only to her. Various decorations and a myriad of lights are strung up about it. The owners had had no qualms to spare coin for making the place fit for Halloween. There’s even a fog machine, judging by the mist blowing across the front yard and obscuring the door.

She’s already not very enthused about entering. Alas, the same cannot be said for her companion.

Whilst Arianna is dressed mainly in white -- with gold accents and, of all things, gold glitter littering the skirt portion of her dress -- and a black headband to allow her halo to blend with her hair, her date (?) wears a mainly black suit with dark red horns. She can’t see his headband from this angle, which leads her to believe he must have simply...willed the outfit into existence, or something. She can’t remember him throwing any such thing into her cart, either.

-- She supposes he looks nice.

Apparently sensing whatever discomfort she exudes, Hades’ grip upon her hand tightens slightly, and he draws her closer to him.

“You are aware we don’t have to go, yes?”

“I am, but -- I thought...you might want to go, so...”

Certainly, as he’s fond of reminding her over their telepathic link, there’s no especial reason they need to be going. They could just as easily turn and go home...and yet she can’t shake off the feeling that she isn’t giving him enough of what he deserves. Surely he would like for more than to simply lounge about her apartment, or...whatever it is he does when she’s away.

And perhaps a part of her is curious if she truly can do this.

Arianna allows him to lead her past the gate, up into the odourless pale fog that masks the door, and then through it. The closer they get to the doorway, the more loudly the music reverberates against her ears. Ah -- her least favourite sort of “party”, then...

Not that she’s really been to many --

Inside are all sorts of people, most dressed in costumes with a few occasional individuals apparently left out, or simply not wishing to invest the time in their get up. There’s clearly food and drink available further within, and the decorations from without continue on in inside the house. Fake cobwebs with tiny plastic spiders, glowing pumpkins and skulls...and a bit of the fog from outside.

And of course there’s hardly any shortage of dramatic and multi-coloured lighting.

Most of the guests are milling about, some far too close for Arianna’s comfort Unfortunately, her already clear awkwardness isn’t especially evident to the more inebriated partygoers.

“Hey pretty lady.” A young man in a some sort of zombie mask apparently isn’t discouraged by the presence of the even taller man next to her. “Wanna go grab a drink?”

As soon as she focuses on him, her gaze snaps to his shoes, then away; he’s about to try to say something else, though with one derisive stare from Hades and he instantaneously shuts his mouth and slinks away like a defeated pup.

“Hmph. They’re like animals.”

Arianna doesn’t really want to ask him precisely what he means, focused on trying to regain her toppled equilibrium. The sudden approach and the already crowded atmosphere is doing little to quell her flickering anxiety. Perhaps it had been a mistake to come here after all.

Her other free hand lifts to grasp at his wrist, her gaze firmly upon the ground as she hunches in on herself, entire body tense.

“Are you sure you don’t want to leave? Perhaps -- ”

“Oh, Arianna! You came!”

The other masculine voice cuts through the white noise and Hades’ words; she recognises it immediately. She glances nervously at Hien’s boots as he comes to a halt a little ways away; there’s cloth beside his, like a robe, or -- 

“I didn’t expect -- I see Hades is here, as well...” Hien trails off a little, perhaps noticing the dire state of the dark-haired woman. “Shall we go somewhere a little quieter? I know a spot -- the hallway’s not as crowded.”

She doesn’t need any other amount of convincing; Hades leads her as Hien and Kirishimi direct the two of them into a darkly lit hallway. Whilst the music here is somewhat muted, the decorations continue along the ceiling, winding over the doors.

It feels far less claustrophobic, however. Perhaps most of it is to do with being surrounded by friends instead. Or Hades standing in the entranceway to the larger room, blocking out most of the rabble.

Leaning against the wall, her death grip upon him slowly lessens as she exhales. Her shoulders slump as some of the sickly tension evaporates. Whilst she’s not entirely in her element yet, things feel -- slightly better. At least better enough that she can try to look up.

She’s somewhat tempted to ask Hien if something is wrong with his eye, until she recalls that they’re all wearing costumes. His appears to be something of a pirate, complete with an eyepatch; though the lighting is dim if not entirely coloured, his outfit seems to be composed of yellows, or perhaps orange. As for Kirishimi --

The woman looks so natural in the -- kimono? -- that for a second it hadn’t even registered that she’s wearing a “costume” at all. She still isn’t really certain it looks like a costume --

And the tails are certainly not a fabrication. Though she supposes she can get away with it at a party.

Hades chooses that moment to gesture with a sigh.

“And you wouldn’t even let me come like that.”

“Your case is a little bit...different...”

Hien’s expression is friendly once he notices Arianna looking up at him.

“Feeling any better? I could get you a drink, if you like...?”

After a moment’s hesitation, the woman gives a small nod. Whilst she feels bad for monopolising the man’s time, her throat undeniably feels a little parched. Once he slips past Hades, the kitsune takes the opportunity to speak.

“Yer lookin’ cute, Ari!”

Feeling her face heat up, Arianna directs her gaze away, glancing toward the ground; after a few seconds, she takes a peek to the wider room, then the other side. With no one else -- really in earshot, perhaps she can manage --

“Ah...tha-thank you...you...too...”

Pressing her fingers to her cheek, she closes her eyes as she tries to calm herself, feeling stupidly childish for no real reason. Though she supposes, perhaps, this is childish; what sort of person can’t even converse...?

“But yer looking as slimy as ever.”

“And I can tell you hardly put any effort into your ‘costume’. You’ve just gone as yourself.”

“Ya tellin’ me yer not some kinda demon? As if I’d believe that. And that suit’s just what ya always wear.”

“Not at all, the cut and style are entirely different. But I wouldn’t expect anything more of a mutt.”

Paradoxically, their hissing argument somehow manages to put her at further ease. Perhaps because it’s a norm of what those two always do when they’re forced together in a single room; no matter the occasion or the reason, they’ve never seemed to be able to get along for longer than a few minutes at a time, and even that is being generous...

See? Everything is normal. That is what she tries to tell herself.

Except for, well, everything else about the situation, but if she just focuses on Hades’ shoulders, perhaps she can pretend nothing is too out of the ordinary about this.

Hien returns a few minutes later with a clear glass of water in his hand; he gives it to Arianna with an encouraging smile, and she takes it gratefully. The glass is cool in her hand, and for a moment she wishes she had something warmer, but it’ll do. Lifting it to her lips, she begins to sip as her companions break out into quiet conversation and half-hearted jabs --

A loud sound, like a foghorn, sheers through even the music; a few people scream. Arianna full-on nearly jumps in place, her vaguely settled nerves fraying like unravelling threads. The blood in her veins turns to ice along with the coldness of the water spilling down her front, and she lets go entirely of Hades’ hand to press her palm to her ear. It’s a wonder she doesn’t let go of the glass entirely -- or that her grip doesn’t simply break it. Instead, she presses it to her other ear as she curls away from the entranceway, her mind struggling at a mile a minute.

There’s few things she’s consciously afraid of. Loud, sudden noises are one such thing.

The tiny noise that had managed to spill from her lips earlier dies, her throat constricting painfully. The dimly lit hallway seems to flicker and swim before her eyes; she squeezes them shut as she tries to calm herself.

“Ari? You okay?”

Their voices sound far away, as if they speak to her from under water or glass. She can’t respond, not even with a movement; her head spins like a kaleidoscope and, dimly, she thinks to herself yet again how stupidly childlike she must look to them all. Especially...

“I am afraid everyone here has overstayed their welcome...”

If there’s one voice that cuts through the noise, it’s his, always his.

But what is he...?

“ -- Ha -- ” Her voice falters in her throat the moment she tries to speak out and grasp at his arm; he easily slips from her and into the crowd of giggling and chatting partygoers, their volume spiraling into a crescendo. She still feels ill, and his sudden disappearance does a poor job of calming her. Was he talking about her...?

There’s a sudden scream; the entire crowd stops stock still. Then pandemonium erupts as chaos consumes the whole house, a thundering of voices and footsteps as the guests throw themselves out whatever doors and windows they can reach.

It’s not difficult to see why. In the centre of the room -- and taking up more space with every second -- is...Hades, in his eldritch form of course, the same one she’d seen when she’d first met him.

The house is deserted in less than a minute; only Arianna, Kirishimi, and Hien remain. The kitsune’s ears are instinctively flattened to her head, tails stiff, her arms unconsciously thrown out in front of her companion. Arianna thinks she can hear something like a growl from within her throat. The devourer of souls seems to have no issue with his current appearance, arms spanning the whole living area.

“Will ya put that away already? Ya stink like the damn void.”

“And you smell like wet dog. Nothing new about that, however.”

With a sigh, the eldritch’s limbs and size retreats; shadows envelop him, and finally he stands in the middle of the abandoned glasses and shattered plates in his humanoid flesh.

“Much better now, eh? I said you’d finally be able to enjoy yourself.”

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 40 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Happy Halloween, and welcome to Chapter 40! Only 82802291 to go! (JK…kind of.) Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Violet and Sutan made things official.

This Chapter: All of New York’s fashion elite shows up to Heidi’s Klum’s annual Halloween party. (Seriously. Everyone is in this chapter.)

***

“Go a little higher-” Katya was cut off as the door to Pearl’s room opened.

“Urgh!” Pearl looked up, a mess of grey spiderweb in her long blonde hair and on her hands where she had raised them to protect her face when she had left her room. “What the fuck!”

“Whoops.” Trixie grinned, the cobweb shooter he had been using to decorate in hand.

“Hi Pearl.” Max smiled, waving his hand from where he was standing next to Katya, holding up the string of lights they were attempting to mount on the wall.

“Sorry!” Katya laughed. “I didn’t know you were in there.”

“How does that make this better?” Pearl groaned, peeling the sticky web off of her hands. “I was just taking a nap.”

“We’re very sorry Pearlie girl.” Trixie smiled, reaching out to gently get the web in her hair.

“What are you even doing?”

“It’s a haunted house!” Katya gestured, Halloween decorations covering almost every visible surface. Katya loved Halloween, being allowed to scare her first graders something she looked forward to every year. Over the weekend, Trixie had been working on his own costume when they had started talking about making a miniature haunted house, and it had quickly snowballed into a giant craft project taking over the entire apartment.

There weren’t a lot of kids around them, but the few that had all figured out that Katya and Trixie gave out full sized candy bars for Halloween. And while Katya loved seeing all the little faces light up in delight as she dumped candy into their buckets, the idea of scaring the bejesus out of them first was extremely exciting.

“You’re not planning to use my bedroom for this extravaganza, are you?” Pearl asked skeptically.

“No, don’t worry! We were thinking that we’d cover your doorway in spiders and spiderwebs and have freaky lights and spooky sounds coming from inside.”

“It felt fitting,” Trixie added with a laugh.

“Do you want to help?” Max smiled. He had originally only come over to borrow a bowler hat for his Charlie Chaplin costume, Katya telling him with a grin that he had to remember to keep the hat on unless he wanted to end up looking like Hitler.

“No thanks.”

“Really?” Trixie looked confused for a moment, picking the last piece of web out of her hair. “But you love Halloween!”

“I have to go meet up with Adore.” Pearl shrugged, reaching behind Max to grab her jacket. “She wanted to look at costumes together so we can coordinate.”

“Awh,” Katya grinned, Pearl shooting her a sharp look. “That’s adorable.”

“Okay mom.” Pearl almost seemed like she was annoyed, but Katya could see in her eyes that she took the tease for what it was.

“I think it’s nice.” Trixie loaded the cobweb shooter. “It’s cute that you like someone.”

“Yeah, well…” Pearl mumbled something unintelligible as she slung a bag over her shoulder.

“What was that?”

“I said she’s the cute one!” Pearl exclaimed, and when all three of them began ‘aww’ing again, she immediately left, giving them exaggerated eye rolls.

“A couple’s costume?” Trixie said, pressing a hand to his heart as he sank down onto the sofa, eyes shining. “You think it’s getting serious?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s still Pearl,” Katya told him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

***

“Fame?” Patrick called out, closing the door behind him. He wasn’t sure if his wife was home yet, but the light was on, a Birkin on their entrance table.

“Up here!”

Patrick smiled to himself, Fame’s voice traveling down from upstairs. If he knew her right, she was probably sitting at her desk, going through whatever creative she hadn’t had time to look at at the office.

“I’ll be right down! Our costumes finally came!”

Patrick grinned, the sound of a computer closing and Charles perking up coming from upstairs. In reality, Patrick would have been fine with something from a boutique, or even no costume at all, but Fame had never been able to resist going all out, least of all for Halloween, and he found it charming enough to play along happily. Patrick loved his wife, had since he saw her for the first time, but she was also wonderfully, insanely extra.

Patrick watched as his wife came down the stairs in a flurry of white, a cape draped over her shoulders, her hair still in the delicate updo she had twisted it into that morning, their dog right behind her.

“I’m so glad they arrived in time!” Fame smiled as she opened the hallway closet, pulling out two garment bags.

“Hey boy.” Patrick smiled, scratching Charles' head, the dog nudging against his hand once before walking away when he realized that Patrick didn’t have any treats and that there was no promise of a walk on the horisont.

“You’re going to love them this year.” Fame grinned, unzipping one of the bags.

“Let me guess,” Patrick took a step forward, the dress a stunning golden piece with feathers. “Are you-”

“It’s Cleopatra!” Fame pulled the dress out. “1963.” Fame smiled brightly, the detail of the gown beyond decadent for a Halloween party, even if it was Heidi Klum’s.

“Ah.” Patrick smiled. “Of course, and who will I be then?”

It wasn’t that Patrick didn’t care, but he hadn’t actually been aware that he was going to that specific party until he had checked his shared calendar, Fame more often than not completely in charge of their social life.

It was how Patrick liked it, and since all of their friends would be there, he had found no reason to complain.

“How can you even ask?” Fame chuckled, opening the second bag. “You’ll be my adored consort, Mark Antony.”

“Of course,” Patrick chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple.

***

“I’m so so sorry-”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed. I’m only your boss when we’re at work, cutie.” Raven grinned as she heard Raja’s silky smooth voice, a clear hint of delight in the deep tone, Sutan chiming in from the front seat.

“Don’t call her that.”

They had just picked up Violet on their way to Heidi Klum’s Halloween party, Raja and herself in the back, while Sutan had taken a seat in the front with their driver, which was why they were even in this situation.

Violet had opened the door to the car, saying hi as she slipped in and placed a quick kiss on the cheek of the tall, mustached, suit-clad person in the middle seat. What Violet hadn’t noticed, until her lips had been pressed against skin, was the fact that it was not actually Sutan, but instead Raja, dressed up as Groucho Max.

“I swear I didn’t mean-” There was a hint of panic in Violet’s voice, the woman dressed up as Audrey Hepburn from Breakfast at Tiffany’s, the jewels on her neck clearly fake,  but Raven guessed that it was only Halloween once a year, and Violet didn’t seem like the diamond type.

“Don’t worry,” Raja grinned, leaning back in her seat. “I rather liked it.”

“Raj-” Sutan turned his head, looking back at them. “Please.”

Raven had to bite her lip not to snicker, her corset digging into her hips. She knew Raja was only doing this to mess with Sutan, and it worked perfectly, the normally so cool, calm and collected man looking genuinely distressed.

“Scared I’ll steal your girlfriend?” Raja wiggled her brows, her fake mustache moving as she put an arm around the back of Violet’s seat, the other woman sitting completely straight, her hands in her lap.

“Hey!” Raven turned her head, a flash of jealousy washing over her, causing Sutan to laugh. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Awh,” Raja smiled, letting go of Violet. It was one of the weirdest things about Raja. Somehow, she seemed to genuinely like whenever Raven acted possessive, and if Raven had decked a girl here and there, or torn out an earring or two, that was no one's business but theirs.

“Princess.” Raja put a hand on her dress, the red sequined fabric probably scratchy to the touch. “You know,” Raja leaned in, “You’re the only one for me.”

“Oh god.” Sutan groaned. “Here we go again.”

The mustache felt weird as Raja kissed her, but Raven still put an arm around her neck, holding her close.

“Please tell me we’re almost there.”

Raven flipped Sutan off, making him laugh, her engagement ring almost getting tangled up in Raja’s wig.

***

“Ugh, I feel like such a basic bitch,” Courtney whined.

“That’s cause you are!” Morgan said, making Tyra laugh.

Courtney whimpered, looking around at the crowd outside Heidi Klum’s party. They were waiting for Adore to let them in, and she was rapidly losing confidence. She’d gone all-out on a Marilyn Monroe costume to fit the party’s “Old Hollywood Glamor” theme, even getting advice from her drag queen brother in Sydney (who did Marilyn regularly as part of his act), and of course, she’d already seen about 4 other girls with the same idea.

“Okay, but come on, you’re definitely gonna be the best Marilyn here,” Tati assured her.

“Easy for you to say,” Courtney said. “You actually had an original idea.”

Tati was dressed as Jeannie from the classic TV show, in a costume that showed off her gorgeous body to perfection. Courtney couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous, wishing that her own costume was more creative. If there was one thing she couldn’t stand, it was being just another generic blonde--especially at a chic event like this. She also probably needed to admit to herself that a big part of her nerves came from being in this kind of crowd again, possibly running into her boss.

“Happy Halloween, bitches!” came Adore’s voice, and they all turned around to see her sauntering down the sidewalk in a tailored pinstripe suit, Pearl on her arm in a pencil skirt and beret.

They were the hottest Bonnie and Clyde that Courtney had ever seen. Ugh, everyone was killing it and it made her feel even less worthy of being at the party in the first place.  

“You guys look amazing!” Tyra exclaimed, and Adore grinned.

“Thanks, we know.” Adore gave them a sassy wink, a hand on Pearl’s lower back guiding her forward to the bouncer, where she waved her invite and then grandly beckoned the whole group inside.

***

“Ivy!” Jinkx’ face lit up with delight. She wasn’t expecting to see her beautiful crush tonight, but it was a wonderful surprise. Her costume was as adorable as she was, a cute and fashionable nod to Judy Garland in The Pirate when she sang “Be a Clown,” something that Jinkx knew very well that not many people would appreciate. “Hi! You look absolutely incredible!”

“Hi Ms. Mon-sorry, Jinkx,” Ivy giggled, tucking a lock of red hair behind her ear. “You don’t look so bad yourself. I guess you’re my daughter tonight, eh?”

Jinkx laughed as Ivy gestured to her Liza costume, shrugging and saying, “I guess so, Mama...wait no, that’s weird. You must be at least 5 years younger than me. Forget I said that. Please.”

“Consider it forgotten,” Ivy grinned again, asking, “So how have you been?”

“I’m good, I’m good. I’m so glad to see you, I didn’t know you’d be here,” Jinkx took Ivy’s offered hug, squeezing her tightly but being sure to release her quickly, lest it get awkward.

“Oh yeah, well, my boyfriend works at Vogue and his boss couldn’t make it, so he gave us the tickets.”

Jinkx felt her world shatter at the words that had just left Ivy’s mouth. Boyfriend? What was going on?

“Boyfriend? You have a boyfriend?”

“Yes, his name is Keith. We’ve been together for years, he’s over there by the bar.” Ivy waved happily to what Jinkx was sure was a lovely man in a coordinating costume.

“Right,” Jinkx nodded, because what else was she supposed to do? She only hoped that her face didn’t show how absolutely crestfallen she was.

“Actually, I was trying to remember that book you recommended because he’s super into local food too, but I couldn’t remember the title.”

“Oh, um…” Jinkx swallowed, suddenly wishing she was anywhere but here. “Animal, Vegetable, Miracle.”

“Right! Thank you. Sorry, I’m such an airhead when I don’t write things down.”

Jinkx could see Keith approaching them now, two glasses of beer in his hands.  

“It was so great to see you, but I really have to run. I was on my way to the bathroom, so-”

“Oh gosh, sorry!” Ivy smiled again, that beautiful smile, and gave her one more quick hug. “Find us later and we can talk some more!”

“Of course, sure! Bye, Ivy!” Jinkx turned towards the restrooms, hoping she could make it into a stall before her stupid tears started to fall.

***

Courtney peeked around a column, the butterflies her stomach going crazy when she spotted Bianca walking away from the bar with a couple of drinks, looking exactly as glamorous as expected in a deep blue silk wrap dress. She bit her lip, trying to gather the nerve to go say hello, when she realized that Bianca wasn’t alone, handing one of the drinks to a tall, absolutely stunning young woman--obviously a model.

To add insult to injury, the girl was also dressed as Marilyn, but her costume was a perfectly tailored version of the low-cut, high-slitted red sequined dress from Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. It fit her lithe, willowy frame like a glove, and made Courtney all too aware of how out of place she was, in a cheap polyester version of Marilyn’s infamous white dress, the fake tits and hip pads that her brother had insisted she wear now feeling totally ridiculous and clownish.

As Bianca and her lady friend strolled forward, laughing and chatting, Courtney made sure to stay out of sight behind the column, heart sinking, squeezing her eyes shut, feeling like a creepy little stalker.

“There you are.”

The voice behind her nearly made her jump out of her skin, and she whirled around to face Tyra with a guilty flush rising to her cheeks.

“What are you doing skulking over here all by yourself?” asked Tyra, a hand on her hip, lips pursed in judgment.

“Nothing. Why?”

“I need another drink,” Tyra said. “Come on.”

She grabbed Courtney’s hand and pulled her towards the bar. Courtney followed, sighing, wishing she wasn’t such a chicken-shit baby.

***

“Hey.” Alaska nudged Jinkx with her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

They were perched on a couple of bar stools, Alaska looking cute as anything in classic Katharine Hepburn menswear, a look of concern on her face. Jinkx shook her head, feeling like an idiot for going so far down the hopeless crush rabbit hole with Ivy without even knowing whether she was single.

“Nothing, I’m just stupid.”

“Well, you’re definitely not that.” Alaska took a sip of her sparkling water.

“You give me too much credit,” Jinkx said with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m being so lame. Let’s go dance.”

She began to slide off the stool, but Alaska stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“We can dance, but first tell me what’s going on. Please,” Alaska smiled. “Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t deserve a friend like you, Lasky,” Jinkx said, lowering her head pitifully to the table. She had spent so much time going on and on about Ivy for over a month. It was shocking, actually, that Alaska still wanted to spend time with her at all. She must have been insufferable.

“Jinkx.”

Her voice was so soft and warm, it almost made Jinkx feel like crying again. She thought she’d gotten it all out in the bathroom earlier, but apparently not.

“I saw Ivy tonight,” Jinkx admitted, blinking fast to try and get rid of her tears. “Did you know she has a boyfriend? A serious boyfriend? I feel so fucking dumb for never-”

Alaska’s eyes had widened in surprise. This was clearly news to her too, which made Jinkx feel a tiny bit better.

“Jinkx, I’m so-” Alaska took her hand, grasping it tightly. “I’m so sorry. I know I was supposed to ask around about her, and things have been busy and I just-”

“It’s not your fault! Omigod, please don’t apologize.” Jinkx squeezed Alaska’s hand.

“But I promised you, and I never-”

“I’m glad you didn’t!” Jinkx shook her head. “Look, it’s a bummer, I guess, and I’ll probably be a mopey asshole for awhile, but I’m glad I found out before I totally embarrassed myself.”

“Anything I can do?” Alaska asked, eyes still soft and sympathetic.

“You can dance with me,” Jinkx said.

“You got it.”

Jinkx giggled, a mischievous smile spreading across her face as Alaska offered her arm and led her towards the dance floor.

***

“Come on!” Juju pulled on her husband's hand, trying to get him to walk faster through the crowd. It had taken forever to get the twins to bed after they had gone trick or treating, Julia and Owen beyond high on the sugar rush after Detox had allowed them to go ham in their Halloween buckets.

“But I want a drink-” Detox whined, and Juju almost rolled her eyes.

“You promised.” Juju looked over her shoulder, “Remember?”

“Right.” Detox smiled, pulling her in to press a kiss against her cheek.

“Ew!” Juju laughed, pushing him away, not willing to risk his orange makeup rubbing off on her face.

At first, when Detox had presented the ideas for their Halloween costumes, Juju had refused to dye his hair Oompa Loompa green, but once her husband made up his mind, it was nearly impossible to change it.

“Ah! Fame!” Juju waved as she spotted her friend, Fame’s hair covered by a stunning golden headdress.

“Juju!” Fame smiled, holding her arms out. “You made it!”

“Sorry we’re late.” Juju grinned. She had given her oldest a wad of cash before they left, Juju making sure that Kelly put it in her bra as a just in case, before she left for whatever high school students did these days.

As always, Juju’s friends had gathered in a corner, Fame almost allergic to open areas at parties. She spotted someone had to be Raja on the couch, making out with Raven, Detox already off to talk with Patrick.

“Juju!” Sutan smiled brightly, his new girlfriend sitting besides him. Juju had almost not believed it when she had read Raven’s text, her best friend swearing up and down that they were officially official. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Same,” Juju grinned, leaning into his hug Sutan got up to give her. “And who are you supposed to be?” Juju looked up and down, Sutan wearing a gray suit with a gray tie and a white shirt. “You decided to come as yourself? That’s real creative.”

“No!” Sutan huffed, sounding almost offended. “Look!” He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a pair of sunglasses and putting them on before he threw his arms out. “See!”

“Oh wow.” Juju drawled. “You’re yourself on a sunny day?”

“Please,” Sutan tipped the glasses down, “I’m Cary Grant. From North by Northwest.”

“Sure.” Juju smiled. She still didn’t believe that Sutan was actually dressed up, but it wasn’t his fault that Raja had gotten all the creativity. “Whatever you say, peaches.”

Sutan laughed, taking the sunglasses off again. “At least I’m not dressed as whatever the fuck-” Sutan pointed with the glasses, before putting them back in his pocket. “Your husband is supposed to be.”

“He’s an Oompah Loompah.” It sounded stupid even now, but it was what Juju had promised him when they’d gotten married, support in both good times and bad. “Duh.”

“Cheers bro!” Detox grinned, raising a glass. Juju had no idea where he had gotten it, the brown liquid unmistakably alcohol. That damn liar.

“Listen, does it surprise you that these two have the weirdest costumes?” Bianca slid up next to them, putting her arm around Juju’s shoulders. “It’s very on brand for them,” Bianca smiled, taking a sip of her drink. “Don’t you think?”

“Thanks, Daddy,” Juju chuckled, tugging on the white Peter Pan collar of her Veruca Salt costume and fluffing her pigtails.

“Hey,” Detox appeared at her side, Juju’s annoyance dying down immediately when she saw the glass of ginger ale that Detox was holding for her. “We just like to have fun.”

Juju took the drink, taking a sip of it, nose wrinkling. She was nearly halfway through this latest surprise pregnancy, and she was already sick of it. Her only consolation was the fact that Detox had finally agreed to a vasectomy, so there would be no more precious little accidents in the Sanderson household. Juju absolutely adored her children, but with a full-time job, a precocious teenager and 3 year old twins, she had her hands full and then some.

On the other hand...she was looking forward to that new baby smell. She rubbed her slightly swollen bump thoughtfully, and considered the fact that since this would be her last pregnancy, she may as well enjoy it. Even if a shot of tequila would be amazing on a night like tonight.

“Juju!”

Juju turned her head to see that Raven had finally pulled herself away from her makeout session with Raja, her still red lipstick annoyingly pristine.

“Look at you!” Juju threw out her arms. Raven was dressed like the only Jessica Rabbit, waist cinched tighter than Juju had ever seen, and of course her tits looking beyond amazing.

“Holy shit!” Juju reached out, grabbing the left tit. “How did you do this?”

“Custom made breastplate.” Raven grinned, pushing her red wig over her shoulder. “Doesn’t it look fan-fucking-tastic? I almost want to get a boob job.”

“As long as they look like this!” Juju laughed.

“Did you hear that Raj?” Raven yelled over her shoulder. “Juju thinks I should get a boob job!”

“Not the one against it!” Raja raised her drink, a smile on her face. “Ask the warden.”

Raven turned quickly to Sutan with a pointed look.

“How am I the villain here?” Sutan looked around.

“The people want boobs.” Juju snickered, leaning her face against Raven’s fake breasts. “You should give us the boobs.”

“I’ll make sure to inform the houses that porn star tits are in high fashion style.” Sutan rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling.

***

Kissing Pearl made Adore feel high.

Well, she was high, but kissing Pearl made it even better. Especially tonight, her girlfriend looking all luscious and feminine with her demure little skirt and glossy, cherry-red lips. All Adore wanted was to eat her up. They danced close together, and Adore couldn’t help hold her close, couldn’t stop her hands from roaming all over her.

She knew that people were watching them, could feel their eyes, and it made things even better. She moved her mouth to Pearl’s neck, letting her perfume wash over her as she sucked at her pulse point, hands squeezing her ass roughly.

Why not give ‘em a show?

***

“Raven!” Violet bit back a giggle as she made sure Raven didn’t fall, their fingers tightly clasped together. “Watch out!” They had gone to the bathroom together, Raven whining that she needed someone to help her with her dress. “You’re like a baby giraffe.”

“As if,” Raven snorted, her cheeks pink, a light in her eyes. “I’m a model.”

“Okay.” Violet smiled, shaking her head as they made their way across the floor. Violet was pleasantly tipsy, her body light and tingly with the alcohol in her blood. The party was a lot more fun than she had ever expected it would be, all the different costumes a joy to look at.

Violet was just looking around, taking in a man who had chosen to arrive on stilts for some reason, when she spotted an incredibly familiar face, the green eyes ones she had sat across from for months.

“Courtney!” Violet exclaimed, suddenly realizing that she actually almost missed the blonde.

“Violet! Hi!” Courtney smiled brightly, her entire energy like an overexcited puppy.  Violet felt Raven let go of her hand, the other woman throwing herself at Adore who caught her with a laugh.

“You look-” Violet glanced down at Courtney’s costume. “... Did you get a boob job?”

“What?” Courtney looked down at herself. “No!” Courtney laughed, grabbing her own chest. “No, no these are fake.”

“Huh.” Violet bit her lip, the padded bra looking almost disturbingly real to her tipsy mind. “Good. You’re pretty with your own breasts.”

Courtney grinned, lashes fluttering as she said, “Well, thanks for noticing, Violet.”

Violet smiled back, shaking her head. It was like she had never found Courtney annoying at all, the blonde just a beacon of good vibes. She tried to remember the last time she’d even seen her at work, when something popped into her head.

“Wait. Wait wait wait.” Violet reached out, grabbing Courtney’s wrist. “What happened with that dress?”

Courtney looked puzzled, her head tilted in confusion. “What dress?”

“The dress for Fame?” Violet still remembered vividly how stressed Courtney had looked. “With the golden pockets?”

“Ohh, that.” Courtney waved her hand. “She looked at it for a few seconds and then demanded eight more unrelated things. The usual.”

A giggle bubbled up from Violet’s chest. Now that she wasn’t working in Miss Fame’s office anymore, she was allowed to find Courtney’s irreverence a little bit amusing.

“Courtneyyyyy come get shots with us!”

The most beautiful girl Violet had ever seen in her life suddenly appeared, tugging on Courtney’s arm. Violet’s eyes barely knew where to land, taking in her wide brown eyes and full lips, the pink and gold of her costume making her tan skin glow.

“Violet, have you ever met my friend Tati?” Courtney asked, and Violet blinked, reaching out her hand.

“Wow. You’re…” Violet swallowed. “Beautiful.” She instantly felt her cheeks heat up, a terrible blush no doubt blooming on her cheeks. Violet wanted to throw herself out the window, the whole thing terribly embarrassing, but thankfully, the angel just laughed.

“Hi,” Tati smiled. “You should come get shots with us!”

“Um. I have to…” Violet tried to force her brain, tried to remember how to be a human being. “I have to…” Violet turned around, leaving without another word in a desperate attempt not to make more of a fool of herself.

This.

This was exactly why she didn’t have friends.

[robinrunsfiction]

Hey Robin - I requested that Adam Lazzara / werewolf moodboard you reblogged on your main, and now that I see you've reopened requests, it gave me an idea! Can you write a story where Adam is a werewolf, and it's a few days before the full moon so he's wired and also aroused, so he and the girl have rough sex to get him to calm down?

Had A Little Bit But I Want Some More

Pairing: Werewolf!Adam Lazzara x Female Reader Rating: Mature (Smut) Requested By: Anon Word Count: ~1,200 Author’s Note: We are branching out folks! I know I’d used Adam as a side character in My Blue Heaven but this is my first time writing for him alone. Also!!! This is my first werewolf fic! So I’m a little nervous how it will go over, but I hope you enjoy! (btw it’s hard to find an Adam Lazzara gif on this site that doesn’t also have Frank. I so stan their friendship)

If you thought too long about it, it was sorta strange.

You’d been with your boyfriend Adam for over a year now, and while he was in a band and therefore on the road pretty often, it always seemed like there was always a day or two a month where he was like a ghost. No sign of him on social media, no messages, no calls, nothing. An anxious feeling nawed at your stomach as you wondered why that was. He never mentioned taking a day to himself every month, did that mean he was hiding something? Someone?

You tried not to be paranoid as you started marking the days on your calendar, and that’s when you noticed the weird pattern. It was always on the full moon. That sent your mind spinning in whole new directions. Was he in some weird cult? What could possibly be going on?

When you asked Adam if he wanted to come over for the night, you specifically chose a date a few days before the next full moon. As you laid on the couch together, you noticed that he seemed a bit restless.

“You ok?” You asked, glancing up at him.

“Yea, yea I’m fine,” he said, shifting again.

“You haven’t stopped moving since you got here,” you replied sitting up. “Is something going on with you?”

“What do you mean?” He replied, a hint of defensiveness in his voice.

“I mean you disappear every month around the full moon, you can’t sit still tonight and I know it’s almost the full moon, and it all just seems really really weird ok?” You blurted out.

Adam groaned and ran a hand through his long dark hair. “(YN), you gotta promise me you won’t freak out.”

Your heart rate immediately shot up. “Why?”

“Because you probably won’t believe what I’m about to tell you.”

“Why?” You repeated again, voice cracking as your eyes grew wide.

“I’m a werewolf,” he replied, almost as if it wasn’t the most absurd thing you’d ever heard.

“Nuh uh,” you shook your head. “That’s not possible.”

“It is,” he said, pulling up the leg of his jeans. “Remember this scar?”

“You said you were attacked by a dog!”

“Well I mean, sorta.”

“So when you disappear-”

“It’s for your safety.”

“Why? What happens?”

“I dunno how to describe it, I just kinda go feral.”

“Is that why you’re so restless tonight?”

“Yea, it’s coming up, I have a lot of energy to burn.”

“Oh... Oh!” You exclaimed when an idea popped into your head. “I mean, I know of one way we could burn off some of that energy.”

You could see Adam was already breathing heavier. “I could hurt you,” he said cautiously.

“Yea, and I could like it,” you retorted.

“Fuckin hell, (YN),” he muttered before practically launching himself across the couch to you, his lips crashing into yours as you fell back against the cushions. A giggle of delight escaped your lips as his hands gripped at your hips tightly as he trailed kisses down your neck.

“You up for the chase?” You murmured.

“Hmm?” He questioned as he pulled back. You took the opportunity to playfully slip from his grasp and run toward the bedroom. 

You heard him let out a low growl as he leapt over the back of the couch and in a flash he had you pinned against the wall just outside your room, his body pressing against yours. You could feel the energy coursing through him as he held both of your wrists in one of his large hands above your head. You were both breathing hard as his eyes searched yours for any hint of apprehension.

“You caught me, now what are you gonna do?” You asked with a smirk.

He let out another low growl before again kissing you hard. You moaned into the kiss as his hips ground against yours. You were completely under his control and nothing could have made you more aroused. He let go of your wrists and his hand trailed down your body, to the back of your legs. You jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist and he carried you into the bedroom. He let you drop back against the mattress and you started to disrobe as he watched hungrily with his dark eyes. 

“Are you just gonna watch, or are you gonna participate?” You teased. 

“You’re sure you wanna do this?”

“Absolutely,” you replied as you pushed yourself up the bed. Adam started to crawl up the bed after you and you felt your heart start to pound. You felt like prey that was about to be devoured.

He discarded his shirt and grabbed your ankle, pulling you toward him. He loomed over you for a moment, before kissing you again. The kisses quickly trailed to your neck, that turned into small bites that made you shiver. When his hands again reached your hips, he took it upon himself to tear away your panties with as much ease as if they were made of paper. 

Adam pressed ravenous, biting kisses down your body until he reached between your legs, leaving marks along the sensitive skin of your thighs where only you would be able to see in the morning. You let out a gasping moan as he licked across your slit, two fingers diving within you. The feeling was almost overwhelming as his tongue moved against your clit, quickly building you up.

“Adam, Adam I’m gonna,” you moaned, but he didn’t relent as you came around his fingers. You barely had a moment to recover before he was getting up, pushing off his pants and boxers and climbing back on to the bed. He flipped you over and pulled you up by the waist and you quickly understood what he wanted to do.

You gripped the bed sheets as you angled your hips up and he slid into you from behind with an animalistic groan. “Fuck (YN), you feel so good,” he muttered as his hips began to slam into you.

The rough pace was dizzying and you tried not to moan out too wantonly for all the neighbor’s to hear, but you couldn’t help it. Adam’s hands had a tight grip on your hips until one found its way into your hair, pulling you up so your back was flush against him.

You moaned as his grip then moved to your neck, squeezing lightly. You completely lost control when he placed a bite on your shoulder and you came around him again. His thrusts began to lose pace and soon he groaned as he stilled deep within you, cumming harder than he ever had. You both collapsed against the mattress, panting messes, recovering from what you’d just done. 

“Are you ok baby?” He asked, brushing the hair our of your face. “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, that was amazing,” you laughed lightly, head still spinning. “Please don’t ever hide on the full moon again if it means I have to miss out on that.”

Adam just laughed and pulled you in for a kiss before you both settled in for the night.

[melodious-madrigals]

big spoon, little spoon 

Prompt fill for @wondertrevnet‘s Lockout Bingo. 

Fandom: Wonder Woman  Pairing: Diana/Steve Prompt: Fluff  Word Count: 3351 Rating: T? (Some really obliquely referenced sexism, I guess.) Summary:  5 times Diana and Steve were disgustingly cute and very happy (+0 times that they weren't because this is fluff). Literally just fluff, Steve & Diana loving each other a lot. Idk what else to tell you. This is part ii of lost love (sweeter when it’s finally found), and you can read the first chapter here. 

Find this fic below the cut or on AO3. 

***

Notes: Takes place a year or two after Hades deposits Steve in Diana's living room. I'd planned a vaguely angstier fic for my next release, but then I had such a shitty 72 hours that I did not want anyone to feel anything but fluffy, so I rearranged the line-up. please enjoy 3k words of wondertrev being happy and loving each other very much.

***

i.

Even in the modern age, Diana remains partial to keeping track of things the old fashioned way. She has a Google calendar like every professional, of course, but all her meetings are also written neatly in a little diary she keeps; her personal life and JL extracurriculars are also neatly coded and transcribed in their own colors in the planner. She writes grocery lists and to-do lists on spare bits of paper, and takes meeting notes in a leatherbound notebook, unless specifically required to be working on an electronic document. She finds there's something satisfying about seeing the ink in front of her.

Yesterday, for example, she jotted a quick to-do list on a sheet of notepaper, and then tacked it to the fridge, so she'd remember to do items three (water succulents on the kitchen and bathroom window sills) and five (check cream level after Steve finishes his coffee) before she leaves in the morning.

She glances over the other eleven items, mentally ticking off what can be completed today while she's running errands on her way to work, and her eyes land on the last line.

There, scrawled in curling letters under her own tight font, is an addition that certainly wasn't there last night: 14. Kiss your husband.

She smiles. That one she'll have no problem checking off.

Steve's out on the terrace, still sipping his coffee, halfway through a crossword puzzle. She swoops in without warning, dropping a quick kiss to his lips, and then another to the top of his head, before whipping out her list and checking off number fourteen.

"Wait, come back," says Steve, setting down the paper.

"I don't know; I'm having a very productive morning and I've already checked it off," Diana teases. "I might have to move on to other things."

"No fair," he pouts.

"The post office is open already," she continues blithely, brandishing the to-do list. "I should probably go there directly."

In a flash, Steve has leaned forward and snatched the list right out of her hands.

"Steve!" she cries, and lunges for it, but by the time their little scuffle is over and it's back in her hands, 15. Let your husband kiss you is scrawled messily along the bottom.

"Well," she says, smirking despite herself, "if the list says so, I can't argue."

"I'm glad you've seen sense," says Steve, leaning in with a gleam in his eye.

She doesn't manage to tick anything else off before work—ends up rushing not to be late, in fact—but she's always felt it's important to be thorough when completing tasks.

***

ii.

It's rainy and gross, the weather just cold enough that it's unpleasant, but not so cold that the rain has turned into snow or sleet. Unfortunately, it's a Thursday.

When Diana's alarm goes off, she groans, and sticks her head under a pillow, and then pulls the duvet over them both.

"Play hooky with me," Steve says sleepily from next to her.  

"I cannot just skip work."

"And how many sick days do you have accrued?" asks Steve, who knows perfectly well that the number is high, because Diana doesn't get sick the way mortals do.

Diana mumbles something from under the pillow.

"What was that?"

"...a lot," she says, grudgingly. "But that would be lying; I'm not sick."

"Mental health days are a thing now," reasons Steve. "And how many projects are due today?"

"You know perfectly well there's nothing big until next Wednesday."

Steve burrows under the duvet, so that they're face to face and hidden from the outside world.

"Are we going to do anything productive?"

"Not a damn thing."

"Yes, I suppose that does sound nice."

"Excellent! I lie for a living. I'll telephone both our jobs."

Steve gets up, and Diana rolls into the warm spot he left behind. She can hear the soft murmur of his voice though the wall, and five minutes later he's slipping back into bed, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

"All set."

She snuggles into him, and they fall back to sleep to the patter of the rain.

*

When Diana wakes up the second time, it's raining harder still, but there's the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Steve's sitting up, still in pajamas, reading.

She must've been more tired than she thought, because it's rare that Steve wakes up first.

Diana blinks back the sleep in her eyes and takes a moment to appreciate the picture Steve paints, with his tousled hair and reading glasses. He looks soft and sleepy and perfect, and suddenly she's extremely glad he convinced her to take the day off.  

Steve glances over at her, and looks mildly surprised to find she's awake.

He bookmarks his page with care, and then leans over and grabs a steaming mug that was outside her line of vision, offering it to her.

"I did not even hear you get up to make coffee."

"You clearly needed the sleep," Steve says.

"Maybe." Diana sighs, "I suppose I should not lay in bed all day."

"Then I've got just the thing."  He offers her a hand, and she lets him lead her out of the bedroom.

In their living room, instead of the normal furniture configuration, there's a glowing mass of sheets. It seems that Steve has taken it upon himself to make a blanket fort, and has decorated it with a string of lights he must have found at the back of the closet. She really can't believe she slept through this.

"You have been looking at Pinterest again, haven't you?"

"No comment."

"It's lovely."

"There's nothing inside, yet. I thought we could do that bit together."

It's perfect, so she says so.

They pull some cushions off the couch and drag their duvet in too, and all of a sudden, the blanket fort is complete and they have a wonderful little rainy-day nest.

"Breakfast in blanket fort?"

She bites her lip and nods. "But in a minute," she adds, catching his hand in hers before he can move away, and for a moment, they lay on their backs, enjoying the flickering lights.

***

iii.

Diana walks into a massacre.

"What happened here?" Deep red stains cover half the visible surfaces.

Steve looks up, guiltily.

"I spilled cold water on one of the hot jars, and it exploded."

"So just to confirm, none of it is your blood?"

"It's one hundred percent cherry preserves."

Diana breathes a sigh of relief. "That is far easier to fix," she says, slipping her arms around his waist from the back and swooping in to kiss his cheek.

Steve spins in her arms to face her. "It was a rookie mistake. With the amount of jam I've made in my lives, it should never have happened."

Diana sweeps a bit of the exploded cherry preserve off of his cheek with her thumb, and then ducks out of his hold to taste it.

"It is excellent."

Steve grins affably, and rinses both his hands and the rag he's holding. "Good, there are a dozen more jars of it cooling in the dining room."

"Only a dozen?" asks Diana in genuine surprise, because Steve has been known to go a little overboard when it comes to making jams.

"Plus a dozen each of raspberry and blueberry preserves."

"Ahh," she says, nodding. That makes a great deal more sense.

"I already cleaned up the glass, and was going to wipe everything down and start on the peaches. Care to join me?"

Diana knows next to nothing about canning and preserving and jellying, but she missed it last year when the Justice League called her out of town unexpectedly. There's no way she's missing it again this year.

"Tell me where to start," she says, smiling.

"With clothes you don't mind getting dirty, for one. As I've clearly demonstrated," Steve jokes, gesturing at his aproned (and sticky) body.  

Diana glances down at her several-hundred euro suit, and then makes for the bedroom. "I'll only be a moment."

"I've got nothing but time!" Steve calls after her, jovially.

When she comes back out—now dressed in an ancient t-shirt that she's stolen back from Steve (after he stole it from her last year) and jeans so soft they're practically threadbare—she pauses in the doorframe, watching Steve. He's mostly mopped up the cherry preserves, and he's humming as he towels up the bit that somehow managed to get on the backsplash.

He's probably been at this for hours, and despite the mishap, he's still in an excellent mood. It makes her smile softly.

He catches her eye just as he hits the chorus of the soft '80s song he's singing, and he pulls her behind the island and spins her around. She laughs and plays along, and they rock back and forth a few times, Diana joining him on the last chorus as he hands her an apron.

"If you want to start pitting the peaches, I'll finish cleaning the pot."

They chat about their days as they work (Diana gets a play-by-play of the events leading up to the exploding jar, and Steve gets a run-down on the passive-aggressive email war she's having with the British Museum), and eventually Steve comes over to help her pit and cut the fruit.

Once everything has been dumped into the large copper jam pot, they turn up the radio and dance around the kitchen to old music, stirring intermittently until the peach compote has simmered down and thickened enough that it's time to jar and let it set.

"That was fun," Diana says, as they finish the washing up. Their dining room table has been completely overtaken by jams and preserves cooling in quaint-looking Mason jars, but it's worth it.

"I'm hoping to make elderberry jam still this year, and apple jelly in the late autumn, if you'd like to join me," Steve says, a dish-towel flung over his shoulder. (It's very cute.)

"It's a date," Diana declares, and she sees his eyes flick to her lips.

A second later, their lips meet, slow and languid, and Diana sighs into the kiss. Steve's lips taste vaguely sweet, a little like the peach jam they'd swiped samples of while they worked, and hers probably do too.

If Steve's lucky, he might be able to steal the t-shirt back yet this evening.

***

iv.

There's tittering outside her office, which—if Diana had been paying attention—would've tipped her off twenty minutes ago to the fact that Steve is here. Her interns are a bit of a gossipy bunch this year, and they've all taken a shine to Steve. (Apparently he's the most interesting thing to happen to the office, and the presence of the seemingly straight-laced Mme. Prince's charming significant other is always cause for news in a way little else is.)

As it happens, she's in the middle of updating the care manuals for several artifacts that are about to be going on loan, and misses all the signs until there's a distinctive tap on her door, and Steve lets himself in.

She's always pleased to see him, and doubly so since he's been away for the past ten days on a mission with ARGUS.

"Hello, my love," she says, and leans forward over the desk to give him a quick kiss, before returning to her paper.

A moment later, she looks up, doing a spectacular double take. "You are home early!" exclaims Diana, moving out from behind her desk to give him a proper hug and another kiss.

Steve laughs, and kisses her a third time, on the nose.

"We were in and out without any loose ends to take care of. It went as smoothly as could be expected."

"I'm glad you're home."

"Me too. Care to celebrate with a quick dinner?"

Diana sighs. "I would love to, but these need to be sent out early tomorrow morning."

"Oh, come on. You need to eat at some point. Besides," says Steve. "I've still got the time dilator we found on mission if you need to get the reports done later."

"Steve," she scolds, although there's very little heat to it. "You are not considering used banned tech just for a little extra time with me tonight."

"To have dinner with you at a reasonable hour? I absolutely am." He looks at her imploringly. "We'll just slip out to the little Thai place you love and be back in an hour or two."

Diana has known she was going to give in from the moment he suggested it, but she still scrunches her face a little. "Oh, all right." Steve's victorious smile is actually adorable, and they pass a lovely couple of hours catching up on the last few days.

They get back to her office around 21h00, and instead of leaving, Steve pulls out his laptop.

"You don't have to," Diana protests. "It's late."

Steve just shrugs. "I need to work on my mission report anyways."

Diana acquiesces, simply because she's not-so-secretly pleased to have the company.

(They only have to use the time dilator once.)

Later, after Diana has everything squared away, they decide to walk home, despite the distance and the hour.

They amble along the Seine, arm in arm. The soft light of Paris never gets old, especially the way the hazy reflections ripple in the river. For all the madness of the afternoon, it's been a good day. Diana leans her head on Steve's shoulder, and they stroll on.

***

v.

Midway through her diatribe, Diana flops down in front of him, and leans against his legs, seeking comfort in her frustration. Steve's hands immediately find her hair, and he gently starts rubbing circles into her scalp as she continues the impassioned rant that began a while ago in the kitchen, "—and it is infuriating, because it is not my department, you understand? The only recourse is to file an official complaint, but that could take ages and ages and until then, they are using an outdated method that could potentially cause lasting damage to the artifacts!"

Steve hums sympathetically when Diana pauses to take a sip (well, a swig) of wine, and he splits a bit of her hair to start braiding as she adds, "These are pieces of cultural history, Steve. They should be treated with the utmost respect so that they last for generations to come to tell our history, and instead Michel is going to keep using a compound that will eventually compromise the integrity of the color!"

Steve knows there's a lot of complicated inter-departmental politics and squabbles that mean there's no good way to address the problem.

"—and the way he treats Sophie!" Diana huffs, a clear indication that they're back to Michel—a frequent source of frustration—but on a personal note this time.

"Hair tie," interjects Steve, and without missing a beat, she flicks one off her wrist and hands it to him so he can finish off the braid neatly.  

"It is disgusting, and she does not wish to file a complaint, which I understand is her choice, but it still makes me cringe. I wish he would try it on me, because I would break his—"

Diana's phone pings, cutting her off, and she sags against Steve.  

"You know you can keep going," Steve says, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice, because the content of the rant isn't funny, but the situation is. Several weeks ago, they'd decided to try cutting back on work talk in an effort to keep a healthier work-/home-life balance, and almost invariably, one of them blows through the artificially-imposed time limit. (For reference, Diana holds more blow-throughs, but it was him yesterday, and the day before.) "You don't actually have to stop just because the timer went off."

"It was my idea," Diana says ruefully, running her hand down the tight French braid, subconsciously checking it, "and I still maintain it is a good plan, I am just—"

"Very passionate about things you perceive to be injustices, big or small, yeah, I know," Steve grins. This isn't anything new.

Diana twists around to face him, and rolls her eyes at his expression. "You love me for it."

"Yeah, I do," says Steve, still smiling.

Diana sighs. "The conversation will still be here tomorrow, and I will probably still be annoyed. There is little use in continuing now."

"Unless you want to rant," Steve points out. "That's valid."

"I do, but it will not actually make me feel better. It is not cathartic if it just makes me angrier," says Diana. "Best to step away."

"Want me to set up a bath?"

"No, just come cuddle with me in bed."

"I'll never say no to that."

"Yes, but you have to be the big spoon this time," Diana says.

"I still won't say no, even if little spoon is by far the superior of the two."

Her ensuing laugh rings through the apartment, and her hand skims along the plait again.

"Almost as good as Selene's," she muses, and Steve takes it as the compliment that it is: Selene is an Amazon friend known for the intricacy and skill of her braiding techniques.

*

"Okay, one good thing about today?" prompts Steve, once they're curled up in bed. They've begun making it a habit to practice gratefulness each evening before bed. Steve read about it in a mindfulness book, and when he'd mentioned it offhandedly, Diana had immediately been on board. "Other than the fact that it's over," he adds, seeing the look on Diana's face.

"You," says Diana, reflexively.

"You say that every night," laughs Steve.

"It does not stop being true."  

"I think it's supposed to be something different, each time. To accumulate things you're grateful for."

Diana grumbles, but does pause to come up with something else. "The magnolia trees I pass on my walk to work," she says, finally. "They are in bloom right now, and they brighten my day."

If Steve could answer you, or even say the little smile on Diana's face as she speaks, without sounding like a hypocrite, he would. "I found a little patisserie up by the Bastille that has these lovely little raspberry pastries."

"Mmmm," says Diana, smiling. "You do love raspberries." Then, after a pause, in a softer voice: "The fact that I get to take little things for granted, now, and pretend I do not have to specify the little things for which I am grateful. I know I am not supposed to say you, but I am grateful that you are holding me now."

They talk drowsily for a bit, but soon succumb to sleep.

*

Here's the thing.

It's Steve's personal policy to never lie to Diana. That's, like, a pretty basic relationship foundation thing, and it's not something he's ever had trouble with.

But there's one white lie that he doesn't suspect he'll ever come clean about: despite what he tells Diana, he doesn't actually think being little spoon is better than being big spoon.

He likes to hold her, likes getting to nose at her neck and loop his arm around her waist. (Big spoon is also less prone to overheating, which does happen sometimes.)

But Steve also knows that Diana sleeps better as big spoon, that being able to physically hold on to him in her sleep is comforting, a balm after years of night terrors and bad dreams and waking up to empty sheets. It's a small price to pay, in the end, knowing that him being the little spoon makes her happy.

It's a secret he'll take with him to the grave.

*

Steve wakes up in the dead of night, the shadows still long over the bed, the ambient light from Paris's streetlamps a soft glow along the bottom of the windows. It's the foggy sort of waking that means it'll be easy to slip back under, a mere footnote in the night. Just before he drifts off again, he notices that he's now the little spoon. He sighs contentedly, smiles, and falls back asleep.

[britonell]

References and other details in Inuyasha

So people liked this Inuyasha post about PDA in Japan, as well as this post about (90s) Japanese culture in anime. Now, there are certain things anime/manga seem to overlook for artistic reasons, and a lot of cultural things that get taken for granted by the Japanese audience and subsequently never get explained. Although I’d like to think that everything would be covered by wikipedia and online forums, I figured there are always references that can be addressed, especially for new fans who didn’t grow up in the 90s.

Nostalgia~

But let us remember this old disclaimer: I was born at the tail end of the Japanese bubble economy, when video calls on our flip phones were ultramodern but laggy, and few believed the entire JoJo's Bizarre Adventure series would get an anime. Things have changed, yo.

So without further ado, here’s some details from the manga known as Inuyasha.

...using anime gifs to distract you from your chores again!

Time to get this piece of information out of the way: One thing anime/manga seem to consistently ignore for the sake of storytelling---beauty standards were way different in the past. People considered beautiful then would NOT be considered beautiful today. Since Kikyo and Kagome are supposed to look identical, realistically one of them would have to be considered...not model material in their respective time period.

Not to mention height differences. Modern girl Kagome would be quite a bit taller than almost all the feudal era women in the show.

Alright, which one of you two was the ugly duckling!?

I’ve seen people on Tumblr claim canon-Inuyasha just has to be sterile because he’s half-youkai. Yeah...that’s definitely not a thing in Japanese folklore. Humans discovering they’re related to youkai is an old trope. There are plenty of tales with spirits and youkai taking human partners and passing on their mystical powers to their mostly human progeny, so much so that actual people in history had to deal with rumors about being distantly related to a supernatural creature. One such person: Abe no Seimei, a famous onmyōji from the 900s, was accused of being descended from a kitsune. Wild.

If you wanna headcanon it, sure, that’s fine, fanfiction/fanart is what you make of it. That’s what makes the fandom interesting. But insisting it has to be canon, no ifs, ands or buts? Talk about disregarding centuries of Japanese folklore.

Whether Inuyasha can eat chocolate is up to you. There ain’t no folklore about food allergies. Or chocolate. Until Europeans showed up. Thank you, Europe!

Moving on from dessert to birthdays...oh boy. I do vaguely recall a fic in the early 2000s that had Kagome ask for everyone’s birth dates to look up their horoscopes, and the gang found out Inuyasha was born on April 1st. Dunno if that’s the origin, but years later someone listed April 1 as Inuyasha’s birthday online. That is not canon. Why?

If that really was his birthday we’d know everyone’s birthdays, because publishers would want everyone’s character profiles to be released at the same time. They would include their blood types too, we Japanese are big on blood types, it’s like our version of the horoscope.

Also, we didn’t start using the Gregorian calendar until the Meiji era. People couldn’t keep track of birthdays like that in the Sengoku era!!!

Hachiko... Hachiko, Hachiko, Hachiko. Takahashi-sensei pulled one last glaring dog reference in the last chapter. Then again, given all the dog references she made in the series, not using the tale of the ever patient Hachiko would be pretty much blasphemy.

The true tale is about a loyal dog that lost his master after only spending a year together, and proceeded to wait for his master at the train station everyday for nearly a decade until his own death. This ain’t some Tokyo-specific story, everyone in Japan knows that tale, you’d have to be one hell of a hermit to not know. If you think Inuyasha wouldn’t have waited at the well for the rest of his life, Hachiko would like to have a word with you.

Above is the 2009 film about Hachiko. I do not recommend the 1987 film made in Japan. Goddamn they made it way more depressing than necessary. Why Japan, why?

Speaking of dogs, how about those dog brothers. Inu and Sess both have elements of the samurai trope, though Inuyasha is more of a ronin before Kagome becomes his “master,” and Sesshomaru is the quintessential subversion of a samurai. Thanks daytime samurai drama! I learned a lot!

Remember when Inu was all, "I do not deserve happiness, I must promise my life and die!" and although I wanted wise old Kaede to be like, "WTF, stop being suicidal," she was like, "Oh bother." Sacrificing your life for the sake of honor was a very samurai thing to do, though the weight of his declaration lost some impact with the anime's love-triangle plot. Still, forfeiting your life remains a culturally normal symbolism. (I do not encourage emulating this.)

Being a samurai wasn't all about looking menacing. Also their arms are in their kimono, just like Inuyasha would with his longer sleeves... Symbolism!

When we first meet Sesshomaru, he fits the samurai subversion to a T: He’s conceited and judgemental with a privileged background and an unyielding obsession for power. He’s constantly wearing fancy armor as opposed to the protagonist’s simple if not humble attire. I mean, Inuyasha’s background as a warrior is so humble he didn’t even have a sword at the start of the series! And Sesshomaru was so anti-samurai he had a sword that couldn’t cut! (Until much, much later.)

Sesshomaru didn’t have an intimidating samurai helmet, but I guess that symbolism got replaced with his gigantic demon form.

This anime’s version of revealing-his-true-face scene, if you will.

Cultural context makes it hard to properly present his personality outside of Japan. Something that gets lost in translation is his quintessential formality and haughtiness. I don’t mean “please” and “excuse me.” You know how Japan’s got social rules and linguistic expectations? “Boku,” “Watashi,” “Watakushi,” etc. are used by specific demographics to refer to themselves. Sesshomaru is following rich folk standards to elevate himself; as in referring to himself in third person.

His way of speaking shows he holds himself in high regard, without actually bragging. Works in Japanese, especially if you're ridiculously rich and powerful. If a billionaire in California started talking in 3rd person you’d think he was an immature twat. You might also think Sess was the type to wear a slick suit, own a limousine and drink expensive wine. Funny thing about that: He reminds me of an uptight dude who would at first reject Western influence. “Why would this Sesshomaru festoon himself in such a ridiculous foreign costume?”

I just wanted to use one JoJo gif. Gimme a break.

Obviously he grew up by the end of the series. He learned to feel sorrow for Kagura and Rin---the anime didn’t properly show him go cuckoo for cocoa puffs when Kagura’s death was mocked---and he finally got over Tessaiga, but he isn’t going to promptly drop every single cultural formality, especially since he was born with a high status. I can easily see him in a traditional marriage with a typical Japanese wife who performs the duties of her rank (including kowtowing before the marital futon, walking three steps behind when out and about, accompanying him for every social gathering, etc.)

If he was in modern Tokyo, he’d be the rich guy who always wears traditional kimono, may or may not own a fancy-schmancy estate with a zen garden and some koi ponds, always insists on speaking Japanese without the English loanwords...aww snap, I just described a conservative yakuza boss.

Then again, high-ranking yakuza members claim to be descendants of samurai, and they sacrifice a finger or two when they make a mistake, just like their supposed ancestors. Sesshomaru lost a whole dang arm for underestimating Inuyasha. Instead of yakuza tattoos, he’s got nifty demon markings. Hmmm.

...not the kind of mob boss I was thinking of. And yeah, I lied. I’m shamelessly adding a second JoJo gif.

One last detail to note: We all know Takahashi-sensei loves adding multiple meanings to her characters’ names. Well baby, she added multiple meanings to Inuyasha’s name alright! First, let’s add some good ole Japanese context.

In the 80s and 90s, biker gangs or bōsōzoku were a real problem in parts of Japan. They ran toll booths, caused a couple of car accidents, threatened bystanders, and embraced “yankii” subculture, a lifestyle wherein youths reject Japanese societal norms (for some this subculture became a gateway to the yakuza life). They were a real noisy menace. Luckily, they never wandered over to where I lived since my brilliant parents decided the apartment standing next to a yakuza family estate was a great place to raise a baby.

The yakuza family ended up moving away after their big ass house went up in flames…that’s a story for another time.

Vrooooom~

Why am I talking to you about biker gangs and “yankii” culture? Hold that thought for a sec.

The Yasha (夜叉) in Inuyasha is Japanese for Yakshas in Buddhism. They were youkai, but also the supernatural attendants of Vaisravana, the Guardian of the Northern Quarter. Yakshas also referred to the Twelve Heavenly Generals who guarded the Buddha of Medicine (薬師如来). Basically, one could say Yasha means “guardian.” (Credit goes to M-Skirvin for that additional research in the link.)

Which is hilarious because Takahashi-sensei, that madwoman, was 100% aware of the fact that Yasha was a common nickname used by the 80s and 90s thugs that I mentioned earlier. Those bikers who went around acting tough and being a loud nuisance? They liked to call themselves “youkai” and, yup, “yasha.” That’s right. Inuyasha’s name held this almost noble “guardian” quality in his time period, but in 90s Japan? He be a streetwise thug, yo.

Real footage of a yankii girlfriend riding on her boyfriend’s back... I mean his bike. Hey, just another symbolism for ya.

Kagome’s three school friends not only thought he was half-Japanese but a thug that went by his street name, and witnessed him help around the shrine and pick Kagome up from school. Consequently, from their perspective, Inuyasha was a rough but misunderstood delinquent with a heart of gold and Kagome was his pretty “good girl” girlfriend who softened him up. Being teenagers, they basically went, “Damn, that’s hot. We approve.”

Actually, even the unusual way he wears his getup is a cheeky reference to the delinquent fashion style!

Edit: Since this is causing some confusion, I’d like to clarify Inuyasha’s outfit isn’t some new kimono created just for that manga, it’s a traditional attire, Inuyasha just wears it like a delinquent.

See the similarities? (This helpful description came from the fan translators of the manga: Tsuppari-kun wa Mukuwarenai.)

One noticeable subversion to the delinquent imagery is Inuyasha's eyebrows. Thugs liked to bleach or shave their eyebrows off to look...scary, I guess. Don't ask me about their life choices.

Takahashi-sensei, bless her, chose to do the exact opposite and gave Inuyasha his thick, luxurious eyebrows, inherited from his father.

I know, thinking of Inuyasha without his eyebrows is terrifying.

Even in the last chapter, the comparison continued. When Souta’s friend, upon learning Kagome got married straight out of high school, wondered to himself if Kagome was a yankii, because those darn delinquents did indeed have the reputation of marrying their high school sweethearts right after graduation.

Damn Rumiko, you so punny.

Takahashi-sensei knew, man, she knew. She wasn’t just making dog references this whole time, she was loading the story full of yankii culture and stereotypes (and a hint of yakuza flavoring à la Sesshomaru.)

In conclusion, Inuyasha is thug in the streets, but guardian in the sheets.

...I’m sorry, I’ll show myself out.