#I’m clearly not a professional baker

[sofas-can-read-ice-can-burn]

Happy Pride Month! It’s my first year celebrating and I decided I wanted to make an asexual cake! With the help of my extremely perfectionist mum, I think we managed to pull it off! I hope ya’ll are having an awesome pride month, whether you’re out, in the closet or somewhere in between 🏳️‍🌈

[lovewithasideoffries]

cinnamon sugar and unspoken sparks 𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ hockey!chris x baker!reader

in which... a bakery owner gains a new regular with a sweet tooth, a secret, and a smile that might just ruin her whole routine.

wc: 2.2k

A/N: hope you guys enjoy! part 2 is in the making :)

it’s 2pm on a saturday, the weather’s beautiful, and your last instagram post went viral, which means you are currently experiencing the rush of the century in the little bakery you call home.

in line, stands chris sturniolo – professional hockey player for the boston bruins – with his brothers. after getting picked up from a morning practice and getting lunch together, nick had insisted on visiting this little pastry shop downtown. and although chris tended to stay away from sweets, given his job as a professional athlete, the smell of fresh cinnamon rolls had him drooling.

“hi there! what can i get for you?” you address the three of them. he looks up from his phone. looking at you, chris is unable to keep himself from smiling. you’re gorgeous and seem to be radiating joy.

“hey! i’m gonna get one of your almond croissants and an iced coffee. matt? chris? you guys want anything?”

“uhh.. maybe like a chocolate chip cookie for me?”

“i’ll get a cinnamon roll,” chris smiles at you. “they smell delicious.”

“perfect! i’ll get those for you in a moment,” you chirp. you get the first guy’s name – nick – typing into the screen and hit pay. the machine prompts their total, and nick taps his card. matt goes out to pull the car around front, and nick runs to the bathroom.

when their order’s called, chris goes up to the front, taking the bag from your hands. “thanks, beautiful.” he winks, before nick joins him and the two head out.

as you watch him leave, you feel excitement bubble in your stomach. you’ll probably never see that guy again, but god was he cute! and flirting with you? just remembering it kept a smile on your face until the end of the day.

the next morning, just after 10:30am, your bakery has settled into its mid-morning lull. the scent of espresso and pastry still cling to the air. you’re wiping down the counter, debating whether to just eat a day-old muffin or actually make something for breakfast, when the bell over the front door jingles – and there he is again. same hoodie, same charming smile, same soft blue eyes.

he walks up to the counter like he’s been doing it forever.

“you back for round two?” you ask, setting the rag aside and stepping up to the register.

“couldn't stop thinking about those cinnamon rolls,” he says, then adds, “or maybe just the person who made them.”

you roll your eyes and laugh, trying to ignore the butterflies from yesterday that have resurfaced. “wow, flirting already? you haven't even ordered.”

“fine, i’ll behave,” he jokes, holding his hands up. “one cinnamon roll, extra frosting if you can.”

you nod, reaching for the tongs. “anything to drink?”

“nah, i’m trying to stay away from unnecessary sugar n stuff.”

you raise an eyebrow. “cinnamon rolls didn't become sugar-free overnight.” you pull out a roll, and drizzle his extra frosting over it.

“i know,” he shoots back, grinning. “i said unnecessary sugar. cinnamon rolls are absolutely a necessity, thank you very much.”

you box his order and reach over for the register. then, on impulse, you ask, “can i get a name for the order?”

he quirks a brow, clearly amused. “you worried it’ll get mixed up with all the other customers in here?” he gestures around. the bakery is empty, besides the two of you.

you lift a shoulder in mock-nonchalance. “it’s for the receipt. gotta keep things official.”

he grins and leans it a bit. “chris. no last name – unless you need that too for, you know… official legal documentation.”

“not unless you’re planning to commit a crime while you’re here.”

“guess i’ll keep it clean today, then.” you punch in his name and slide the receipt and his cinnamon roll across the counter.

“chris,” you read aloud. “you’re officially on file.”

he takes the box from you, fingers brushing just briefly. “glad to be known.

the next day, like clockwork, he comes in around the same time. as soon as you see him you’re already grabbing and packing up his treat.

“you’ve officially ruined all other cinnamon rolls for me,” he tells you dramatically, “i had a sad gas station one this morning. it was like betrayal in a wrapper.”

you laugh, then say in mock offense, “i can't believe you’d cheat on me with a gas station. you deserved that sad roll.”

“yeah, well last time i checked you weren’t open at five in the morning.”

you quirk a brow, “why were you up at five in the morning? that sounds like torture.”

chris falters slightly. he doesn't want to ruin this little thing he has going on with you. and while he’s not really famous and the chances of you knowing him but not having recognised him are slim, he’s had relationships ruined because of this in the past. so all he says is, “work.”

“yikes,” you make a face. i can barely stand getting up at six to bake a fresh batch of something. can't imagine already being out and about at five.”

he shrugs. “it’s not an everyday thing. once or twice a week usually.”

“oh? what do you do for work?”

“just some boring stuff,” he tells you awkwardly, “nothing like all this.”

you hum in acknowledgment, not wanting to push, before passing off his food. “well, see you tomorrow then, chris?”

he grins and leans on the counter a bit. “mind if i get a name with the baked goods?”

you blink, caught off guard but smiling. “it’s y/n.”

“y/n, huh? i like that. makes the morning run feel a little more personal.”

you shake your head, laughing softly. “don't get too used to the charm. i’m just here to feed you sugar.”

it’s his fourth morning in a row, and by now, you’ve already got a cinnamon roll with extra frosting set aside for when he gets there.

he steps inside just as the sun cuts through the windows, shining on the worn tile. once again: hoodie, sneakers, and the same cap – today not backwards. it’s black, with a yellow and black “B” stitched into it.

you tilt your head slightly as he taps his card. “you ever take that hat off or is it like… surgically attached?"

chris grins, one hand reaching up to adjust its fit. “only when i’m trying to impress someone.”

“and today’s not that day?”

he leans on the counter, smirking. “i’m pacing myself. wouldn't want to peak too early.”

you glance at the logo as the receipt prints. “you a big fan of… whatever that hat is for?”

he laughs under his breath, something flickering behind his eyes. “you could say that.”

you hand him the receipt and slide over the box, still eyeing him a little. “mysterious.

chris takes them with an easy grin. “keeps things interesting.”

on wednesday, you find yourself surprisingly swamped. weekdays you don't get many customers; maybe a max of like forty. so not only are you not mentally prepared to be dealing with this many customers, you’re also not stocked for all of them.

being the only one in store, you have to juggle running back to bake and deal with customers up front. the line has started to die down a bit, but currently, you’ve got someone waiting on macarons. the cookies are baked and cooling, which he can see – part of why he’s so angry. but you don't pipe in filling when they’re fresh out of the oven, and you refuse to change that for this awfully rude stranger.

“you think i have time to wait around all day for some fuckin’ macarons?”

you open your mouth to apologise again, but before you can, a calm voice cuts in.

“hey, man. maybe chill out? she’s doing her best.”

you glance over. chris is leaning one elbow on the pastry case, unfazed. in all this chaos you hadn't even noticed him sneak in.

the customer scowls, “who are you, her boyfriend?”

chris shrugs. “not yet, but she does make a killer cinnamon roll and if my girl isn't in a good mood, the frosting won't be as sweet, so i’d watch your tone.”

the man just rolls his eyes and goes to take a seat at a nearby table.

“chris, hi!” you sigh in relief at the familiar face.

“busy in here today. did you decide to become a fast food restaurant and not tell me?” he jokes.

you scoff. “if that were the case then maybe i’d actually have enough stock for this huge crowd.”

“hope you saved me a cinnamon roll. would hate for someone to have taken the last one.”

“i may not have any on hand right now…” you tell him sheepishly. “but! i’ve got a fresh batch in the oven right now. you willing to wait five minutes?”

“for you? i’d wait forever.”

on day six, chris is late. not awfully so, but a few hours further into the day than usual. you stand behind the counter, attempting to organise sugar packets, but your eyes keep flicking to the window.

it’s not like you’re waiting for him. at least that’s what you tell yourself. but still, you catch yourself scanning faces through the glass, listening for the jingle of the bell that somehow sounds different when he walks in.

he’s just another customer... right? a very cute, very funny customer who apparently thinks cinnamon rolls are better than protein bars.

it’s only when a customer points out a spill on the floor that you normally would’ve noticed, do you address the issue. “god y/n, pull yourself together!” you mutter to yourself, walking over to the spill with your mop. “what is this, high school? jesus, get over yourself.”

you mop up the mess and bring your cleaning supplies to the back. of course it's at that moment that chris walks in. the bell rings and you have a feeling it’s him. you quickly chuck off your plastic gloves and head to the front.

chris is with a friend you haven't seen before. he’s older and dressed in a jersey with that same black and yellow “B.” they’re mid-conversation but chris cuts it off as soon as he sees you.

“you’re late. i almost thought you weren't gonna show up for a little there. i was worried you wouldn't be able to make it without your daily cinnamon roll,” you joke.

“oh please,” he flashes you a cheesy smile, “i could last without my cinnamon rolls. what i’d be worried about is what happens when i don't get my daily dose of y/n.”

his friend rolls his eyes. “you bring me here to flirt or feed me, sturniolo?” which you assume is chris’s last name.

chris grins. “can't it be both?” he turns to you. “do you happen to have something for my friend here that says ‘i’m sorry for forcing you to eat something that isn't unseasoned chicken breast and creatine’?”

you laugh, “i might have some scones that get the message across.”

once you pass off the sweets, they sit in the corner for a few minutes. you try not to eavesdrop, but you catch part of their conversation -- something about "off-season�� and “line changes” and “power plays.” it sounds vaguely athletic, but you brush it off. probably some gym thing. still... his shoulders make more sense now.

that night, you lie in bed, just thinking about chris. you don't want to admit it, but i’s become undeniable at this point; you like chris. a lot.

as you recall your interactions with him, you start to wonder. since you’ve know him, one too many customers have asked for photos or given him a weird look. you’ve thought about it before but never wanted to be invasive. however that night, it seems, curiosity wins.

you grab your phone and search his name.

"chris sturniolo: centre, boston bruins." the search bar fills itself in before you finish typing. there’s a full wikipedia page. stats. highlights. interviews. suddenly , the hat, the hoodie, the friend in a jersey... it all clicks.

you sit back, scrolling through an article that casually mentions a salary you can't even conceptualise. your stomach tightens, not with jealousy, but with something that feels like doubt and disappointment, with a tinge of betrayal. he didn't lie, but he didn't exactly tell you either.

he didn't owe it to you, obviously. but you would’ve liked to think he would tell you. was he trying to keep it a secret? hide who he was? it all sounded like bad news.

you close the tab. whatever. he’s just a guy who likes your cinnamon rolls. and you. you hope. no you don't hope. he doesn't matter. right?

taglist: l @courta13

if you enjoyed this, please reblog!

[bad268]

I’ve been loving you frog house fics

If you have time do you think you could do a fic based on the old cooking streams the boys used to do were the reader is a professional chef/ baker

Maybe it’s a 4v1 challenge for who can make the best food and chat judges

Back-to-Back (P! Frog Boys X Chef! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Youtube

Requested: Clearly (loosely based on the video from Miniminter)

Warnings: some sexual jokes

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1576

Summary: Chef! reader posts a back-to-back cooking video with the Frog Boys.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

“Hi, everybody, and welcome to the video,” You chuckled as the video started. You were standing in your normal kitchen setup with ingredients surrounding you. “We are back with a back-to-back cooking video, and this time, we have Grizzy, BigPuffer, ElasticDroid, and Pezzy!” The group walked in and stood behind you at their own station and cheered around a bit, bringing some hype. “With all back-to-back videos, I will be trying to teach these guys how to cook something.”

“And they won’t be able to see what we’re doing!” Droid added, pointing some finger guns at the camera.

“Yeah, do any of you have tangible cooking experience?” You asked as you smiled nervously.

“Nope,” They all responded happily, which caused you to sigh.

“You all signed contracts, so I cannot be held liable if you get hurt,” You cleared up before deciding to jump straight in. “Okay, boys, whoever is comfortable with a knife, start by cutting the ends off the onion.”

“Gimme the knife,�� Grizzy said, snatching the knife from Puffer’s hand before jokingly threatening him with it. 

“Woah, I’m being harassed over here!” Puffer shouted as he put his hands up in surrender.

“Wait, which end?” Pezzy asked. “An end is subjective with a circle.”

“Ok, Einstein, shut the hell up,” Droid responded immediately, shoving Pezzy a little.

“Hey, be nice over there, guys,” You warned, deciding to ignore most of the bickering with a sign. “This is gonna stress me out. Anyways, once you've cut the ends off, Grizzy, I need you to peel it.”

“With my hands or the peeler?” He responded quickly, looking between the provided utensils you gave them.

“Your hands will be just fine, babe,” You teased with a laugh.

“Can one of you help me?” Grizzy asked the boys quietly, trying not to catch your attention.

“Why do you need help peeling it?” You exclaimed in shock.

“Because I can’t grab it,” Grizzy said back as Pezzy took the onion from his hands.

“There’s no way I should be crying right now,” Droid said, turning away from the camera, “I’m not even touching it!”

“Okay, crybaby,” You chuckled to yourself. “Do any of you know how to dice an onion?”

“Maybe explain it for the viewers?” Puffer offered, taking the knife from Grizzy.

“To put it simply, you cut an onion into small cubes,” You replied, looking straight into the camera with a smile. “Does that help?”

“Perfect, I really understood that,” Puffer said sarcastically.

“You are terrible at explaining,” Droid replied after a beat of silence among you all. “You know what, give me the knife.”

“I don’t know if I trust that,” Pezzy said skeptically as he stepped back and nearly ran into your back. “Shit, sorry.”

“Shut up, and give me the knife. I’m gonna Chef Boyardee this bitch,” Droid said confidently as he took the knife from Puffer and started cutting the onion. Subconsciously, you let out a noise, and that caught his attention. “What was that?”

“The cut you made just sounded wrong,” You replied as you continued dicing your onion.

“That doesn’t look right, Droid,” Grizzy pointed out.

“Well, what the fuck do you think was gonna happen? I live off premade meals and doordash!” Droid shouted in defense. 

“Hey, calm yourselves!” Pezzy tried to interject.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Droid shouted toward Pezzy this time. “I still have the knife!”

“And now you don’t,” Puffer deescalated the situation by grabbing the knife from Droid and holding it above his head, so Droid couldn’t reach it. “No more knife for you.”

“Are you guys done being children?” You asked with a concerned look directed straight at the camera. They all made noises of approval, so you gave them the next step. “Grab your carrots and peel them.”

“I’m trying so hard not to make a sex joke,” Puffer whispered into the microphone.

“I’m going to pretend I did not just hear you sexualize a carrot,” You took a deep breath as you started cutting the carrot. “You’re going to cut it into small circles. Think like a coin.”

“Ok, we got coins of carrot,” Grizzy said nodding at Puffer’s handiwork. “Now what?”

“Puffer, keep cutting the carrots the same way as the onion. Grizzy, Pezzy, or Droid, put the pot on the small hot plate and add a generous layer of olive oil,” You explained. You heard the cutting resume while someone banged on the bottom of the pot for a moment.

“When you say ‘generous,’ are you meaning round up to a dollar generous or Jacksepticeye’s Thankmas generous?” Pezzy asked.

“The amount of generous that the entire bottom of the pot is covered,” You cleared up with a laugh. “Take that how you will.”

“Not the whole bottle, Droid!” Pezzy shouted, grabbing the bottle away from him.

“Now, one of you put the mince in the bowl,” You explained.

“What the hell is mince?” Puffer asked, looking around at the ingredients.

“You Americans,” You muttered before switching your tone, “The ground beef.”

“Ahhh, ok, got it,” Puffer said as Grizzy grabbed the beef and Puffer held the bowl out. 

“Kobe!” Grizzy exclaimed as he threw the mince into the bow. Thankfully, it all made it into the bowl.

“Now you’re going to take your sausage,” You were cut off by all of the boys laughing, causing you to roll your eyes at the camera as you waited for them to stop. “Take the sausage and skin it.”

“Isn’t that a circumcision?” Droid asked Pezzy quietly.

“I didn’t even know sausage had skin,” Pezzy admitted, choosing to ignore Droid for the time being.

“This looks disgusting,” Grizzy gagged as he took the skin off.

“Now, you’re going to take half and smash it into the mince,” You chuckled.

“Can you stop calling it mince? We don’t understand!” Puffer argued.

“I’ll leave you to figure out the rest of the recipe on your own,” You offered, setting the bowl down and looking at the camera.

“Please don’t,” Pezzy chuckled. “We need your guidance.”

“Good, now you’re gonna crack an egg in the bowl.”

“An egg? Are you tryna give us salmonella?” Droid asked while Pezzy cracked the egg.

“I’m so bad at cracking eggs,” Pezzy laughed at himself as he pulled out some shells that landed in the bowl. “Who let me crack this?”

“You just kinda took it,” Puffer laughed as he took the bowl to mix everything. “Ew, tell me why this feels like moisturized testicles.”

“Why do you know what moisturized testicles feel like, Puffer?” You flipped the question back on him.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Puffer shouted as he pulled his hands out of the bowl immediately.

“Moving on, grab the soaked break and smash that into the mixture.”

“Hold up,” Droid shouted, and everyone stopped to look at him, minus you. “Are we making meatloaf?”

“No,” You chuckled.

“Well, what else would we be making that uses this much meat?” Droid asked.

“Is it meatballs? I see pasta,” Grizzy said, pointing at the pile of uncooked pasta.

“If you would just hold your horses and wait until we get to the part, you guys would know that, yes. It is spaghetti and meatballs,” You explained before going into more instructions.

You continued the same back and forth instructions to make the food. It went fairly smoothly, other than the brief food fight among the guys when they decided to throw the pasta at the wall to see if it was cooked. After some intervention, you all finally plated your food, grabbed your plates, and turned around.

“Why are the meatballs so small?” You asked as you looked straight at the tiny meatballs on their plate.

“I told you they should have been bigger!” Puffer shouted as he hit Droid upside the head.

“I told you between a tennis ball and a ping pong ball,” You defended, thinking it was miscommunication. “These look like golf balls!”

“I bet it tastes better, though,” Pezzy said as you all sat around a table where the camera was in front of you. “Do we just swap plates?”

“Yeah, and dig in,” You shrugged as all of you started eating. You started coughing immediately. “What did you do?”

“Yours is delicious,” All of the boys gushed as they kept going back for more.

���No, no, hold on,” You pushed the plate away from them, “What did you guys do to this dish?”

“I think the right question is what didn’t we do,” Puffer countered as they all took a bite from their own plate.

“Why does it taste like nothing?” Grizzy laughed.

“It tastes like nothing and like 50 things all at once,” Pezzy said as he turned around and spit it out in the trash.

“It’s not great, but I wouldn’t spit it out,” Droid directed this comment at Pezzy. “Free food is free food.”

“You cannot pay me enough money to eat a plate of that,” Pezzy said as he pointed at the plate. “I’m going back to your plate. The real chef here knows how to cook.”

“Go figure,” You chuckled before looking back at the camera. “Anyway, guys, thank you all for tuning in for another back-to-back cooking video with Grizzy, BigPuffer, ElasticDroid, and Pezzy. All of their links are down below, so make sure to check them out. Don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe for more content like this. I will see you all next week!”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[vinnieswife]

Baking cookies

Pete dunham x reader

word count: 780

It’s a Saturday afternoon, and you’re in Pete’s flat, a place that usually feels like the inside of a warzone—books and random bits of gear scattered everywhere, a pair of boots by the door that he definitely doesn’t put away. But today, it smells like sugar and vanilla, and Pete, despite his usual indifference to the world, is standing next to you at the kitchen counter, slightly unsure of what to do with the flour in front of him.

“So, uh,” Pete says, scratching the back of his neck, looking at the bowl as if it’s some kind of foreign object. “You sure you want me involved in this? I’m pretty good at burning toast, let alone baking.”

You chuckle, already grabbing a cup of flour. “Don’t worry, Pete. It’ll be fine. I trust you. You’ve got great hands.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, but there’s a soft hint of amusement in his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what everyone says right before they end up with a burnt disaster.”

You laugh, clearly enjoying his mock pessimism. “No, I’m serious. You’ll nail this.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a small smile on his lips as he grabs the measuring cups. “Alright, if this ends in flour everywhere, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal.” You toss him a mischievous grin as you grab the butter. “Now, we need to soften this.”

Pete gives you an exaggerated look. “Soft? It’s butter, love, it’s already soft.”

You stifle a laugh, trying to hold back your grin. “You’re not wrong, but we’re supposed to mash it. Get with it Dunham”

He shrugs, clearly enjoying this little banter, and starts awkwardly pressing on the butter with his hands. “This doesn’t feel right. Am I doing this right? Am I supposed to be mashing it or…?”

You watch as he squishes the butter like it’s some kind of punishment. “I’ve never seen anyone so stressed about butter,” you tease, unable to hide your amusement.

“Yeah, well, I don’t exactly bake cookies for a living. You know, maybe I should’ve just made tea instead.” Pete shoots you a dry look, but you can see the corners of his mouth twitching. He’s trying not to smile, but it’s not working.

You take over the butter-mashing with a grin, and Pete casually leans against the counter, observing you like he’s the judge of some amateur cooking show. “I swear, if I mess this up, I’ll be getting death stares from every baker in existence.”

“You won’t,” you assure him, not looking up from your work. “You’re a natural.”

He snorts. “Natural? With this?” He gestures toward the mound of flour now spilling out of the bowl and onto the counter. “It looks like a crime scene.”

You giggle, shaking your head as you flick some flour at him. “Oh, come on, you’re doing great.”

Pete stares at you with a mock glare, wiping the flour off his shirt. “You just wait. My natural ability to ruin everything will be in full swing any minute now. You’ll see.”

“I’m counting on it,” you tease, adding chocolate chips to the dough.

The timer finally goes off, and you both move to the oven. Pete stands back, looking at the tray like he’s about to defuse a bomb. “This is it. If they explode, it’s on you.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “If they explode, we explode together,” you kissed his cheek lovingly.

With dramatic flair, Pete opens the oven door. You both peer inside, your breath catching for a second as the cookies bake perfectly—maybe a little crispier than you planned, but still, cookies.

Pete looks at you, genuinely surprised. “Well, I’ll be damned. They didn’t turn into charcoal.”

You giggle, grabbing the tray. “See? I knew you could do it.”

He gives you a deadpan stare. “Yeah, sure. I’m basically a professional now.”

You both plop down on the couch, the cookies cooling between you. Pete picks one up cautiously, inspecting it as if it’s a fragile piece of ancient history. “You sure you want me to eat this?”

“You might be surprised. They’re pretty good,” you say with a wink.

He takes a cautious bite, then looks at you with exaggerated seriousness. “You’re right. These are disgusting. I need to eat at least five more to be sure.”

You laugh, leaning against him as he grabs another cookie. “These are practically gourmet.”

He grins, that rare warmth in his eyes now fully visible. “Well, maybe you’re right. But just don’t get used to it. I’m still not going to be your baking buddy.”

You playfully nudge him, watching him finish off the cookie. “You’re the best baking buddy I could ask for. Plus, now we have cookies. What’s not to love?”

Pete glances over at you with that dry smirk you’ve come to love. “Right. And next time, we’re doing nothing involving flour. I’m calling it.”

You laugh and snuggle closer, resting your head against his shoulder. “Deal. But next time, you’re making the tea, so we’re even.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t push your luck.”

You both end up lounging on the couch, cookies in hand, not a care in the world. Maybe Pete’s not a pro at baking, but he’s got the sweetest soft spot for you, and that’s all that matters.

[anonymousewrites]

A Study of the Heart and Brain (Book 4) Chapter One

Father Figure! Sherlock Holmes x Teen! Reader

Chapter One: Victorian Era

Summary: Sherlock Holmes and (Y/N) meet Dr. Watson in the 1800s.

Mouse Note: I love this special since it's so fun! Who else is excited for it? Anyways, welcome back to A Study of the Heart and Brain. I can't believe we're already at the final book in the series! It's crazy. I hope you guys enjoy this and continue to comment so I can see what you guys think. This is sure to be a great book.

Sometime in the 1800s…

            (Y/N) watched Sherlock flog the corpse with interest. Their eyes flicked across each point of contact to determine when and where the bruises were appearing. They needed the data for the experiment they were running with Sherlock. It would determine a great deal in the case they were currently working on (which (Y/N) couldn’t remember since it was fairly boring outside of the experiment portion).

            (Y/N) paused as the door creaked open and glanced to determine who was entering. They recognized one of the pair as Stamford, an old acquaintance of Sherlock. The man next to him was a new face.

            (Y/N) catalogued what they could see in him. Army doctor, Afghanistan. Injured leg. Likely here as a roommate option since Sherlock mentioned it to Stamford earlier.

            “Excuse me,” said Stamford when Sherlock and (Y/N) barely reacted or acknowledged their presence.

            “I do hope we’re not interrupting,” said the doctor.

            Sherlock turned to face him. “You’ve been in Afghanistan, I perceive.”

            “Dr. John Watson, Mr. Sherlock,” said Stamford.

            (Y/N) tossed a cane at John, and he caught it. “Good reflexes,” remarked (Y/N).

            “That’s (Y/N),” said Stamford.

            “He’ll do,” said Sherlock, nodding to (Y/N) who nodded in agreement.

            “I’m sorry,” said John, furrowing his brow.

            “We have a suite of rooms near Regent’s Park,” said (Y/N). “Between all of us, we can afford them better.”

            “Rooms? Who said anything about rooms?” said John.

            “I did. I mentioned it to Stamford this morning that we were in need of a fellow lodger,” said Sherlock. “Now he appears after lunch in the company of a man of military aspect with a tan and a recent injury. Both suggestive of a campaign in Afghanistan and an enforced departure from it.”

            “Not a difficult leap,” said (Y/N).

            “We’ll finalize all the details tomorrow evening,” said Sherlock. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a hanging in Wandsworth, and we would hate for them to start without us.” He pulled on his coat.

            (Y/N) took their purple coat and put it on their grey suit pants, jacket, white button up, and purple vest.

            “A hanging?” said John.

            “We take a professional interest,” said (Y/N). They glanced at him. “He plays the violin, and I join him occasionally.”

            “I also smoke a pipe,” added Sherlock.

            “We presume that’s not a problem,” said (Y/N).

            “Uh, no, well—” John stammered.

            “And you’re clearly acclimatized to never getting to the end of a sentence,” said Sherlock. “We’ll get along splendidly. Tomorrow evening, seven o’clock then.”

            “Oh, and the address is 221B Baker Street,” said (Y/N). “I’m (Y/N) (L/N).”

            “And I’m Sherlock Holmes.”

            And then the pair were out the door.

            “Odd family,” was all John could say.

            “They’re not related,” said Stamford. “But (Y/N) is a Holmes in all but blood by now.”

            John frowned. “They’re not?”

            “Sherlock took (Y/N) in as a ward or something of that nature a year or two ago,” said Stamford.

            “He doesn’t seem like the sort,” said John.

            “No, he doesn’t, does he?” said Stamford. “Sometimes I wonder how and why it’s lasted so long.” He shrugged. “Let me know if you discover why. You’re the who will be living with them.”

l

A few years later…

            “Papers! Papers!”

            (Y/N)’s brow twitched as their thoughts were disturbed by someone yelling about selling newspapers. The carriage stopped, and John leaned his head out the window.

            “How’s the Blue Carbuncle doing?” asked John. He was checking on sales for their latest case.

            “Very popular, Dr. Watson,” assured the seller. “Is there going to be a proper murder next month?”

            I hope so. I need an interesting case, thought (Y/N). They always needed interesting cases.

            John cleared his throat. “I’ll have a word with the criminal classes.”

            “If you wouldn’t mind,” said the seller. He leaned to see past John. “Are those them? Are they in there?”

            Sherlock hit John’s leg, and John grunted. “No, no, not at all. Uh, good day to you.”

            The coach continued forward, but not before the seller called out, “Happy Christmas, Mr. Holmes, (L/N)!”

            (Y/N) was glad once they were back in front of 221 Baker Street. They preferred to be back and getting ready for another case, not outside where people insisted on asking questions and interviewing them. (Y/N) didn’t like the attention or the pestering.

            “Mr. Holmes! (Y/N),” said Mrs. Hudson, opening the door with a huff. “I do wish you’d let me know when you’re planning to come home.”

            “We hardly knew ourselves, Mrs. Hudson,” said Sherlock. “That’s the trouble with dismembered country squires. They’re notoriously difficult to schedule.”

            “Did you catch a murderer?” said one of the “Baker Street Boys,” as they were known, as he picked up their cases and carried them to the flat.

            “Caught the murderer, still looking for the legs,” said Sherlock. “I think we’ll call it a draw.”

            “We’re hired for the first part, not the second,” said (Y/N), popping a hard candy, stained purple, into their mouth.

            “Fair point,” said Sherlock, following them inside.

            “Sherlock Holmes, are you still letting them eat those sweets instead of proper food?” said Mrs. Hudson, putting her hands on her hips.

            “They are at least two meals a day while we were away,” said Sherlock. For all the negligence he gave his own health and wellbeing, he wouldn’t allow it in (Y/N). They were his child, and he took care of them.

            Mrs. Hudson nodded, satisfied. She closed the door as John walked in last. “And I see you’ve published another of your stories, Dr. Watson.”

            “Yes, did you enjoy it?” said John.

            “No,” said Mrs. Hudson decisively.

            “Oh!” said John, surprised.

            “I never enjoy them,” continued Mrs. Hudson.

            “Why not?” said John.

            “Well, I never say anything, do I?” she said. “According to you, I just show people up the stairs and serve your breakfasts.”

            John hung up his coat beside (Y/N) and Sherlock’s cloaks. “Well, within the narrative, that is, broadly speaking, your function.”

            “My what?!” exclaimed Mr. Hudson.

            “Don’t feel singled out, Mrs. Hudson,” said Sherlock. “I’m hardly in the dog one.”

            “Neither am I,” added (Y/N).

            “The dog one?” repeated John.

            “I’m your landlady, not a plot device,” said Mrs. Hudson crossly.

            “Maybe it was the hound?” said (Y/N).

            “Do you mean The Hound of the Bakservilles?” said John, exasperated.

            “And you make the room so drab and dingy,” lamented Mrs. Hudson.

            “Oh, blame it on the illustrator. He’s out of control!” huffed John. “I had to grow this moustache just so people would recognize me.”

            He grumbled all the way upstairs about it, which (Y/N) and Sherlock avoided by moving into the sitting room and drawing back the curtains to let in light. They knew the woman standing in the room was patiently waiting for the third of their party to arrive (which spelt trouble for him).

            “Good lord!” exclaimed John as he entered the room. The woman stood in black with a veil, and she seemed ghastly and ghostly in the sunlight.

            “Mrs. Hudson, there is a woman in my sitting room!” called Sherlock downstairs. He knew who it was, but he preferred to keep people out of his and (Y/N)’s apartment when they weren’t home (after him, Sherlock wanted (Y/N) kept safer than ever). “Is it intentional?”

            “She’s a client,” responded Mrs. Hudson. “Said you were out, insisted on waiting.”

            “Would you, uh, care to sit down?” said John, offering a seat.

            You would think he would at least recognize the perfume, thought (Y/N), flopping down on the couch (John reprimanded them that it was “impolite” to sit as they did, but they erased that knowledge as soon as he gave them the lecture the tenth time because it had no meaning).

            “Didn’t you ask her what she wanted?” said Sherlock.

            “You ask her!” retorted Mrs. Hudson.

            “Why didn’t you ask her?”

            “How could I? What with me not talking and everything!”

            “For God’s sake, give her some lines, she’s perfectly capable of starving us,” said Sherlock to John. Then, he faced the “client” completely. “This is my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson. That’s (Y/N), my ward. You may speak freely in front of both as (Y/N) is almost as intelligent as me—”

            (Y/N)’s gaze flicked up at the frank praise, and Sherlock was pleased by the slight smile that flitted across their face.

            “—and John barely understands a word,” said Sherlock.

            “Holmes,” hissed John.

            “However, before you do, allow me to make some trifling observations,” said Sherlock. He circled the woman. “You have an impish sense of humor, which currently you are deploying to ease a degree of personal anguish. (Y/N), continue.”

            “You recently married a man of a kindly disposition who has been spending quick some time apart from you,” said (Y/N), quick on the uptake. “He keeps the company of two questionable individuals who may lack some basic morals. You came here as a last resort in the hope that reconciliation may still be possible.”

            “Good lord, Holmes, (Y/N)!” said John, incredulous. He had seen them do quite a bit, but this was extraordinarily detailed compared to even their best deductions.

            “All of this is, of course, perfectly evident from your perfume,” said Sherlock, and (Y/N) nodded.

            “Her perfume?” repeated John.

            “Yes, her perfume, which brings insight to us and disaster to you,” said Sherlock.

            “How so?” said John.

            “Because we recognized it and you didn’t,” said (Y/N) while Sherlock reached up and unpinned the veil. It fell.

            “Mary!” exclaimed John.

            “John,” said Mary.

            “Why in God’s name are you pretending to be a client?” said John.

            “I thought we just explained that,” said (Y/N), furrowing their brow.

            “Because I could think of no other way to see my husband,” said Mary. She smiled, but it barely reached her eyes. “Husband.”

            (Y/N) looked at John as he tensed, and for all their lack of understanding (or interest in) feelings, they knew a marital dispute was incoming.

l

            They had been right as usual.

            “It was an affair of international intrigue,” said John.

            “It was a murdered country squire,” said Mary, hands on her hips.

            Behind them, Sherlock was focused on his violin, and (Y/N) had moved to sit with him because being in the thick of a marital dispute was not enjoyable at all.

            “Nevertheless, it was pressing!” said John.

            (Y/N) sighed and looked at Sherlock, who just shrugged. There was no stopping this since they were both terrible with people.

            “I don’t mind you going, my darling,” said Mary. “I mind you leaving me behind.”

            “But what could you do?” said John.

            “Oh, what do you do?” snapped Mary. “Except wander around, taking notes, looking surprised.”

            Mary wouldn’t be a terrible addition; she seems smarter than the average person, if only by a little. Not many could reach (Y/N) and Sherlock’s levels of intelligence.

            “Enough!” said Sherlock, putting his violin down. “The stage is set. The curtain rises. We are ready to begin.”

            Finally, thought (Y/N), sitting up straighter and unwrapping a candy.

            “Begin what?” said Mary.

            “Sometimes to solve a case, one must first solve another,” said Sherlock.

            “We have a case?” said John.

            “And old one, very old,” said Sherlock. “I shall have to go deep.”

            “Deep into what?” said (Y/N), tilting their head.

            Sherlock just stared into space. “Myself.” He blinked and turned to the door. “Lestrade, do stop loitering by the door and come in.”

            Lestrade pushed the door open. “How’d you know it was me?”

            “Regulation tread,” said (Y/N), gesturing to his shoes. “Lighter than Jones, heavier than Gregson.”

            “Oh, yeah, I just came up,” said Lestrade as (Y/N) and Sherlock took their seats. “Mrs. Hudson didn’t seem to be talking.”

            “I fear she has branched into literary criticism by means of satire,” said Sherlock. “It is a distressing trend in the modern landlady. What brings you here in your off-duty hours?”

            “How do you know I’m off-duty?” said Lestrade, glancing around.

            “Well, since your arrival, you’ve address over forty percent of your remarks to my decanter,” said Sherlock. “Watson, give the Inspector what he so clearly wants.”

            “So, Lestrade, what can we do for you?” said John as he poured a drink.

            “Oh, I’m not here on business, I just thought I’d drop by,” said Lestrade.

            “Social call?” said (Y/N), cocking their head. They didn’t believe that, and they were carefully watching Lestrade.

            “Of course, just to wish you the compliments of the season,” said Lestrade. “Happy Christmas.”

            “Happy Christmas,” said everyone in awkward response.

            “Thank god that’s over,” said Sherlock. “Now, Inspector, what strange happening compels you to our door but embarrasses you to relate?”

            “Who said anything happened?” said Lestrade.

            “You did,” said (Y/N). “By every means short of actual speech.”

            Sherlock could have smirked. That was his kid, seeing what others didn’t.

            “And, Dad, you missed one thing,” said (Y/N).

            “Go on,” said Sherlock.

            “He didn’t just want a drink; he needed one.” (Y/N)’s sharp, snakelike gaze snapped across Lestrade’s appearance. “He’s afraid.

            Sherlock actually did smile this time. “You’re learning.” Every day, his child proved their intelligence and brilliance. “Watson, restore the courage of Scotland Yard. Inspector, do sit down.” They had a case.

Taglist:

@stilesstilinskiforlife-blog

@im-making-an-effort

@ilse235

@schrodingers-intelligence

@awsedrftgyhujikol

@lxserthxngzzz

@forever1313

@mentallyunstablemanlover

@roo024

[shipmistress9]

Made to Order

Pairing: Riorgail

Rating: Teen

Summary: Xaden Riorson owns a bakery specialised on wedding cakes. He's good at his job, always has an eye for details and with a sixth sense for what it is his customers are looking for. But when a woman clearly not happy with the upcoming wedding breeezes into his shop (and his life), he has a hard time staying professional.

AN:This all started with the question what job Xaden might have in a modern AU, with how little we know about him. Only that he likes chocolate cake and Violet, really. My hazy brain then suggested that he's a baker for flowery wedding cakes. 😂😂 From there... well, you see what happened.

My rough plan is for this to have three chapters. It could get longer, though, we'll seen 😅

Shoutout to @taumoebaa for the delightful inspiration and support. 😘

(AO3)

. o O o .

It’s close to 4pm, my closing time for the shop, when the woman storms in. I get a brief flash of silvery hair and sparks of blue blazing in her hazel eyes before she all but slams her hands onto my counter. 

“I need a wedding cake.”

I blink. Usually, people aren’t this angry when they come into my shop. But at least anger is an emotion I have enough personal experience with to not get agitated about her. She’s most likely not angry at me, how could she when we never met, so I’ll just have to diffuse it to work with her. 

I take a moment to look at her with a raised eyebrow, give her time to reflect, then take a longer look around, at all the little tables with fake wedding cakes for demonstration, at the chill counter between us with a few taste samples that are left from other customers, at the pictures on the walls of more wedding cakes, and the folder right next to her hands with even more options. “Yeah, that’s usually why people come to me,” I say, not holding back on the sarcasm. If she is ignoring all rules of propriety here, I don’t need to stick to those, either. 

Now, it is she who blinks. She blinks again, then takes a deep breath, all anger visibly flowing out of her. “I’m sorry,” she sighs, her eyes closed. “It’s been… a rough day. I need a wedding cake. The wedding’s in about two months already, and I wanted to ask whether you still have time in your schedule to take my order.” 

I purse my lips, my eyes pulling together. That explains her bad mood, I guess. I bet all other bakeries in town rejected her request before she even finished it. And I don’t even need to check my book, I know I don’t really have time for that, either. But…

I take in her appearance, that spark of desperation in her eyes and the weight pressing down her shoulders. I’ve always been an incredible judge of character, and working as a baker specialised on wedding cakes also gave me some experience with certain kinds of customers. There are the loving couples coming in together to pick the cake for their special day. Then there are the brides coming in with one or more of their bridesmaids, all giggly and excited. And then there are women like her, tired, disappointed, or exhausted brides-to-be on their own, usually because their partners aren’t interested in all the planning that goes into a wedding and cancelled their appointment, in most cases on a short notice. In her case now, I’d also guess her partner was meant to order the wedding cake earlier but forgot about it, and now she has to somehow make up for their mistake. 

“I don’t really have the capacity for a big cake anymore.” I hold up my hand as her shoulders slump and she’s about to turn and leave. “But I could squeeze in something extra if it doesn’t have to be too elaborate?” I pity her. If her partner is already letting her down before the wedding, then I doubt their marriage will last all that long. So maybe I can at least help make her enjoy her wedding day. 

The woman lets out a long relieved sigh. “Thank you! You’re absolutely saving my life here. And no, it doesn’t have to be too elaborate.” She scoffs, wrinkling her nose. Maybe she should call it off altogether if she already knows they’re not the right partner for her. “Just let me know what would be possible and we can work from there?” She throws me a hopeful smile—and something inside me cracks.

I blink again, at the spark of… of something shining in her eyes, something that momentarily wipes my mind clear of all thoughts. 

“Uh, sure!” I clear my throat, fighting to clear my thoughts as well. What the..? “I, uh, I’ll see how much time I can free for this and then let you know? So we can pin down the details?”

“That would be amazing.” Now, she’s positively beaming at me. “Can I come in tomorrow again?” She throws a glance at her watch. “Around noon? Or is that too soon?”

My heart’s racing in my chest at the sight of her excitement, and I fail miserably at reining it in again. “Yeah,” I say, lamely. “Tomorrow would work.”

“Great!” She almost seems to radiate as she looks at me, all happy and joyous. “See you tomorrow then.” She pivots and sweeps out of my shop like a fresh spring breeze, leaving me baffled and in pieces.

. o O o .

Later that night, I lie in my bed and still can’t get her out of my mind. Which is ridiculous. I don’t know anything about her, don’t even know her name, for Dunne’s sake. 

And yet, I keep remembering how lovely her hair was, dark brown at the top and fading into almost metallic silver halfway down where it fell down her back. Shimmering in the afternoon light falling through the windows at my shop. I can’t forget how fierce her eyes were, so full of emotions, good and bad ones alike. I bet she never does things only half-heartedly. I can’t stop thinking about her body, so small next to mine. She’d probably barely reach my collarbone if she were to stand right in front of me. Without my help, my mind wonders about how soft she would feel if I were to run my hands along her curvy—

No!

I tear my eyes open, breathing heavily as I stare at the ceiling. 

No, I can’t—mustn’t—think about her like that. Because however brief our encounter was, there is one thing I do know about her. 

And that is that she’s getting married in about two months.

Next Chapter

[neepsandnettles]

Notice the owl theme I have going so far?

I’m in two DnD podcasts at the moment. How that happened *gestures wildly* I have no clue, yet here I am. This character is from the Tales of Wyrd podcast (which can be found on Spotify). For context, my name irl is Alora… and I was physically incapable of passing up the opportunity for an owl pun. Meet OWLora, the circle of brew druid owlin baker. They are a city bird who has been thrust into the path of adventure against their will and has no idea how to get home. I haven’t truly had an opportunity to share my writing until now. Without further ado… I present their backstory.

Gilded Bluebells

Best friends Owlora and Pennyfarthing, or Penny, were mentored under the same baking master. During their training, Owlora grew an interest in breads, herbs, and spices. They would spend hours pouring over apothecary textbooks, herbology tomes, and bread recipes both traditional and trending. Penny became devoted to the dream of a cozy bakery all her own. She was so passionate in her ideas and designs that Owlora decided they wanted to aid in bringing her dream into reality. They helped Penny build and open Penny Feathers Pastries. It took time and patience for the townsfolk to warm up to the notion of a new cafe run by two very green youngsters. Eventually, the combined expertise of Owlora and charisma of Penny won them over. The bakery was a success.

In the wee small hours of the morning on the one year anniversary of its grand opening, Owlora was helping to unload an extra large order of ingredients, fresh produce, party decorations, and special edible embellishments in preparation for the great celebration planned for later that day. As the last parcels were placed around the kitchen and empty barrels returned to the cart, Owlora went to check their invoice to ensure everything was in place. A small package of edible gold leaf was missing. The delivery drivers had gone to grab a bite of breakfast before they began their long trek back to a neighboring town. Owlora, being acutely aware of how little time they had before eager regulars and patrons alike gathered for the grand party, decided to check inside the cart for the missing item. After a fashion, they came upon it in a back corner.

As they bent down, something jostled the wagon suddenly and an inopportunely stacked heavy oak barrel teetered and came crashing down on top of Owlora. They were knocked unconscious and lay on the floor, covered by a cloth that had fallen over them. When they returned, the drivers assumed that since Owlora wasn’t waiting for them that the invoice was correct with all items accounted for, and they had gone to attend to preparations. They had no inclination to check the back of their cart before leaving. They drove off, and it was many hours before Owlora regained consciousness. The package of edible gold leaf was still clasped in their hand as they awoke dazed and confused. They wandered out of the cart into unfamiliar city streets. As they looked about, they couldn’t spot the delivery team. Panic set in and they began a frantic search, rushing to and fro trying to find the drivers or the depot they came from. It was still early afternoon. Not many were out in the streets, not in this part of the city at least. The few who were took an interest in the bewildered owlin, much to Owlora’s misfortune. A trio of local thieves guild members who had come into town for ale and to check the bulletin boards for work, perked up when they realized Owlora was a professional baker. They listened intently and nodded sympathetically as Owlora told them of their plight. At length, they offered to escort the owlin back to their home. Owlora, being too bewildered to think clearly or beyond their own anxiety, gratefully went with them. The trio had no intention of returning them to their home. They were tired of overcooked meat and stale bread; they wanted a proper camp cook.

Days crawled on. Home seemed farther and farther away. Owlora came to realize they had been kidnapped. Making an escape seem increasingly less feasible as the days crawled into months. They had no idea where they were as their companions made sure Owlora never saw a map. Owlora slowly reached a new resolve; they had to get away, directions be damned. For six months, they cooked the trio’s meals and observed everything. At last, their opportunity came. On this particular afternoon, the party stopped on the edge of the woods. There was a particularly lucrative job in a nearby town. The trio went off leaving Owlora to set up camp. As per usual, Owlora was left to start supper all on their own. As they cleared away brush to lay down the bed rolls, they came across a patch of bluebell flowers. An idea began to form. They plucked the flowers from the ground, crushing them up into a smooth paste. As the paste dried in the sunlight, Owlora found their bearings. As they scanned the horizon, they decided their best course was to head for the mountain range to the north. The trio often lamented their lack of skill with climbing. At the very least, it could buy Owlora time to make a run for it if it came to it. Once the bluebell paste became a powder, they added it to the main stew for that evening. A smaller portion was kept to the side without the addition of powder. That night, the trio returned triumphant. Owlora sat silently just outside the reach of the bonfire light as they always did, eating the safe portion of stew. The trio ate, paying no mind to their watchful cook.

By and by, the poison began to take effect and they all doubled over in pain. Enough to incapacitate, but not kill them. Summoning their courage and best acting they could muster, Owlora began to fuss over them. When the trio began to accuse Owlora of poisoning them, the owlin pointed to their own nearly empty bowl and reminded the three that they had eaten the stew as well and felt nothing. In a cunning and risky gamble, Owlora began to ask about their job. They had heard the trio talking days earlier of how other thieves guild members had it out for them for getting this job. There were some who thought the trio had overstepped their status in the guild… and did not look kindly on them for it. Owlora began to plant an idea in their heads of a rival guild member attempting to assassinate them and take their hard earned bounty. As the trio fumed between dry heaves and intense stomach cramps, Owlora suggested that they go to a farm they had passed earlier that day to get help from a healer or a doctor. The trio were in no position to object, let alone think. Owlora ran off into the darkness pretending to get help. Once well outside eyesight and ear shot, they flew off into the night for a couple miles to hide their trail. They had no idea where they landed and they didn’t care. Their main concern was to buy time for them to get a good distance away and closer to the mountains before the trio recovered from their food poisoning.

Wandering lost and alone, they made their way north all the while avoiding large towns for fear of running into members of the thieves guild who might alert the trio to their whereabouts. Their desperation to find their home and return to their friend grows exponentially day by day.

[qnewsau]

Out surfer Tyler Wright goes for gold 15,000 km from Paris

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/out-surfer-tyler-wright-goes-for-gold-15000-km-from-paris/

Out surfer Tyler Wright goes for gold 15,000 km from Paris

Australian pro surfer Tyler Wright has won her first Olympic heat on Sunday morning… however she’s not anywhere near Paris.

Tyler is 15,000 kilometres away in Tahiti, the South Pacific archipelago in French Polynesia which is hosting the surfing events during the Games.

Surfing professionally since age 14, Paris is Tyler’s first Olympics. She’s one of four Aussies representing us. The Paris Games is only the second time her sport, surfing, has been included.

On Sunday morning (AEST), the Newcastle-based surfer won her opening round heat and will progress to the next in her quest to win a medal.

Tyler Wright is world champion in male-dominated sport

Tyler Wright is an Australian surfing superstar, winning back-to-back World Surf League titles in 2016 and 2017. She took time away from her sport while suffering chronic illness, before returning in 2021.

The Newcastle-based athlete has described her sport as male-dominated and a “sausage-fest”.

“As a young girl becoming a woman in surfing, 12 years ago, it was an era of ‘sex sells’, ‘We want sexy, straight, blonde, female surfers,’” she previously told The Sydney Morning Herald.

“I was clearly not that. I’m built like an athlete, I’m not straight, I don’t have blonde hair.

“While men were allowed to go out and be athletes – and get paid for doing it – a lot of women weren’t.

“The minute equal pay came to the World Surf League, some of the hardest-working women went from being non-sponsored and non-backed to high world rankings. If you invest in women, you’ll see them excel.”

Tyler is married to her wife Lili

Tyler Wright is proudly bisexual – she’s surfed before with a progress pride flag on her wetsuit – and married her wife, Lilli Baker in November 2022.

“Lilli is just a vibe,” the Newcastle surfer told The Sydney Morning Herald. “She was working in a cafe in Newcastle when I was in town for a contest [in 2021].

“I felt so respected and appreciated [by her]. Eventually, I asked her out, she said yes and here we are.

“There’s an ease and openness. There’s genuineness, love, respect and appreciation. Being with someone who encourages you to be more you is always a good time.”

Tyler Wright is one of 175 LGBTQIA+ athletes competing in the Paris 2024 Olympic Games, according to news website Outsports.

Representing Australia on that list alongside Tyler are at least half of the Matildas Olympic squad.

Across all countries, there’s also a record number of out and proud male Olympians participating this year.

The Paris Olympic Games are screening in Australia on Channel 9, 9now and Stan Sport.

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[siennaxcastillo]

Sienna leaned in slightly, lips curving into a slow, conspiratorial smile. “Oh, unexpected panic in public is definitely a vibe. Not quite brooding Byronic hero, but honestly? Way more relatable. Besides, Heathcliff could never rock a bee-induced spiral and charm his way through it like you did.” She tilted her head, clearly delighted. “Okay, now I have to meet this Pride and Prejudice paperback warrior. I’m sensing kindred spirit energy. I’ll bring my sass, my strongest Darcy critiques, and yes—the butterscotch almond bars. Bribery is the backbone of any solid book club hierarchy, after all. Especially if I get to win your favour by doing it.”

Her grin turned wicked. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave the bee wrangling to the professionals. But I do reserve the right to dramatically gasp and fan myself if someone defends Tom Buchanan or says Juliet had ‘good instincts.’ Just so we’re clear.”

Sienna toyed with the rim of her mug before locking eyes with him. “Baker Street at seven. Got it. You’re either going to regret giving me that address or thank me for bringing a little controlled literary chaos to your already unhinged Thursdays. Either way... I promise to be very aesthetically on-brand.”

Rayan grins, amused by her teasing. "Me? A brand? I guess 'unexpected panic in public' is one way to make an impression. Not quite the moody Heathcliff vibe I was going for with my life choices." He imagines Sienna at their chaotic book club and feels surprisingly excited about it. "God, our Pride and Prejudice lady would absolutely form an alliance with you in ten seconds flat. She nearly took someone's eye out with her paperback when they suggested Darcy wasn't that bad." The thought of orchestrated bee encounters makes him laugh and cringe simultaneously. "Please no insect ambushes, those little demons follow me enough as it is. Though I admit watching Gloria threaten people with knitting needles during heated Gatsby debates is worth the price of admission alone." He leans forward, genuinely interested in her literary opinions. "Bring those butterscotch bars and you'll instantly outrank everyone there. We meet Thursdays at seven at my shop on Baker Street. Fair warning though, it gets wild. Last month someone suggested Romeo and Juliet were mature adults making reasonable decisions and nearly started a fistfight." He smiles, already picturing her fitting right in with their bookish chaos. "And yes, dramatic Victorian fan usage is strongly encouraged. Bonus points if you use it to emphasize particularly scorching literary takes."

[sofiaispunk]

The Bakery Crush - PART (1/2)

Joel Miller x Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

summary: Just two fools clearly in love, pining over each other because ... well, they are fools.

words: 3kish

warnings: angst, JEALOUSY, Joel being a fool, smut, pining, age gap, bad puns, heartbreak, 18+

You enjoyed the little things in Jackson. The little fairy lights that brighten up the street and making Jackson almost feel like a magical wonderland, the vibrant colors of the changing leaves in autumn, the sound of the flowing water from the nearby river, but what you enjoyed the most was the smell of freshly baked bread from your little bakery on the corner in Mainstreet.

Shortly after arriving in Jackson Maria assigned, you to baking duty, since you were a professional baker before the outbreak, and showed you to your new working place.

It was a charming little bakery that had been abandoned for years but as you peered through the dusty windows, you immediately saw the potential. 

Tommy, Maria’s husband, helped you turn the rusty shop into your dream bakery. You spent countless hours painting the walls a warm shade of yellow, installing new cabinets and countertops, and laying down fresh tiles.

You were determined to make the bakery stand out, a place with a warm atmosphere where everybody felt welcomed. You even found old wooden crates to use as shelves, hung vintage baking utensils on the walls, and added some decorative flowers for the ambiance.

That was a year ago and since then your bakery has become the favorite place of the residents of Jackson and Jackson became your home.

-

You were busy kneading a batch of dough when you heard the familiar jingle of the bakery's bell. 

"Hey there, Ellie!" you greeted her with a smile. "How was school today?"

"It was fine," she replied, shrugging off her backpack. "But you know what would make it better? A freshly baked blueberry scone."

You chuckled. "You never change, do you? One blueberry scone for my favorite customer coming right up."

As you handed her a warm scone on a napkin, Ellie grinned mischievously. "Thanks, (y/n). This looks berry delicious!”

You couldn't help but chuckle at her pun. "That's a good one, Ellie. You really do have a way with words."

She grinned. "Thanks, I try. I mean, it's not like I'm rolling in dough like you are." She waggled her eyebrows at you and took another bite of the scone.

You laughed lightly, continuing to work on your dough, "You're too much, Ellie. But you always make me smile, that’s why you my favorite, y‘ know."

"Well, that's what I'm here for," she said with a grin. "To brighten up your day and eat all your delicious scones."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "You're lucky I like you, kid."

Ellie finished up the last of her scone and sighed contentedly. "Man, that hit the spot. I don't know how you do it, really. Your scones are always so flavorful and yummy."

"It's all about using the best ingredients and putting my secret ingredient in … love." You answered playfully, slightly cringing at your cheesy answer.

Ellie just groaned silently but nodded. "Well, it shows. You know, you really raisin the bar when it comes to baked goods."

Now it was your turn to groan. "That one was a bit of a stretch, Ellie."

"Hey, I can't help it. I'm on a roll today."

You both laughed as she grabbed her backpack and headed over to you to give you a small hug and a quick kiss on your cheek "Thanks for the scone. I’m off to Dina’s. See you, tomorrow.”

And with that Ellie rushed her way towards the exit.

"Take care, Ellie," you called after her with a smile. "And keep those puns coming, kid."

-

It was getting late and you were closing the store front for the day. You packed up the leftover treats from the bakery and couldn't help but think that maybe Joel would want to enjoy them. So you gathered up some pretzel pieces, bread, two scones that Ellie loves, and some croissants and made your way to Joel's house.

The evening sky painted in different hues of orange and pink. The streets were quiet as most people had retired for the night. You walked leisurely towards Joel's house, taking in the sights and sounds of the town you had grown to love.

When you reached the house, you knocked on the door and waited. Ellie opened the door with a surprised look on her face.

"Hey, Ellie. Sorry to drop by so late. I thought maybe you and Joel would want to have some of these leftover treats," you said, holding up the bag of the baked goods.

Ellie smiled, "Of course we would. You know he can never resist them, and neither can I. Come on in."

As you followed Ellie to the kitchen, you couldn't help but notice how cozy and warm their home was. The living room was dimly lit, and the only source of light came from the candles on the coffee table.

“Joel's not home yet, though.“ She said while tearing up a piece of croissant, “I don't know where he is, and it's kind of weird because he's never out this late."

Your eyebrows furrowed with concern. "Really? That's strange. Do you want me to stay with you until he gets back?"

Ellie shook her head. "No, that's okay. I'm sure he's just caught up with something. Thanks for the offer, though."

You nodded and headed over to the door, "Sure, no problem. Let me know if you need anything, okay kiddo?"

Ellie nodded and bid you goodnight and you made your way home, in desperate need of a warm shower after a long day at work. 

-

You stood under the warm shower, the water cascading down your body, the stream slowly relaxing your muscles, allowing yourself to let your mind wander. Thoughts of Joel flooded your mind. You couldn't help but think about his chiseled physique and his strong, defined features. His nose, perfectly carved, led down to his plush lips that always seemed to be turned down in a permanent scowl. 

But then, there was his smile. The one that could light up an entire room, the one that made your heart skip a beat. The way his face changed, softening, and becoming almost boyish, when he talked to Ellie. His soft brown eyes crinkling with laughter every time Ellie tells one of her many jokes. It was like seeing a completely different side of him, that almost felt like was just reserved for you and Ellie.

You let your soapy hands glide over your body pretending they were his big, calloused ones exploring your body. Steam filled the bathroom as your moans and whimpers echoed though the small room. 

You drew tight circles on your most aching part while imagining the way his broad shoulders would feel under your hands, and his strong thick fingers, that always seemed to be working on something, replacing yours. His lips sucking and licking on every part of your body, consuming you.

"Joel,” you let out a final moan, your voice not much above a whisper, as you reached your peak, your walls clenching around nothing.

The water started to cool as you tried to catch your breath, bringing you back to reality. You took a deep breath and stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel. You knew you needed to push these thoughts aside, but a part of you couldn't help but think about Joel and wonder where he could be at this hour. You just prayed that he was okay.

-

The next morning, while you were getting ready to open the bakery, you noticed Joel and Ellie walking in. To your surprise Joel was carrying a bouquet of flowers and a bag of coffee beans, which caught you off guard.

"Good morning, (y/n)!" Ellie chirped, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Morning, Ellie. Morning, Joel. What brings you guys in today?" you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Joel smiled warmly. "I just wanted to say thank you for the bread and scones yesterday. They were delicious. And I thought you might like these flowers and coffee beans as a small token of my appreciation."

Your felt your heartbeat race as he handed you the small bouquet of wildflowers. "Thank you, Joel. That's very thoughtful of you."

Ellie nudged you with her elbow, a sly grin on her face. "Looks like somebody's got a secret admirer… well, not so secret," she teased.

"Ellie, please. That’s enough" Joel gave Ellie a stern look. Ellie just shrugged innocently in return and skipped off to the display case, leaving you alone with Joel.

"Listen, I don't want to keep you from your work. I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate what you do for me and especially for Ellie.  And, well, if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

“Thank you, that means a lot, Joel” you blushed slightly.

“Anytime, darlin’,” he placed his warm hand on yours and you felt a flutter in your stomach at the contact of his skin.

As if reading your mind, Ellie sauntered back over, a chocolate croissant in hand. "What's going on over here? Are you two making googly eyes at each other?"

Joel laughed. "No, Ellie. She and I were just having a friendly conversation."

But Ellie wasn't convinced. "Uh-huh. Sure, you were. Well, I'm going to go enjoy this delicious croissant. You two keep doing your thing."

As she walked away, Joel turned back to you with a warm smile. "Don't mind her, darlin´. She's just teasing. But, really, thank you again for everything."

As Joel and Ellie were about to leave, Ellie turned to you, "I almost forgot to ask you if you wanna come to the community hall tonight and watch a movie with us?"

"Really? You want lil’ old me to come with you?" you teased.

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Duh. We wouldn't have asked if we didn't want you to come. We're watching this old western movie that Joel loves. You know, to keep up with his cowboy persona."

Joel chuckled. "Ellie, you know I'm not a real cowboy. But, yes, we would love it if you came. “

You grinned. "I would love to come. And I'll bring some blueberry scones."

Ellie's eyes lit up. "Yes! I knew you would say that. Those are my favorites."

-

You made your way to the community hall, the twinkle lights hanging above the entrance, casting a warm and inviting glow. The hall itself was a modest, single-story building with wooden walls and a sloping roof. Overall it was a cozy space and pretty much the center point of your little community.

As you entered the hall, you were greeted by Tommy and Maria , who were standing by the door, handing out programs for the evening's event. They both smiled and greeted you warmly.

"Hey there, (y/n)!" Tommy said. "Glad you could make it."

Maria chimed in. "Yes, we're all excited for the movie tonight. Have you seen it before?"

You shook your head. "No, I haven't. But I've heard good things. Ellie seemed excided."

You made some small talk about the movie and the bakery before you spotted Ellie and Joel sitting in the front row. You made your way over to them, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation.

"Hey, guys," you said, sitting down next to them. "Looks like we got good seats."

Ellie grinned. "Of course, we did. Dad always gets here early to get the best spot."

Joel chuckled. "That's right. Gotta be prepared."

Joel was holding a big bag of popcorn and handed it over to you, your fingers barely touching, sending shivers down your entire body. "’M glad you could make it.” he whispered into your ear. You felt his breath lightly tickling your earlobe.

"Oh, I have a small favor," Ellie exclaimed, turning back to you, causing you to abruptly snap out of your trance. 

"Dina's birthday is next week. Do you think you could make her a cake?" Ellie asked shyly. “Only if you want of course and only if you have enough spare ingredients. I know it’s a lot to ask from you but Dina is not just any friend … well…  she is my friend of course but she is my best friend and special and I want to do something extra special for her. I am sorry, just forget I said anything. “ Ellie was visibly distressed.

You smiled and put a reassuring hand on her arm to stop her rambling. "Of course I can. What kind of cake were you thinking about?"

Ellie's eyes sparkled with excitement. "She loves chocolate. And... wait for it... peanut butter."

You laughed. "Well, it sounds like we'll have to come up with something extra special for her then."

Ellie hugged you tightly and you couldn’t help but feel so much adoration for the girl. In the short timespan you knew each other she crawled her way into your heart and became part of your family.

Ellie nudged you. "Oh and look, there's Karen and her grandkids. She's been raving about your cinnamon rolls all week." 

You looked around the hall and were surprised to see how many people had shown up for the movie night. There were families with kids, elderly couples, and even a few teenagers.

You smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. Maybe I'll make some for the next movie night."

The lights dimmed and the movie began, Joel and Ellie sat on either side of you, munching on popcorn and occasionally making side comments about the movie. You were immediately drawn into the Western that was playing, with its sweeping landscapes and rugged cowboys which kind of reminded you of Joel.

About halfway through the movie, a woman sat down next to Joel and began talking to him, completely ignoring the fact that you were in the middle of a film. Ellie let out an annoyed huff and shushed her, but the woman didn't seem to get the message.

You turned to Ellie and gave her a gentle nudge. "Hey, now. Let's not be rude," you whispered.

“She’s the one being rude. “Ellie rolled her eyes but quieted down and turned her attention back to the movie.

You on the other hand found yourself growing more and more distracted by the conversation between the woman and Joel. They laughed and chatted, and Joel seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her company. 

Your curiosity was piqued, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Who is that woman? How do they know each other? Did he invite her to watch the movie with him? You tried to focus on the movie, but every time the woman laughed, your attention was drawn back to their conversation.

 Your thoughts didn’t seem to quiet down and raced through your mind, and you found yourself feeling increasingly agitated. At the corner of your eye stole a glance at Ellie, who was engrossed in the movie. 

You strained your ears to catch snippets of the conversation between Joel and the woman and immediately noticed the flirtatious undertones in their banter. The woman was playing with her hair, and Joel kept stealing glances at her. You felt a knot forming in your stomach as you watched them. 

At one point, you heard the woman mention something about a rodeo, and Joel's face lit up with a smile. "Oh, you were a natural on that bull," he whispered, chuckling.

The woman grinned. "Yeah, until I fell off and almost broke my arm," she replied, playfully punching Joel in the arm.

Then, the woman leaned in close to Joel and whispered something in his ear. You couldn't hear what she said, but Joel's eyes widened, and he let out a low chuckle.

She leaned back in her seat. "What do you say, cowboy?" she asked, winking at him.

The credits rolled and the lights came on, and you quickly stood up and you couldn’t wait to get out of there. You couldn't bear to be in the same room as Joel and the woman any longer. You didn’t care how childish you were behaving or if somebody would notice your weird behavior. The jealousy and hurt were too much to bear in this moment.

You hugged Ellie tightly, not wanting to let go. "Thanks for inviting me, Ellie. I had a great time," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ellie looked up at you with concern in her eyes. "Hey, you ok, right?" she asked, sensing that something was off.

You forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, of course, Ellie Bellie. Just a little tired," you lied.

Joel and the woman looked over at you, and you nodded in their direction goodbye, unable to meet their gaze, and quickly made your way out of the hall.

Once outside, you steadied your breathing and tried to compose yourself. You felt foolish for letting your emotions get the best of you. Afterall, Joel was a free man, and he was entitled to date whoever he wanted. You knew this, but you still couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment and hurt.

 Suddenly the sky opened up and it started to rain heavily. It felt like the world was crying with you. The raindrops were mixing with your tears, and you couldn't tell the difference between the two. The wind was picking up, and you felt cold to the bone. It was as if the weather knew the pain you were feeling and was trying to make it worse.

 Your body was shaking uncontrollably, and you felt foolish for thinking that there could have been something between you and Joel. How could you be so naive? Joel was just being kind to you, and you misinterpreted his kind gestures and turned it in some twisted delusional romantic idea.

How pathetic of you for even considering the possibility that Joel might have had feelings for you.

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to hold yourself together as the rain continues to beat down on you.

At the end of the day, Joel Miller, was nothing more than your stupid little crush.

Part 2

[lisbeth-kk]

May 14 prompt: time (thanks for the tag @notjustamumj @meetinginsamarra @raina-at

The day we met

Sherlock’s undercover. In Liverpool of all places. Greg’s mentioned something about a football team being the city’s pride and joy. Sherlock’s deleted the rest of that information. Not relevant. What is relevant is the fact that Sherlock’s going to perform on live television. In front of the whole world. Apparently Ukraine won last year’s competition, but due to the war, and the UK coming second, Liverpool is hosting the Eurovision this year. Sherlock’s not totally oblivious, but he’s got no interest in the competition per se. The reason he’s present is that a threat’s been made, and Mrs. Hudson’s asked for Sherlock’s help finding the culprit. Normally he wouldn’t considered this sort of case, but Mrs. Hudson’s niece is the one who’s been threatened and she’s also one of the dancers in the show. Her fiancé is the one who’s narrowed down the number of suspects for some reason. Sherlock almost had an aneurism from mere boredom while Mrs. Hudson told him about the whole charade.

“The things I do for you, Hudders,” Sherlock had said before he kissed her cheek and headed out of Baker Street.

***

So, here he is, all dressed up in a leather outfit in black and purple. According to Alice, the niece, it should’ve been black and red, but as Sherlock’s the only male dancer in this dance number, he went for colours more suited for his skin tone. Mrs. Hudson’s clearly warned Alice about him, because she just shrugs when he explains himself.

A short man with gold and silvery hair approaches them, a clipboard in his hand and an earpiece in his left ear.

“That’s John,” Alice whispers. “He’s the stage manager. You don’t want to mess with him.”

Sherlock gives this John a onceover and smirks. Ex-military most certainly. Sherlock licks his lips in anticipation. Maybe this case won’t be as bad as he feared.

***

As John approaches Alice and this new fellow, he can’t help but cast an appreciative look at the newcomer. He’s tall and slender, pale, flawless skin, the most striking face John’s seen in a while and raven curls, meticulously styled. All of him radiates his posh upbringing. Public school, rich parents, arrogant, spoiled. All the things John despises, but if he does his job properly, John can at least enjoy the look of him while this last. There are ten days until the final, and John decides to make the best of it.

“Afghanistan or Iraq?” are the words greeting John.

Normally John’s not one to get startled, but the question, not to mention the voice asking, leaves him amazed.

“Sorry, no time for pleasantries today, I’m afraid,” John says brusquely. “I’m John Watson, stage manager. You are?”

“Sherlock Holmes,” the man says with a knowing look.

Of course he would have a posh and exquisite name as well.

John feels his face blush. He hasn’t done that since high school.

“Right. Welcome, Sherlock. You’re familiar with this dance?” John inquires as professionally as he can manage.

“Obviously,” Sherlock says and rolls his eyes. “Shall we begin the rehearsal anytime this month?

John rolls his eyes and summons the dancers. They go through the dance a few times. Sherlock’s an excellent dancer and falls into step with the others in record time. His lithe body moving around the stage in the sensual manner the dance requires, makes John’s mouth salivate considerably. 

“Alright. One last time, then you can all take a few hours break and some lunch,” John states.

***

While the other dancers have lunch, Sherlock changes out of his costume and sends a text to Alice’s fiancé, Richard. They meet in Richard’s office, and Sherlock’s shown the little evidence Richard’s got. There are three messages. All of them spelled with cut out letters from The Times.

“How do you know it’s The Times?” Richard asks astounded.

“Please,” Sherlock drawls and rolls his eyes, but doesn’t elaborate.

Richard doesn’t pursue the matter. Mrs Hudson’s done her job at least. She knows he hates pestering and nagging when he states the obvious. The obvious to him, that is.

“Any suspects?” Sherlock asks, not too hopeful.

Richard surprises him. He’s actually quite astute.

“Eleanor, Cindy or Taylor,” he states with confidence.

Sherlock looks attentively at him.

“Eleanor is jealous of Alice getting the job. She was certain she’d get it, but she’s not half as good a dancer as my Alice,” Richard says affectionately.

“Alright. What about the others?” Sherlock prompts impatiently .

“Well, Cindy’s just a bitch on a regular basis, so that’s why I mentioned her. Not lightly her, but you said to be thorough when you texted me earlier.”

“Quite so,” Sherlock agrees.

“Then there’s Taylor. She…um…how shall I put it? She thinks of herself…well at a level above the rest of us. Her name isn’t actually Taylor at all, but she doesn’t respond when she’s called by her birth name, which is Anna, by the way. You see, she’s auditioned for Taylor Swift. It’s a few years back now, but after that, she started calling herself Taylor, and she’s totally weird. Doesn’t have to mean anything, of course.”

Richard trails off when he sees Sherlock’s blank face.

“You know who Taylor Swift is, yes?” he asks cautiously.

“Why would I? Is she, I assume it’s a she, relevant to this case?” Sherlock asks curiously.

“Er…no…I guess not,” Richard stutters.

“Well, then. Where can I find this Eleanor?”

***

“You’ve lost your mind, Watson,” John mutters to himself.

After five days of rehearsal, the show’s looking promising, but John’s predicament is of a more personal matter. He’s totally besotted with Sherlock Holmes, and that’s a bit not good. John’s never been one to hide his feelings very well, and Sherlock seems to notice every tiny glance John cast Sherlock’s way. Not that Sherlock’s been dismissive, the opposite, rather. But it’s highly unprofessional, and John’s a man of principles, so there’s that.

“John,” a familiar baritone purrs in his ear.

“Jesus, Sherlock!” John exclaims.

John had been lost in thought and hadn’t been watching where he was going. He had stopped right outside the women’s dressing room and out of nowhere, Sherlock emerged. Not entirely true. He’d actually come out of said room.

“What have you been doing in there?” John asks suspiciously.

“Investigating,” Sherlock mutters while texting rapidly on his phone.

“Invest…”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, John,” Sherlock snaps.

He looks at John with narrowed eyes.

“I’ll explain it to you over dinner, if you’re so inclined. You’re dying to know what I’m up to, and you can finally answer my question from the day we met. Meet me at the entrance at seven.”

And with that Sherlock’s gone, leaving John speechless.

*** 

Waiting for the time to pass, was agony, and John obviously knew time didn’t go slower than normal just because he was eagerly anticipating what might occur during dinner with Sherlock. Nevertheless, time seemed to have stopped momentarily. When he turned up at the entrance, he had to wait another ten minutes before Sherlock showed.

“Shall we?” Sherlock said without apologising for being late.

He was texting at his phone again, in an unfathomable speed. Just as John was about to ask if his company was warranted at all, Sherlock pocketed his phone and stopped outside an Italian restaurant.

“After you, John,” Sherlock said and held the door open for John to enter first. 

It smelled delicious of Italian cuisine and the interior was cosy and not as posh as John had anticipated. They were shown to a secluded table with a chequered table cloth, large wine glasses, and a lit candle. They ordered wine and pasta, and Sherlock asked his question again.

“Afghanistan or Iraq?”

Instead of answering, John asked a question of his own.

“How did you know?”

Sherlock’s rapid deduction made John gape. Before he could praise the precise analysis, their waiter brought the wine and shortly after the pasta. John was famished, so he decided to eat first and ask further questions later.

Sherlock wasn’t much of an eater, so between his nibbling on the garlic bread and rigatoni, he told John about why he’d been inside the women’s dressing room.

“So, if you solve the case before the final, you’ll be heading back to London?” John asks with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Normally yes. The other dancers aren’t dependent on me. However, I have other interests than the case,” Sherlock says.

Suddenly he looks shy, something John didn’t think Sherlock was even capable of. The wine makes John relax and he feels a bit bold, so he reaches over the table for Sherlock’s hand. While stroking Sherlock’s knuckles with his thumb, his eyes meet Sherlock’s and the look in those cerulean eyes, makes John shiver.

“Care to elaborate?” John asks hoarsely.

“Mm, after dessert,” Sherlock answers. 

Decided to pay a little homage to Eurovision from last night, but I've been struggling all day with this after 4 hours of sleep, so go easy on me...

@totallysilvergirl @calaisreno @missdeliadili @topsyturvy-turtely

[februaryflowers]

strawberry shortcake

your neighbor is cute; he has good intentions when he tries, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s probably the worst baker in existence. luckily for him, you’re right down the hall and just so happen to be a professional. and the cherry on top? you’re super sweet

warnings: kissing and well there are mentions of smoke/fire bc chan is bad at baking

fluff, 3473 words, neighbor!chan x baker!reader

a/n: requested by @leech4ns !! hehe i hope you like it sol and i luv you :] (thank you @sukisdeliveryservice​ for betareading for me :3)

It smells like smoke. You’re honestly a little concerned.

You get up from the desk, carefully moving towards the front door to your apartment. It’s cool to the touch, especially against your clammy hands, grounding you to the moment and away from the worries in your head. Pushing slightly now that you know it’s safe, you move the handle down to reveal a clear hallway.

The right side of the building looks empty, nothing amiss with the air. However, turning to the left lets a sharp odor into your nose, so you walk down a few steps until you find the culprit.

Biting your lip, you knock on the door.  

It takes a moment for the inhabitant to answer, but he emerges from a cloud of smoke, fanning his hand in front of his face as he lets out strained coughs.

“Uh, hi…” you say, rocking back and forth on your feet. “I was wondering if everything was okay. I smelled smoke from my place so…”

“Oh!” He swats his hand in front of his face once more before he meets your eyes, and you swear you see a deeper blush start to rise on his face. “Um, no, everything’s fine,” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “I got it all under control.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, you purse your lips. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah, sorry for bothering you,” he sighs.

With the smoke finally gone, you can clearly see his face. His brown hair is tousled and covering his forehead, but his eyes are what draw you to him. He has the warmest, deepest eyes, like a sweet chocolate chip.

“I was just trying to make some cupcakes for my nephew’s year end party at school. I’m sorry if I bothered you.”

You smile. Cute and good with kids? God, you’ll be a goner by tomorrow morning. “No worries; you didn’t! That’s very sweet of you.”

He chuckles, his sound quivering the longer he lets it go on. “He just went home an hour or so ago. Maybe next time he’s over you can meet him.”

“It seems you have your hands full with just the cupcakes,” you quip, stifling giggles at your imagination, which has gone wild with images of your neighbor trying to wrangle his nephew while ingredients are strewn about the counters. “But really, just let me know if you need help; I’m actually a baker, ya know.”

His eyes widen. “Really!?”

With a scratch of your neck, you nod your head. “Mmhm. That bakery on the corner of Seventeenth and Park is mine.”

“Oh my god!” he gasps, a hand flying to his mouth. “You’re y/n!? Those pastries are delicious!”

His surprise makes a bashful laugh rise from your throat. “Yeah, that’s me. I’m glad you like them!”

“They’re so good,” he hums, already daydreaming about the buttery dough with just the right amount of sweet mixed in. “But I’m Chan,” he says, shaking himself from his reverie.

“Anyway, yeah, I’m in apartment 218 if you ever need any baking help,” you say, a smile tugging your lips.

“Actually…could you help me now?”

You nod as you step inside and, frankly, his apartment is a mess. There are kids' toys scattered around the living room from his nephew, and ingredients and supplies are all over his kitchen counters. But worst of all are the burnt cupcakes

They are literally crispy when you bend down and touch them. Frankly, being this close to something so atrocious makes you wince. No offense to Chan, but you made better sweet treats when you were in elementary school.

Sighing, you stand and briskly open the kitchen window. “Well, how about we start over?”

“Please, let’s,” Chan sighs.

You start by throwing out what Chan has already. You offer an apologetic smile, but this is simply unsalvageable. However, he completely understands, and gets to work scrubbing the bowls and the pans so you can really start.

By heart, you follow a cupcake recipe from your bakery, giving Chan a few instructions every now and then as he tries to help.

There’s a boyish charm to the way he talks, a genuine naivety that he has retained despite his years. He views the world with warmth and positivity. Despite the challenges he talks about at work, he still sees good in everyone.

Nearly two hours after you arrived, you have a nice, fresh batch of red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting, topped with heart shaped sprinkles all baked, decorated, and ready to go for the celebration tomorrow.

Plopping down on his sofa, you let your eyes close. “Mm, that was nice,” you murmur.

“What?” Chan asks, sitting down behind you.

“I forgot how nice it was to bake for fun,” you chuckle. “I mean, sure, I enjoy it. I wouldn’t have started a bakery if I didn’t.” You pause, thinking carefully. “But sometimes when you do hobbies for work, the enjoyment and the stress get tangled up, you know?”

He nods slowly, solemnly. “Yeah…”

“Anyway,” you say, shaking off the seriousness of the conversation as you stand, “I don’t wanna overstay my welcome.” At the door, you turn to face him. “Really, Chan, if you ever need any baking help, you are more than welcome to knock on my door.”

“Thank you.” He practically sighs from relief.

“It’s no problem, really.” You look up from the ground to meet his eyes. “Maybe I should thank you too,” you add quietly.  

He bursts into bright, sunshine laughter. “No way! I owe you one.”

“Good night, Chan.”

He nods, and you turn back to head home, ducking your head to hide the smile that quickly overtakes your features. You didn’t realize how late it’d gotten, but time just seemed to fly with Chan, even if you just met.

Your mind goes back to the conversations you two had while you were baking, his joyful presence, his sweetness that is definitely better than sugar. You are definitely a goner for him.

An otherwise peaceful Saturday is interrupted by a knock on your door. Sighing, you drag yourself off the couch, your legs feeling like lead with each step.

On the other side of the door is none other than Chan, which causes you to gasp. Suddenly, there’s a lightness to your body, a fluttering in your chest.

“Oh, hi!” you exclaim. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Sorry to drop in,” he stutters, reluctant to meet your eyes, which are trained on your floors. “Do you have some flour I could borrow?”

“Of course. What kind?” you ask, pulling the door wider to let him in.

He blinks for a moment, letting his eyes wander your pristine apartment. Cute baubles are littered around the surfaces and the shelves on the walls, but it very much reflects you. His lips begin to curl. Oh my god, aren’t you—

“Earth to Chan?” you say, waving your hand in front of his face and snapping him from his reverie. “What kind of flour? I have all purpose, wheat, almond—”

“Of course you do,” he chuckles warmly, bringing even more butterflies to your stomach. “I forgot you baked.”

“I would hope I’d have everything I need at home,” you snicker. “Besides, sometimes I like to experiment.”

“Um, just all purpose is fine,” he mumbles, suddenly overtaken by shyness at his forgetfulness.

You nod, going into the kitchen and pouring a cup full of flour for him.

As you hand it to him, he quietly opens his mouth before shutting it again, trying to find words. Finally, he sighs and lets out the words: “Would you like to come over?”

“Oh?”

“In case I need supervision!” he sputters before slouching and bringing a finger to his chin. “I’m tryna make banana bread, and judging by what happened last time…”

“Oh, sure! I’ll come in a sec.”

He heads back to his apartment as you put your book away and exhale contentedly. Spending time with someone else wasn’t in your weekend plans, but it’d be nice to talk to the friendly, heart-pounding neighbor again, you think.

This time, his place is much cleaner. The toys are all put away in the toy box and his counters aren’t splattered in batter and frosting. Sitting down at the bar, you prop your head up on your palm as you watch him.

He has a white apron on, proudly displaying the “Kiss the Cook” motto on the front as he folds the banana bread batter. Honestly, you have to bite down on your tongue to stop yourself from snickering.

“You know,” you start, “I’ve thought about making banana bread for the bakery.”

“Oh really?”

“Mmhm, but I’m better off focusing on other baked goods.”

He hums thoughtfully. “I get that. But if you really wanna have it, you could try to find another baker who’s better at bread. It doesn’t mean you’re any less of a good one yourself.”

“Maybe in the future,” you chuckle. “I think I need more space before I do that, but I quite like the quaint little place I have now.”

Pausing as he mixes the batter, he blinks as he thinks. He doesn’t think he’s thought about enjoying the moments now and the memories of the past. It’s always been about the future, planning for what’s coming. Maybe he’s been too caught up in the future to remember the sweetnesses of the past. Even if some things are hard now, he will look back to this day in the future, simply happy to be here with you.

“Hm?” you say, stepping into the kitchen and examining his dough. “What’s up?”

In all honesty, the batter isn’t that bad. It’s the right consistency and well mixed, which honestly surprises you the most.

“That looks pretty good,” you say, your breath hitting his skin and causing goosebumps to raise on the spot.

He shudders at the warmth of your body before taking a deep breath, disguising it as stepping away to pour the batter into the loaf pan.

“I’m glad it’s acceptable, at least,” he manages to exhale out.

“Well, we’ll see how it tastes later,” you tease.

Chan’s banana bread is all that’s on your mind as you stand at the counter, manning the cash register. In all honesty, it was actually quite good, a warm, dense and moist mixture of sweetness and softness. Maybe you’re being a little more lenient than usual because it’s him, but you like to think you maintain the utmost professionalism when it comes to judging baked goods.

Perhaps you should stop by tonight and leave him a little gift of croissants or cookies…

It would be quite nice to see him again.

Your eyes are trained on the ceiling as you think about the cute neighbor, your cheeks pushing higher in a bright smile the longer you daydream. However, it’s this spacing out that causes you to miss the next customer.

He clears his throat and you feel yourself ready to start spewing apologies for making him wait when your eyes fall upon his face.

“Chan!?”

He nods, scratching the back of his neck and bouncing on his toes.

“I’m starting to think you showing up for help with baked goods isn’t a coincidence,” you laugh.

The corners of his mouth perk up at your words. “Well it’s my friend’s daughter’s birthday tomorrow and we’re having a little celebration,” he starts before bending down to look at the display. “Any recommendations?”

You let out a hum, thinking carefully. “I personally would go for the strawberry shortcake, especially since it’s summer. Nice and fresh. And usually both the kids and the parents will go for it. It’s sweet, but not overbearingly so. The lemon buttercream really cuts through the—oh I’m rambling,” you chuckle. “I don’t mean to bore you.”

His eyes widen. “No, no, no! It’s not like that at all!”

Scratching the back of your head, you can’t control the way your lips curl even more at his words. “So, what’ll it be?”

He looks at the strawberry shortcake you suggested and points at it. “That one, please.”

“Excellent choice,” you giggle, taking it out of the display and putting it out on the counter. “Do you want me to write anything?”

He lets out a low note of thought, bringing his index finger to his chin. “Her name is Clair, no ‘E’.”

Nodding, you turn around and grab a bag of red icing to match the brightness of the strawberries adorning the top of the cake.

“You know,” Chan starts as you begin writing “Happy Birthday Clair” on the top of the cake, “they met while listening to a street performer play Clair de Lune one night.” He pauses before he can’t help the chuckle that rises to his throat and makes your lips quirk.

He sounds beautiful. Happiness sounds good on him, the brightness building on an already exquisite character.

“Every big event in their lives—anniversaries, birthdays, the proposal, the wedding—they played it.”

Listening to his rambles brings a lightness to your heart and your chest.

“They’re a little cheesy,” he says, but his tone tells you that he doesn’t mean it with malice. There’s an affectionate teasing in his voice. You’d like to think he isn’t capable of such hostility, but deep down, you know he isn’t.

You giggle as you put the cake in a box, now finished with the icing. “I dunno, it’s kind of cute, you know?”

He glances down at his shoes, his eyes filling with sparkles and his cheeks turning pink. “Yeah, it is,” he admits.

Ringing him up, you find your fingers almost have a mind of their own as they slowly unfold the paper bag and pack up the cake box before you finally push it closer to him on the counter between you. They itch to maybe, just maybe, reach for his own fingers and squeeze them in your hand, to maybe bring your palm to his.

You open your mouth, prepared to thank him and maybe, hopefully, see him around, but instead “Why don’t you invite me?” falls from your plush lips instead.

He blinks back at you, his cheeks blooming even redder than the juiciest strawberries in June. The longer he stares, the more you want to just duck under the counter and cover your face in flour. But finally, his brain begins to process and understand your words.

“It’s a date!” he exclaims. “I mean, you know, like it’s okay, but if you want it to be a date date that’s okay too!”

You nod, a little too excitedly, before he lets out a small wave and scurries out. It’s safe to say you duck under the counter and squeal.

The birthday party is in a quiet neighborhood filled with greenery, especially during the summer. Finding the house number, you make your way to the back gate, just as Chan had texted you about before letting yourself in.

Several other adults are mingling, clearly already very familiar with each other as a few children chase each other around the grassy yard. You think you even spot a little boy resembling a certain Lee Chan in the bunch, rocking himself on a swing.

“Oh,” a tall man with glasses says as he notices you and comes over. “You must be y/n, right?”

“Yeah…you are? Oh my god, sorry! I don’t mean to be rude—”

He simply laughs. “I’m Wonwoo. Chan told me you’d be coming.”

“Oh!”

“He was quite excited about it too.”

“Really!?” you exclaim, your voice cracking as you speak and causing you to duck your head.

Wonwoo nods, his smile growing as he remembers their conversation and Chan’s fondness for you. “I don’t think I’ve seen him that giddy about something since the grand opening of his dance studio,” he ponders until a little girl with pigtails comes running towards him.

He picks her up with delicateness and with the way she melts into his arms, you can guess that she’s his daughter.

“Say hi to y/n, Clair,” he says, taking her hand and bouncing it in your direction.

“Hello,” she murmurs before burying her head in her father’s chest.

“Hey, there’s no need to be shy,” he says, kissing her head. “Something tells me we’re gonna be seeing a lot more of y/n in the future.”

You let the chuckles out from your throat. “O-oh, there’s no need!” Suddenly remembering yourself and your manners, you hold the bag in your hands out to him. “Happy birthday to Clair. Sorry, I wasn’t sure what she’d like so I just got something for you…”

He shakes his head. “No need, really. We have more than enough.”

“Oh, I insist! It’s okay, really—”

“Y/n!” You turn your head, your heart beginning its fluttering when you see Chan jogging over. “You made it!”

Nodding, you take a step closer to him. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

His cheeks start to sport a blush a darker red than they already were from playing with the kids in the summer sun. “R-really?”

“Mmhm.”

He smiles, showing off his pearly teeth and his eye smile, making you wonder just how perfect a man could be (excluding his questionable baking). “Oh,” he says, noticing your bag, “what’s that?”

“I got some cookies for Clair’s parents but Wonwoo said it was fine,” you reply, shrugging.

“I’m sure if you just slip them on the table he won’t notice,” he laughs before teasing him. “He’s a little dense.”

You can’t help the grin that forces itself on your lips as Chan leads you to the kitchen to put the dessert down.

“You know, it took him nearly a year to ask Jielin out. Oh, that’s his wife.”

“Oh really?”

He nods. “He was always talking about them, but he always denied having a crush.” He pauses and shakes his head with a smile.

Just as you’re about to respond, that little kid resembling Chan runs inside, picking up a juice box from the kitchen counter.

“Hey, kiddo!” Chan exclaims, running up to him and picking him up to place him on his hip.

“Who’s this?” you ask, but you don’t need confirmation to know.

“Parker, my nephew.” He turns to the child and whispers, albeit loud enough for you to hear, in his ear, “You should thank them. Do you remember those cupcakes we had for school?” Parker nods. “Y/n helped me a lot.”

“Thank you, y/n!” he cheers before he thinks carefully, bringing his finger to his chin. After a moment a mischievous smile makes its way to his features, so closely resembling Chan. “Uncle Chan talks about you a lot!” he exclaims. “He thinks you’re cute and you make him nervous,” he giggles.

Chan lets out an over dramatic gasp before placing his nephew back on the ground. “Get out of here, you scamp!” he teases and the child does as such.

A cheeky smile has made its way to your own face as you approach him, playfully hitting his shoulder. “Cute, huh?”

He shuts his eyes and pouts. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” he whines.

“Too bad,” you say, drawing out the words. “I would’ve liked it if he was right…”

“Wait, really?” he exclaims, his face suddenly bursting with sparkles like the sun catching glass in the afternoon.

“Mmhm.”

“Even though I can’t bake?”

You laugh. “It was kinda cute.”

It’s his turn to have an unstoppable grin. “Well, if that’s the case…do you wanna go out some time?”

Wrapping your arms around him, you murmur, “Of course I would.”

He places a light kiss on your cheek, one that has the blood rushing to his touch.

“Let’s just stay like this for a while,” you mumble into his skin.

“Of course.”

Cuddled up to Chan in Wonwoo and Jielin’s kitchen is just about the best feeling you’ve ever had. You don’t think you’ve ever felt this warm, this excited, before. Even with the summer sun and humidity beating down outside, you don’t want to let go of Chan and his coziness. Everything about him is wonderful and welcoming, but never in an overbearing way.

He’s as sweet as the best cake you can make, but you know that he is better than any baked good you could ever come up with. And especially one that he could make.

P.S. Chan would annihilate me if I included the fact that he actually did have flour in his kitchen when he was making banana bread and just wanted to see you so it has been excluded.

P.P.S. Maybe the kids were all eavesdropping and cheered when he asked you out. Something tells me that if it wasn’t for Parker, it would’ve actually taken Chan a year to ask you out.

[tianarpowell]

Tiana nodded as Remy expressed his misgivings about getting a loan from the bank. She heard him loud and clear—she didn’t like big banking, either. But Tiana knew that if she and Remy sat down in the room with those bankers—which, there it was, Remy had agreed to come!—they would learn how passionate she and Remy were about this dream of theirs…this dream that she and Remy were now sharing with one another. Those bankers would get a glimpse of something rare. That, Tiana knew, would win the day. Remy was right in that those professional conversations were hard. They were uncomfortable; made you doubt yourself; made you want to get up and leave. But Tiana would be there for Remy when the questions started to come out. And she’d be there for Remy as he solidly impressed every person in that room. Tiana knew this beyond a shadow of a doubt.

At Remy’s question about the bread bowl, Tiana told him, “Bread’s in the oven! Two bowls, ready to be turned into bowls, so to speak, once they’re finished baking. I prepped the ingredients for the soup—” and she gestured to the left side of the counter— “but as you can see, I’m getting these beets ready for the pan.” She had opened up Remy’s little jar of sumac and used her dropper of lemon juice on the raw beets. That would ensure the smoothest flavor.

Tiana laughed when Remy said he’d be indebted to her. “Enchanted Rose is easy-peasy,” she told Remy, winking at him. “It just wasn’t right for me—that’s why they didn’t want me. But I’ll talk to Mr. Legrand, like I said. And he’ll want you to cook for him and the rest of their team, for sure. You wait and see.” She wanted to dance again—Remy liked her idea! She’d talk to Mr. Legrand as soon as she saw him next.

Tiana blushed herself at Remy’s kind, thoughtful words. “You’re a gem, Remy,” Tiana said warmly, “and you have gifts aplenty. I can’t believe we’re alive at the same time. Has anyone ever said that to you? That it’s cool that you’re alive at the same time as them?” It sounded like something Tiana’s good friend Ollie would say. “And you need to be exactly what you’ve always dreamed of being: well-known and well-loved. That’s the life you’ve earned. And I hear you so clearly, when you talk about food that makes you comfortable. Warm things, really really good things. Those are the best things in life. So that must be what you are best at: being the best yourself.” She beamed. “You’ve been the best kind of friend to me. And the best baker when I didn’t know you yet. What I keep coming back to is, you’re a strong chef, and your feelings, your passions, are strongest of all.” Tiana scraped her beets into the pan, where chicken bouillon was already sitting. “Those feelings mean something, Remy. It’s in your future.” That was a promise.

.

Remy was taken by surprise by the hug (he couldn't remember the last time someone outside of his family had ever hugged him, if at all), but he chuckled and gave Tiana a couple little pats to the back. He remembered too late that he had his hands dirty with olive oil and smelling of garlic.

Tiana told him her idea, and the way she described it, it really sounded like the restaurant was just within their grasp. "I mean... Two years just might pass us by in a flash," Remy smiled with a shrug. Her suggestion of taking out a loan, though, wasn't really what he expected. "I... Um, I don't know. I don't really like banks..." He had never had the opportunity to talk directly to one, apart from helping his dad file some taxes and get some paperwork done once or twice; but he had heard a couple horror stories, and he wasn't eager to become part of one himself. "And I can't say I got any credit to my name. You sure that they would just approve me based on my cooking?" Would they even give him a chance, with how little experience he had as a cook? There was probably something Terence could do, like write a letter vouching for his skills and diligence, perhaps... But was that enough? Was Tiana's dream and her determination enough for the both of them? "But I'll... Yeah, I'll go with you, of course." He wasn't completely sure this was something he wanted, but it was clearly something Tiana had faith would speed up the process. Even if her father's experience with the same bank, and his own bad luck, weren't very encouraging.

At the same time, Remy couldn't deny that 'business partner' and 'head chef' both had a very nice ring to it.

He took a moment, after dumping all his explanation of his love of warm food and cozy cooking to Tiana, to check on the pork chops and turn them around to make sure they were cooked evenly. "Okay, this is almost ready to go in the oven. How's the bread bowl and the soup going, chef?"

Once the pork was nice and brown and cooking in the oven, he had another sip of lemonade, and tried to breathe as he really let it all sink in. He had never felt this close to actually realizing his dream of being a head chef. Even when working with Gusteau, he had the feeling he would have to start from the ground up, maybe work as a saucier or a grillardin and slowly make his way into becoming the one in charge. But this, this seemed almost too good to be true.

Remy had been hopeful about getting a job at Enchanted Rose, one of the most popular, if not the most popular place in town. The opportunity never showed up, though. But now that Tiana was offering to help him get a foot on the door, who knew? Maybe this was finally the opportunity to really start his life as a chef, even before heading an entire kitchen. "If you could do that, Tiana, get me an interview at Enchanted Rose, I would be forever in debt with you," he said. He would do anything, really, for everything Tiana was doing for him: wash her dishes every night, pick out her trash, bake her fresh croissants for her daily breakfast, or really, anything she ever asked of him. "I mean it. You just tell me, and I'd do it." Not that there was much he could offer, but he could try.

Remy just laughed along. "If you say so," he said, still chuckling. "You're just way too kind, Tiana. Like... You're an amazing cook, but you also got a way with words. I've never been this complimented in my life... Look! You even got me blushing," he kept laughing, looking at his reflection on the chrome cooker hood. "But seriously, thanks for all the encouragement and compliments. You're really the sweetest person I've ever met."

[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.”

[navalcriminalimagines]

This clearly wasn’t what I had planned from the beginning. Like I said in a post a few days ago, this fic was supposed to be a two-part things. But I guess I’m getting carried away?

Aaaaand since I’ve been watching Suits lately (I’m on season 5), idk, Harvey just fit in this (or maybe it’s just that I’m in love with this fucking character). Anyway. I’m not sure this can be consider as a Suits x SVU crossover, just yet. Maybe eventually it would? But if you don’t watch Suits, don’t know who Harvey Specter is, this won’t be a problem to read this for now.

I hope you’ll like it. Sorry not sorry about the cliffhanger 😌 Part 3 coming soon! Part 1 here.

Pairings: Rafael Barba x Reader, Harvey Specter x Reader

Baker - 2

December 1996

You haven’t seen Rafael since his birthday and the kiss in your basement - your very first kiss. You didn’t have a choice but to pretend that everything was okay, that you didn’t feel a void in your chest and in your life, but every new day was harder than the other. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, about what that kiss could possibly mean to him. Did he like you? Was he attracted to you, in any way? What about Yelina and the wedding? Did he tell her what happened? Probably not. Yelina is a Latina and she doesn’t take shit. If she knew, she would have come to you. And if that would happen, your brother would know about it and that would be catastrophic. AJ is overprotective of you, maybe more than your father is. If he knew that his very best friend for years kissed, he would lost it. Him and Rafael had been through a lot together, if their friendship came to an end because of you? You wouldn’t survive it.

Truth was that there was nothing you could do about it. You just had to keep it to yourself and pretend that it never happened. But how could you when you remembered exactly how his lips felt on yours? How soft he was, how his tongue felt like fighting with yours.

But you also remembered the aftermath. The horror on Rafael’s face when he pulled away. Disgust. That’s what was on his face when he realized what he did. He was disgusted by the kiss, by…you. That brought a whole new kind of pain in your chest.

You had been baking a lot since then. After baking his birthday cake, you realized how much you loved it, and it was your way of forgetting about the rest. It became your escape.

Christmas was just around the corner, so of course you were baking Christmas cookies for your family. “I love everything you bake, baby, but if you keep going, I’m gonna get fat and your mum is going to leave me.” Your father joked as he tried to steal one cookie, but you slapped his hand away.

“They aren’t decorated yet,” you told me. “And mum would never leave you. Even when you get bald.” You joked back. His growing baldness was a sensitive subject that you and your brother kept teasing him about. He growled, stole the cookie anyway and took a bite.

“You want to speak about something sensitive? How are your SATs going?” He smirked.

“Go away,” you said, with a small smile.

To be honest, you’d been thinking a lot about your professional future lately. Maybe baking was your thing. Maybe it was what you were supposed to do. Not that you would ever admit it was because of what Rafael said. “You should be a baker.” He told like it was the most obvious thing.

But how to know for sure? Just because you love to bake at home didn’t mean you'd love to do it for a living, right? But sometimes late at night, you imagined yourself owning your own bakery and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

“What if baking is my thing?” You called out to your father who was now sitting on the couch, watching tv.

“Then you’ll go to whatever university that gives you this opportunity,” he answered like it was the most common thing. You sighed, walking to the living room, with the icing in your hand.

“But how do I know for sure?” You asked him.

“Tell you what, honey. I don’t have any baker as clients, but I do have restaurant owners. I can ask around, see if someone would take you in for an internship.”

“Really? You’d do that?”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, your brother or your mother, so yeah. Guess I’ll eat at Lincoln’s restaurant on Monday.”

“I knew there was a good side of you being a lawyer for the riches.” You laughed before going over to him to kiss his cheek. “Thanks dad.”

You started to walk out of the living room when your father spoke again. “Baby, can I ask you something?” He asked. You turned around and waited for him to speak. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Why?”

“Nothing. Your mum thinks something’s wrong with you lately.”

“Everything’s fine,” you lied and disappeared.

This wasn’t good. Your mother could read you like a freaking open book. If she knew something was wrong, it wouldn’t be long before she asks you about it and you knew for a matter that you wouldn’t be able to lie to her. You never was.

On Sunday, your brother came over for lunch like every other Sunday. He has his life of his own now, but your parents made a point to have these moments as a family. There were many times where Rafael would join in, especially when they were younger, but that didn’t happen in a while, and it probably wouldn’t happen again. Maybe that was for the best. The less you saw him, the better, right?

“Y/N, you’ll have to call Rafi soon. Yelina wants you to be the flower girl.” AJ said in the middle of lunch.

“The flower girl? What am I? Five?” You answered, clearly offended.

“Don’t snap at me. I’m just the messenger.” He rose his hands in surrender.

“Yeah well, you’ll tell Yelina thanks but no thanks.”

“Don’t you want to be a part of Rafael’s wedding, honey?” Your mother softly asked.

“I do, but not as the flower girl.” As the bride to be.

“Call Raf anyway, okay?”

You nodded with a ‘yeah, whatever’, which was a deep give away. But you didn’t bother to care at this moment. The flower girl, seriously? And what Rafael said when she asked that? Probably not that he had his tongue in your month just two months prior. You were pissed at him, and pissed at Yelina. You weren’t a kid anymore, why the hell would she ask such a thing?

Later in the afternoon, your father and your brother were watching some sports while talking about work. Since your dad got your brother a job at his law firm, they never take a break. For a moment, you considered going to law school like them, you actually knew quite a few things, but it really wasn’t your thing. “Honey, can I ask you something?” Your mother came into your room, and sat on your bed across from you.

“Sure?”

“Are you in love with Rafael?”

“Mum? What the— no! Of course not, why would you think that?”

“Your reaction makes me know that I’m right to ask that.”

“Too defensive, huh?” You sadly smiled and she chuckled.

“Tiny bit,” she moved next to you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders. “You never grew out of your crush, did you?”

“It’s worse, ma. I love him. And I know he’s older than me, that he’s AJ’s best friend, that he’s engaged, but—“

“Feelings don’t disappear because you know things, baby. But yeah, he’s gonna get married, so you’re gonna have to force yourself to move on.”

For a moment, you considered telling her about the kiss, but even though her reaction was nice and comprehensive about your feelings for him, it didn’t mean it would be about Rafael actually kissing you.

“Yelina is not good—“

“Y/N, baby,” she cut you off. “I have no doubt that you’d make Rafael happy if you two were together. But he’s with Yelina, and he wouldn’t have proposed to her if he didn’t love her with all his heart—“

“Aren’t you supposed to make me feel better?” You softly sobbed and your mother held you close to her chest.

“It wouldn’t be wise of me to keep your hopes high, honey. I want your happiness more than anything,” she kissed your hair. “You’ll turn eighteen soon, you’re going off to college in a few months, wherever that is, you’re supposed to have fun, to go out, enjoy your youth. And break boys' hearts. Not the other way around,” she chuckled and so did you. “What about Harvey? It’s been a while since you talked about him.”

“He’s changed. I’ve lost count of how many girls he’s been with in the past six months.”

“Little Harvey? Seriously?”

“One and the same. Something happened to him but every time I tried to talk to him about it, he snapped at me. He’s my friend and I love him, but I’m not his personal punching ball.”

“Fair enough,” she kissed you again. “But look, honey. Live your life to the fullest, okay? Don’t let a man, a friend, or anyone hold you back.”

“Dad never held you back. I want what you and he have. I want my first to be my last.”

“I wish it was that simple. But—“

“What you have is rare, I know. I blame both of you for raising us in a loving household,” you laughed.

“I can pick up a fight or two with him, if you want.” She playfully offered.

“His growing baldness?”

“You’re going to cause our divorce.”

Maybe your mother was right. Maybe you shouldn’t let your love for Rafael holding you back. He’s getting married to someone else. For all you knew, that kiss didn’t mean anything to him. He probably saw you as a little sister and nothing more. Why wouldn’t you just date someone too?

New week, new you. You were set. Your dad was going to get you an internship or something at a bakery - there’s nothing Counselor L/N couldn’t do - so you’d know if that’s what you want to do for a living or not. And you’ll be eighteen soon, you’re supposed to have fun. Live your life to the fullest.

That’s why at lunchtime, you boldly walked up to Harvey’s table and sat next to him. It was the last week before the break, it was now or never to make up with your friend. You didn’t care about the other people at the table, or the girl’s shoulders he had his arm wrapped around. They weren’t your friends, they weren’t Harvey’s friends. He’s just the popular guy everyone wants to be around. But you knew better.

“What do you think you’re doing?” A girl asked you as the table fell silent.

“Eating?” You answered.

“Not here, you aren’t.”

You shrugged your shoulders, not saying another word. When you spotted the mushrooms in Harvey’s plate, you picked some with your fork and ate them. “What the hell is your problem? I made that for him!” His ‘girlfriend’ basically yelled at you.

“Harvey hates mushrooms.”

He didn’t say a word, but his actions spoke volume when he dropped all the mushrooms on your plate, and kissed your temple. You did miss your friend. “Don’t kiss her!” You heard from the blond.

“I do what I want,” he just said. And after a short argument, she was so upset that she left the table.

You didn’t befriend the people at the table, you just ate in silence, but made sure they knew you were there. Maybe you were going territorial with Harvey, but it wasn’t like something he never did. You remembered three years prior when he invented a big old lie so Jake wouldn’t want to be your friend anymore.

“Harv. Do you wanna come over tomorrow after school? We can study for the math test together.”

“I have practice, but can I come after?”

“Sure.”

That Monday night, your father came home with great news: you are expected at a bakery on Saturday morning, 4am. You wanted to know if it was for you, so that was your opportunity. Around 11pm, you were looking through baking books, learning about techniques, tastes and recipes, when you heard noises in your backyard. Your parents were already in bed. You took a look, and within seconds, Harvey appeared on your balcony. You jumped from fear, almost yelling, before you recognized him. “Harv, Jesus. You scared the hell out of me!” You yelled-whispered, after opening your window.

“Can I come in?”

You nodded and let him in. He clearly was freezing since he was only wearing a sweater. He sat on the edge of your bed, and you put a blanket over him. “What are you doing here this late?” You asked.

“Don’t want to stay at home. Can I sleep here?”

“I’ll agree if you finally tell me what’s going on with you?”

Harvey dropped his head, avoiding looking at you. You stepped between his legs, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You felt his cold hands in your back as he held you close to him. With his head buried in your neck, he finally opened up. He told you about his mother cheating on his father, and how she asked him to lie about it. He told you how horrible he felt about lying to his father, but he also knew it would break his heart if he found out. So, he just shut up.

But staying at his house was becoming too much for him. “I can’t wait to go off to college.” He whispered.

“Where would that be?”

“Boston. Harvard, hopefully. What about you?”

He wasn’t as cold as he was when he arrived. You sat on the bed next to him and handed him a brochure. Culinary Institute of America. “You want to be a chef?”

“Baker.”

“Since when? I never saw you bake.”

“Yeah well, now I do and I love it.”

“Do you have anything baked right now? I’m starving.”

“I can check if my dad didn’t eat all of the cookies I made this weekend.”

You went downstairs. There were only two cookies left, so you took them with a glass of milk and went back to your bedroom. Harvey was laying on your bed, in just a t-shirt and jeans. He even got his socks off.

“That’s my side.” You told him. You didn’t give him the cookies or the milk until he moved to the other side of the bed - with a growl.

“Shit, that’s really good.” He said, a month full of cookies.

“It’s just cookies.”

“Best cookies I ever had.”

You talked for an hour about everything and anything. It has been months since you two were together and you had a lot to talk about. But it was only after you both lay down side by side on your bed that you asked what you really wanted to know.

“What did I do to you, Harvey?”

“Come on, you know it.” He answered with a small chuckle.

“I wouldn't be asking if I did! Was it because I opened my mouth about your behavior?”

“Nah. I know you’re right about that.”

“Then why did you snap at me? Why have you been avoiding me?”

He turned his face to you. You could make out his features thanks to the outside light. “Rafael.” He whispered.

You propped yourself on your elbows. “What about him?” You said, defensively.

“You’re in love with him.”

“I’m—“

“I’m not an idiot, Y/N.”

“He’s AJ’s best friend,”

“Yeah, so?”

“He’s twenty—“

“Y/N, you can deny all you want. I know what I saw.”

You let your head hit your pillow and sighed. “What if I am? What does it have to do with us?”

“I wish you’d look at me the way you look at him.”

“Harv—“

“It was hard to be just your friend. I’m not good at sharing.”

“I know. Jake.”

He laughed. “He was a dick anyway.”

Silence filled the bedroom for a moment.

“Rafael is getting married in two months. On Valentine’s Day.”

“Not to you, right?”

You punched his thigh and he grabbed your wrist midair. “Need a date?”

“Not sure I have a plus one option, but I can still ask.”

You and Harvey eventually fell asleep next to each other, fingers intertwined. You didn’t think this through, completely forgetting that your mother usually wakes you up. When you opened your eyes, saw her staring over you, and felt Harvey’s fingers between yours, you panicked. “Care to tell me why is Harvey lying next to you, honey?”

“Good morning, Mrs L/N,” he answered before you. “I’m sorry, I showed up unannounced last night. Y/N let me stay.”

“I can see that. And you know you’re welcome here, Harvey. But if my husband sees you in her bed, he won’t be nice and you know it. So, to his acknowledgement, you slept in AJ’s room.”

“Thanks ma’am.”

She waited for both of you to get up, letting Harvey lead the way. She grabbed your wrist to make you face her. She clearly was asking things with her eyes. “He just needed a friend, mum.”

“The hand that wasn’t holding yours was actually gripping your hip.”

“We were sleeping. Do you know what you do when you sleep?”

“After what you told me, I just want you to be careful honey. And even if you’re on the pill, use prot—“ you rolled your eyes with a grunt and walked downstairs.

Breakfast went okay, your father brought up the fact that Harvey slept in AJ’s bedroom. He just made clear that next time he wanted to be warned about a sleepover. You and Harvey went to school together, and it felt really nice to have him back by your side.

* * * * *

“Did you call Raf, like I asked you to?” AJ asked as he joined you in the basement on Friday night. “Specter! Been a while. What are you doing here?” He and Harvey shook hands.

“What are you doing here?” You answered back.

“Dropped some laundry to mum.”

“AJ L/N, a twenty-seven year old lawyer who still needs mummy to do his laundry.” You teased him and he kicked you - which you returned.

“Raf is going to be here in a minute. You’ll go talk to him.”

“Why is he coming?”

“Why is Harvey here?”

“Answering questions with another question. You’re such a lawyer.”

“Y/N lives here, and since she invited me over, it’s not surprising that I am here. You don’t live here anymore. So, Rafael showing up here is less common than it used to.”

AJ took a sip of his beer and laughed. “What happened to the shy little Harvey Specter who was too afraid to look at me because I was his crush’s big brother?”

“He grew up. And my crush became my girlfriend.”

When you felt his arms around your shoulders, his body pressing against yours, you froze. What the hell was he doing? At any point, did you become his girlfriend. Nothing happened in the past week. Why would he make your brother think you two were dating? You looked at him, puzzled. He just smiled and kissed your forehead. “You do realize that me, my father and Rafael are going to take you upstairs and have a talk with you?”

“You and your father, that’s fair. I don’t see why Rafael would join though.”

“He’s family. He loves Y/N like his little sister. He’s joining.”

That stings. Really bad.

All you wanted to do was to scream at him about the kiss. How could Rafael ‘love’ you like a sister but kiss you so gently and so passionately? It didn’t make any fucking sense and you hated it.

And what was Harvey doing? Making your brother think that you were dating? Where was this coming from? You needed to talk to him privately before this ‘talk’ AJ already planned.

“Fine. I can take it.”

But could you?

“We’ll see about that, kiddo. But for now, take your arm off my sister.”

You understood your brother’s protectiveness, you actually found it very sweet all those years, but at this moment, you hated the fact that he was ordering Harvey something like this. So, you grabbed his hand with yours, making sure that his arm would stay where it was.

“Hey there!” Someone called out from the stairs.

Rafael.

[freebooter4ever]

So what if Jack and Parse coordinated halloween costumes in 2014?

Ok, hear me out, I've been following the comic on/off since year one and recently finally finished year four and then bought like all the huddles/chirp book etc, so apologies if this has already been discussed but its been killing me all day so i had to. Some conspiracy levels of analysis under cut :P

In the official canon comic timeline we never actually see halloween 2014, correct? We just get bitty's tweets about it and the absolutely ADORABLE picture of him in his sweeney todd costume and jack in his Cat(!!!!) costume. And like, bitty's tweets suggest that everyone is super confused that jack showed up in costume for once and nobody knows where he got the idea or the cat ears. MEANWHILE in the huddle (which ive chopped into pieces and made a low res version bc please support artists and go buy the actual pdf!!) we see kent in tacky mouse ears, and very familiar whiskers/nose facepaint. Kent's saying ‘its a group costume’ to someone. When I first downloaded the huddle months ago this utterly baffled me like...what ‘group costume’ would involve a mouse?

Anyway then the tragic epikegster happened and we all know who showed up but we don't know why kent picked then of all times.

This next part is all conjecture cause of course i have ideas \o/ because what better ‘group costume’ than ‘cat’ and ‘mouse’ am i right???

1) the slightly weirder but fits with canon theory is that jack came up with the cat costume on his own and kent being his creepily obsessed self saw the photo on twitter, and since east coast is in a later time zone than vegas that would give kent time to throw together a shitty mouse costume as his own kinda sick joke. This is the kent ‘failing at life spectacularly’ parson theory.

2) assuming that kent and jack exaggerated slightly on the ‘jack cut off all contact after the draft’ story, it would make sense that kent was trying to call jack about joining the vegas Aces even before kent showed up at the haus. So say kent's trying to sweet talk him into it and being conversational and all and casually asks about jack's halloween plans and finds out that jack's bought some dumb cat ears bc he's a cheap boring dude who clearly hates halloween (why are bittle and kent obsessed with this guy again?). And kent jokingly is like ‘going as a cat, are you? well then i'll be the mouse’ with his trademark smirk. Which is a fun role reversal with the whole kent trying to lure jack into his professional hockey team and all. And also we totally know kent wants to be caught by jack haha ;_; why. And these two are so dysfunctional its so great. I also love the idea of two old friends still having that kind of ‘you have to be us to get it’ connection and inside jokes. Cause parse is obviously at a party where everyone around him doesn't understand why the heck he's dressed as a mouse (i imagine its not a typical hockey player halloween costume), which implies that the person he's doing a ‘group costume’ with is not at the party...probably because he's at samwell...making shitty's day/year/life and flirting with a homicidally in love baker.

ANYWAY im so sorry for all this nonsense, please don't take any of it too seriously. I'm just having too much fun thinking of old estranged friends who are supposed to be rivals and fighting, secretly reconnecting and spontaneously thinking up cat and mouse ‘group costumes’ so they can be together but not really together right under everyones nose. ;_; (also if my second theory is something like what happened...jack...that means parse embarassed himself and went as a mouse to a party alone just to tease you with it...that boy is DEFINITELY NOT OVER YOU)