#I wrote this a few years back and my professor told me to share this someplace but I didn't want to

[elvisabutler]

like fallin' into a river

summary: time apart can do a lot of things, including help your now husband learn his way around a woman. you'd be more angry if you didn't reap the benefits. fandom: austin butler | elvis ( 2022 ) | elvis presley rating: m pairing: austin!elvis ( 60's variation ) x female reader word count: 1078 ( i know, shocked me too. ) warnings: talk of previous break ups. p in v sex ( unprotected, wrap it before you tap it ). oral ( female receiving ). 60s elvis. squirting. minor bit of praise kink. author's note: so this is the double dip for day eighteen: squirting with austin!elvis. this was going to maybe be 50s elvis ( because @blurredcolour exists to encourage me to write starry-eyed 50s elvis always ) but then ruby bell was like i'm going to post this pic and ruin ally's life. so!!!! 60s elvis, my favorite little ken doll won out. this is the last piece i had left out of everyone, the main and the double dips and i wrote this so fast i'm a little startled with it. seriously i said it in the professor presley piece but i love how everyone received all of my fics for kinktober and truly i am so thankful so many of you liked them especially after it's taken me this long to fully finish. this was a really good writing exercise for me and put me out of my comfort zone a few times but i loved it so much. as always my ask box is open for requests and we all know i've got like 15 different things in my drafts at any given time so yes. thank you guys and i hope you enjoy! also you know the drill, pick your elvis, the prompt called for austin elvis but you can envision either one. also good lord i'm sorry for the amount of fics i may unleash in the next few days. something has come over me and i may actually make a solid dent in my wips.

There is a part of you that should be offended should be angry at Elvis sleeping around with other people. Yes, you two weren't dating and you were both free people at the time, but there might have been a small part of you- the romantic part of you- that thought that despite the fact that you had called off your engagement all those years ago before he left for the war and then immediately went to start on his assembly line of pictures- that he'd wait. You can't fault him for it though, because you were studying to further your life and in your mother's eyes catch a more suitable husband than Elvis Presley- Elvis the Pelvis- who she figured would have no career when he came back to the states. You've never been so thankful she was wrong though, and while it was a surprise to see Elvis show up on campus you couldn't help but feel flattered by the attention and the fact that he cared enough and you supposed missed you enough to come find you despite you never getting back in contact with him.

There is another part of you, the part of you that's currently spread out on your shared bed with your now husband between your legs licking at your clit with no signs of stopping despite how your fingers have his black locks of hair clenched in between them as you pull ever so softly at them. That part of you? Oh that part of you is so thankful he's slept with other people because you know that've taught him the skills he didn't have before. Skills that have you trying to ride his face while his hands hold down your thighs and hips, preventing much real movement from happening.

"Elvis." His name leaves you lips in a whisper, almost as if that's the loudest you can speak. "Baby- Don't- Want more."

He pulls away his face at don't and want more assuming you meant the words to be put together. You've told him to stop before and not meant it so it never hurts for him to double check where you're at so to speak. "You alright?" He murmurs, looking up at you in between placing a kiss to your inner thigh.

You blink at him once, twice, three times before focusing on his face and answering appearing just a little bashful. "Yeah. Just- Want more than your tongue."

The way his lips curl into a smirk is positively sinful and serves to remind you that once again, the boy you had left behind who you had told to break things off with you had been left behind and was replaced by this rather confident man. He moves off the bed and proceeds to crawl on top of you, his hand moving to pull back his foreskin before entering you, bottoming out as slowly as he could. Your breath leaves your body at the sensation as you allow yourself a kiss to his lips, tasting yourself faintly as you do. His thrusts start to increase as he places kisses down the column of your throat, your head lolling backward to allow him better access. You hear words coming out of his mouth, murmurs about how much he loves you, how much he loves how responsive you are and how he's such a lucky goddamn man to have you. It has your body heating up more than it already was, the praise rushing to your head, filling you with a burning fire that you're hoping he can continue to quench. His hand slides in between the two of you, cupping your pubic mound just for a moment before slipping his fingers next you your clit. You don't need the stimulation, necessarily, usually the brush of his cock against you when he thrusts can do the job but he seems to want to spoil you today. It seems like he wants to wrench every bit of pleasure from you today.

He lets your hips meet his thrusts, somehow keeping his fingers playing ever so teasingly with your clit in a way that has you just dangling on the edge of cumming as you chase that high. Your eyes had fallen shut at one point, too overwhelmed with the sensation of seeing him look at you with love and lust all rolled into one. He grunts something that sounds like "goddamn" and that's what causes you to open your eyes to see his brow furrowed in concentration as he does a particularly rough thrust that has you barreling over the edge. The coil in your abdomen just breaks so suddenly you barely have a chance to warn him your brain only allowing you to say his name over and over like a prayer.

"It's like a goddamn river down here you're so wet. Cumming so damn much." He's muttering to himself but you realize he's not wrong as he's sliding with so much ease and you feel a bit of a wet spot forming underneath you. Oh. He had done it again, wrenched that sort of orgasm out of you that he called squirting. You'd be embarrassed but the way it has him losing his mind, has him thrusting quicker just to find his own release demolishes any ability for you to be embarrassed, especially after he cums, his head falling to your shoulder and biting it lightly with a groan. He stays on top of you for a moment, both of you too fucked out to really care about needing to clean up and realizing neither one of your legs is going to immediately work. When you both have caught your breath and your bearings, Elvis nuzzles at your nose, a small smile gracing his lips. He looks, if you had to guess, pretty pleased with himself. "Ya squirted again. Keep doin' that and 'm gonna get an ego 'bout it."

Your lips purse as you shake your head. "As if you don't already have an ego." You pause. "Keep doing what you've been doing and I'll try and have it happen every time."

He looks at you with a raised eyebrow. "That a challenge, darlin'?"

The only answer you give him is a shrug before you find yourself being rolled on top of him with a trail of kisses being peppered from your neck to your chest.

And it was a challenge, not that you would ever tell him that.

[misguidedasgardian]

The Lifeaters (I.4)

IV. Pumpkins, mischief, and trolls

MASTERLIST

Chapter Summary: You were testing barriers

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Cursing, magical objects, Mugglephobia, injuries in Quidditch

Wordcount: 2.6 k

Notes: Here we go again muahaha This ofc isn’t getting enough traction and I get it… I really hope that it does later on because I'm really excited  :( 

You were in the astronomy tower with Blaise, Draco and Matthew, you had brought, as promised, your telescope and were trying to explain the homework to Matt, that was only mocking the boys and not paying attention, it was sort of frustrating

When he spoke to you, Draco quickly answered for you, or simply stood between the both of you, you didn’t understand why, but finally he managed to see the constellation he picked and wrote down some things in a parchment, and then it became late and you had to come back to the commonroom so you wouldn’t be caught after hours out of bed.

Blaise and Matthew walked in front of you, and you managed to grab Draco and pull him back, as soon as you were walking by his side you asked him, point blank

“Are you ashamed of me?”, you asked bluntly, he looked at you frowning, like that was the most stupid thing you had ever say

“Why would you think that?”, he snapped

“You never introduced me to your other friends”, you said quickly

“I did! you know Crabbe and Goyle”, he said easily

“But not Nott and Zabini”, you corrected, “Or Matthew”

“He is different”, he said, quickly, “I didn’t know it was so important”

“I feel like I’m an outsider”, you said

“YOU ARE NOT!”, he snapped

“Is it because we don’t know who my father was?”, you asked shyly

“We know he was one of the sacred 28 that is enough for me!”, he said back, yes actually that is the only thing you knew about him, him and the fact you didn't have any direct family like grandparents or uncle and aunts

“But still…”, you murmured

He had this guilty look on his face, after he told you you couldn’t borrow his racing broom he had at the manor, when he didn’t want to share but he felt guilty because it was you

“You are my best friend”, he said, as he was actually not only apologizing but giving an explanation. 

You decided to drop it, as you got to the common room and separated to go to your own rooms.

“Good night”, you said shyly

“Good night”, said Draco and Blaise as they walked towards their room, and Matthew just stood there and watched you go inside your room.

The very next day, you had defense against the dark arts, which you, by reading your book, thought it was going to be the most interesting class, but alas, you had Professor Quirrel

He wasn’t a bad teacher, but the way he spoke nervously, and stuttered a lot, made you nervous and it was hard to follow his instructions, and he always spoke sentences as questions, so you didn’t know if he was making a statement

But you did well in his class

And just like that, weeks went by and now you were enjoying the Hallowe'en feast, you loved Halloween, you loved to carve the pumpkins, and the candy, and you felt like it was the only day of the year in which wizards and witches could mingle in the muggleborn without being treated as weird

The muggles were the weird ones, you thought 

Anyways, tomorrow, the classes were suspended because of the holiday, and you were going to go to the pumpkin patch outside of Hargrid’s house to grab pumpkins to carve and bewitch. It was one of the few activities that were available for first and second years since you weren’t allowed to go to Hogsmeade, the little town near the castle grounds 

Draco did not want to go, under any circumstances to go near “Harry Potter’s best friend Hagrid”, but you did, so he was forced to accompany you and Millicent, who also showed interest

“I dare you to eat one of those”, mocked Mathhew to Draco, pointing at a bowl of magical gummy eyes, they were enchanted to look and move like real eyes, but they were made of gummy, but they give you the creeps because of how… wet… they looked

“No way!”, laugh Draco, “I’ll give you my next treat box if you eat one”, you giggled as you grabbed a huge black and orange lolly as a dessert

“TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!”, a scream interrupted everyone as professor Quirrel entered the great hall running desperately, “TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!”, he screamed again as he was running to the huge table where the teachers were, “I thought you should now!”, he said wobbly, and collapsed to the floor

You exchanged concerned looks with Draco and you both screamed at the top of your lungs in desperation alongside all of the students

A troll! They were huge, smelly and dangerous!

“SILENCE!”, Screamed Professor Dumbledore, “Everyone will please, not panic. Now, Prefects will lead their houses back to the dormitories. Teachers will follow me to the dungeons”, he concreted, and your own Prefect did his best, though you all pushed each other to exit the hall, considering that your common room was actually near the dungeons 

But you didn’t encounter any trolls on your way there, and then you were safe inside it.

The very next day, the only thing everyone was talking about, is how Potter single handedly defeated the mountain troll that sneaked into the school, Draco was frowning all day in the pumpkin patch until you brought the pumpkins back to the common room.

It was a fun afternoon, MIlicent and you had carved the pumpkins, and Umbra was perched on your chair, eating the seeds you had leftover, it was quite funny actually.

You carved a toothy grin on your pumpkin, with sharp eyes, it looked a bit diabolical, MIlicent opted for a more complacent face for hers.

“You have the spell?”, you asked, just when Draco came back accompanied by Blaise, Theo, Matthew, Greg, Vince, Pansy and Daphne

“What are you both doing?”, asked Theo, making you both blush, it was no secret that he was the cutest boy in your class

“Head full of seeds, a funny bloke, make this pumpkin talk and joke!”, she chanted pointing at her pumpkin with her wand, and in a second the pumpkin started moving its face

“Welll…. hello!”, he said with a sharp voice, you gasped, surprised, taking out your wand, when the pumpkin started to speak rapidly, looking all around 

“Wicked!”, muttered Crabb, and everyone grabbed a pumpkin and started carving 

“Head full of seeds, a funny bloke, make this pumpkin talk and joke!”, you repeated religiously, and surely enough, the face of your pumpkin started moving, showing you an even wider, more devilish smirk

“Hello little lady”

“Would you tell me a joke?”, you asked

“No… but I know some good ol’ limericks that might interest you”, you were concerned to say the least, “There was a professor at Hogwarts, who had a complete set of Rose Quartz, he cleaned them and used them, but then he stored his…”

“NO!”, you interrupted him, afraid he would say something naughty

Your friends made their own Pumpkins, and they they brought them to life

Let’s just say that didn’t end well, you learn like 20 naughty words, and the noise got so loud, Professor Snape quashed all your pumpkins because they started singing dirty songs and jokes who made all the people in the painting to go away embarrassed and upset 

That was very funny, you had never laughed so much in your life, to see Snape’s face 

You giggled when you remembered it 

The other thing you did while you had free time, is to search for the trophies in the common room, specially the ones of Quidditch, your house won a lot! you had to train A LOT this summer so next year you were going to be able to make it to the team, as it was yours and Draco’s dream.

Only one year the Slytherin team had won every year, and you manage to steal a picture of the yearbook 1978 of the library of it, and you managed to actually ask the prefect to see that year’s playbook, and studied the plays, which he found odd, but didn’t say anything

Speaking of Quidditch….

Today was your first Quidditch game! not as players but as spectators, much to Draco’s dismay and pouts 

Your first Quidditch Game! 

But you were excited nonetheless, you were going to play against Gryffindor, the best game of the year!, and you couldn’t wait, maybe Potter would fall of his broom

So you put on your favorite piece of clothing of the uniform, the thick wooden gray and emerald green scarf, you fixed your hair in a way that it wouldn’t bother your eyes, because it might be windy up there in the boxes, and you ran out of the girl’s rooms to meet Draco in the Common Room

Soon you were cheering up in the boxes when the Slytherin team show up first, obviously, and they started flying around the field

You and Draco and the rest of your year were all in attendance in the same box and cheered loudly for the team, they looked so cool! you loved the dark green and the capes flying behind them, you couldn’t wait to join the team next year! 

A boy Lee Jordan, from Gryffindor, was narrating the match, and you thought it was like watching a game between England and Bulgaria narrated by a Bulgarian, so… Madam Hooch, your teacher from the flying lessons, was refereeing, as she stood in the middle of the field.

She had her broom in her hand, and the players of both teams got together around her ina  circle, the seeked even higher from the ground. 

Soon she grabbed the Quaffle, and threw it into the air, starting the game. 

A girl from the Gryffindor teams snatched it pretty quickly, she was fast and you really admired that.

You found Quidditch really breathtaking, professional players were so quick and smooth, and this was proven to be no different, your first Hogwarts Quidditch match! wow.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor -- what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too --"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor., giggled the narrator, "And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve -- back to Johnson and -- no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes -- Flint flying like an eagle up there -- he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle -- that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and -- OUCH -- that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger -- Quaffle taken by the Slytherins -- that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger -- sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which -- nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes -- she's really flying -- dodges a speeding Bludger -- the goal posts are ahead 149 -- come on, now, Angelina -- Keeper Bletchley dives -- misses -- GRYFFINDORS SCORE!" 

How could he breathe? you wondered 

The Gryffindors cheered loudly, luckily they were on the other side of the field, they were so annoying.

You saw both seekers, Potter and Higgs, flying above them all, watching carefully their surroundings for the sneakiest of the balls, the golden snitch

you looked back to the field and to your joy, your captain Marcus Flint took hold of the Quaffle, as he evaded a Bludger throw at him by one of the Weasley Twins

The father of the Weasleys had been to your house in the name of the ministry, searching for strange artifacts; your grandfather had to come all the way from France to recover dear artifacts that were family treasures. He was so upset it required weeks to convince him to let you stay in England.

But anyways, back to the game in question….

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the -- wait a moment -- was that the Snitch?"

The game seemed to stop as Pucey dropped the quaffle as he looked over his shoulders at the golden dop flying furiously and randomly.

Slytherin’s seeker darted towards it, faster that you had ever seen, and Potter too.

He had a Nimbus, and that gave him clear advantage.

A professor had given him that broom, was that even fair? You shook your head trying o wipe those thoughts out of your mind, and then… Flint scored for Slytherin

The entire box and the one next to it exploded in cheers and chants 

Flint was waiting for a pass from Pucey, intercepting Harry and he got himself an infraction for interfering, you growled in frustration 

The bludgers started to take more stage, flying more furiously as Gryffindor took possession again and the game became quicker and even more violent, of course the Slytherin were on edge because of the skills of Harry, which surprised everyone as it was his very first game

And then, loud gasps and shouts took everyone’s attention to Potter. When you managed to spot him, he was flying frantically, it seemed like he had lost control of his broom! you wanted to laugh, his broom was failing him! but then you gasped when he almost fell from it, barely hanging on with one of his hands, he was too high in the air! he could really harm himself if he falls

“What's happening to Potter?”, asked Zabini

“Too much broom for such a little Git”, mocked Draco and everyone laughed 

He started zigzagging in the air and everyone saw it, screaming and gasping, the Gryffindors asking for a timeout

But when Madame Hooch did anything to prevent it, the game kept going, Slytherin had taken possession again and 

You were winning! with 90 points and Gryffindor by 30, it was so exciting! you were wondering if they could manage to make more points that the snitch was worth, as you saw Terence HIggs and he was flying randomly, clearly he didn’t have the snitch on sight

You turned back to look at Potter and he seemed to have regain balance and control of his broom

You couldn’t believe that barely weeks ago he didn’t even know what Quidditch was and now he was playing for Seeker in Gryffindor

The snitch apparently showed itself to Potter, as he and even Terence spotted and started chasing it quickly 

They both were pretty high in the air and darted downwards towards the ground quickly, HIggs stopped but Potter kept going, his arm in the air ready to catch it. 

He fell to the ground, and he looked like he was going to be sick and then, to everyone’s surprise, he coughed up the snitch. 

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head

Nobody really knew what was going on

"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it", your captain fought hard for the “win” to be dismissed, but the win was proclaimed and there was no turning back

Draco, instead of sad because we lost, he had that face that told you he was cooking up a plan

“The team is there, we need a better seeker”, and he was going to be that seeker next year

You smiled back at him

We still had two more games to watch, against Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff

You still had chances to win the Quidditch cup

[solemn-marauders]

Hi there! I was inspired by your patronus post that I wrote a continuation with your MC. Hope you like it!

Thea only knew there could be one place where Sebastian could be hiding. She thanked Professor Hecat for her time, leaving the classroom with hurried steps. What she just learned was… enlightening and overwhelming at the same time, leaving Thea to draw her own conclusion. What happened earlier… It was Sebastian’s love confession exposed in front of the whole class to see. 

Which led the white haired Gryffindor down the stairs, and into that familiar grandfather’s clock. She took a deep breath and waved her wand, the clock revealing itself to the entrance to the Undercroft. Without any hesitation, Thea stepped in, her heart beating from out of her chest. 

Upon landing in front of the gate, she saw Ominis and Sebastian prancing around rather awkwardly, as if they made an uncomfortable revelation. Thea didn’t want to announce her arrival, but the loud noise of the gate shifting and opening to reveal her presence snapped the Slytherin boys back to reality, looking in her direction. Ominis gave a sigh as he took his cue to leave. 

“She’s here, Sebastian. I think I’ll take my leave.” 

Ominis made his way out, giving Thea a small smile as he left. Thea smiled back in return, then her eyes turned to look at Sebastian. He was shifting uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze. Once they heard the gates of the Undercroft close, Thea gulped as she approached Sebastian. 

“Sebastian… I…”

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“Sorry?” 

Thea was taken back at his words. Surely there was more to that. Thea got confused, then tried to read Sebastian’s face for any sort of sign. Whatever charm he had was gone, leaving behind one that fumbled about his words and uncertain on what to do. 

“Just… sorry. It wasn’t intentional.” 

Thea scoffed at that statement.

“It wasn’t? It looked extremely intentional to me.” 

“Just… leave it. None of that happened.” 

“Dismissing it already?” 

“I told you to leave it, Thea.”

Thea paused when Sebastian snarled those words at her. They always teased and shared a few jokes, but she knew this time Sebastian meant business. Sighing, she decided to change the conversation and get straight to the point. 

“All right. Then tell me… what was your happy thought?” 

Sebastian finally looked at her, giving a moment of silence as he composed himself. His hands clenched into fists that made his knuckle white, his breaths were heavy that Thea could see him heaving. It took all of Sebastian’s will to admit it. 

“When I first conjured a Patronus… I was thinking of the times I played Gobstones with Anne and Ominis. I tried to use it again but… after what happened last year it became corrupted. It was just sad and… I could no longer feel joy in it after knowing I had failed both of them. Then… I thought of your smile, our adventures, every single conversation I had with you…It gave a burst of happiness I never felt before. Merlin, Thea. Do you have any idea that since you walked into the Great Hall last year, you caught my eye? And have you ever seen me behave the way I do to you to any other girl?” 

Thea could only blink when Sebastian asked her those questions. Her whole body froze, leaving Sebastian to take her silence as rejection as he got up, looking defeated as he muttered to her. 

“I’ll see you around.” 

But Sebastian didn’t move. His body froze when he felt Thea’s hand holding his arm, as if begging for him to stay. Sebastian dared himself to look at her face, one of anguish and despair. She looked like she was about to cry when her voice, barely above a whisper, asked him a question in return. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I thought in return?” 

Sebastian paused, seeing her emotions about to spill as he nodded, leaving Thea to get herself together and muster whatever courage she had left. Wiping away any stray tears, Thea took a deep breath and spewed her confession.

“I wasn’t getting it right. Whatever memory I was thinking about wasn't strong enough. Then… you saw my sad sparks. Honestly… I was trying to get you out of my head until you pointed out that I was on the right path. I stopped fighting it…and… well you know the rest.” 

Sebastian’s jaw dropped at that confession. Thea…Thea was also thinking of him? Just as much he was thinking of her. Him… of all people she could have had at Hogwarts, Thea is in love with him. Sebastian’s stance relaxed, thinking he would never gain her love after seeing how far he went to cure Anne that it cost everything. Sebastian awkwardly closed the gap between them, but he leaned in as he felt Thea’s hand move from his arm to his shoulders, trailing on his neck and landing on his cheek, her other hand followed suit. He started to feel a little bold and wanting to take his chance, but his eyes widened with shock. 

Thea leaned in, giving Sebastian a passionate kiss. 

Overcoming what just happened, Sebastian swooned and gave into her kiss, hungrily responding to her lips as he held her waist, not intending to let go. He thought he lost everything that made life bearable for a moment. He never thought of himself worthy of her, but she chose him in the end. He wasn't going to let her go. No… he’ll court her, marry her to show he means it. He wants her by his side as they raise their own brood of Sallows, until his own hair turns gray to match the white in her hair. 

They parted their kiss when their breaths felt short, both of them looking at each other with wonder and glee. Thea and Sebastian gave each other a hug, inhaling each other’s scent and feeling warm despite the cold conditions of the Undercroft. 

It’s the start of a new adventure. And all it took was a Patronus.

THIS IS SO SWEET! 🥹

I can’t believe you felt inspired to write about Thea after reading one of my drabbles. I’m touched and honored. This was such a gift, thank you.

I’ll, hopefully, be posting my own continuation of my Patronus scene soon.

[chopper-witch]

I’m finally gonna share this story of mine about my grandma. Because I love her very much and will be changing my name within the next few years using her maiden name 💖.

Two of my grandma’s best friends were two lesbians who never got to be married because they were so old when gay marriage finally became legalized nationwide. A local religious figure associated with a college everyone loves, she despises because that religious figure (also a woman) is the reason one of her friends was fired from her job as a professor - the figure found out she was a lesbian.

When the first of them died (both are dead now), she took time to handwrite letters to every elected legislator who worked to legalize gay marriage in the state. And community members. She wrote probably 100+ letters.

My sister explained the newer pride flag to her back in May, that has the trans flag and black and brown included and my grandma was interested in one of the stickers we had with it on it that also had something about pronouns on it. She got upset when we told her some people don’t use other people’s correct pronouns and names when they choose to use ones other than the ones assigned to them. (My dad got us a bunch of stuff from frisbee college nationals he was observing).

She grew up in the bible belt south but grew up to disagree with the church and its teachings. She had experienced some of the worst of the cult like behavior and refuses to participate. She still respects religion and faith practices, but personally does not partake and definitely does not agree with most of it. But two of her kids ended up in families that say grace at dinner, so she works to understand while maintaining her boundaries.

She is honest about her boundaries though - she hasn’t seen one of my cousins and one of my uncles since 2019 because they refuse to get vaccinated, and that makes her sad and frustrated but she refuses to budge on anything that is serious.

Sometimes she is still horrendously wrong. She’s old, she really did grow up in a different time and different place. But holy shit is she so willing to understand and learn and love.

And that really is what means so much to me. That she is willing to learn and even when she doesn’t get it, she understands it means something to those she loves. And I just love her so much. So, so much.

[badarthistorian-blog]

4/14/24

I'm back.

Well, I guess I shouldn't say I'm back - really, what I mean is that I went back to my alma mater yesterday (undergrad, not grad), sat in the crowd while current seniors presented their final BA thesis papers, reminisced about how much I miss the art world, and left the presentation feeling like I just had to do something to scratch that "why did I ever leave art behind, I need to get back to it right now!" itch.

What hasn't happened in the eight years since I was last here? The 2016 version of me who wrote the few posts that follow did have it rough, yes (it's hard not to look back at those entries and remember how lonely that time of my life was) - but little did she know that she only had a few years left of calling herself an arts professional. Years that I don't think I would redo necessarily, but I might have sunk my teeth in a little more if I could predict the detour my career path would take.

I only lasted in NYC for another month after my last post. I experienced some of the best times of my life in the four months I was there, but damn was it lonely. I was lucky enough to have a very good friend who lived in the city just a train ride away and who was there for almost every one of those best experiences, but my job sucked; my living space sucked; my boss sucked. If even one of those things was better it might have made all the difference, but it wasn't meant to be.

I packed my two suitcases and moved to New England on December 23, 2016. If it wasn't for the friends I'd made in grad school (and, let's be honest, my boyfriend at the time), I'd have no doubt ended up back at home in the Midwest. But I also had an opportunity I couldn't pass up - managing a photography gallery, essentially my dream job.

In the three years I was at the gallery, I saw, matted, framed, shipped, and catalogued some of the best works the history of photo has to offer. I worked a week-long photo show back in NYC and, again, experienced some of the most standout moments of my life (clearly NYC has that power over me; as my uncle would say, "that city has jazz in the air").

I stayed at the gallery for almost three years before one owner retired and the other decided to shift to an at-home gallery - aka, I was out of a job.

And that's how I landed in fundraising. A series of subsequent steps led me back to the Midwest and into a more suitable fundraising position for my personality (research-based, behind-the-scenes, and a bit more covert than asking for gifts). The boyfriend I had in New England is now my sweet husband. We travel, see family often, and are very happy.

But.

Yesterday, I caught up with one of my old professors. My history of photo professor, to be exact. He remembered what I'd shared with him during my last update - from 2017, when I was just learning the ropes of photo gallery management. When he asked what I was doing now, I told him and tried not to sound too bashful about no longer being in the art world. His response was, "That's great, but you were so close - you had your foot in the door." Polite, but disappointed. A not-so-subtle way of reminding me that I was there! I was doing it! I was a successful art (photo) historian!

But then... I left it behind. And I left it behind for all the reasons I started Bad Art Historian in the first place.

I found that the people who worked in the art world full-time weren't much better than the students who went through my grad program with me. Often, they were standoffish. I fairly consistently felt like I wasn't in on the joke, or that I wasn't doing art "right" because I wasn't high brow enough. I was intimidated by the people I indirectly worked with, and as someone who very much thrives on connecting with others, this left me feeling rejected.

That's not to say I didn't try. When my boss told me the photo gallery would be closing, I applied for plenty of art jobs. Assistant curatorships, gallery sitters, program coordinators. None of them worked out. Fundraising fell in my lap, and I wasn't in a position to deny it.

Honestly, It felt like a good change - welcome, in fact, especially when I very quickly realized that the people on my team were my kind of people. Friendly, outgoing, social, and supportive.

Which makes my photo professor's comment all the more rattly, because I had to remind myself that I left for a reason. I still hope that life will lead me back to the arts - but I don't think I betrayed myself by leaving in the first place. Accepting - and being okay with - that choice is difficult, but a worthy endeavor nonetheless.

Anyway. I'm back - maybe? We'll see how long this renewed energy lasts. But in this moment, I'm glad to be here.

[awrldalone]

28th September 2023, 11.08pm

I haven't been sleeping properly. I wake up early to get to class on time, before the sun rises and stores open, but I also go to bed late at night. 

Yesterday I had a nightmare, its memory is already foggy in my mind but what I remember from the end, before I woke up, is that I was putting on my clothes, tightening my belt, when someone started opening the door to my apartment. I yelled to stop, and a small old lady dressed in hiking gear showed herself. Her face covered in wrinkles and furrows, her teeth were yellow with decay. Grotesque is the only word I can use to fully describe her. Behind her, a few steps back, there was a man. He was taller than both of us but just as old as the lady, rotting like her. I was horrified – not because of their mutilated appearance - but because I recognized them. We had already met, in Venice, and with evil in their eyes they had sworn they would find me. The woman spoke, her voice like a creaky door. She said she had finally arrived to my house. She said she arrived in M. when it was too late already, when I had already left. I was petrified. I woke up, breathing heavily in the dark. It must've been a few minutes before 2am. The only thing I could think of was that I was tired, but my body was scared, my nerves tensed, and I struggled to fall back asleep just to wake up a few hours later. Had I not slept so little in the past week I would have stayed awake, but finally exhaustion won over fear and for a few hours I was calm.

The dream contrasts so greatly with how yesterday went. One of my poems was accepted for publishing, after so many e-mails and so many submissions and so many rejections. It's the second one ever, but this time it's in print. When I saw the notification I was chatting with R. We talked for the first time yesterday, before class, because I sat next to him. He recommended me a book. I want to become good friends with him. He doesn't smile much, I noticed. We were talking about Anatomie d'une chute, a movie we watched, and I saw the e-mail notification. I did not open it, I just read the name of the sender. I assumed it was another rejection, but when I clicked on it my heart started beating so fast. Every letter I laid my eyes on was at least three beats of my heart. "Thank you for sharing your writing with us. We are pleased to accept – for inclusion in our Winter 2023 issue." 

They wrote that they will be publishing it online in November, and that the physical copies of their issue will be available in December. I don't even like the poem that much anymore, but the relief I feel is immeasurable. I told no one at university, I kept it to myself and texted M. His reaction disappointed me. Maybe I was expecting too much, maybe it is not in fact that big of a deal.  

This morning's class was long. Three hours. For the first twenty minutes I struggled to keep up with the professor's pace, writing down words with a weak handwriting, sloppily making letters look like one another. Taking notes seems to be hard for French students already, and it's only harder for me. But I'm stubborn. I hold my pen and listen to what the professor says, the regularity of all the laptops in the room being typed on is like a metronome. It's easy to take notes on a laptop: you just have to write fast, if you're a good enough stenographer you might even be able to type every word without missing a beat. When you write your hand, not only does it hurt after three hours, but you have to already begin a process of re-elaboration of the information that's being absorbed by your brain. Sometimes I end up writing a few words in English or Italian, because I cannot figure out how to quickly express the same concept in French.

The ink of my pen ran out. I had a spare one. I have been writing so much. 

After class I did not go home directly. I walked around. Finished reading The Year of Magical Thinking, and in turn bought a used copy of Slouching Towards Bethlehem. I like Didion's writing. I have a tendency to get interested in a specific kind of writer – Didion, Sontag, Ernaux – who writes so personally, so precisely. No words are wasted, every word weighs the correct amount. I waste a lot of words, especially when I write. I'd like to be more concise.

I walked, my new book in my bag, in Rue Voltaire. I wanted to visit a showroom by an art collective I follow on Instagram, but when I reached the address something stopped me from opening the glass door. I looked inside, a girl was sitting at a desk, scrolling through her phone. The room was small, dark, the light was off, and I could only see two sculptures and some mannequins wearing knitted dresses and two-pieces. I turned around and ended up wandering in the Marais. I will not hide the fact that part of me would have loved for a photographer to stop me in the street, asking me to take a picture of what I was wearing – but none of that happened. 

Paris is so big that you could go months, years maybe, without passing by certain streets. The places of the city I spend most of my time in did not even feel like what I had envisioned Paris during fashion week to be. But the Marais was livelier, I saw some well-dressed people and took a mental note of their outfits.

I noticed there's a Max Mara on the way to my house. I associate the store to my mother and to the city center, so the idea of living next to one makes my stomach turn. Not yet sure why.

It feels odd, profane, to call this apartment my house, my home. I'm eating at home, I said on one the phone when An. called me earlier today to ask me if I'd have lunch with them. But I still call Venice home, instinctively. I mentioned a store when I was talking to Ca. I told her it was near my home, and that I could get glass beads for ten euros a kilo. Then I corrected myself, adding that the store neat my house in Venice.

-c.

[carolinemillerbooks]

New Post has been published on Books by Caroline Miller

New Post has been published on https://www.booksbycarolinemiller.com/musings/i-die-you-die-they-die/

I Die, You Die, They Die

“Suicide,” someone murmured after reading the announcement that a woman had died at the retirement center. “She was estranged from her family,” said another who stood beside the first speaker. Her remark rang true because the death notice asked that no condolences be left for the family. A shiver of melancholy ran through me as I read it. Being the last of my tribe, I realized that upon my death, no one would need consoling.  Headstones proliferate like autumn leaves in a graveyard but no matter how touching their inscription, the words are unreliable tributes to a life.  A generation passes and few remember. After eons come and go, archeologists may take an interest in a burial mound. And, if they find a necklace or smooth stone left beside someone they have disentombed, they are elated rather than grieved because the found object has been shorn of its memories.       Sometimes two bodies share the same grave, a discovery that raises a question.  Are these bones those of lovers? Or does a mother lie eternally with her stillborn child?  Their deathly embrace tells a story but who remembers? The desire to escape oblivion is potent. A hundred thousand years before homo sapiens walked the earth, the prehuman Homo Naledis buried their dead with mementos before carving the histories of these loved ones on cave walls.  Again, researchers rejoice because while the personal memory of these beings is erased, something about the hominin culture remains.  Patriarchy has a long presence in the affairs of humanoids, for example.  DNA studies of ancient sites suggest that females left their home community to join another– suggesting the probability that they followed their male companion to his home tribe.  Memory is a frail weapon with which to hold back the dark. Technology may come to serve us better.  In an earlier blog,  I wrote that one day we might download our stories into avatars but that would be a pale version of immortality. A combination of technology and biology is also possible, like current efforts to merge Artificial Intelligence (AI) with brain cells.  Will the result make machines smarter?  Or will humans become superhuman? Either way, will the merger help us conquer death?  We must wait to see. Some among us seek a less ambitious goal. With diet and medicinal cocktails, they hope to reverse the aging process.  Regimens like theirs are spartan, often eliminating meat and sugar.  To obtain a longer life, will humans forgo their hamburgers with cokes? Again, we must wait to see. Beyond tinkering with the human lifespan lies an existential question.  Having plundered our planet’s resources to the point of self-extinction, do we have enough time to save our species with discoveries and technological advances?  Or, is our destiny to grovel in the dust for a sip of water? To be or not to be IS  the overwhelming question.  The woman who committed suicide at my retirement center made her choice freely. Others have done the same because without love and respect what is life?  Germaine Greer, a woman near my years, ponders a related question: how to age with dignity?  Once a  professor,  feminist, and author of numerous books, The Female Eunuch most famous among them, and a person brilliant enough to disabuse William F. Buckley of his misconceptions about women’s liberation at 84 faces a growing infirmity. To maintain her independence, she moved into a retirement center.  The solution proved to be unworkable.  There, she suffered endless days of Bingo and bus outings to places that looked the same.  This she endured for ten months, being subjected all the while to abuse from  fellow residents who repeatedly told her to  “shut up.” The treatment must have come as a surprise to a person accustomed to being paid to speak. Fortunately, a brother took pity on Germaine and built a studio in his home where she could live in the bosom of her family but in solitude.  I say, “Happy is a woman with a compassionate brother.”  Happy is the individual who dies loved. Science and technology have the power to lengthen life spans but human attitudes toward aging are slow to change.  In the United States, prejudice against the elderly is the last reservoir of disdain that people feel free to express, as if growing old were a personal failure.  Teenagers may be forgiven for imagining themselves to be immortal, but tyrants who feel the same are fools.   Is it the light that falls from the swords of their armies that blind these dictators? Are they unable to see that like any pauper, they serve no higher purpose than to satisfy the appetites of worms? How greater their history might have been had they considered our common destiny and devoted themselves to acts of kindness.  In death do triumph and failure humbly meet.   (The Victory City by Salman Rushdie, Thorndike Press, 2023, pg. 531.)

[humdelhi]

“It was 2012. I had left my job in Hyderabad for a new one in Gurgaon as she had been working as an associate professor at a pharmacy college in Rohtak, while our son lived with her parents. We had been married for four years, but our finances never allowed us to stay together. Hence, she was excited and wanted to set up the house at the earliest so that we could call our son to live with us. We had a long to-do-list for our new house in Gurgaon. We went to a neighbourhood furniture market. It was a sunny afternoon. She settled for a brown couch and we were looking for a table to go with our sofa when she felt some painful twitches on her right cheek. I could sense that the twitches were not normal. However, I didn’t share my fears with her and we came back home. The next day, I took her to a multi-speciality hospital a few kilometres away from our house. She was wrongly diagnosed to be suffering from brain tuberculosis. After 6 months of wrong diagnosis and treatment, when we went for a brain MRI, we came to know that the size and number of the brain nodules had increased. It was also discovered that she was suffering from stage-4 of lung cancer. It is a very rare form of cancer that had already spread to her brain and formed multiple tumours there.

She was hardly 28, and a non-smoker. How could she get lung cancer at such a young age? What would happen to our 3-year-old son? In a few seconds millions of questions crossed my mind, and a deep fear of losing my wife made me numb. I don’t remember how much time I took to regain my senses when the doctor broke the news to us. I looked at her and she looked back into my eyes. She said, “Don’t worry, everything will be all right.” She was determined to fight the deadly disease. And I desperately wanted her to win this battle. No matter how rare her cancer is, I was sure that there would be medicines to defeat it.

The doctor prescribed chemotherapy as a surgery was not possible at such an advanced stage of cancer. We read each and every thing available on the internet about that type of lung cancer -- its survival rate, its treatment, what one should eat, what one should avoid. We didn’t want to go wrong this time -- already six precious months were wasted as she had undergone wrong treatment. We went for the first cycle of chemotherapy with a lot of positivity. But nothing was working in our favour. In second month, after third cycle of chemotherapy, the drug reacted adversely. She suddenly felt breathlessness and severe pain in her shoulder. I rushed her to the hospital emergency. A large amount of cancerous fluid had accumulated around her lungs and heart. Her heart could stop beating anytime due to fluid pressure. It took her many days to come out of ICU.

As chemotherapy had stopped working on her, the doctors suggested molecular therapy. She responded well to the drug for 22 months before her body developed resistance to it as well. The next generation of molecular therapy drugs were available in the US only, and we didn’t have any money to buy them. On the other hand, her disease had started progressing aggressively -- it had spread from the left lung to the right lung. The new drug was beyond my financial means. I didn’t know what to do. I felt helpless for the first time in my life. We brought our son home, so that he could spend as much time as possible with his mother. Meanwhile, I met a lot of doctors, wrote letters to various pharmaceutical companies to know how that drug could be brought to India at a reduced price. I was told that a new drug can only be brought to India after it clears clinical trials. Though the pharmaceutical company that manufactured it had already applied for permission on conducting clinical trials in India, they were still waiting for DCGI’s (Drug Controller General of India) approval. Since 2012, our government had made it almost impossible to conduct clinical trials in India. We had to attend oncologists’ conferences and write letters to DGCI to get approval on that drug’s clinical trial. It took us four months, but the drug finally came to India under clinical trials and she became their first patient. She responded well to the new drug. The tumours in her brain shrunk. The cancer in the rest of the body was arrested, and there was improvement in her condition. On top of that, we are proud of the fact that because of our efforts, 17 other cancer patients also got access to the clinical trial which was successful on each and every one of them.

She fought well with the side effects of the drugs which included nausea, vomiting, drowsiness and epileptic convulsions. She were to take this medicine in the morning but we didn’t want to disclose the gravity of the disease to our son, so we consulted the doctor if she can take it in the evening instead. Every evening at 7, she popped this pill before putting our son to sleep. By 10, her condition would worsen. By 3.30 she would sleep to get up again in the morning to send our son to school. She would greet him with a bright smile each morning as if nothing had happened. I would just marvel at her positivity and strength. Such has been her determination that she has even started cycling every morning. It helped her build her stamina to withstand the effect of cancer and its treatment.

Today, she has developed resistance to the new drug as well. She now needs the next line of drugs but they are far from coming to India. She can fight the side-effects of drugs and keep herself positive but how can she fight cancer without any drug? She and many other cancer patients can beat cancer or atleast have a chance to extend their lifespan if they keep getting access to such clinical trials. The US has approved 4 medicines and clinical trials of 19 other medicines which are available as treatment to the type of cancer she has. While India has approved only 2 of those medicines -- her body has developed resistance to both. It’s an ongoing struggle for both us. While she struggles to cope with this disease, I’ve been trying to fight the system to ensure that a new drug is available to her by the time her body develops resistance to the previous one.”

[lyraoftheevergreens]

In The Morning 

Chapter 2

Professor!Snape x Female Student Reader

Summary: 18+ What happens when Snape falls in love with a 7th year student at hogwarts just 8 years after the death of his first love. What will happen when she discovers the darkest sides of him and brings up trauma from her own past. Will she stay with him despite what she learns? Reader is of age.

Warning: 18+ minors do not engage! Smut. Minors do not engage. Not proofread. Minor errors. Sorry. Mention of food. She/her pronouns 

Tag List: Open 🖤

Word count: 3,866

Authors note: thank you all for reading, I’m aware this is more rated R and fast paced then my main fic, none the less I hope you enjoy what I’ve wrote. I’ve been having such a fun time working on this story.

Y/n’s 18th birthday came around quickly that March 9th . Helping Professor Snape passed the time quickly. So when her birthday was suddenly a week away it caused panic to fill her. 

“What’s on your mind.” Professor Snape asked as he noticed Y/n had been more sad then her usual happy self. 

“Oh it’s nothing Professor.”

“You can tell me, if you want.” He said cautiously. 

“I’m fine Professor, thank you. If something does happens your the first person I shall tell.” 

“If you insist.” They left it at that and he continued grading papers. He found himself distracted the rest of the time as to why she would be so upset. He didn’t like when she was upset. She brought so much sunshine to his dull dark life and his sunshine had turned grey. He was brought out of his thoughts from her voice.

“Professor, your potion ingredients have been reorganized.” 

“Thank you Y/n, you may leave.” 

“See you tomorrow sir.” And with that she left. The dread of her birthday plagued her mind. Usually she would try and stay and hang out with him but for now she just wanted to shut away in her bed. And that she did. She made her way to the Slytherin common room then to the girls dormitory where she made her way to her to her shared room with Edith and a few other Slytherin girls and then into her bed. She got in her bed under the covers and wrapped them around her body as she slept for the entire day.  “I have to send an answer to my parents by the end of the week.” Was all she could think of as she went through her week. She walked through life vowing through the motions of her weekly routines for the remainder of the week. When it came to helping Snape she did as she was told and left when she was finished. It made Severus so sad to see her like this. His sweet girl was in such despair it saddened him more than anything. He was determined to figure out what was troubling her and how to make her feel better. 

1 week later 

Her birthday came around a lot sooner then she would have liked. Edith surprised her with a teddy bear and some chocolate from Honey Dukes. 

She went to potions during her first and second break to assist Professor Snape in his classes. After the second class she was told to return back to the potions class room that evening. When she arrived there were deep red roses and a small gift bag. 

“Happy Birthday, if I’m correct. Today is your birthday.” 

“Yes it is, oh thank you Professor.” She said walking to him and hugging him with out a second thought until she realized what she was doing when he didn’t hug back. 

“I’m sorry sir.” 

“No, its okay. Open the bag.” She reached for the bag and inside was a box. A silver necklace with an emerald.

“Oh thank you professor. It’s gorgeous.” Shine exclaimed breathlessly. 

“Would you like me to put it on you?” 

“Oh yes, thank you.” She said turning around and gathering her hair in her hands to give him access to her neck. He took the necklace out of the box and doing the clasp on the back of her neck, his fingers grazed her neck sending shivers down her spine. Gorgeous he thought as admired her stood in front of him. It took all his self control to restrain himself from ravishing her gorgeous neck. She let her hair down and turned around to face him. 

“Thank you Professor, no one has ever put such effort into my birthday before.” 

“How many years are you today.” 

“Eighteen.” She said shyly 

“Hmm.” She’s of age, she’s been of age, Severus thought to him self. Don’t do anything you fool, he told himself. 

“You may go Y/n, I’m sure you would like to spend your birthday with your friends. Don’t discuss your gifts with anyone.” After he spoke every ounce of him screamed for her to stay. 

“I won’t, thank you professor. I shall cherish this in silence.” She gathered her things and walked out the door. She wanted to stay, but didn’t know how to voice it. 

When she arrived at the Slytherin common room there was a large banner that had “happy birthday Y/n!” Written on it. Her friend Edith had planned a large surprise birthday party for her. Y/n spent the rest of the night partying in the Slytherin common room. 

She woke the next morning in her bed and got up and readied herself for the rest of the day. She put the flowers from Professor Snape in a vase and put a disillusionment charm on the necklace before leaving her dorm. When she arrived at breakfast the owls were all delivering there mail to their students when the family owl dropped Y/n’s letter in font of her. 

Y/n, 

Your father and I have been conversing and have come to the conclusion that once you graduate Hogwarts you will have to make an acceptable pure blood marriage any answer other then ,”yes mother,” will have you disowned from the family. What belongings you have now will suffice you. We have been gracious with our time. Consider this your final notice, you have till the end of march to owl your answer.

-Y/M/N

She can’t even be bothered to acknowledge herself as my mother at the end of a letter, at least she allowed me to enjoy my birthday for a short time. She continued her day as usual but with her mothers letter on her mind. Although Voldemort is gone her parents beliefs are all the same. Be in an unhappy marriage or be homeless. Y/n was good at hiding her feelings until that evening in the potions classroom cleaning cauldrons when she began crying into one. Professor Snape watched for a minute not sure what to do. Peer in on her thoughts or acknowledge her tears. He walked up to her and placed a nervous hand her back scared to touch her. When she didn’t flinch he began,”what has you so upset?” 

“My- my-.” She stuttered unable to muster the words out, she began sobbing into her hands. Severus stood there and rubbed her back and that’s when she wrapped her arms around him and began crying into his chest he gently wrapped his arms around her and held her for a few minutes. She began to realize what she was doing and let go of him. Don’t let go Severus thought to himself. As he slowly released his hold on her. 

“I’m so sorry Professor, I don’t know what came over me. I’m so sorry.” She said sniffling. 

“It alright Y/n” 

“Oh I cried all over you I’m so sorry sir.” She said distraught and filled with guilt and embarrassment about to cry again. 

“You’ve been upset for weeks, what’s wrong.” 

“I finish at Hogwarts this year. My parents need to know what my plans are, arranged marriage or be disowned.” 

“What have you decided?” Please don’t marry someone else he said to himself.

“I’m gonna have to be disowned and homeless. I can’t go back there. I’ve met the men they want me to marry, there disgusting Professor.”

“I’ll talk to Dumbledore about your situation, maybe we could get you paid as my assistant.” 

“Thank you professor.” She said and hugged him once more. This time she noticed he hugged back. She could hear his heart beats quicken with her head on his chest. She kept her arms wrapped around him and looked up. He looked down at her. She’s so beautiful after she cries he thought to himself, tear stained cheeks and swollen red lips. Don’t he thought to himself. 

“Professor, why are you so kind to me.” She said in a whisper that he almost didn’t hear. 

“You’ve been quite distraught these past weeks.” 

“Is that all professor.” She looked up at him with those beautiful eyes and he felt as if he could melt in them. 

“Y/n”

“I’ll stop when you let go.” She said, although everything in her screamed,”please don’t let me go! Kiss me, grab me, touch me do something, please!” He starred into her eyes and used legelimancy to make sure his next move was a wise one. He didn’t want to let her go and her thoughts and touch confirmed neither did she. She rubbed his back and he melted under her touch. His hands gently cupping her face. He leaned down and there lips touched, he kissed her so gently but it meant the world to y/n. She kissed him back and he was under her spell from then on. There lips slowly moved together, there tongues danced as y/n deepened the kiss, they stood there for what felt like forever in each others arms. He picked her up and walked her to his desk, sitting her down and not breaking the kiss. Tears started to fall from her face again. Severus broke away and caressed her face with the back of his hand. 

“Did I do something to upset you?”  

“No, your doing everything right.” 

“Then why are you crying again?”

“Just kiss me again. Please.” She begged with her fingers running through his hair. And so he did. He kissed her slowly wanting to savor every moment as if he would open his eyes and it was all a dream. Y/n wrapped her legs around him pulling his body into hers. He let out a small moan at the feeling of her body pressed into his. 

He pulled away and started to kiss down her neck. 

“Where is the necklace I gave you?” 

“I put a disillusionment charm on it.” He then muttered the charm and the disillusionment vanished and the necklace appeared. 

“Why wear it when nobody can see it?” 

“I love it, it’s the nicest gift anyone has ever given me. I want to wear it everyday even if nobody can see it. It’s like a sexy set of lingerie under your clothes. It’s thrilling to know you have it on and nobody else knows.” He went back to kissing her neck and began unbuttoning the first few buttons oh her shirt giving him access to her shoulders. Her head fell back and she let out a breathy moan from all the kissing, licking sucking and biting being done on her. With that Severus instantly felt himself grow hard at the sound.

“Have you been with anyone before?” 

“I don’t quite understand sir.” 

“Are you a virgin my love?” 

“Oh that. Hmm. Yes.” She answered shyly and started looking away from Severus. He grabbed her face and forced her to look at him.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of darling. We just won’t take this any further today.” 

“Oh okay. But what if I want to?” 

“I don’t want your first time here in this room, on my desk. It should be as special as you.” 

“Thank you sir.”

“Severus.”

“Right, Severus.” 

Severus re buttoned her shirt and walked away. That’s when she noticed the prominent bulge in his pants. He caught her staring at it. 

“It will go away on its own.” 

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. I have lot to learn.” She said with a hint of shyness in her voice. 

“And I shall teach you my beautiful girl. We’ve been in here a lot later then usual. Let’s head to dinner now.” 

“Wait Severus.” She said reaching out grabbing his wrist. She went up on her tippy toes and grabbed the back of his head pulling him down to her and kissed him one more time. They continued like this for a few minutes when she broke the kiss.

“See you at dinner Professor.” And with that she walked out the room and Severus was alone and hard. He put a locking charm on the door and sat at his desk. He undid his zipper and pulled down his pants and boxers just enough to free himself. He then began to work on his length imagining it was her hands wrapped around him. Replaying that little moan she let out. It only took a couple of minutes for him to cum to the thought of her. He cleaned him self up and left to the great hall to eat dinner. He took his seat next to Minerva and watched Y/n listen to her friends talk. They would occasionally lock eyes and it was always her that would blush and look away first and place a hand on the bottom of her neck where the necklace laid. She put the disillusionment charm back on the necklace. 

After dinner that evening Severus went up to Dumbledores office.

“I have something to ask of you, I’ve only done this once-“ 

“And now for a second time, what is it Severus?” 

“It’s Y/F/N. She’s been volunteering as my assistant these past 3 months. She graduates soon and has no home to return to.” 

“You want me to offer her a job at Hogwarts.” 

“Something, pay her as my assistant.” 

“I see you’ve grown fond of the girl. Be careful Severus. I can pay her for what she has done for those 3 months and will pay her until graduation. As for her living situation, i’m afraid I am of no service in that department but I’m sure you will figure something out.” 

“Thank you Albus.” 

“Severus. Be cautious.” With that Severus left. He’s right Severus thought to himself. I can’t let my feeling for her over power my judgement. Why her and why now he thought to himself. A student of all people. When he arrived at his living quarters he undressed and showered and touched himself again to the thought of her, he was so ashamed of himself after for doing something so dirty to the thought of someone so pure. He dried off and went under the covers of his king size bed and fell asleep with her on his mind. How would tomorrow go? He thought to himself. While Severus was in his own mind Y/n was in hers.

Y/n couldn’t sleep that night all she could think about was her and Severus, alone in that room. How she was so glad he felt the same way she felt about him. That he wants her just as she wants him. Three months left of school. What would happen? What will happen when she sees him tomorrow? Her anxious thoughts filled her head, what if he changes his mind? What if he thinks it was all a mistake? 

The next day in the great hall at breakfast time Severus kept catching himself self stare her. He admired everything about her, her gorgeous hair and her beautiful face, how adorable she looked in her white blouse and green and black plaid skirt. Her beautiful smile when her friends talked. Occasionally Severus and Y/n would catch the other staring. Y/n was mesmerized by his dark hair and features. The way his fingers held his utensils. She went to classes as usual during her two breaks to Professor Snapes classes. After the second class she was called over to his desk and took a seat in front of it. 

“Yes Professor.” She said so sweetly and looked at him with her beautiful eyes.

“I was wondering how you felt about yesterday.” 

“Oh yes. I’ve been wondering the same of you. Well, I enjoyed it.” 

“I enjoyed it too. Don’t comeback here during the evening. Meet me at my living quarters while everyone is at dinner in the great hall. I can trust you know how to not be caught?” 

“Yes. I can.” 

“Okay, leave before your late to your next class. But first.” He stood, grabbed her wrist and pulled her into him and grabbed the sides of her face. 

“Kiss me.” He asked. She went on her tippy toes and placed a kiss on his lips. He deepened this for just a second and pulled away. 

“Go before your late. And don’t forget tonight.” 

“Okay, I’ll go now, I won’t forget.” She kissed his cheek and walked out the door and let in the students. She took off running down the halls to class luckily she made it just in time. 

After class that evening she showered again and changed. She went for a mid calf cream silk skirt and a black knit sweater. She took the disillusionment charm off the necklace. Put on light makeup and did her hair up. She wore a long black coat over her outfit. Dinner time came around quickly after she was done. Once she knew everyone was in the great hall she made her way to Severus is living quarters. She knocked on the door three times alerting him it was her. He opened the door quickly and ushered her inside. 

“Come in quickly. Before Filtch sees you.” He said and she made her way in quickly.

“Hello.” He said looking her up and down. Her large coat covering her outfit. 

“Hi, you look nice.”  She smiled at him.  He wore his usual black pants but this time with a regular black button up.

“Here let me take your coat.” He said reaching out. She undid the few buttons she had done up and let him take her coat from her shoulders. He then saw what she was wearing. She turned around and saw his necklace.

“You look absolutely gorgeous.” 

“Thank you.” She said blushing. 

“I had the house elves make us a plate. I figured we could eat here. Just the two of us.” He said walking to a small table with two chairs. There were candles lit on the table and around the rest of the room. 

“I love that. I really like all the candles.” 

“I hoped you would.” They sat there eating and talking and drinking wine the most of the night. They talked and laughed the whole time.

“When I was a small child I used to accidentally light peoples shoes on fire.” Y/n began. 

“Oh please explain.” Severus asked 

“So it started because my cousin from my mothers side kept picking on me and at dinner his father, my uncle, had said that I deserved it and I was so angry I just pictured him up in flames and sure enough his socks started to burn first.”

“You used to light peoples underwear on fire.” 

“Yes burn them from the inside out.” They both were laughing. He loved watching her laugh, a laugh reserved only for him. Y/n took a drink from her glass then stood up and walked to Severus. He pushed his chair back to standup with her when she sat in his lap. Her bum on his thigh and her legs draped over his other.

Arms wrapped around his neck and fingers combing through his hair.

“I talked with Dumbledore last night. He said he should be able to work something out for you.”

“Thank you Severus.” She kissed his cheek. “Your so good to me.” She kissed his cheek once more, making her way down his neck. She sucked and licked at his neck and rubbed his chest. He let out a small moan. With that she lifted her head and began to kiss him.

His hands wandered up her sweater as they kissed passionately. She began to unbutton his shirt when he grabbed her wrist and stoped her.

“Not tonight darling.”

“Just a little.” She pleaded and started kissing his shoulder. She worked her way back up the left side of his neck. Then to the right side of his neck. Then down and kissed all over his chest back up and nipped in sucked on the bottom of his neck where his shoulder begins. He moaned at the sensation of her on him. It took everything in him to not be selfish and give in to her touch. He grabbed her face and she lifted her head from his neck and he instantly began kissing down her neck, licking and sucking. 

“This is all I could think about last night.” She breathed out. He wrapped one arm under her back and another under the back of her knees and stood up and carried her to his king size bed and placed her on top of the black comforter. She grabbed at his hands to pull her her down to her. He obliged and kissed her passionately, both his knees on either side of her. She rubbed her hands up and down both his arms. Then moved to the back of his neck trying to pull him down to her. He broke away first. 

“No darling, tonight is about you.” 

“What do you mean.” 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Just tell me stop and I will.”

“Okay. I trust you.”  He lifted off her sweater revealing her black lace bra. He took some time to look at the marks he left on her shoulders from the night before. He went back to kissing her neck and working his way down her neck and over her shoulders once more. He unclasped her bra and took it off. He licked and sucked  her breast into his mouth and massaged the other in his hand. She moaned and the new sensation of his mouth on her like that. After a while he switched to the other breast and and massaged the other. She moaned again when he switched. He grew hard listening to her moan under him. Her moans were like heaven to him, so sweet and needy. 

He pulled down her skirt revealing her black lace panties. 

“Your so beautiful, laid here for me.” He pulled her towards the edge of the bed and got down on his knees and began kissing up each one her thighs than leaving a gentle kiss on her covered sex. He went back and kissed her once more before kissing his way down her body and pulling down her panties and going back on his knees. He moved her legs so her knees were bent and her legs were opened to him.

“Your so wet beautiful.” She blushed and went to close her legs at his words but he grabbed her knees and stopped her. 

“Don’t be embarrassed my love, don’t hide from me. I love seeing what I do to you. Is this all from me?”

“Yes.” She was all she could muster. He gently licked up her swollen lips. 

“You taste amazing darling.” He went back to licking and lapping at her juices. She wiggled and moaned under him. He held her down amd began to gently flick her clit with his tongue. She let out a loud moan from the overwhelming pleasure, pleasure she’s never felt before. He then started to move his middle finger up and down between her folds. 

“Do you want my fingers darling?” 

“Mhmm. Please.” At that inserted one finger and slowly moved it in and out. Y/n couldn’t control her moans these fantastic new feelings overwhelming her. He felt her clench his one finger and began lick at the juices that sopped out of her. He could tell she was close and began to curl his finger up in a come here motion and suck on her clit. Y/n began to moan loudly and shake with pleasure as he continued his assault on her. She had felt her self beginning to cum.

“Oh Severus.” She began “Hmmm please. Don’t stop.” And in between breaths. “Don’t stop Sev.” “Hmm. Yes. Yes. Yes.” She was moaning and saying any word that came to her head as she began to moan even louder as she came around his finger and on his tongue. He continued fingering her and help her come down from her high. Lapped at her and cleaned her with his tongue before going back up and kissing her gently. She could taste her self on his tongue.

He pulled away and layed next to her and pulled her into his chest and covered her with a blanket. 

“You were so good for me baby.” He said and kissed her forehead and they laid there in each other’s arms. 

“I wasn’t to loud?” 

“No darling, you were amazing.”

“Oh okay good. I’ve never done that before.” 

“I know darling.”

Y/n moved her leg over his hips and noticed her leg went over something hard.

“Oh Sev, what about you.” 

“I’m fine darling. Really.” 

“That’s what you said last time. Let me help you out.” 

“It’s okay, next time.” 

“Okay, next time.” 

They laid there the rest of night in each others arms before y/n would have to get up and sneak back into the Slytherin girls dormitory and into bed. 

[dracowars]

distraction | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x slytherin!reader

word count: 3,2k

summary: where y/n needs to study, but not with draco

a/n: i wrote this before i got my first ever request and since then it disappeared in my drafts, so here you go, have one of my super super old imagines

warnings: angst, slightly suggestive

universe: harry potter

Completely exhausted, you drop onto your seat at the Slytherin table and put one of your books next to your plate. You cannot believe that you have to study so much again while the last exams were only a month ago; at least it felt like that. On top of that your teachers do not really care about the upcoming tests and give you twice as much homework than usual. Hogwarts is definitely getting harder every year.

Unfortunately, your parents have very high expectations, which basically means you have to get at least into the top five in each course or you will be disinherited. Your parents, both pureblood, were at Hogwarts as well and were always battling for the highest scores. So, your name is not alien to anyone here, especially not the teachers, who put additional pressure on you because they assume that you are like your parents.

Just last week you were asked to demonstrate the Patronus Charm in front of everyone in Charms class because Professor Flitwick is more than convinced of your abilities. You, on the other hand, beg to differ, which is why the spell went terribly wrong and costed you ten house points, making you look like a fool to everyone. Today, Professor Snape thought it would be a good idea to make you explain all of the ingredients to the class that you worked out in your homework - which you, by the way, sat on until the early morning hours. Of course, that also went wrong and now you have to do the homework all over again, this time correctly.

You do not know if you would rather cry or scream right now, but you definitely do not feel like eating. You sluggishly push the little food your best friend Blaise kindly put on your plate back and forth with a small sigh. Instead of eating you then decide to open up your book for Herbology and take a look inside, but no matter how many times you re-read the letters and sentences, you just do not understand them.

As you are about to read over the whole page again, you suddenly feel a hand on your right shoulder and a warm breath on your neck shortly afterwards. "Hello, beautiful", he whispers in your ear and places a gentle kiss on your cheek before he sits down on the bench closely next to you. "How was class?", he asks you with a small smile while shoveling food on his own plate.

Actually, you and your boyfriend Draco almost share all courses, but there are a few expectations. Of course, there are advantages and disadvantages to having classes with him, but you still prefer to have him with you. In fact, you like to always have him by your side. Except while studying. Because if Draco and you study together, - or attempt to - you end up not learning anything at all. Ever.

"Do not even get me started", you answer, and his gaze immediately shoots from his plate to you, concern covering his attractive features. His shining gray eyes examine you precisely and he lays his hand on yours which is still on your opened book. He gently strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. "What happened? Trouble?", he asks worriedly, knitting his eyebrows.

Draco knows very well how you are treated by the teachers and by your parents, he witnessed it more than once. At some point you just could not take it anymore, so you told him everything and he understood instantly, just silently holding you close while you poured out your heart to him. He always understood you. And that is why he also understands the look you are giving him now right away and he nods understandingly, giving you a reassuring smile and squeezing your hand before starting to eat.

In return, you give him an absent smile and examine his gorgeous side profile for a moment while he talks to Goyle and then focus back on learning. "What are you reading, love?", Draco asks you interestedly and takes a look at the book, still chewing on some bread. In disbelief, he immediately sinks it down when realizing what the book is about. "Are you studying for the exams already?"

You nod insecurely and fiddle around with your hands in your lap nervously. "You cannot be serious, Y/N!", he scolds you loudly, a few other Slytherins looking over at you two now. He always scolds you when you overwhelm yourself with all of the learning. You do not eat or sleep for days and it breaks his heart because you never let him help you. You always tell him that 'you have to do this on your own because nobody will help you later in life either'. But that is not true; Draco will always help you. Because he plans to never leave your side in your whole life.

"I am sorry, okay? Not everyone can be as smart as you and learn everything within a few hours", you grumble at him unintentionally, the pressure taking control over your words. You can immediately see how his whole expression falls, making you regret what you said. "You know that is not true. It is not always easy for me either", he mumbles without any emotion in his voice. "If only you would let me help you, Y/N. For once."

You do not answer the platinum blonde boy, only looking into his gray eyes as he waits for you to say anything. "I did not mean what I said..", you apologize after coming up with the right words. "Maybe you are right. Maybe I should really stop learning so much."

You could see the hope lit up in his eyes for a second as he probably thought that you would let him help you, but you just can't. You cannot risk your grades anymore just because you want to spend time with him. The last time you did, you landed – beside Draco’s bed - on seventh place in one of your courses and that was already enough to enrage your parents to the fullest. You perfectly know where letting him help you study ends. It always does.

For Draco, it is still a step forward since you want to take more care of yourself through learning less. "I know you did not mean it. Do not worry about it, everything will be fine", he cheers you up, running his hand over your soft hair and then placing a kiss on your forehead gently, a lovely gesture that always cheers you up.

What he does not know, however, is that you lied to him.

That night you stayed up extra long to get the learning material into your brain and the next morning not only your head but also your hand is hurting terribly from all the writing. On top of that, you only did a power nap and then sneaked out of the common room - luckily, Draco never wakes up early and also was easy to convince yesterday evening that you did not want to sleep in his room that night - and into the Great Hall very early in the morning, where you have been until now.

Because there is not a single student or teacher yet, the tables are completely empty, giving you enough space to study. Books and parchment are lying around everywhere. It takes some time before the first students and teachers enter the Great Hall for breakfast, but nobody really pays attention to you. After all, it is very common for students to study here.

As soon as you see Draco and his friends coming through the large arch into the hall, you do not waste any time and quickly use Reducio to downsize your books and stow them in the pockets of your cloak, your wand with it. Draco spots you sitting at the table and you give him a tired smile as he comes to you.

"Good morning, baby", you greet him and give him a soft peck on his lips. "I thought we had agreed that we would go to breakfast together today? I have been waiting for you the whole time until Pansy had to check your room, only to see that you were already gone", Draco explains, disappointment prominent in his still rough, groggy morning voice. "Oh.. I am so sorry, Draco. I totally forgot! I woke up early and thought I would already go ahead", you lie, even though you perfectly know that it is not true. You just do not want to worry him even more.

"Did you sleep at all?", he questions your statement, his hands cupping your cheeks as he takes a close look at you. By the dark circles under your sleepy eyes, he can definitely tell that you hardly slept, but you are quick to escape from his stare, lowering your head and hiding your face. He pulls his hands back and sighs deeply.

"Fine. Then do not talk to me", he rolls his eyes, and you can literally feel how disappointed and hurt he is. Before you can say anything else, Draco buzzes off and sits down next to Crabbe at the table and not where you always sit together. When Draco is mad, you know that it is best to leave him alone for now, and that is exactly what you are going to do. You sadly walk past them and out of the Great Hall without even the tiniest bit of food in your system.

You make your way to the library, a quiet and pleasant place to study and, above all, no one to distract you. Because Draco hates the library. He would never go in here voluntarily, so it is the perfect place for you to learn. When you enter, Madam Pince looks at you with wide eyes and then takes a look at the clock. She frowns and watches as you sit down at one of the tables in the last corner of the library. You enlarge your books again and without further ado, start learning until it is time to go to class.

You do not get to see Draco in the hallways all day, only in a few classes where he keeps ignoring you. Any other day, you would try anything to make him stop, but it is probably better that way right now. At least then you can learn and write a good exam in a few weeks. Still, every time you look in his direction, your heart aches.

After you are done with school for the day in the late afternoon, you do not go to the Slytherin common room like everyone else, but rather back to the library, where other students are now as well. You choose the loneliest table in the last corner again and make yourself comfortable.

You have already written three pieces of parchment and got through one chapter of your Herbology book when you hear someone come closer, throwing a shadow on your table. "Is this chair still free?", the person asks and because you are so focused on your learning, you absently nod while writing down an important information with your quill.

You perceive how the student sits down and puts books on the relatively small table as well, which is why you pull your stuff in your direction a little to make room. All of a sudden, you feel a hand on top of yours and as you look up at this very moment, you meet a pair of beautiful gray eyes in which you have lost yourself so often.

"Draco?", you bring out, too bewildered by the situation. "Why are you here? I thought you would go to the common room", you add and look down at your books insecurely. He caught you.

"That is not a very nice way to greet your lovely boyfriend, is it?", Draco scoffs and opens up his books, taking a quill into his hand while you can only watch him. You furrow your eyebrows as he dips it into the ink and starts writing on a piece of parchment himself.

"What? Can't I study like you always do?", he grumbles, the exact same way as you did this morning, and answers the question in your head before you could even say it out loud. Within a second you pack up your things before you get up from the chair and grab your bag. However, before you can even walk away, you are quickly stopped by Draco grabbing your wrist tightly and pulling you back. "You will stay here, Y/N", he grinds his teeth.

"Please, Draco. You know exactly how important it is for me to get good grades. And when we.. when we learn together it never works! I love you so much, Draco, with all of my heart, but we really cannot study together", you explain, not daring to look at him. You feel his grip on your wrist weaken and when you do look at him, his heartbroken gaze hurts you more than you expected.

"Are you serious, Y/N? Do you really think that I do not know you? After all these years? Of course I sometimes annoyed you in between when we were studying before. Maybe I distracted you, too. But I only did it because I wanted to take the pressure from you for a second, to see you smile at least once during that time and I never did it before an important test. I would not do that, especially because I know what it means to you. It truly is a shame that you have never noticed. I have and will always support you, Y/N. But you never allow me to. I know you have trouble in some subjects that I am actually good at. Why do you not let me help you?", Draco utters, still a little furious about your behavior towards him.

His words hit you more than you thought they would. He just wanted to help and all you ever did was pushing him away from you. You feel absolutely terrible. All the pressure was too much for you, but you did not want to accept it, wanted to accomplish your goal on your own when he could have been by your side the whole time. He would have helped you if you had only allowed it. Now, you do not know what to say or how you can make it up to him.

"D-Draco..", you stutter, not believing how stupid you were. "Can you just stop being a stubborn and sit down with me, please?", he interrupts you, reaching out his hand to you which you gladly accept and sit back down on your chair, your hands still intertwined on the table. "That was not that hard, was it?", Draco gently smiles, taking your hand in between both of his, squeezing it tight like you're about to run away from him again. "You always told me to open up to you and I did because I trust you, Y/N. Why do you not do me the favor now?"

"I was.. scared, Draco. And I did not want to worry you. You already have enough other problems than to help out your annoying, whiny girlfriend. I am terribly sorry for everything", you explain sadly, your eyes tearing up. "Even if I have other problems, you always come first, love. It breaks my heart to see you like this. To see you starve and ruin yourself and to not be able to do anything about it", he confesses and leads your hand towards him, kissing the back of it. He then leans forward over the table to brush one strand of hair behind your ear, smiling genuinely before cupping your cheek. You immediately melt into his touch. "I do not expect you to change right now, but at least let me help you today, alright?", Draco offers, and you nod in agreement.

For a moment it looks like he might jump in the air in joy, but he holds himself back in the last moment, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. In a matter of seconds, he scoots closer to you with his chair so that you can look into the book together, your hands intertwined on your lap. You tell him exactly what you do not understand, and he immediately explains it in a much more understandable way than any of your old books ever could.

After you have gone through everything a few times carefully, Draco gives you some tasks to solve while he works on his own homework. Contrary to what you originally expected, you sit quietly next to each other while doing your own thing. Here and there you briefly exchange loving glances, but you hardly speak at all unless you completed your tasks.

You are currently puzzling over a somewhat more difficult question, resting your elbow on the table so you could rest your chin on your hand, frowning with great concentration. Curious about how Draco is doing, you peer over at him only to catch him staring at you the whole time. You quickly take a straight sitting position again and feel the blush rise to your cheeks. Looking down into your lap you feel his foot lightly pushing against your leg to draw your attention to him.

"You look cute when you concentrate", Draco giggles, making you feel even more flattered. "Shut up", you respond shyly and shake your head to disagree. "Well, you do not see yourself through my eyes", he only shrugs, putting a smile on your face now as well. You stare at each other for a while, his eyes locked with yours intensely, before you realize that you still have some studying to do.

You are just about to take your quill back up when your stomach suddenly growls loudly, Madam Pince glancing at you dangerously. Shocked, you lay your hand on your belly and look at your boyfriend with big eyes. He has to suppress a laugh and rummages around in his bag until he has found what he was looking for: your absolute favorite candy.

"Unfortunately we missed dinner because we were too focused on learning, but luckily I am smart and was thinking ahead", Draco winks at you, knowing very well that it is against the rules to bring snacks into the library, but in this moment you could not care less. He then hands you the candy, but before you can grab it, he jerks it away again. "Who is the best boyfriend and best partner for studying in the whole entire muggle and wizarding world?", he asks, raising his eyebrows.

"It is obviously you, Draco", you give him your best smile, the one he loves so much, the one that makes him fall in love with you all over again every time. Satisfied with your answer - and a little bit proud - he gives you your favorite candy, watching you closely as you happily eat it. "I know", he lays back in his chair with a slick smirk on his lips.

It definitely was not a lie. Since that exact day you would always find yourself studying in the library. With Draco. Actually learning. And in the end, you get an even better score than you expected. That, of course, required a reward for Draco which he gladly accepted.

[that-disabled-radfem]

Happy back-to-school y’all

I’ve attended and worked at a couple of super liberal universities. I avoid the gender studies departments for obvious reasons and I still had a lecture in which the female prof gave a brief overview of TERFs and proclaimed her hatred of JKR. Being openly critical of gender ideology, the porn industry, kinks, and ‘sex work’ are the kind of things that can ruin your future in academia. Not to mention the fact that any speech or actions that could be labelled transphobic (ie. defining woman as adult human female) can get you a suspension according to many universities anti-hate-speech policies. 

So, here’s a list of small and smallish (small in terms of overt TERFery, some may require more effort than others) radical feminist actions you can take as a university student:

(this is a liberal arts perspective so if you’re a stem gal this may not apply. but also if you’re in stem maybe you can actually acknowledge that women are oppressed as a sex class without getting kicked out of school. idk)

(Note for TRAs hate reading this: One of the core actions of radical feminism is creating female networks. This is not so that we can brainwash people into being anti-trans. This is because female solidarity is necessary for creating class consciousness and overturning patriarchy. It is harder to subjugate the female sex when we stand together.)

Take classes with female profs. Multiple sections of a class? Pick the one taught by a woman. Have to chose an elective? Only look at electives offered by women. When classes have low numbers they get cancelled. When classes are super popular, universities are forced to consider promoting the faculty that teach them

Make relationships with these female profs. Go to office hours. Chat after class. Ask them about their research. Building female networks is sooooo important!

Actually fill in your end of year course feedback forms. Profs often need these when applying for tenure or applying for a job at another university so it is very important (especially with young and/or new profs) that you fill out these forms and give specific examples of how great these women are. Go off about what you love about them! Give her a brilliant review because you know the idiot boy in that class who won’t shut up even though he knows nothing is going to give her only negative feedback because he thinks any woman who leaves the house is a feminazi b*tch. 

(note: obviously don’t go praising any prof - female or male - who is blatantly racist, homophobic, etc.)

(Also if you have shitty male profs write down all the horrible things they have done and said and put it in these forms because once a shitty man gets tenure they are virtually untouchable)

(also also, leave a good review on rate my profs or whatever other thing students use to figure out if they want to take classes. idc if you copy paste your feedback from the formal review. rave about the class to your friends. do what you can to get good enrolment for that prof for reasons above.)

Participate in class. Talk over the male students. Say what you mean and mean it. Call out the boys when they say dumb shit

Write about women. If you have the option to make a text written by a woman your primary text in an essay, do it. Pick the female-centred option if you’re writing an exam-essay with multiple prompts. (Profs often look at what works on their syllabus are being written about/engaged with as a marker of whether to keep those texts the next time they teach the class. If there are badass women on your syllabus, write about them to keep them on the syllabus) Use female-written secondary sources whenever possible. 

(pro tip: many women in academia are more than happy to talk to you about their papers. expand your female networks by reaching out to article authors through email and asking them about their cool shit)

Get your essays published! Many departments have undergrad journals you can publish in. This will ensure more people read about the women you write about and will demonstrate to the department that people like learning about women

Consider trying to publish your undergrad essay with a legit peer-reviewed journal. If you can do it, your use of female-written secondary sources boosts the reputations of the women who wrote those secondary sources. Also this helps generally to increase scholarship about women’s writing!

Present your papers at conferences! Many schools have their own undergraduate/departmental conferences that you can present at. Push yourself by submitting to outside conferences. Bring attention to women’s works by presenting your papers. Take a space at a conference that would otherwise be reserved for mediocre men

Talk to your profs and/or your department and/or your university about mandating the inclusion of female works in classes if this isn’t something they do already

Sit next to other women in your classes. Talk to them. Make friends. Form study groups. Proofread each other’s essays. Give each other knowing looks when the boys are being dumb. Just interact with other women! Build those female networks!

Be generous with your compliments. A female classmate and I were talking to a prof after class and the classmate told me (out of the blue) that I always have such interesting things to say. I think about that whenever I’m lacking confidence about my academic skills. Compliment the women in your classes for speaking up, for sharing their opinions, for challenging your classmates/profs, for doing cool presentations, etc.

Talk to other women about sexist things going on on campus. Make everyone aware of the sexist profs. Complain about how there are many more tenured men than tenured women. Go on rate my professor and be explicit about how the sexist profs are sexist

Be active on campus and in societies. If a society has an all male executive or is male-dominated, any women who join that society make it less intimidating for more women to join. Run for executive positions! Bring in more women! 

(Pro tip: Many societies’ elections are super gameable. You can be eligible to vote in a society election sometimes just by being a student at that university — even without having done anything with the society before. Other societies might just require that you’ve taken a class in a particular department or attended a society event. (Check the society’s governing documents.) Use those female networks you’ve been building. If you can bring three or four random people to vote for you, that might be enough for you to win. Societies have trouble meeting quorum (the minimum number of people in attendance to do votes) so it is really super achievable to rig an election with a few friends. And don’t feel bad about this. The system is rigged against women so you have every right to exploit loopholes!)

(Also feel free to go vote “non-confidence”/“re-open election” if only shitty men are running. Too often people see that only candidates they don’t like are running and so they give up. But you can actually stop them getting elected)

Your campus may have a LGBTQIA+alphabetsoup society. That society definitely needs more L and B women representation. It may be tedious to argue with the nb straight dudes who insist that it’s fine to use “q***r” in the society’s posters and that attraction has nothing to do with genitals, but just imagine what could happen if we could make these sorts of societies actually safe spaces for same-sex attracted women and advocated for our concerns

Attend random societies’ election meetings. Get women elected and peace out. (or actually get involved but I’m trying to emphasize the lowest commitment option with this one)

Write for the campus newspaper. Write about what women are doing - women’s sports, cool society activities, whatever. Review female movies, books, tv shows, local theatre productions. Write about sexism on campus. We need more female by-lines and more stories about women

Get involved with your campus’s sexual assault & r*pe hotline/sexual assault survivor’s centre/whatever similar organization your campus has if you can. This is hard work and definitely not for everyone (pls take care of yourself first, especially if you are a survivor)

(If your campus doesn’t have an organization for supporting survivor’s of sexualized violence, start one! This is probably going to be a lot of hard work though, so don’t do it alone)

Talk to your student council about providing free menstrual hygiene products on campus if your campus doesn’t already do this. If your campus provides free condoms (which they probs do), use that as leverage (ie. ‘sex is optional, menstruation is not. so why do we have free condoms and no free pads?’)

If you’re an older student, get involved with younger students (orientation week and such activities are good for this). Show the freshman that you can be a successful and well-liked woman without shaving your legs, wearing heels, wearing make-up, etc. Mentor these young women. Offer to go for coffee or proofread essays. 

Come to class looking like a human being. Be visibly make-up less, unshaven, unfeminine, etc. to show off the many different ways of being a woman

Talk to the custodial staff and learn their names. (I know there are men who work in this profession, but it is dominated by low-income women) Say hi in the hallways, ask them about their lives, show them they’re appreciated

Be explicit with your language. When you are talking about sex-based oppression, say it. Don’t say ‘sex worker’ when you mean survivor of human trafficking. This tip is obviously a bit tricky in terms of overt TERFyness, so use your best judgement

That’s all from me for now! Feel free to add your suggestions and remember that feminism is about action

[watchmegetobsessed]

Tastes Like Strawberries - Harry Styles

a/n: oh this one is a long boi and might not be the end??? i’ve been working on this fic for days and i have an idea for a possible second part, but i wrote this one so it has a fulfilling ending so it can stand as a oneshot as well! i barely just started working on the sequel, we’ll se how it’ll turn out, maybe it goes to shit lmao but whatever, it’s still a nice and whole story without a second part! this is my V-day gift to you all, have this nice professor!harry fic as if it was a box of chocolate! 🍓 🍫 🍬

special thanks to @pastequeharry​ who put up with my constant rambling and whining while i was writing this, you are a hero, his is dedicated to you!!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content, abusing relationship, it’s got smut, angst, lot’s of banter and all that jazz!

word count: 21.4k

masterlist

There’s just a handful of things to know about Professor Harry Styles and that’s because of one of those very few known facts, the first one being that he is a highly private person. He rarely talks about himself or any aspects of his life, he always makes sure to keep it as professional as possible whenever he is teaching.

Second, he is easily the smartest professor to ever walk on campus, but he doesn’t like to brag about it. You never catch him showing off how much he knows, how big of a genius he is, you’ll just start to realize from the way he teaches and approaches certain topics, how he interacts with others and tries to pass his knowledge down to his students. He is brilliant and he should have all the credits for it, yet he still chooses to keep it to himself.

Third, and it’s the most well-known fact because to see this you just need to have a pair of eyes, he is undeniably the most handsome man to ever teach or if you’re being more precise, walk the hallways of the university. No football crazy, alcoholic fratboy or dreamy looking indie guy from the library can live up to what Professor Harry Styles is. With a face clearly carved by the angels, a nicely built but not too muscular frame, and occasionally displayed tattooed arm that makes you wonder what other artworks his stylish outfits are hiding, there’s no man like him and every female on campus agrees with that.

His lectures and courses are jampacked with sighing and heart-eyed college girls, daydreaming about the man who is solemnly just trying to teach the things he is so passionate about. But it’s not just the students, Professor Styles has managed to charm the female professors of all faculties, you can see them wander by his office way too often, they take any opportunity to talk to the man and try to seduce him. It’s unknown if he is oblivious to the effect he has on women or he chooses to ignore every and any attempts, but this is what leads us to the fourth fact.

Despite all the effort and energy that’s been put into his case by every single woman on campus to break the walls the professor has built around himself, he never let any of his students or colleagues to even think they could be romantically linked for real. Professor Styles keeps his distance and turns down any offer that could be mistaken to anything that doesn’t fit in the professional boundaries.

Anytime a student puts on the slightest flirtatious act towards the professor, he either rejects it straight away or ignores it completely and blatantly, making it his clear answer that he is not interested and then he goes back to teaching. You’ve seen it yourself, having him as one of your professors first year of uni, you fell for him just like every other girl in the lecture hall, dreaming about him in ways you probably shouldn’t think of a teacher while he was just casually talking about his grading system and how he is going to build up the lectures throughout the semester. Some brave girls who you assume were highly celebrated by boys in high school took the courage to openly flirt with him, but he didn’t even flinch before shutting all attempts down, not even a blush appeared on his perfectly cut cheekbones.

You thought of ways you’d try to seduce him yourself, but you never actually tried. You never had the balls to actually give it a go and then suffer from the worst embarrassment of your life when he rejects you. So you kept it all to yourself, only entertaining yourself with your elaborate plans about the seduction of your professor.

Second year passed without any classes with Professor Styles, you had only occasionally seen him come and go, rushing down the hallways holding his notebooks to his chest, a steaming cup of coffee in his other hand as he was heading to his lecture hall that you just knew was filled with girls. You always took a moment to yourself to admire his outfit. He has a tendency to pair odd items and make them look like the most put together fit ever that only he can pull off. However, you and your girlfriends always loved to tease him between each other for his grandpa-like sweaters and vests he seemed to love dearly.

“He confuses me, because I want him to fuck me on his desk but also, I feel like he is about to ask me what periodt means because he is too old to understand slang these days,” your friend, Nat said once when your little group was lounging under the huge oak tree between classes and the professor rushed past you, disappearing in the building without paying any of you a look. He wore a pair of beige slacks and a striped sweater, a wrinkly grey shirt peeking from under it at the bottom. The colors and the style overall once again gave you that old people feeling, but then you looked at his handsome face and couldn’t care any less about whatever he was wearing.

The most intimate way you ever saw him was a few days after your twenty-first birthday the summer before your last year of uni started. You just got back from your hometown, the first person to arrive back to your shared flat with Nat and Eden, so you had a few days on your own. You decided to redecorate your room so you took a trip to IKEA, taking your time looking through the set up rooms, just wandering around as you try to figure out what you really want to buy. Walking through the living room section you spotted the professor and first, you didn’t even recognize him.

He was wearing a pair of bright yellow shorts and a short sleeved shirt with floral prints on it, a pair of white framed sunglass on top of his head, keeping his unruly strands out of his face as he was eyeing a couch, seemingly deep in his thoughts. You stopped in your tracks, seeing him in such a casual and everyday setting. For some reason, he seemed like a completely different person.

A woman was there with him and as you walked closer you could hear a fraction of their discussion.

“I don’t know, Gems. Do I need a couch this big?”

“Looks comfy and I like the color. It would also fit in the space just right, I think you should get the bigger one if you have the space for it,” the woman put her two cents in and you wondered who she could be. Girlfriend? Just a casual friend? Maybe fiancé? She did have a ring that could easily go as an engagement ring so you couldn’t tell for sure.

As you were about to walk past you suddenly took the courage to say hi.

“Hello, Professor Styles!” you greeted him with a warm smile and his eyes flickered over to you from the couch in question. One thing you always admired about him is that he never forgot the faces of his students and as he looked at you, you knew he recognized you even if he didn’t know your name specifically.

“Oh, hello,” he nodded in your way.

“I like the couch,” you commented before slowly moving on. “Have a nice rest of your summer!”

“You too, Y/N,” he called after you and it took you by surprise that he remembered your name. Your lecture he taught had almost over a hundred students in it and you weren’t the most active one to stand out that easily, yet he still remembered you more than you were expecting.

That small encounter kept you thinking about him for way longer than you probably should have, especially because you knew you’d have a lecture with him again in the upcoming semester. Your daydreams about him made their way back into your mind as you spent the last days of your summer mostly with your friends. It got you thinking that if you managed to get him to remember your name, maybe you would give one of your plans a go and shoot your shot. He wouldn’t be teaching you in your last semester so you wouldn’t have to face him after he rejects you.

And this is how you came up with your little scheme.

On your last Sunday evening before school starts, you, Nat and Eden sit in the floor of your living room, drinking some white wine as a way of saying goodbye to the carefree summer moments and getting back to the working days of being a senior at uni. Professor Styles came up completely randomly and you let it slip that you’ve just seen him recently at IKEA with a woman and it all led to you admitting that you’ll finally shoot your shot at the professor. Nat and Eden both did the same already, however their attempts were completely ignored and they always bugged you to give it a try yourself, being the only one in your group who hasn’t tried to seduce the professor yet.

“I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell me it’s stupid because I actually think it’ll be funny and a little bit genius,” you tell them before you start sharing the details on your plan.

“Just spill the beans already!” Eden pokes you before she reaches for the bottle and refills her glass.

“Okay, so you both know I took this psychology class last semester for extra credits, right?” The nod and you continue. “The teacher told us about this thing called classical conditioning or they call it pavlovian response too. The guy, Pavlov, did an experiment where he paired the feeding of dogs with a bell ring and after a certain amount of time the dogs started salivating at just the sound of the bell, because they remembered that it’s connected to food. The teacher said this is literally one of the easiest tricks to pull on people.”

“Oh, isn’t this one of the things Jim did on Dwight in The Office?” Nat asks furrowing her eyebrows.

“It is!” you nod, glad that they are understanding the base of your plan. “So, I’ve heard that Professor Styles loves strawberry flavored candies. I thought that I would bring some every day when I see him and offer him some. Slowly, he’ll pair the candy with the thought of me and he’ll get excited when he sees me because he’ll think I have candy for him and it will hopefully work the other way around and he’ll think of me when he is eating strawberry flavored candy that’s not from me.”

Your friends blink at you for a moment, processing what you just shared with them before Eden takes a huge sip of her drink.

“This is the most ridiculous but also the most genius thing I’ve ever heard,” she nods holding her glass up towards you.

“I can’t believe you will pull a psychological experiment on Professor Styles,” Nat shakes her head with a soft chuckle.

“It’s not a blunt way to get closer to him and if he accuses me of trying to flirt I can just say that I’ve been only sharing candy with him, I literally did nothing,” you point out, pretty proud of your solution to your deep fear of having to take his rejection publicly.

“If you get a Noble for this shit, make sure to thank us in your speech,” Eden laughs and you promise to do so when the big moment comes.

Monday morning you make a quick trip to Target and buy a big bag of strawberry flavored candies, probably enough to last for the whole semester, and then you make your way to campus. Following your first lecture you meet up with Eden who also signed up for Professor Styles’ lecture this semester, so the two of you make your way towards the lecture hall together.

“I really can’t believe you are doing this,” she chuckles when you get the candy ready as you near the room. The professor is always the first one in the lecture hall so you know you’ll find him there already.

“You can’t tell me it’s not a funny plan,” you smirk at her. And just as you walk in, you immediately spot the professor sitting at the desk at the front, going over the syllabus before the start. “Save a seat for me,” you tell Eden who just laughs and makes her way up the stairs along the desks.

Grabbing the pack of sweets from your bag you walk up to the professor, feeling confident with your plan. He lifts his head up when he notices your arrival and your eyes meet with his green ones.

“Hello, professor. Would you like some candy?” you simply ask with an innocent smile.

Professor Styles stares at you for a moment before his eyes move down to the candy in your hand, the opening of the bag facing him in a welcoming manner.

“I, uhh… what flavor?” he curiously asks and you can barely push down your smirk.

“Strawberry.”

“Oh. I’ll… take one, thank you,” he nods, hand reaching into the bag as he grabs just one single candy, unwrapping the package before he pops it into his mouth. “Thank you,” he nods again with a delightful smile.

“Of course. Did you buy the couch?” you ask, taking slow steps away from the desk as he keeps his eyes on you.

“I… did not. Bought another one,” he admits shortly and you know you’ve reached the limit. If you ask more, he’ll get suspicious, so you just nod smiling before walking up to the spot Eden has reserved for you. When you sit down, you catch the professor paying you one last glance before he returns to what he was previously doing.

“You are a genius, because now we can watch him suck on a fucking candy for the next few minutes,” Eden mumbles quietly, making you laugh.

“I knew this would be a good plan,” you sigh, satisfied with the work you’ve done. Now it’s just a matter of time.

Every Monday and Wednesday, you arrive with the same bag of candy to the lecture hall, walk up to Professor Styles and offer him one. And he always takes one. The first few times he seems hesitant when he spots you approaching him, but he slowly grows used to your tiny act of kindness that occurs every time you see him. On week three you expand the plan. You usually have lunch with Nat on Thursdays since you both have a break between one and two pm. The two of you try to take advantage of the warm early autumn days and sit under the pergola that’s near the building where Professor Styles’ office is as well. It’s mere coincidence, you only like that place because it’s close to the lecture hall you have to go to after lunch, but you notice that the professor emerges from Building C around one thirty, walking back to his office probably after one of his classes. The sidewalk runs directly next to the pergola so it gives you a chance to bring the candy out one more time every week. You nicely greet him when he is nearing the two of you and then hold out the bag, asking if he wants some. He always takes one and thanks you with a sweet smile that leaves you a tad bit blushed.

“I can’t fucking believe your plan is working,” Nat chuckles in disbelief on one occasion when the professor just disappeared in the building, probably happily unwrapping his candy of the day.

“It’s funny, innit?” you grin at her proudly.

Frankly, this is just a fun experiment for you. You don’t actually think that the professor will think of you differently even the slightest. You might be able to plant the thought of you in his head, but that doesn’t instantly mean that he’ll start fancying you and actually do something about it. It would be ridiculously naïve to think it’s going to be you who breaks through the wall that hundreds of women had already tried to knock down.

Week six is what brings the breakthrough. After long consideration and discussion with Nat and Eden, you decide to test if the experiment has been successful. You offer one last candy on Monday, but Wednesday brings the change. You go to lecture without candy. Well, you have it on you, but you decide not to ask him if he wants some.

Walking into the lecture hall, as always, he is already sitting at his desk, flipping through the pages of a book when you walk up to him with the intention of asking him a question on the paper that’s due next week.

“Professor Styles?” you softly speak up, catching his attention. “Can I have a question about the paper?”

“Of course,” he nods and you can’t tell just yet if he was expecting the candy or not.

“I was wondering if I can use a diagram to visualize my results at the end. I have a brilliant idea to summarize the data with one.”

“Sure, just make sure to give credit wherever it’s due, if you are using someone else’s work for the diagram.”

“Definitely,” you smile at him and wait a moment. That’s where you see the anticipation in his eyes.

His gaze flickers down to your hands and then to your bag where you always carry the candy and when his eyes meet yours again, you see him swallow hard.

He was expecting the candy. Not only expecting, but he started salivating when he saw you, thinking that he would get the candy from you as always.

“Is… that all?” he asks, the slightest hint of hope appearing in his tone, probably waiting for you to pull the bag of candy out of your bag and offer him one. But it’s not happening today.

“Yes, thank you very much,” you nod smiling widely before you turn around and walk away, a shocked and triumphant look appearing on your face once he can’t see it anymore and when Eden sees you, she gasps.

“He fucking expected the candy, didn’t he?!” she whispers at you in shock and you nod frantically, still not believing your plan worked.

“You should have seen the anticipation in his eyes, he really thought I was gonna offer him some!”

“Oh my God, this is hilarious!” Eden laughs covering her mouth as the lecture hall starts to fill up slowly.

Turning forward, you see that the professor is sitting behind his desk, the book that had his attention before your arrival is long forgotten in front of him, now he is staring ahead of him with slightly furrowed eyebrows, deep in his thoughts.

Is he thinking about you? Or why he was expecting candy from you?

You see him reach for his water bottle and he takes two big gulps probably to wash away his need for the candy before he narrows his eyes and at last they find you in the auditorium. You tilt your head to the side innocently smiling, as if you know absolutely nothing about anything. You keep eye-contact, forcing you not to be the one who breaks it and he is intimidating. You feel like he can read your mind as he stares at you and when he finally turns his gaze back at the book, you exhale sharply.

The lecture goes down just as usual and when the professor dismisses the class you decide to put the cherry to the top. Walking down between the desks you grab a candy from your bag and while the professor is talking to a girl who also had a question about the paper, you place the candy to his desk next to his book. He doesn’t see you walk out and you don’t see him when he finds it, but something is telling you he figured you out. No way a man as smart as him doesn’t realize what game you’ve been playing with him.

Sitting under the pergola on Thursday you are deep in discussion with Nat, helping her with a task sheet she has to turn in after lunch but she completely forgot about it. As the two of you are trying to do the seemingly endless sheet, you don’t even notice the professor walking from Building C, as always, but he spots you.

“No, I don’t think that’s even a thing, you can’t write that,” you tell Nat, but she shakes her head.

“I don’t care if it’s a thing, I just want to fill in the whole thing so the teacher doesn’t think I finished it in twenty minutes before class,” she mumbles, scribbling down her answer as you just chuckle at her.

Suddenly, you see a pair of dusty Vans appear in your sight and as your eyes move up, you are facing none other than Professor Styles, standing right in front of you, holding out his hand with his hand turned upwards, a cheeky smile tugging on his lips. His appearance takes you by surprise and for a moment you just dumbly stare down at his palm, then up at his eyes.

“Very smart. Pulling a pavlovian on me with my favorite candy,” he speaks up, dropping his hand as he cocks his head to the side. Nat looks up from her sheet with wide eyes as you stare at the professor with blushing cheeks.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, professor,” you tell him with a knowing smirk.

“Of course. You know, it took me a moment to realize yesterday, but I wanted to let you know that… I think it was clever.”

“If I knew anything about what you’re talking about… I would say thank you. But I stand up for my innocence.”

“Surely,” he chuckles softy. “Have a great rest of your week,” he then nods before turning around to walk away, but you quickly reach into your bag and grab a candy.

“Professor Styles!” you call out and he turns back just in time to catch the candy you throw in his way. He glances at it in his palm before his eyes snap up to you again, smirking at you shortly before he disappears in the building.

“Okay, call me stupid, but I could feel the sexual tension between the two of you,” Nat says as soon as the professor is out of sight.

“Don’t be silly, it was just… a joke and he liked it.”

“He called you clever, Y/N!”

“No, he called my trick clever.”

“But you came up with it so you’re clever too. Say whatever you want, but I actually think you have a shot at him.”

“I definitely don’t,” you laugh shaking your head and you genuinely believe it. Nat scoffs before she gets back to her sheet, but not without having one last thought about the situation.

“We’ll be laughing at how you brainwashed him into liking you when you’ll be dating for years, living together and all that shit.”

You’ve made some very questionable choices in your dating life prior. Like when you dated a boy in high school and let him take your virginity at the back of his mom’s minivan just to break up with your right after that, or when you briefly dated the guy you met at the mall, but it later turned out he was gay and he used you as his cover up in front of his family. But the worst decision of all was dating an egoistic forty years old loser who just freshly got divorced and went after you at some tacky bar you were at with your friends.

The time you spent dating Victor is way less than the time he has been bothering you, trying to make you go back to him when you’ve actually told him you don’t want anything to do with him anymore. You broke up with him just before you went home for the summer and he didn’t take it well, even drove up to your hometown and showed up at your parents’ house drunk, begging for you to take him back. He never stood a chance, not after that one time he slapped you across the face during a fight the two of you had. You tolerate a lot of things but not violence and you don’t believe him when he says it was just a onetime thing. There’s no guarantee he won’t hit you ever again and you are definitely not waiting around to see if he told you the truth.

On this particular late October evening you are searching through your whole room looking for a book you know you have, but can’t seem to find anywhere. It’s your holy bible about research methodology and you need it for your thesis work, but it seems like the small apartment has completely swallowed it.

“Didn’t you leave it at Victor’s? You were working on that long essay when you were dating him, saw you use the book all the time,” Eden tells you when you ask her if she’s seen it anywhere and then it clicks.

She is right, now you remember leaving the book at his once and you completely forgot to pick it up after things got nasty between the two of you.

“Damn it,” you growl in annoyance.

Not feeling like calling him, you send him a quick text, hoping he still has it and hasn’t burned it after one of your fights.

Y/N: Hey, I think I left my research methodology book at yours. You still have it?

Victor: I do.

Y/N: Cool, can I drop by to pick it up?

Victor: I’m leaving for work, you can come to the bar if you want it.

You sigh in defeat. Victor is a bartender at a place that’s all the way across town, takes almost an entire hour to get there, but you are left with no other choice.

Y/N: Okay, I’ll see you there.

The raining has finally stopped this morning so you feel better leaving the house than you would have if it was still pouring. You take the bus and travel across town, feeling anxious to see Victor again. Last time you met him he cursed you out and threw his phone at you, barely missing your head. You promised yourself you wouldn’t go near him again after that, but it seems like you can never get completely rid of him.

Students rarely come to this part of the town, it’s way too far from campus and has nothing to offer that can’t be found closer to the dormitories or the school’s buildings. It’s not entirely your scene either, the bars around here are liked by older generations, not by people your age, this is another reason why you don’t like coming around here.

The bar where Victor works is a place where they have different local bands perform every Friday and Saturday. It’s not a tacky nook with creepy dudes, they actually have prices on the higher end, not something you can necessarily afford with your part time job’s paycheck from the small accounting office near your apartment where you work as an assistant on your free afternoons.

Walking into the place you immediately spot Victor behind the bar and you take a deep breath before you walk up to him.

“Hey,” you call out for him, taking one of the stools along the bar.

“Hey. Long time no see.”

“Happens when you break up with someone,” you respond with a little spice and he frowns at your words. “Can you give me the book?”

“I’ll have a break in ten, can you wait for that or you have something extra urgent shit to do, as always?” You can tell he is still bitter from how things ended between the two of you, but you’ve learned not to care about it. His way of dealing with the breakup is not your responsibility, no matter how hard he is trying to prove it wrong.

You roll your eyes but nod, knowing well there’s no use to fight him. Ten minutes is not the end of the world. Busying yourself on your phone, you try to stay unnoticed and luckily, Victor can’t keep chatting with you, because customers keep coming up to him and ordering drinks. When he finally has his break he tells you to follow him to the back.

“So how have you been?” he asks as you walk down the hallway that leads to the small break room, there’s an office at the end and some kind of changing room you guess for the bands, along with a storage.

“Fine.”

“You really gonna be a bitter bitch and not talk to me?” he asks you, giving you a disgusted look, but you know it’s just the anger talking from him.

“Victor, I didn’t come here to talk, I just need my book!”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t answer my question.”

“I answered it! I’ve been fine, now give me the damn book!” you growl, losing your patience with him, but he is seemingly in the same shoes.

“When will you stop being a bitch and just drop this ridiculous act, Y/N? I’ve been after you for months yet you keep ignoring me!”

“Did it ever occur to you that I’m ignoring you because I don’t want anything to do with you? Victor, it’s been months, just… move the fuck on! Go cry to your ex-wife or something, I don’t care!”

You didn’t mean to snap, but he always brings the worst out of you. From the corner of your eyes you can see movement at the other end of the hallway where the changing room is, but you don’t get to pay much attention to it, because the next moment Victor grabs you by your arm and yanks you towards him.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! You ungrateful slut, I swear…”

There’s little you can do, he is twice as big as you are, his grip on your arm so strong there’s no doubt it will leave a mark. Your heart is racing as you try to pull yourself out of his hold, but he doesn’t even bat an eye at your attempt.

However, before he could drag you into the empty breakroom to do god knows what, he is stopped by a voice.

“Hey! Let her go!”

If you weren’t shocked enough at his violent reaction, now you are definitely think you’re going nuts, because it’s none other than Professor Styles who is now nearing you with a hard expression on his face, two other guys following right behind him and though none of them are bigger than Victor, he knows he can’t just start a fight with three men.

Your chest is heaving when the professor finally reaches you and Victor’s hold lets go of you, making you fall back a little.

“You perform here twice and think you’re some kind of rockstar?” Victor spats at the professor, but you’re a little lost in what’s really going on. Professor Styles gently grabs your wrist and pulls you behind him, eyes never leaving Victor’s burning gaze.

“You alright?” one of the other two men asks and you nod, not finding your voice to actually speak.

“Get the hell out of my sight before I call the police on you,” the professor answers in a calm yet threatening voice

Victor takes a second to himself, thinking about the choices he has before he turns around and disappears in the breakroom, slamming the door behind him, leaving you in complete shock about what just happened.

Professor Styles then turns around, his eyes soften at seeing how shaken you are and quite frankly, you feel like you are in a bad and quite weird dream.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks, clearly worried about you and you just shake your head no.

“I-I’m fine, I think,” you mumble out of breath.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” the guy who asked if you’re alright suggests and you nod in agreement, following them kind of blindly, the three of them keeping you in their little circle as you walk out to the bar and they don’t stop until you are out of the place in the cold night air. You slowly come back to reality and process that Professor Styles just saved you out of fucking nowhere from your abusive asshole ex. That’s what you call a plot twist.

You finally take a moment to look at the other two guys, they both look the same age as the professor, or maybe a little older, both of them are rocking some facial hair, the one that asked you seems a little more open while the other one quite reserved but friendly looking.

“What… What were you doing back there?” you ask, turning to face the professor. He clearly seems upset, but you’re not sure if it’s entirely because of what happened with Victor back then or because you are standing outside some random bar on a Saturday night, definitely crossing his personal boundaries he keeps so high at school.

“We played here tonight, was just about to leave when I saw you.”

“You have a band?” you ask, shocked at the detail.

“A pretty good one,” the talkative guy chuckles. “I’m Adam, nice to meet you. This is Mitch.”

You shake hands with them introducing yourself as well.

“Y/N is… my student,” the professor adds as if he is clearing the air for his bandmates, a kind of warning for them.

From the direction of the parking lot two women emerge, laughing on something as they walk up to the four of you, both of them eyeing you curiously.

“Hey boys, who is this pretty girl?”

“Sarah, Charlotte, this is Y/N, she is my student. Y/N, these are my other band mates, Sarah and Charlotte,” the professor introduces you as you shake hands with them quickly.

“I-I’m sorry I interrupted your time with your friends, professor,” you shyly apologize, feeling like a complete intruder all of a sudden with all his bandmates around you.

“Interrupt? Sweetheart, that dude was about to do some unforgivable things to you, don’t apologize for needing help,” Adam snorts. “You’re lucky we were there.”

“What? What happened?” Sarah asks in confusion.

“Just… my asshole ex got a little too violent when I didn’t want to chit-chat with him,” you admit with a defeated sigh.

“Oh shit, but are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you smile faintly, though you still can feel his grip on your upper arm. “I, um… I better get going, I guess. Thank you for… the saving,” you say, a little lost about what should be said in this situation.

“You’re leaving? We were just about to go to a much better place, why don’t you come with us, forget about your ex a little?” Charlotte offers and you catch the professor’s panicked look for a split second.

“I, um… I don’t think I should, but thank you.”

“Why shouldn’t you?” Sarah questions.

“Because I know how Professor Styles hates to mingle with students outside of lectures and I don’t want to cross any lines,” you truthfully admit. The professor furrows his eyebrows.

“I don’t hate mingling with students,” he states.

“Well, you are surely not the most reachable professor on campus,” you chuckle lightly. “But it’s fine, I understand it. So I’ll just head home.”

“Come on, Harry. Let her tag along for just one drink!” Sarah begs and seemingly everyone would be happy to have you join for a little. The professor’s eyes meet yours, as if he is contemplating whether he should say yes or let you go home. When he finally speaks up you’re more surprised than when you realized it was him saving you from Victor.

“I guess you could use a drink after what happened in there,” he says, the tiniest smirk showing on his lips as your eyes shoot up.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, come on,” he nods and your little group heads down the street.

Turns out the place they were heading to was just two corners down, so they left all their stuff at the minivan at the parking lot for the time being. You slide into an empty booth, Adam and Mitch go to get the first round, so it’s just the three of you girls and the professor.

“So you’re in one of Harry’s lectures?” Charlotte asks with a warm smile.

“Yeah, for the second time, actually. Had him in first year, now it’s my fifth semester and I had no doubt I have to take his class if I have the chance.” You pay a glance at him, but he is staring at his hands on his lap, you can’t tell if it’s because he is uncomfortable with you there or if it’s something else.

“It’s so funny, because we’ve heard that he is known to be a good teacher but we never actually heard it from one of his students,” Sarah chuckles. “What’s he like?”

“Sarah, you enjoy talking about me when I’m very much present?” he scoffs, giving her a look, but she just shrugs innocently.

“Come on, I bet even you’re curious about what your students think of you. Now is your time to find it out!”

“I think Professor Styles knows very well that he is one of the best, if not the actual best,” you truthfully say and see him raise his eyebrows a little.

“What makes him so good?” Charlotte questions.

You glance at him again, as a way of asking for permission if you can answer. You definitely don’t want to make him even more uncomfortable by talking about him when he is right next to you. He looks into your eyes, and his expression tells you that he wants to hear your answer as well, but he quickly adds:

“You don’t have to answer, Y/N.”

“It’s not a secret,” you admit it with a smile. “Professor Styles’ lectures always leave you with a question to think about until next week, he is great at getting into your head without you even noticing. He explains the most complicated things in so simple ways, it should be taught,” you say with a soft chuckle. “I think his enormous knowledge about many different fields in science and just life in general is amusing, anyone can learn something from him, it’s guaranteed.”

“Wow, where is this academic genius side of yours when you’re around us, or we only get to see the dad joke version of you?” Sarah teases him and you can’t push down a laugh, imagining him cracking dad jokes feels so alien but still kind of fitting for him.

“That’s what you get when you’re a nosy little thing,” he retorts with a small smirk. He then turns to you, and as Sarah and Charlotte are laughing on something, he lowly tells you: “You can call me Harry outside of school. Feels weird that you call me professor when my friends are around.”

“You sure?”

He nods and you spot a small smile on his lips. He must be getting used to the feel of you being there, but you still don’t want to push his limits too much.

“Can I ask you something?” he questions, leaning back in his seat.

“Of course.”

“If your ex is this aggressive, why were you there with him?”

His question is surprising, you didn’t think he would ask you something personal, but you guess it’s a valid question after he just saved you from Victor.

“I wanted to get a book back that I left at his place. Didn’t even get to the point where he could have given it back,” you mumble under your breath.

“What book?”

“Just this… research methodology book, wanted it back for my thesis work, but I guess I’ll have to buy a new one,” you huff bitterly.

“Is it the one written by William Scott?”

“Y-Yeah, it is. You know it?” you ask, but then realize it’s a bit of a dumb question. He probably knows every academically important book you will ever come across.

“I actually have it myself,” he nods. Just then, Mitch and Adam return with the drinks and you thank them for the beer, already reaching for your money to pay, but Adam shakes his head.

“It’s on me, don’t worry.”

You watch as Mitch sits beside Sarah, curling an arm around her shoulders and though you couldn’t have guessed that they are a couple, seeing them like this it actually makes sense, they look cute together.

You take a sip from your beer, trying to join the conversation Sarah and Charlotte are having, when your attention is pulled back by Harry.

“I can… lend you the book, if you want.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. I’ll just get a new one.”

“No, really. I think I even have two copies, I can give one to you.”

“I couldn’t ask you that, prof—I mean Harry.”

“You’re not asking,” he smiles at you softly. “I probably won’t need both, so why not put the extra into use?”

“Okay, but I’ll pay for it,” you insist, but Harry shakes his head.

“No need, one of them was a gift so I didn’t pay for it either.”

“Well… if you’re sure about it, I would love to have that extra copy, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So Y/N, what do you study exactly?” Adam questions, pulling you out of your little discussion with Harry.

“I’m majoring in anthropology, but I’ve been taking some psychology classes on the side just because I’m interested in the topics.”

“And what is Harry teaching you?”

“Had him for intro Sociology lecture first year, now I’m in his Methodology of Cultural Anthropology class.”

“All these subjects with their GY endings, I don’t know how you two put up with science on this level,” Sarah huffs in amusement.

“The names sometimes sound fancier than the subject itself,” you tell her smiling.

“But I bet you need to be quite smart to study these stuff on this level you are at.”

“Oh, it’s just a bachelorette degree, I wouldn’t say I’m that smart,” you chuckle shyly.

“She is totally toning it down,” Harry speaks up, catching everyone’s attention. “I know students tend to take my into Sociology class for just some extra credits so I always give them two options for the semester. They can either write a two pages long review of any article related to the topics talked about at lecture and get their strong C with the bare minimum, or actually participate and do a research of their own and turn in an at least seven pages long essay about their chosen topic. Y/N turned in an eleven pages long paper on the history of death sentences in the U.S. in the last fifty years and how society is thinking about it nowadays. It was easily one of the best works I’ve ever read and it was just an intro class.”

“You remember my essay?” you ask in complete shock.

“Of course. As I said, one of the bests I’ve read,” he nods confidently.

“So you’re like… on Harry’s smart level, actually?” Sarah asks, tilting her head to the side and you can feel yourself blushing.

You’ve always been said to be the smart kid at school, but you never thought it to be true yourself. In your book, you were just doing your absolute best, soaking in whatever knowledge was thrown in your way. You never actually understood how someone could just not study for an exam or not do an assignment, because you always felt like it was your duty to do the best you can. You thought yourself to be more of a hard-working student rather than a smart one.

“She is definitely a bright one,” Harry agrees, his eyes meeting yours as a small smile appears on his lips and you think that this is the biggest compliment you’ve ever gotten. “She actually tricked me with a psychological experiment and I didn’t even realize it,” he laughs and you can’t hold your smirk back.

“What? What did you do?” Charlotte asks, dying to know how you played Harry.

“Have you heard of the Pavlovian response?” you ask looking around and you can tell it rings a bell for all of them.

“The one with the dogs and the bell?” Mitch asks and you nod.

“Wait you did that on Harry?” Adam laughs with wide eyes and you just nod with a sly smile.

“I just offered him strawberry flavored candies every time I saw him. Took me six weeks to build up the response but he actually started expecting it whenever he saw me,” you tell them chuckling to yourself.

“And I only realized it when she stopped with the candy and I felt this massive feeling that something was missing,” Harry adds shaking his head with a soft laugh.

“Okay, that’s hilarious,” Sarah snorts clapping her hands together. “Y/N, I adore you, you’re brilliant!”

“It was just… an experiment,” you shrug shyly.

The night carries much faster than you realize. One drink turns into three and before you could realize, it’s already past midnight. Eden texts you, asking where you are since you said you’d just get the book and go home right away, but it’s been hours.

Y/N: Don’t freak out, but I’m at a bar with Prof. Styles and his friends. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow!

Eden: HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME NOT TO FREAK OUT AFTER READING THIS???!?!

Y/N: Lol, chill. Nothing extra is happening.

Eden: It’s already extra that you’re out with him.

Realizing how late it is, you decide you better get going, since it’s a long way back home. When you tell the little group that you’re about to head out, they all agree that it’s time to part ways and leave, so you all slowly make your way back to the parking lot.

“Do you know where the bus stop is back?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, trying to spot where you should be heading.

“You want to go home by bus at this time?” Harry asks.

“Well, I surely won’t pay for a ride, I live almost an hour away from here.”

“An hour?” he frowns. “I’ll take you home, come on,” he tells you, heading towards the minivan.

“What? No need. The bus is fine,” you protest, but he shakes his head.

“You are not taking the bus at this hour, not under my watch,” he simply states and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Didn’t realize I was under your watch,” you tease him and it seems like your comment caught him off-guard. “Don’t piss your pants, I was just joking,” you tell him, and thought for a second you feel like you are being way too comfortable around him, his smile quickly smashes your doubts.

Sarah, Mitch and Charlotte all take an Uber since they live near each other and Adam is picked up by his wife, so when everyone is off to their own way, you and Harry get in the van and head to your place.

“How long have you had the band?” you ask, in need to break the silence that’s been weighing down on the two of you. “If you don’t mind me asking,” you add quickly when you see him.

“About four years. Used to have another one, but we parted ways.”

“And what do you do in the band?”

“I, uhh… Well I mostly sing but I also play the guitar.”

“You know, I’m not that surprised you can sing,” you chuckle to yourself sinking further down in your seat.

“How come?”

“You have a voice that’s great to listen to at lectures, makes sense that you can sing as well.”

You take a moment to look at his hand that’s gripping the steering wheel, he is the kind that drives with one hand on the wheel, the other one on the shifting gear. He makes it look so easy as he steers the wheel whenever he is turning a corner while his other one easily moves around the shifting gear, his tattoos are peeking from under his rolled up shirt sleeve. He catches you staring and you feel a blush burning on your cheeks as you turn your head to the other side. Maybe you shouldn’t have drunk that third beer…

“Am I really seen that rigid by the students?” he speaks up after a while and you turn back to face him.

“What do you mean?”

“You said I’m known about not mingling with students.”

“Well, you don’t mingle, do you? But it doesn’t mean you come off as rigid. More like… closed-off. Private.”

“I know I should be a little friendlier, but I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, I think everyone gets it why you’re like that.”

“Do they?” he arches an eyebrow.

“Well, you’re obviously a ladies’ favorite, but it doesn’t sit well with you being a person of some sort of power. It’s clear that you don’t want anyone to get the wrong picture about you. I’ve seen how bluntly girls are flirting with you, some of them are quite scandalous if you ask me,” you huff to yourself. “I totally get it that you don’t want even just a rumor to spread about you.”

“Didn’t think I was that obvious,” he admits, running his tongue over his lips.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re still a highly fancied professor, in all means,” you tell him with a warm smile.

“Does this mean you also fancy me?” he suddenly questions and your lips part at his words. He quickly realizes how ambiguous he just sounded. “I mean, am I one of your favorites? Where do I stand in your chart of professors?”

You can’t tell for sure because of the lack of lighting, but you could have sworn there’s a light blush on his cheeks as he corrects himself. Because of this, you don’t know for sure if he really meant it academically. Either way, the answer is the same.

“You’re my favorite,” you confidently state and your eyes meet for a moment before he turns back to face the road.

The rest of the ride is pretty quiet, you keep giving him directions to your place until you finally arrive a little before one am.

“Well, thank you for the ride,” you smile at him, grabbing the door handle.

“See you on Monday,” he nods shortly and watches as you get out of the can.

“Yeah, see you, professor,” you smirk before shutting the door and walking up the stairs and disappearing in your building.

“Was that Professor Styles in the fucking minivan?!” Nat throws the question at you the moment you open the front door.

“Jesus, why are you still up?” you sigh, shutting the door and shimmying yourself out of your coat.

“Because we were waiting for you!” Eden rolls her eyes. “So, care to tell us what the fuck just happened?” The three of you get comfortable on the couch and you give them a quick rundown of your evening from meeting Victor through being saved by Harry right to him offering to drive you home and they listen to you with wide eyes in complete shock that you just spent your entire evening with the most handsome professor on campus who also happens to be the most private as well.

“If I didn’t see him sitting in that van with my own eyes I would straight up think you’re lying, but I saw his tattooed hand over the windshield,” Nat gasps, processing the story.

“I know, I still feel like it didn’t happen, but it did.”

“And what is he like around his friends? What are his friends like?” Eden questions, hugging her knees to her chest.

“He is pretty much just like in lecture, just jokes a little more and he has a looser vocab. His friends are hilarious, I really got along with Sarah.”

“I know you still think it won’t happen, but I actually think you have a shot at him, Y/N,” Eden points it out and you just chuckle.

“Why, because he saved me from my douche ex?”

“No, because he let you stay for the night with him and his friends. This is literally the first ever time a student hung out with him.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Harry is a reserved and private person—“

“Harry?!” they gasp at the same time.

“You are now just casually calling him Harry?” Nat asks with ogling eyes.

“Well, yes, he asked me to, because it felt weird that I was calling him Professor Styles with his friends around.”

“Okay, I’m giving it… let’s say, he seems to be moving pretty slow, but y’all will be fucking in about six months,” Nat bluntly tells you and it makes you laugh.

“Oh, sure, whatever. I’m gonna shower and head to bed, you two don’t get too crazy with your fairytales,” you wave at them before disappearing in the bathroom.

The rest of the weekend goes by uneventfully, outside of the pathetic attempt from Victor to get you to talk to him, but you’ve had enough of him for a life so you finally block his number and hope you won’t ever see him again.

Both you and Eden oversleep on Monday morning, skipping your early morning lecture and already being late for Harry’s class as well, so you barely make it to Harry’s class in time, just sprinting up the rows, flopping down to your usual seats when Harry starts the lecture. It all goes as usual as if nothing really happened during the weekend, Harry doesn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. Glancing over at his desk you spot the book he promised you and you can’t hold your smile back. Still grinning, your eyes accidentally meet with his gaze and he stops for a heartbeat as if he is questioning why you are so smiley, but you just shake your head and he carries on before anyone could suspect a thing.

“I gotta run, my favorite TA is having his office hours now and I have a few questions for him. See you at home?” Eden asks once the lecture is over and you are getting ready to leave.

“Sure, have a good day!” you call after her and she sings a ‘you too!’ before running out of the room.

You pack up and head down between the rows, Harry spotting you right away and you go up to him without him even asking you to.

“Hey, sorry we were a little late to class this morning,” you tell him and he just shakes his head kindly.

“No worries. How… is your arm?” He furrows his eyebrows, his gaze wandering down to your forearm where Victor grabbed you on Saturday.

“Oh, it’s fine. I just have a little bruise,” you shrug, because it really isn’t that big deal, but you can tell Harry is still outraged by what happened.

“M’sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. Would be worse if you weren’t there,” you smile at him kindly and he nods to himself before turning to his desk.

“I, uhh, I brought the book we talked about,” he shyly says grabbing it from the desk. As people are exiting the room you can feel the glares on yourself, most of them are probably trying to figure out why Harry is talking to you for so long, but you don’t pay much attention to them as you take the book he hands you.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for it?”

“No need, keep it, it’s yours,” he shakes his head with a small smile.

“Thank you then.” You slide the book into your bag before looking back up at him. “Well, I’ll see you on Wednesday, professor,” you smile warmly before heading out.

“See you!” he calls after you before you close the door behind you.

The week carries on as usual, you are working on papers that needs to be turned in before the fall break so you spend some extra time at the library, using every bit of free time you have so you finish everything on time.

Things go back to kind of normal with Harry, he greets you in the mornings when you walk into the lecture hall and other than the warm smile he occasionally gives you, nothing has changed.

Friday however brings a surprise, but not from Harry. You’re sitting at work in the afternoon, typing away on your computer, filling in some sheets when you get a notification on your phone from Instagram.

Sarah Jones is now following you!

You tap on her profile but see that it’s private so without a second thought you request following. Luckily, she approves you only a few seconds later and you gain access to her posts, quite a few of them featuring Harry on them.

Photos of birthdays, weekend getaways, band practices and performances, Harry makes a lot of appearances on her feed and you find yourself scrolling all the way down until you reach the first few posts from 2016. Just as you are about to leave her profile you get a message from her.

Sarah: Hey Y/N! Charlotte and I’ve been talking about you recently, loved having you with us last Saturday! Want to grab a drink with the two of us this weekend?

Y/N: Would love to, but I’m not sure Harry would like the idea…

Sarah: He won’t be there and besides, who is he to tell you who you can and can’t hang out with?

She is right. You enjoyed spending time with them as well and Harry has little to no word in if you want to meet up with his friends or not. This invitation has no connection to him being your professor.

Y/N: Alright, I’m down!

 This is how your friendship with Sarah and Charlotte starts. You meet up with them on Saturday and have an amazing time, they are definitely fun people to spend time with and though at first you feel hesitant to get closer to them, you soon forget about your doubts and just enjoy your time with them.

Your little girls night goes so well that they invite you out for dinner on Wednesday with Mitch joining the little trio. You learn that he is a quiet but hilarious guy, he and Sarah make a great couple, you think.

“We have a gig this Saturday at Green Light, want to come?” Charlotte asks at the end of the dinner.

“Okay, I really don’t think Harry would be a fan of that idea,” you point out, feeling like it’s surely over the lines. He still doesn’t know about you meeting some of his friends without him and you’re not sure how he would react if he did.

“Harry can fuck off, not everything is about him. We are inviting you as our friends, he just happens to be in the band as well,” Sarah rolls her eyes, clearly not as bothered by the situation as you are.

“I just don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“He is a big boy, he’ll get himself over it, don’t worry. So, are you coming?”

“I guess, alright,” you nod with a soft chuckle.

 Next week you contemplate telling Harry that Sarah invited you out for their gig, but at last you decide against it, something is telling you he would try to talk you down and now you’re pretty hyped to see them perform. So you keep quiet and just brace yourself for the worst when Saturday comes.

You don’t overdress for the occasion, decide to wear some light washed mom jeans and a simple sweater tucked into it, a casual look for a night out.

Even when you’re on your way to the place you are having second guesses whether it’s a good idea or not, but you tell yourself it’s not that big of a deal and if Harry flips, you’ll just tell him you came for Sarah and Charlotte.

As you get off the bus and walk towards the place, you immediately spot the little group of three next to Harry’s minivan, Sarah waving in your way as you become visible in the streetlights.

“There she is!” she beams happily and you just chuckle at her.

Harry is standing with his back facing your way but seeing Sarah’s reaction he turns around and you swear for a moment you think he is about to faint when he spots you.

“Hey everyone,” you smile as Sarah pulls you into a hug and Charlotte does the same.

“Hey, if it isn’t our little trouble seeker!” Adam teases you and you just roll your eyes at him before shyly glancing at Harry who is standing on your left, awfully quiet and deep in his thoughts since your arrival. He feels your eyes on him and his gaze meets yours and just by one look you can tell he is pissed.

Just as you thought.

The group chats a little longer outside before Adam suggests they head inside and get ready for their start and you are just about to follow them, but Harry keeps you back.

“Y/N, can we have a word?”

Staying back you nod, hiding your hands in your coat’s pockets as you look at him, lips curled into your mouth.

“What are you doing here?” he questions, eyebrows knitted together and he looks so damn intimidating, the neon lights from the front of the building tinting part of his face green, but you think red would suit him better with this look.

“I… came to see the band playing, what do you mean?”

“Is this your sneaky way of trying to come after me? Because I thought we had a very clear discussion about my thoughts regarding situations like this and you seemed to understand it.”

He comes off way angrier than you think he should be. Yes, it might be uncomfortable for him to see you here, but the tone he just hit is way too harsh for your liking and professor or not, you are not letting anyone talk to you like that when it’s completely not relevant.

“Okay, calm down. First of all, I was invited here.”

“By who?” he spats.

“Sarah and Charlotte, we met last weekend and had dinner this week as well. Had a great time and they asked me to come tonight as well, so get off of your high horse, I’m not here for you.” You can see the change on his face as the information sinks in and he realizes he accused you wrongly, but you’re not quite done with him. “But if I was here to see you, why does that bother you so much? You can’t avoid meeting students every minute when you’re off-campus. If I came here because of you, it shouldn’t affect you this much if you weren’t worried about something else than me just being here,” you point out and he furrows his eyebrows at you. “If I didn’t know better I would think you’re afraid to be around me because you actually like me, huh!” you tell him with an innocent yet suggesting look. His eyes widen and the confidence in himself quickly vanishes from him, replaced by anxiety and nervous looks as he realizes the meaning behind your words.

“I-I, that’s not—I’m not—“

“Take a breath before you pass out, Harry,” you sigh, dropping the hard act. “I didn’t come here for you and if you want to know I actually thought a lot about canceling because of you. But I genuinely like spending time with Sarah and Charlotte so I’m here as their friend.”

Harry stares back at you, completely defeated, regret filling his green eyes. You feel a little guilty for snapping so hard at him, after all you do understand his point of view, but you genuinely don’t think it’s as big of a deal as he makes it to be.

“I-I’m…”

“It’s fine, okay? Let’s just… move past it, alright?” you suggest and he nods as the two of you head inside, joining the rest of the group.

You stay behind while they are waiting for their time to perform, keeping some distance from Harry so he can’t accuse you again, but you occasionally look his way, catching him already looking at you, but you just can’t tell what could be possibly going on in his head. When it’s time for them to go on stage, you go out to the actual bar area and sit by the counter, not too much at the front but close enough to see everything that happens on the stage.

When they start playing you can’t take your eyes off Harry. His energy behind the microphone just knocks you off the stool and you watch him completely mesmerized as if he has put a spell on you. It feels like he turns into an entirely different person on stage, nothing like the man you see at lectures every Monday and Wednesday. He sings perfectly on key, putting some extra charm into the songs with his little additional tunes whenever he is not singing a line.

But what makes it absolutely impossible to look away from him is because he keeps staring at you, eyes locking with yours for way too long every time he catches your gaze. You try to ignore it, but it’s quite hard when his eyes are basically burning into you, it leaves you breathless.

Once the concert is over you order yourself two tequila shots quickly, because something is telling you that you’ll need the boosting if you want to face Harry after his little performance.

But for your surprise, when you join the band again and get near him, nothing really happens. It seems like Harry has come to peace with your presence in his little group of friends and he actually treats you like you’re part of the circle.

The six of you occupy a table at the back of the bar to spend there the rest of the evening and it’s all good, it seems. A harmless night out with a bunch of friends, nothing extra. Harry actually strikes up conversations with you involved and you feel like you’ve overcome a banter finally.

“Do you need a ride home?” Harry asks at the end of the night when everyone is about to head home.

“Only if it’s fine by you.”

“Wouldn’t offer it if it wasn’t,” he smiles shortly before the two of you say goodbye to the rest of the group and head to his van that was previously loaded with their stuff.

The ride back to your place is now much shorter, it takes less than ten minutes to arrive and you are just about to say goodbye when he speaks up.

“I want to apologize for the way I reacted to your arrival earlier tonight. It was… unnecessary.”

“It’s fine, I’m sorry for what I said after that too.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he shakes his head, staring down at his hands in his lap.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you shouldn’t be sorry for saying something that’s true.”

It feels like all air is knocked out of you as his words process and you stare at him with parted lips and raised eyebrows. When he finally looks up at you, he looks so lost and tortured, you feel the urge to hug him, but you stay still as he continues talking.

“I got mad because I do like you and seeing you outside of school is very… confusing for me. And this is why I’m gonna be very straightforward with you now. I can tell Sarah and Charlotte like you a lot and they are stubborn, they won’t see the situation from my point of view and I’m no one to tell you if you can hang out with us or not. But what I can most certainly tell you is that nothing will happen between us. I’m very serious about this, Y/N. You are very much welcomed to spend more time with us, but I want you to know that it won’t go further than this.”

For a couple of moments you’re only able to stare back at him, blinking completely frozen at his sudden confession. You could tell tonight has been a turning point of some kind, but you were not expecting this speech from him at all and now you are at a complete loss of words. It takes some time before you actually find your voice.

“Okay,” is all you can breathe out, nothing more, but it’s pretty much all you have to tell him. You won’t go against his will and force him to do something he doesn’t want. He deserves the respect.

He nods shortly, seemingly still very torn about the situation and you figure it’s better if you just leave now.

“Thank you for the ride,” you quietly tell him opening the door. “Good night.”

“Good night, Y/N,” you hear him before you shut the door and walk into your building, feeling like you’ve been just hit by a pile of bricks.

Unlike the last time when Harry brought you home, Nat and Eden are not waiting for you in the living room. Nat is probably already asleep and Eden went out for a date earlier and she hasn’t been back. You don’t bother to turn the lights on as you walk inside, just kick your boots off and hang your coat before collapsing onto the couch, just staring into the darkness, Harry’s words repeating in your head again and again.

“… I do like you and seeing you outside of school is very confusing for me.”

“… nothing will happen between us. I’m very serious about this, Y/N.”

“… but I want you to know that it won’t go further than this.”

Harry, your professor, The Harry Styles admitted that he likes you but also told you pretty forward that nothing is ever going to happen between the two of you. It still feels like a fever dream and you’re not sure how you are feeling about it just yet. Hanging out with him was already quite overwhelming, but you were not expecting this confession from him at all.

What are you supposed to do with this information? If he is so set on not taking any further steps, why did he even share it with you? He could have just easily keep his thoughts and feelings to himself and get away with it without you ever figuring it out. It doesn’t make sense.

For the first time in your life, something Harry Styles said doesn’t make sense. That’s new.

Following Harry’s confession you truly have no idea what to do, so you just go with the flow. He seemingly stays the same when it comes to you, friendly, but still keeping his distance. Nothing changes in the lecture hall, he just occasionally asks if you’re alright and you are guessing he only wants to know if you are having any trouble with Victor, but you haven’t even heard from him since you’ve blocked his number and you hope it’s going to stay like that.

You meet up with him and the band a few times outside of school and it’s not necessarily awkward, but you can tell he is keeping his distance from you, he never sits next to you or has one-on-one conversations with you, only if it’s necessary. The only time he dares to be alone with you is when he sometimes offers you to drive you home. You usually say no at first, but he insists, so you end up sitting in silence in the car until you arrive home, say goodbye and end of story.

No one in school even suspects that you’ve made your way into Harry’s group of friends, only Nat and Eden knows about it but they swore to keep it a secret, but you didn’t tell them about Harry’s confession. Whatever it is that’s happening between you and Harry, you would never put him into a situation he is trying to avoid so badly. You sit in his classes like everyone else, but while all the other girls are drooling over him, trying to get just slightly closer to him in any way possible, you sit in silence and think about the precious times when you get to see him outside of school.

Even with him being so distant towards you, you can’t help but slowly start falling for him. He doesn’t have to talk to you or be direct to you, it’s enough that you see him as himself, you see him with his friends, how he acts whenever he is not teaching, standing on the podium. And he is an amazing person, there’s no doubt about that.

The semester is gradually moving forward, once you get back from fall break, you basically move into the library, studying for your exams and finishing up all your papers. December arrives pretty fast and before you realize, the whole town is decorated with lights and Christmas trees everywhere, the shops are trying to lure customers in with all the sales and the Christmas shopping officially starts.

One weekend, when there’s only two weeks left of school before everyone heads home for the holidays, you and Nat go for a shopping trip, trying to buy every gift in time so you don’t have to worry about that at least last minute.

Wandering around the mall you naturally take a trip to the bookstore, always ready to buy something new to read. Nat dives into the cooking books wanting to get one for her mother while you’re just aimlessly looking through the shelves. As your eyes are running through the titles in the psychology department, you stop at one particular book, pulling it off the shelf as you can’t help but smile to yourself.

The secrets of Classical Conditioning.

You flip through the pages and though it doesn’t seem to be a groundbreaking work, it’s just explaining Pavlov’s experiment and further uses of it, you still decide to buy it.

That evening you sit at your desk, the book open in front of you, a pen next to it as you try to think of something to write into it. At first you just wanted to give it to Harry as it is, but you figured it would be a nice gesture to write a few words into it he could always read when he opens the book. After some consideration, you finally grab the pen and start writing.

-

Dear Harry,

I will always think of you whenever I hear of Mr. Ivan Petrovics Pavlov or Classical Conditioning. Thank you for another amazing semester and I’m happy I got to see you without standing on a podium. You are an amazing man, never change.

Happy holidays,

Y/N

-

Last week of school, you go to the Wednesday lecture, the last one of the semester with the book sitting in your bag. All through the 90 minutes class as Harry is having an open discussion about the lecture with the students, you keep debating whether you should give him the book or not. When the lecture is over and Harry wishes everyone happy holidays, you grab it from your bag and holding it to your chest you wait until there’s only a few people in the room. Eden has already left to hand in a paper so you walk down the rows on your own, eyes on the man behind his desk who is now packing up his papers and notes, getting ready to leave.

“Harry?” you faintly speak his name, grabbing his attention as he looks up at you from behind the desk. You glance down at the book in your hands and before you could change your mind, you place it down in front of him. “This is… for you.”

His gaze wanders down to the book, then back at you as he stares at you in awe, obviously surprised by the gesture.

“What’s this for?”

“Christmas gift?” you answer unsurely with a nervous chuckle. “I just saw it at the store and… thought of you.”

“Y/N, I can’t—“

“Yes you can and you will,” you roll your eyes at him, tired of hearing all these negations from him. He can’t, he won’t, he shouldn’t… for once, he definitely will if it’s on you. “Take it as my payment for the book you gave me.”

His eyes soften at you before he looks down at the book again, reading the title before he chuckles to himself.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he then finally says, accepting that you won’t let him return the gift under any circumstances.

“Have a nice Christmas, Harry,” you smile at him shyly, hands holding onto the strap of your bag as you start walking away.

“You too,” he faintly says and turning around you start walking, but then he stops you. “Y/N, wait!”

You stop in your track and face him curiously. He seems hesitant, stepping away from the desk, walking closer to you but still keeping some distance between the two of you.

“Do you… have plans for New Year’s Eve?”

“I, uhh—No, not yet.”

“If you happen to be back in town by then… Sarah is having this little get together. I have a feeling she already invited you, but if you said no because of me, I want you to know that it’s fine by me. Would be nice if you could come.”

He is right, Sarah did invite you over, but you kindly declined thinking Harry wouldn’t appreciate if you spent it with them. You wanted to give him a breather, have a night with his friends without having to avoid you all the time, but it seems like the situation has changed for him.

“You don’t have to invite me just because I gave you a gift, Harry.”

“It’s not about that,” he shakes his head softly. “I can tell you are getting along well with Sarah and all the others. I want you to know that I would never stand in the way and you are very much welcomed at any and all events.”

He seems and sounds genuine, you don’t see any sign of him just saying it because Sarah asked him to or something. No, this definitely came from him.

“Okay, I’ll… think about it,” you tell him with a warm smile. “See you around,” you wave at him before walking out of the room.

You don’t get to see his reaction to the words you wrote into the book and for a while, you’re not even sure he saw it. Maybe he took it home and put it on his shelf without even having a look into it, but two days later, when you’re already packing, getting ready to go home for Christmas, you get a notification that at first confuses you.

Breakfast is now following you!

You open Instagram with furrowed eyebrows as you go to the profile that just followed you. It’s a small account and private, of course and you almost close it thinking it’s just someone random when you see that it’s followed by both Sarah and Charlotte.

Could this be Harry’s profile?

The username is colazione8, it doesn’t give away much but now that you are thinking about it, it’s perfect if he wanted to stay unnoticed by his students that surely can use Instagram way better than him.

You tap on the follow request button and anxiously wait for an approval, hoping that the person behind the account is still online. You wait and wait, slowly losing hope but then the notification finally arrives. Your request has been approved.

You tap on the profile vigorously and three pictures appear in front of you. One is a picture of some random building, the first ever posted is a plate of nicely served breakfast of some sort and then there’s one that features the person you were desperately hoping to see.

It’s a picture of Harry sitting at a big dining table, a glass of wine in front of him as he is squinting his eyes towards the camera. You zoom into the picture just to make sure it’s him, but his features are clearer than daylight, it really is Harry that just followed you.

You’re still stalking his very private and not too eventful profile when you get a message from him, making your heart skip a beat.

Harry: Hey! Just wanted to thank you again for the gift, it’s really thoughtful. Read what you wrote in it… thank you, Y/N.

Y/N: I meant every word. Thank you for everything you did this semester!

It takes a few minutes for a response to arrive from him.

Harry: Are you already on your way home?

Y/N: Not yet, leaving tomorrow morning.

Harry: If I drop by your place in 20, can you come down for a sec?

Y/N: Sure!

Though your response seemed totally cool, you started panicking right away. What does this mean? Why is he coming here? Are you in trouble? You couldn’t be, you didn’t do anything wrong.

You quickly change out of your worn-out sweats and stained shirt, putting on a pair of jeans and a black hoodie, not wanting to see him looking like a total wreck. You sit on your bed, anxiously checking your phone every ten seconds to see if he has messaged you and those twenty minutes never seem to pass.

Then your phone finally chimes again.

Harry: I’m here.

Y/N: Be there in a sec.

You jump into a pair of trainers and grabbing your keys from the little sidetable you have in the hallway you storm out of the apartment, running down the stairs. As you walk out you stop in your track for a second, for some reason you were expecting the minivan, but this time, it’s a black Range Rover that’s parked in front of your building and Harry emerges from it the moment you step outside.

“Hey!” he smiles at you, shutting the door before he jogs around and you notice the little gift bag in his hands.

“Harry, is this what I think it is? Because you shouldn’t have, really,” you tell him right away as he stands in front of you, glancing down at the little bag in his hands.

“What? So you are allowed to give me a gift, but I’m not allowed to do the same?” he asks with a cheeky smile.

“But you already gave me one!”

“That wasn’t a real gift, so no,” he shakes his head, too stubborn to let it go. So instead, he nervously glances down at the little bag before handing it to you. “Here. Happy Christmas. But you can only open it when I’m gone, alright?”

“Why?”

“Just… please,” he breathes out and you not, keeping your curious hands to yourself.

“Alright. Well, thank you, Harry.”

“Sure. Um, have a great winter break and… I’ll see you around,” he smiles, walking around the car back to the side of the driving seat.

“You too, Harry. See you!”

You see him drive away as you walk back into the building, basically running up the stairs to your apartment, dying to see what’s in the little bag. Once you are locked in the safe haven of your room, you throw yourself to the bed and reach into the bag, finding a small box. One that’s usually used for jewelry. You pull it out with shaky fingers and take a deep breath before opening it.

Inside sits the cutest little silver ring you’ve literally ever seen. It’s thin and very detailed, tiny little strawberries lining next to each other and that’s the whole ring. Just the little strawberries, but it’s still the cutest you’ve ever seen. You put it on and it fits perfectly on your ring finger, holding up your hand you take a good look at how it sits on your finger. You’re in love with it.

Rolling to your back on the bed you stare up at the ceiling with a heavy heart aching for a man you know will never be yours, but you just can’t help it. The heart wants what it wants, right?

Reaching for your phone you type him a quick message

Y/N: Harry, thank you so much! It’s beautiful! But you shouldn’t have bought me anything!

Harry: I’m glad you like it :)

Y/N: I love it.

He doesn’t respond, just likes your message.

Christmas is always the same, especially because your family just never had those juicy dramas that could ruin any family events. Holidays have always been quiet and loving, pretty predictable. It’s good to be home again and spend quality time with your loved one, though your mind keeps wandering to a particular someone.

Sarah mentioned that Harry has traveled home to his mom and sister and from time to time you catch yourself thinking about what he could be possibly doing at the moment.

The only interaction between the two of you is when you post a photo with your sister and brother at Christmas dinner and he likes the photo, but nothing more. He doesn’t post or add to his story so you are left with your own elaborate fantasies of what he could possiblybe doing at home.

Sarah convinces you to spend the New Year’s Eve at hers and you are accepting the invitation a lot easier now that Harry has told you he is fine with you joining.

Just one day before the 31st you get back to your apartment and spend the second to last night of the year spiraling about the whole situation with Harry. Where are you two standing as of right now? Was his gift a gesture with a deeper meaning behind it?

You can’t step over the fact that you are not his student anymore. He has officially graded you and you’ve received your credits for his class, the ties are off, but he situation might still be risky and you doubt Harry is willing to change his mind about what he told you earlier. He made it clear that nothing will ever happen between the two of you, however you can’t help but feel a little hopeful that the new semester might bring a change into that.

After two hours spent in front of your closet and at least three mental breakdowns you finally decide to wear a black turtleneck dress which is just the perfect mixture of modest and sexy at the same time. You feel anxious to see Harry again, not sure how to act around him following your little gift exchange. There’s a chance he’ll just shut himself off once again and avoid you all night, you can’t tell.

Sarah’s place is already buzzing by the time you arrive, several guests are lounging in the living room and kitchen, some soft music is playing and it appears that everyone is enjoying the evening so far, judging from the laughter you hear from time to time.

“I’m so glad you came!” Sarah envelopes in a tight hug when you arrive.

“Thank you for inviting me. Here, brought some snacks,” you hand her the grocery bag you picked up on your way, not wanting to arrive empty-handed.

“Oh, you are an angel, some on in, make yourself home, take whatever you want to eat or drink!” she gestures around before bringing the bag into the kitchen.

The cozy home is already filled with a lot of people you don’t know, but you also spot Charlotte and Mitch right away so you take the safe spot in their little circle. You try your best to stay present in the conversation but you keep glancing around, looking for one particular person.

And then you finally see him. Harry emerges from the little hallway that leads to the bedroom and bathroom with Adam, seemingly deep in conversation as he nurses a beer in his hand. His checkered slacks and vintage printed t-shirt makes him appear so casual, if you didn’t know him you wouldn’t even guess that he is actually a professor.

Harry laughs at something Adam just told him and his eyes glide around the room until they find you standing near the kitchen. He stops in his track, gaze running down your figure before it returns to your eyes and he seems to be in awe, like he doesn’t entirely believe it’s you he is seeing even though he knew you’d be coming. There’s nothing you want more than to run across the room and throw yourself into his arms. You spent way too much time thinking about him during Christmas and seeing him in the flesh now is a mixture of feelings you can’t really describe just now.

Neither of you leaves the conversation you are in the middle, but you keep glancing towards each other. You’re nervously moving the strawberry ring around your finger, feeling his burning gaze on your figure all the time. You haven’t taken it down since he has given it to you, it partially made it harder for you to stop thinking about him, because the jewelry was quite a loud reminder every time you glanced down at your hands.

Two drinks later your sister calls you, as always she wants to say happy new year before the lines get hectic at midnight, so you move out to the small balcony facing the street as you talk to your sister. The spicy night air feels amazing on your heated up skin, the turtleneck dress was a good choice, but it’s definitely getting hotter with each drink, especially with Harry’s lingering eyes as well. When you end the call you decide to stay outside a little longer, take a few moments to yourself.

You jump a little when you hear the sliding door open and you’re surprised to see Harry walk out.

“Hey, thought you might need this,” he smiles softly, holding a blanket in his hands.

“Oh, thank you,” you mumble and let him wrap it around your shoulders. It provides just enough heat that your lips are not shaking anymore from the cold.

“What are you doing out here alone? Not enjoying the evening?”

“I am, I was just on the phone with my sister.”

“She’s older than you, right?” he asks and you tilt your head a little looking at him.

“How do you know that?”

“I, uhh… You have a lot of pictures with her on your Instagram,” he admits with a nervous chuckle.

“Have you been stalking my profile?” you tease him, but he clearly takes it way more serious than you intended it to be.

“No, I swear it’s not like that, I just—“ he stammers but you cut him off placing a hand on his arms that are crossed over his chest.

“Harry, I was just teasing you. It’s fine,” you assure him, giving him a gentle squeeze before you are about to pull your hand back, but his hold stops you. He takes your hand in his, gently bringing it closer to his face as he examines the ring sitting on your finger.

“You’re wearing it,” he breathes out, a small cloud emitting from his pink lips as his thumb softly runs over the ring.

“Of course. I told you I love it.”

You can’t ignore the shiver that runs down your spine at the feeling of his warm palm against yours, his thumb delicately running over not just the ring, but down your finger as well before he lets go of your hand. You already miss his touch.

“So, how was Christmas?” he asks clearing his throat.

“Good, nothing extra. What about yours?”

“Same, went home to the family.”

“Do you often visit them?”

“Not as often as I would want to, but I’m trying to go every couple of months.” Harry turns towards the street, eyes running along the not too busy road that stretches past Sarah’s building. His hand comes up to the railing, fingers slightly drumming on it. “How come you didn’t bring anyone tonight?”

“Well, my roommates are still home and I also didn’t think you’d like the idea to have another student of yours around.”

“Right, yeah,” he nods, but you can tell something else is still on his mind. “So… no boyfriend to bring?”

You give him a puzzled look. Is this his way of asking if you are seeing anyone at the moment? Because if it is, it’s kind of ridiculous.

“No, not really. I guess you can say I’m not looking for one actively.”

“How come?” he asks with raised eyebrows, his body turning towards you as he leans against the railing. You give him a ‘really?’ look. You think about getting a little sassy and teasing with him, but then decide to just be straightforward instead.

“Because I’m kind of into my Methodology of Cultural Anthropology professor.”

Harry’s lips part as his eyes pierce into yours and for a moment you really think that he is about to flip, tell me how dare you say such thing to him and curse you out, but a second passes and his gaze softens as he lets out a shaky breath.

“Y/N…”

“What? I just answered your question,” you innocently shrug, looking away from him. Despite this long and weird game the two of have been playing these past months, this is the first time you openly admitted that you have a thing for him.

“You know how complicated it is and I told you that nothing can happen.” He shakes his head in defeat, a hint of disappointment in his tone, but it just grinds your gears.

“What, so you can ask about my dating life but I can’t say that I’m into you? How is that fair?”

“That’s not the same.”

“Well I think it is. Both are highly inappropriate to bring up in our situation, don’t you think? Yet you’re trying to put all the blame on me.”

“Alright, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Let’s just… forget about it. I really don’t want to fight with you.”

“Because you’re afraid I might actually win?” you sassily reply, crossing your arms on your chest.

“I’m just trying to do the right thing, okay? Would you… let me?”

“If you haven’t realized it yet, I’m trying really hard to stay in my lane, but you’re not making it any easier.”

“I’m trying too, okay?” he growls, clearly losing his calmness at this point. “I’m really fucking trying, Y/N, but it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!”

“You’re the one making it hard!”

“It’s not my fucking fault I can’t stop thinking about you!”

“Well it’s not my fault either!” you snap at him, both of you raising your voice, the rest of the party oblivious about the screaming match the two of you are having on the balcony. “If you’re so set on not letting anything happen, why do you come to me and act the opposite?”

“The opposite?!”

“Yes! It’s not quite appropriate to gift your student with a ring or ask them about their dating life. Or is it all new information to you?”

“You started with the gifting!”

“So what? You could have just left it there, but you didn’t. It’s not that it didn’t make me happy, but don’t try to put all the blame on me for saying something when you’re already crossing the lines.”

Harry stares at you with a hard look and you’d pay great amounts to actually read his thoughts at this moment. His jaw clenches as he exhales sharply, eyes turning away from you, as if he couldn’t even bear to look at you.

“Make up your fucking mind,” you growl under your breath as you push your way past him and walk inside before he could get a word out.

For a well-respected, educated and smart man, Harry can act pretty fucking stupid, you think. He is not being fair and you will not apologize for anything you’ve said. If he doesn’t want anything to do with you, he needs to stay in his lane and not dance on the line, poking the sleeping lion. He doesn’t get to fuck around and then put all the blame on you, that’s just not how it works and he needs to learn that.

In the last hour that’s left until midnight you mingle with the guests and try to keep your thoughts of Harry at bay, though it’s quite the challenge since he lingers around you, keeping his eyes on you all the time, as if he is trying to piss you off or something, but you’re determined to be a mature adult and keep your composure.

You’re getting tired of this game and you’re not sure anymore if you are willing to wait around until Harry makes his mind up. Not when he doesn’t keep his own rules at least.

“Come on,” you mumble to yourself as you’re trying to open up a new bottle of wine, but the screw just wouldn’t move, no matter what you do. A hand reaches forward and wraps around the neck of the bottle, interrupting your pathetic misery.

“Let me help you.”

You let Harry take the bottle, biting into your bottom lip as you turn around and watch him easily open the bottle you’ve been fighting with the past ten minutes, he grabs your empty glass from the counter and fills it.

“Thank you,” you mumble when he hands it back and you take a sip right away. He places the bottle to the counter, fingers strumming on the surface before he takes a deep breath and speaks up.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“For what exactly?”

“For the way I acted. You were totally right, I called you out for things that I did myself too, that was unfair of me.” He clears his throat, leaning against the counter with his back side as he crosses his arms on his chest. It brings out how toned his arms really are and you give yourself half a second to drool over that before you take another sip from your drink, forcing yourself to keep your thoughts under control.

“Thanks for acknowledging it,” you mumble, not sure what to say exactly. The two of you stand like that in silence, eyes roaming the guests, something clearly weighing down on both of you, but it’s hard to name and address it.

You can tell he is overthinking, the gears are almost visible, turning in that smart head of his, but you don’t want him to go into depths he shouldn’t. He really is making a bigger deal out of the situation that it already is, but it’s going to wreck him.

“Okay, I want to know, what was the worst way someone tried to flirt with you?”

Harry turns to you with a puzzled look, but you just sip on your wine, waiting for his answer.

“Um, I don’t… really keep track of it.”

“Oh come on,” you give him a look. “I know you have a story. I wanna hear it!”

Your eyes meet and he is searching in yours, trying to figure out what’s the sudden change in your mood when an hour ago you were ready to throw him off the balcony. Truth is you are just frustrated, because the situation feels so impossible. You never had to deal with such an amazing man, knowing he is into you as well, but you just can’t have him. The struggle is hard for the both of you but you can’t blame him entirely. Hating on him because he is not willing to take a risk that could easily ruin his entire life but at least his academic career is just not fair and you won’t put him through that.

Harry sees where you’re coming from and he shoots you a thankful smile before it turns into a smirk as he looks down at his hands.

“Professor Davids from the department of linguistics asked me to be her date for her ex-husband’s wedding.”

“What?” you gasp with wide eyes. “For real?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “She started swinging by my office all the time, trying to chat me up and then one day she asked if I wanted to go with her, that we would be staying at this nice hotel and all… she really thought it was a good idea.”

“That’s very awkward,” you laugh, entertained by the thought that Professor Davids would go so low when it came to dating. “I assume, you declined the invitation.”

“Faster than ever,” he chuckles making you laugh even louder. “Okay, your turn.”

“What?”

“I told you an awkward story, now it’s your turn.”

“Um, the worst was probably a promposal I got.”

“A promposal?” he asks with a puzzled look, his forehead creasing as he pulls his eyebrows together.

“Yeah, when they ask you out to go to prom.” “Oh, yeah. Didn’t know it had a specific name.”

“Because you are way too British,” you tease him and he just gives you a narrow-eyed look, but you can see the smirk hiding on his lips. “Well, anyway, I was dating a guy senior year, but this other one was convinced he could win me over and take me to prom. He brought a fucking mariachi band to school and gave me a serenade in the middle of the hallway while my boyfriend was standing next to me. He asked me to prom so confidently at the end of the song, like he actually had a shot but it was so painfully awkward,” you laugh at the memory shaking your head and Harry joins, finding it quite entertaining.

“He really did that to himself.”

“He did, I felt bad a little, but what was I supposed to do?”

You slip into telling more and more awkward stories, staying in the kitchen you create a little bubble, the rest of the guests don’t seem to exist as you enjoy yourself with Harry. This is the most carefree and loosest you’ve ever seen him around you and you quite like this version of him. So easy to talk to and even funnier than his usual self.

A little before midnight Sarah runs around with champagne, filling everyone’s glass, getting ready for the countdown. You and Harry join Charlotte, Adam and his wife in the corner of the living room as everyone is slowly getting excited for the last moments of the year.

Looking around you see a lot of couples, holding hands, hugging, clearly planning to snog the moment the clock hits midnight and when you glance at Harry on your right you’re convinced he is thinking about the same thing.

You’re not naïve, you don’t think he is going to kiss you, but you still allow yourself to play with the thought just a little. He is standing so close to you, just the tiniest move and you’d be touching him, skin to skin again, feel him under your—

The thought is abruptly interrupted when you feel his warm palm wrap around your hand, your whole body freezing and for a split second you think it’s just an accident, that his touch will disappear before you could even blink, but it stays there. Harry maneuvers his fingers until they are laced together with yours and he keeps a firm hold of your hand, hanging between the two of you, staying hidden because you’re standing close to each other. Your breath catches in your throat and you’re afraid if you dare to move he’ll let go of your hand.

Another version of yourself would laugh hysterically at how worked up you are right now just because he is holding your hand, but the you that’s actually in the moment is about to burst just by this small touch. You have absolutely no idea what it means or why he chose to do it, but you don’t really care about it. You just want to absorb all the heat you feel coming from him where his palm meets yours, fingers braided together tightly, as if he is trying to keep you next to him, like he thinks you are about to disappear and it’s way of anchoring you to him, but truth is you don’t want to go anywhere.

“One minute, everyone!” Sarah sings in excitement as she turns on the TV and puts a huge clock on the screen that’s counting the seconds as well. You shyly glance to the side, finding Harry standing motionless next to you and when he notices you looking, his eyes meet yours. He looks terrified, like a lost little boy and you can’t tell if he is afraid of your reaction or because of what his actions might bring on him. But you want him to know that you are completely okay with where it’s heading.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!” The countdown begins and you inch closer to Harry so you’re pressed against his side, his body heat radiating into your skin even through the layers of clothes you two are wearing.

Harry leans down the moment you lift your head, his face is so close, it wouldn’t take much for you to finally kiss him, do the one thing you haven’t stopped thinking about for months.

“Y/N…” he breathes out and it’s a tortured plea, he is begging you to stop him from doing something he might regret, but you are dying for him to finally sin. You want him to give it up already, you have absolutely no desire to be the burden that keeps him in his lane. You need him to cross the line and stay there.

“I’m not stopping you, Harry,” you tell him quietly, the urge to close the distance between the two of you is burning inside you.

“Seven! Six! Five!” the countdown continues, but it all tones out, you can only see, hear and feel Harry.

“We can’t,” he whines, closing his eyes as he exhales shakily.

“We can, we just shouldn’t,” you correct him, his eyes snap open and meet yours again. You can tell he is so close to finally giving in and let his feelings and desires take control and you will not try to stop him.

His face inches the tiniest bit closer and his forehead is almost touching yours now, you can see every curly eyelash that frames his gorgeous green eyes that are now filled with fear and nerves.

“Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” Everyone screams together as the clock finally hits midnight while you just stare at Harry holding your breath, praying that he is finally ballsy enough to take this step.

“Harry, please,” you beg, not too proud of it, but you just can’t take it any longer. His hand is gripping yours tightly as he closes his eyes again and for a second you think that it’s gonna happen. He is going to give up the act and finally kiss you.

But right when the moment is burning the most… he pulls back and your heart sinks.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his hand lets go of yours and it feels like your arm is ripped off, tears are welling in your eyes.

“Yeah, me too,” you mumble under your breath, chugging down the champagne before making your way through the living room, determined to leave as soon as possible.

“Y/N, wait, where are you going?” you hear him calling after you, but you don’t stop. You get rid of the empty champagne glass and grab your coat from the rack, storming out of the apartment as if you had somewhere to be.

Tears are streaming down your cheeks as you run down the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. You hear the other pair of feet running behind you and Harry calling after you, but it’s not stopping you.

You push the front door of the building open, but it’s heavy, so it slows you down just enough that Harry can grab your wrist when you are about to start running down the street.

“Y/N, don’t go, let me explain!”

“No!” you snap at him. “I don’t fucking want to hear your explanation! I’m done, Harry! I’m fucking done! I was trying to be patient and respectful, I didn’t want to make it worse for you and let you do your thing, but you kept dancing back and forth and I can’t keep doing this, so I guess I’m sorry too.”

You’re choking on your own words that echo from the walls, the street is almost entirely empty, the world is still celebrating the new year while you’re at your breaking point. Harry stands in front of you, defeated and panic all over his face as he listens to you.

“I will not sit around and let you play your little games any longer, because you can’t make up your mind whether you want me or not.”

“Y/N I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life!” he snaps, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s the problem! This shouldn’t be happening, but I can’t fucking stop thinking about you, I can’t stop wanting you!”

“Then do something about it!” you beg through your tears.

“I can’t!”

“Yes you can!” you scream at him. “You can but you probably just don’t want me enough to actually do it! And it’s fine, but—“

You don’t get to finish your rant because Harry firmly grabs your arm, yanks you towards him and with one swift movement, his lips are crashing against yours.

It all happens so fast but your body reacts before your mind could process what’s really happening, fists bunching a handful of his sweater as you pull him against you, his hands flying up to your face, cupping them confidently as he kisses you hard and demandingly.

It’s like a fucking dam that’s been broken, everything you both kept bottled up and under control just breaks loose and it’s a kind of a wild fight for trying to devour each other now that all lines has been crossed an blurred into nothingness.

He is the dominant one, but you do some pushing and pulling on your own as well. You’re forced to take a few steps backwards, back arching at how forcefully he is pushing forward, lips smacking against each other over and over again, his tongue meeting yours, swirling and dancing around with yours, a shameless moan escaping your mouth.

His hands roam down your sides and you jumps when they reach the back of your thighs, legs wrapping around his waist. He keeps you up easily, fingers digging into your flesh where your butt meets your thighs and this angle allows you to be completely pressed up against him and feel every single inch of his body that burns for you.

It’s beyond anything you’ve ever imagined, you’re not sure it’s because of the build-up that led to this point or simply the chemistry you two got, but it blows your mind, making you question how you could go this long without ever kissing him.

“Harry, I want you,” you moan when his lips move down to your jawline, kissing and biting on the soft skin, tasting you wherever he can reach.

“I want you too, Y/N,” he breathes out resting his forehead against yours before kissing you again.

“Take me home then.”

“Are you sure?” he pants as you run your fingers through his hair and tug on his gently, earning a whimper from his perfectly pink and swollen lips. You love this satisfied dew on his face, especially because you know it’s because of you.

“Never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You unwrap your legs from around his waist and return to the ground, but not without him leaning down to kiss you once more before he grabs your hand and starts pulling you down the street. You spot his Rover right away and start sprinting, Harry following you right behind with a carefree laugh.

Settled in your seats he starts driving, but you can’t keep yourself away from him. His hand that’s not on the steering wheel is gripping your thigh as you lean over the console and start kissing his cheek, jawline and the corner of his mouth as one of your hands runs down his chest until it reaches his pants.

“Love, if you move further down we’re gonna crash,” he warns you with a shaky breath. “I drank a little too and I’m already fucking gone from kissing you, if you touch me I’m gonna lose it.”

You giggle, pressing one last kiss to his lips before sitting back in your seat. You need every bit of your patience and self-control to stay modest on the way back to his place. Hands gripping his you bring it up to your lips, kissing his knuckles gently as he speeds down the empty streets. It’s still barely over midnight, everyone is still celebrating, oblivious to how important this moment is to the two of you.

You really thought this would be the end. When he pulled away at midnight all hope was lost for you and it broke your heart to know that he will never choose you over his better judgment.

It’s your first time at Harry’s but you don’t really care to look around as the two of you make your way inside the townhouse, lips already melted together as you stumble through the dark hallway, not wanting to let go of each other. You successfully make it into his bedroom and Harry turns on the bedside lamp while you’re already eagerly getting rid of your coat and shoes. He does the same, clothes start to litter the hardwood flooring hastily, but neither of you is thinking about them. Harry scoops you into his arms once again, kissing your lips passionately as he bunches your dress up at your hips until he can finally grip the end of it and pull it over your head.

“Oh shit!” you giggle, the turtleneck getting stuck on your head for a moment before you’re free from it.

“That big head of yours,” he chuckles kissing your forehead.

“Shut up,” you smack his chest gently, pushing him down to the bed so you can straddle him, knees on his sides as you sit on his lap, lips meeting again.

He throws his hands up when you start pulling his t-shirt up and once the fabric is off of his body, his arms wrap around you, pulling you close to his chest. Your skin meets his and it feels heavenly, only little clothing separating the two of you at this point.

Harry scoots backwards and then throws you to the mattress, getting on top of you without your lips ever parting. His hips are pushed against yours and you can feel everything through the thin material of his slacks. Without even knowing you grind your hips, your core meeting his erection in the movement and he moans uncontrollably at the sensation.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes against your lips and you can’t push your smirk down at his reaction.

“Yeah, fuck me, Harry,” you tease him before your lips get occupied once again.

His hands work fast. He unclasps your bra without you even noticing, the straps falling from your shoulders before he gets rid of it, throwing it across the room as if it did something against him. When his hungry eyes fall down on your naked chest you see the same kind of torture in his eyes that was there when he was fighting with himself before.

“Harry, stop thinking,” you tell him, fingers massaging his scalp as you lace them through his hair. “It’s fine, we’re fine.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he questions again and you pull him down for a reassuring kiss.

“One hundred percent. I want this. I want you.”

“Oh God, I want you so bad,” he whines again, lips kissing down your jawline, neck and collarbone before they attack your breasts.

He cups them, licks and bites them, making you a whimpering mess underneath him every time his tongue meets your hot skin. This man will be the death of you. As he moves down your body, his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties and he glances up at your for reassurance once again, you nod eagerly, lifting your hips so he can easily glide the fabric down and off of your body. Harry sits up, eyes burning down on your naked body lying in front of him as he undoes his own pants, pushing them down his long legs until they join the rest on the floor. You push yourself up when his hands move to his boxers, you want to be the one to take them off. He gladly backs his hands off when you reach out and start tugging them down. He kneels on the bed as you pull the fabric down and his erection finally becomes free, making you ache for him immediately. Once the boxers are out of the way completely you want to reach out to touch him, but he stops you, hands wrapping around your wrist before they could reach him.

Your eyes snap up to meet his darkened gaze, questioning why he stopped you.

“Y/N, I… If we do this, there’s no going back,” he breathes out with a pained look. You push yourself up to your knees so you meet his height, hands cupping his cheeks as you pull him into a sweet kiss that he hesitantly but returns.

“I know what you think about us, Harry, but I assure you, that I’m completely fine with it. But if you don’t want it to happen, we can just… lie here. I’m fine with that too. Kissing you was already such a gift for me,” you smile at him, gently pecking his lips.

“I just don’t want you to wake up and regret it. I’m not pushing you, right?”

“If anyone, it’s me pushing you,” you chuckle softly, a small smile tugging on his lips as well. “You didn’t push anything on me, alright? We are both adults and it’s completely fine. We’ll figure out the rest, I just want to focus on you now. Can I do that?”

Harry nods, still looking a little unsure, but you can tell he is starting to settle in his mindset. It’s not just him that worries about the other regretting something. You know how torn up he is about anything that’s about you and though you want him more than anything, you still don’t want to push him into doing something he is not entirely comfortable with.

“Do you want this?” you softly ask, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I do. I’m just—“

“Then it’s all good, Harry. We both want it, nothing else matters for now,” you tell him, wanting nothing else than to finally see him enjoy himself entirely. “Lay down for me,” you tell him, feeling like you taking the lead is a good idea now.

He does as you asked him to, lying down on the mattress, head sinking into his pillow as he blinks up at you, watching you swing a leg over him before settling to sit on his thighs.

“Can I touch you?” you ask, wanting to make sure he feels completely comfortable with you. Pleasing him is your number one priority right now. He nods, lips parting as he watches your hand reach out and wrap around the base of his erected length. He whimpers under your touch, his eyes fall closed when you gently pump him a few times, his cock fits so well in your palms, like pieces of a puzzle.

Leaning down you kiss his fern tattoos on each sides of his hips before placing one to his leaking tip, sliding your hands to the base before you slowly and gradually take him into your mouth.

You’re not planning to make him cum with your mouth, but you’ve been dying to taste him and it’s just as good as you imagined. The way his body reacts to your touch, the noises that leave his kissable lips, this man is completely out of this world and you want to explore every inch of his body.

You bob your head a couple of times, just enough to wet his length and work him up for what’s coming next. When you let him go of your mouth and you move a little up on his body so that his cock can be lined up with your hole, you look at him to see if he is still down to continue. One hand holding his cock, the other one flat on his naked chest, you ask him a question with your eyes that he answers with his hands squeezing your hips.

“I have the implant. Do you want to put on a condom?” you ask him at last.

“I trust you,” he breathes out. “Do you want me to put one on?”

“I want to feel you,” you tell him shaking your head.

“Okay,” he nods so it’s settled.

Leaning down you peck his lips one last time before you push the head inside and then slowly ease yourself down on his throbbing length.

“Oh fuck!”

“Harry, oh my God!” you both moan at the sensation of him finally entering you. You’ve had your fair share of sexual intercourses throughout your life, but none of them felt this good. None of them pleasured you this good so fast and easily, just the feel of him being inside you is making you lose your mind.  

You start off slow, wanting to feel him just right, get used to his size, but as soon as you feel more comfortable, you pick up a faster pace. His fingers are digging into your flesh at your hips as he holds onto you for dear life, panting and moaning at your motions. He glides in and out of you perfectly, setting your senses on fire practically.

“Harry, you feel so good,” you gasp, getting lost in the feeling. Sex has always been a good experience for you, but with Harry it’s a whole different story. As if he just opened a completely new world you never even knew about before.

“Yeah? You’re gonna cum for me?”

“Yes! Oh fuck!”

Harry pushes himself up, an arm coming around your back as he easily flips the two of you over, your back gently hitting the soft mattress. He holds himself up above you, lips crashing with yours as he starts to do the work this time, thrusting in and out of you, his hips smacking against yours forcefully as you both nearing the end.

“You’re making me lose my fucking mind, Y/N,” he cries out, head falling to the crook of your neck and you wrap your arms around him as a shield, holding him tight against you.

It doesn’t take long after that. He is hitting just the right spots, making you moan his name over and over again as your orgasm slowly devours you and washes over your whole body while he is still relentlessly moving.

“Harry! Oh… Fuck!” you gasp, legs and hands shaking and you clench your muscles around him, throwing him over the edge with you. He falls out of his rhythm, his cock twitching inside you as he moans against the hot skin of your neck, coming undone in your arms.

Nothing has ever felt this intense and mind-blowing and you’re now sure you’re addicted to him, there’s no turning back, not that you want that.

He collapses on top of you, still inside you, his body weighing down on you heavily, but it feels just fine. You run your arms up and down his sides, kissing the side of his head as you are both trying to catch your breath. It takes a few minutes for him to come back to reality with you, he lifts his head and moves to the side so he is not crushing you anymore, but an arm remains thrown over your abdomen. His vibrant green eyes are shining like never before when they meet your tired gaze and cupping his face in your palm you pull him in for a slow kiss where you finally have the time to actually taste him without the rushing of your own needs and urges.

“How are you feeling?” you softly asking, knowing well how major this was for him. You wouldn’t want him to spiral and start to self-destruct because of what just happened.

“I’m feeling fine,” he murmurs lowly, his fingers dancing on your naked side. “Just still a little torn if I did the right thing.”

“You worry too much. We did nothing wrong.”

“Not sure everyone would agree with that.”

“Fuck everyone else,” you chuckle and a smile tugs on his lips as well. “I will not feel bad for having the best sex of my life with a hot as fuck man I’m really into,” you bluntly tell him, earning a smug grin.

“Best sex of your life, huh?”

“Not even ashamed to admit,” you nod into the pillow. “How… was it for you?” you shyly ask, afraid his answer might disappoint you. But Harry pulls you closer until you’re pressed up against his chest, his lips capture yours, kissing you fiercely, making your heart skip a few beats for sure.

“Fucking amazing, baby. Probably the best I ever had too,” he admits, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you nuzzle against his chest once he has rolled to his back.

Silence comes over the two of you, you’re listening to his steady heartbeat, mindlessly drawing patterns over his chest. Lifting your head your eyes meet his and you can tell he has been thinking hard about what this all means for the future now.

“I’m in,” you simply tell him.

“Huh?”

“If you are thinking that I might not want to do this with you, that I just wanted a good fuck, that’s not what I think of this. If you want to give us a chance, I’m totally in.”

“You think we can make it work?” he quietly asks, his voice barely more than just a whisper.

“Of course,” you smile at him warmly. “You don’t?”

“I do, I’m just… there are so many things that can go wrong.”

“Then… we’ll make them right.”

Harry breathes out through his nose, clearly having a hard time to take it as easy as you do and you wish you could magically make all his doubts go away.

Sitting up you put your hands on each of his sides, looking down at him determined to bring out his confidence in the two of you.

“We just have to be patient and careful until I finish. Then we are basically free. That’s just one more semester. It could be way worse, we can make it work for a couple of months before we can finally do whatever we want. That doesn’t sound that bad, does it?” Harry shakes his head, reaching up he tugs your hair behind your ear before running his fingers down the side of your face.

“So we are really doing this?” he breathes out, a small smile on his sweet, pink lips.

“Well, I’m surely not giving up on this, we came a long way to be here,” you chuckle. “Question is, are you gonna give up on us? On… me?”

“Hell no,” he chuckles softly as he shakes his head. You smile down at him and leaning down you peck his lips tenderly.

“Then… we really are doing this.”

SEQUEL: 🌊 AN OCEAN AWAY 🌊

-

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[bruhstories]

Sticky, Saccharine & Sinful

Summary: Professor Jaeger asks his assistant to come over and grade some papers. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (modern AU) Warnings & Content: language, protected sex, fingering, oral sex (female & male receiving), spanking, daddy kink, bossy Zeke, bratty Reader, tying up, bit of an age gap but no underage shit (we don’t do that here) Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: Huehuehue guess who finally wrote a daddy kink smut? Also I have looped Cherry Cola by Kuwada the entire time i wrote, proofread and formatted this bitch, I think it works with the atmosphere

"Y/N, I'm gonna need you to help me grade some papers later today." Professor Jaeger pushed his glasses with his index finger as he looked up from his book.

"You got it, boss!" You nodded as you entered the staff lounge room at Stohess Uni, two cups in your hands.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Zeke?" The man sighed. “Or at least call me professor.”

"But I'm your assistant, you're my superior, that makes you my boss, boss." Sarcasm dripping down your tongue as you placed his coffee down the table. "All black, two cubes of sugar."

"Thank you. And yes, technically I am your boss, but you're, what, six years younger than me?"

"Seven and a half." You pouted.

You've been working at Stohess University for a little over a year now as Zeke Jaeger's assistant. He was the best philosophy teacher, as well as head of the department, and you nailed your internship interview, aspiring to be like him one day. He even taught you Ethics during your masters, and currently you were doing your PhD research under his coordination. The man was a genius in his field, and you didn't dare disappoint him, but your personalities always clashed. He was calm and collected, you were bubbly and all over the place. He was nice and polite, you were sarcastic and rude. Zeke knew you'd make a horrible teacher for children, but undergraduate students would adore you.

"How can you drink hot coffee in this heat wave?" You asked him as you fanned someone's epistemology essay to cool yourself off.

"It's actually been proven that warm drinks hydrate better than cold ones during summertime." He inhaled the scent of freshly brewed coffee before taking the essay out of your hand.

"Whatever you say, boss." You shrugged and gulped on your iced tea, a few glistening amber drops dripping from the corners of your mouth, down your chin and your neck. "Ah, shit." You wiped the tea with the back of your hand, not catching Zeke watching you curiously. "Why did the AC have to break down today of all days?"

"Dunno." He shrugged and immersed himself back into his book. "Oh, I hope you don't mind coming to my place to grade the papers? I don't think you'll be able to focus in this heat. Besides, I want to take a look at your latest PhD chapter." Jaeger told you absentmindedly, eyes glued to the pages in front of him.

"Sure thing–"

"Don't say it."

"Boss."

"Jesus Christ..."

You adored pissing your ex-professor off, but deep down, Zeke couldn't deny the fact that he loved the authority he had over you. You were a very alluring woman, after all, and any sane man would kill to be as close to you as he was, let alone boss you around like he did. And he had the strong feeling you acted like a brat around him on purpose. You took your leave after downing the rest of your beverage, going to the library to borrow some books for your own research.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

You rang the intercom and waited for Zeke to let you inside the building, dragging your feet down the hallway, tired from carrying so much shit with you – laptop, books, essays, papers, pens and highlighters – you were a walking, talking stationery shop and one could only wonder how someone with such a petite frame was so strong. Zeke waited in the doorway and took some of your things, relieving the weight as you sighed.

"Coffee?" He guided you to his kitchen.

"Water, please." You plopped on a chair and unbuttoned the first three heart-shaped buttons of your lilac shirt, tiny beads of sweat bundled up at your collarbone.

"You sure? I'll be keeping you up all night." Jaeger laughed. He was obviously talking about the papers, but to you, the sentence had a different innuendo — not that you minded, you had your fair share of sinful fantasies with the older man. Come to think of it, you were wondering why he was single. Zeke was undoubtedly an attractive man, he could have any woman he wanted. Yet you’ve never seen him on a date, never seen a picture of a woman when you accidentally glanced at his phone, never heard him talk about a significant other.

"Hey, mind if I smoke?" You asked, noticing the ashtray on his table.

"Not at all, I'll join you." He sat opposite you, mug of coffee in his hand. You pulled out a pack of pink cigarettes from your backpack and placed one between your lips, pocketing your jeans for a lighter. His hand extended over the table, lighter in his hand, and you slightly bent your head forward, eyes glued to his. You inhaled the smoke, not breaking eye contact, and exhaled with a sigh. Something about Zeke lighting up your cigarette made your little cunt tingle.

"Thanks, boss." The corners of your lips turned into a barely visible smirk. You really, really liked to tick him off.

"Don't mention it." He told you before lighting his own cigarette. What, no comeback? No objection? "How's your paper going?"

"It's... going." You shrugged.

"You haven't written anything in your last chapter, have you?"

"No, I have," you half-whined, "it's just that I can't find my words. I think I encountered writer's block."

"'S alright, we'll figure something out." Zeke pulled a stack of papers from his briefcase and dropped it on the table.

"Wow, no shit you need help, that's a lot of papers." You twirled the cigarette between your fingers before taking one final puff and crushing it in the glass ashtray.

"Told you." He picked his resting cigarette back from the ashtray. "You can do the first years."

"I'd rather do something else." You whispered to yourself, eyes almost rolling at the back of your head.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, boss. First years, got it." Your manicured fingers pulled the stack of papers closer to you. The exams were already annotated according to subject and year and you took everything you needed before shoving them back to Zeke.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

You were bored out of your mind, fiddling with the red pen in your hand and tapping your fingers on the table with no particular rhythm. It was already dark outside and you barely finished a quarter of your stack while Zeke was halfway through his.

"Could you please stop that?" He asked you without even bothering to look at you.

"Why?"

"It's annoying."

With a groan you rolled your eyes and stopped tapping your fingers, instead opting to fidget your leg, bouncing it up and down under the table. The wooden furniture shook at the movement and Zeke sighed, putting the pen down.

"I understand you're bored, but if you want to be a professor, this is part of the job description."

"I know, I know, but, like, can we take a break? Please? We've been at it for two and a half hours now and I'm just so bored." You looked at him with puppy eyes and a pout on your plump lips.

"Ugh, fine. What do you want to do?"

"I dunno. Got any board games?"

"Only a pack of playing cards." Zeke shrugged.

"Perfect! Literally anything is better than this. I mean look at what this kid wrote: the ship of Theseus ARE a thought experiment. Can you believe it? How can a nineteen-year-old not know proper grammar?"

"Careful, Y/N," he chuckled, "you made a pretty embarrassing error during your masters, too."

"Nooo, don't bring that up!" You got up and walked to the freezer, scanning the contents.

"Why not? It's funny."

"Yeah, for you." You rolled your eyes. "But I still proved my worth." You triumphantly told him, tongue playfully poking out of your mouth from behind the freezer door. Ugh, you were so cute, made to be ravaged. Your eyes settled on the single raspberry popsicle and you picked it up, closing back the door. "Can I have this?" Oh, he knew exactly what you were doing.

"Of course."

With Zeke's approval, you unwrapped the plastic, revealing the rose-tinted dessert, swirling your tongue around its tip. You were a sight for sore eyes, (not so) innocently licking at the popsicle, your gaze on him and his growing bulge. He didn't even bother hiding it, instead relaxing in the chair and drinking you in. It was no mistake that Zeke invited you over, and you weren't stupid enough to believe it was a mistake.

"Do you... want some?" You trailed off as the once cold dessert began melting from your hot lips.

"If you'd be so kind." He patted his lap and you accepted the invitation. His bulge was comfortably uncomfortable against your ass, and you put the popsicle onto his lips, one arm draped around his shoulder. Zeke's tongue moved languidly around the sweet snack and you leaned in, your own tongue licking both the dessert and his lips. It was sticky and saccharine and sinful, and your poor pussy couldn't take it anymore.

"Do you wanna fuck me, daddy?" You naively asked him. He wasn't surprised in the slightest by the name, already suspecting you had daddy issues, in fact counting on it.

"I very much do." His hands were already roaming your body. The popsicle was almost gone, and you deepthroated the last bit, taking the little stick out of your mouth with a pop. Finally, he crushed his lips onto yours and you could tell he had experience. You dropped the stick on the tiled floor, twisting your body to better straddle him. Zeke unbuttoned your shirt as you slowly began grinding your hips against his bulge, earning a groan from him. "Ugh, you bad girl." He threw his head back as you loosened the tie around his neck.

"Are you going to punish me?" You slowly, too slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

"What’s the point of a punishment if you’re going to enjoy it?" He mused, unclasping your bra. You had goosebumps all over your skin and Zeke took one of your nipples in his hot mouth, a hand pinching your other one. You whimpered at the slight stinging sensation

"Does it m-matter if I enjoy it?" His touch became rougher, almost animalistic.

"Of course," he stopped sucking your swollen, oversensitive nipple, "otherwise you won't learn your lesson." You got up and turned around, your back against him, taking your jeans and underwear off, bending down and exposing your cunt to him. "You're going to be the death of me, Y/N." Zeke shook his head, removing his own trousers.

"Allow me." You tucked your fingers behind the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down as you kneeled in front of him. His throbbing cock tapped your face after finally being unleashed from its textile cage.

"I suspected you were big, but this? This is too good." You sneered at his member, mesmerised by its size.

"Just shut up and suck it." Zeke pretty much commanded you and you wet your lips, pressing your tongue against the velvety tip. You worked your way around his shaft, enjoying this more than you should've. You pulled back, a string of saliva and precum attached to your lips as you looked up at him.

"Am I doing good, daddy?"

"So good." He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pushed your head back. You eagerly sucked and slurped until he got bored of your mouth around his cock. Zeke pulled you up, spun you around and bent you over the table. He brought your wrists together and tied them up behind your back with his tie before taking a step back and admiring the view. Ass up, face down, just like he loved it. His foot pushed yours to the side, spreading your legs for him before he gave you a good slap over your ass cheeks. You shot up with a moan but his hand forced you back down against the table.

"I think I know exactly how to punish you." Zeke announced, two fingers spreading your folds as his tongue dove inside of you, lapping at your wet cunt.

"Oh, God!" You groaned in pleasure. No man has ever eaten you out like he did. Most guys did it as a chore. Zeke? He was enjoying every single bit of it, passionately fingering you, his tongue moving in ways you didn't think were possible. "Ah, fuck– so good! Daddy, please! I'm coming!"

The way he venomously laughed told you that no, you were not going to come any time soon. Just as you were about to let loose, Zeke stopped, removing his fingers, another slap on your ass. Tears pooled at your Y/E/C eyes, frustration written all over your face. "No, no, no!"

"I told you, Y/N, you're a bad, bad girl." He bent over and whispered in your ear, his cock pressing against your entrance, his hand in your hair.

"Oh, pleaseee, I need to come! Will you let me come?"

"Hm, it depends." Jaeger straightened his back, hands resting on your hips. "Did you learn your lesson?"

"Yes, yes, daddy, I did! I promise I'll be good!" You tried to turn around to look at him, oblivious to what he was doing behind your back, cheeks crimson, droplets of sweat on your forehead.

"Convincing enough." He shrugged and you heard the condom snap against his cock.  Unexpectedly and without any warning, the man thrusted into your wet cunt and you, again, shot up, but he pinned you back. "Stay fucking put, you little whore." Zeke demanded and you tried, you really tried, but your body had a mind of its own. "I see you refuse to learn."

"No, no, please!" You slammed your face onto the table, squishing your cheek in the process, desperate and helpless.

"That's better." He concluded, sarcasm dripping down his tongue as he rammed his cock deeper into you. The silken walls clenched around his hard member, and he grunted, no other woman pleasing him like your tight pussy did. "You like it when I take you from behind, you filthy slut?"

"Yes– oh my God, YES!" You bucked your hips against his for more pressure and pain.

"What would my students think if they saw you getting fucked like this on their papers?"

"Ah– I don't c-care!"

"What would the headmaster say if she knew you fuck your superior and- ugh- coordinator?" Jaeger thrusted harder and faster.

"Please, Zeke-"

His hand found its way to your neck, tightly squeezing it.

"Wrong name, Y/N."

"Shit, daddy!"

"That's right, I'm your fucking daddy and hell will freeze before someone else fucking touches you!"

"Fuc-k, fuuuck!" You both howled and panted as you climaxed, your entire bodies quivering. Zeke pulled out of you, carefully removing the rubber from his cock and giving you another slap on your perky ass cheeks. You stood up, arms still tied around your back, turned on your heels and pecked him on his cheek, giggling like a schoolgirl, marvelled by the fact that he chose you over anyone else.

"You know what, Y/N? Now that I've found you, I'm never going to let you go." He promised.

"I'm all yours, boss."

[drawlfoy]

detention retention finale p.1

masterlist (read parts 1-2 here!) request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no this series is from my original idea however i did take inspo from quite a few people (credited at the bottom of this)

summary: gryffindor y/n is put to the test when she tries to use her detentions with draco malfoy to get close enough for him to share his secret. unfortunately, things are never as simple as they seem. (set in 6th year)

warnings (plz pay attention to these this time): blood, violence, mild gore, mentions of wanting to throw up, you’re just kinda not having a great time during this chapter. also, kinda dark!harry trope here. it is a little ooc, i know, but it was what worked and so i ran with it. also, i play around with the timeline of events that occur in hbp so just expect that 

a/n: the long awaited p1 of the finale is here! the second half is almost entirely written save for a few scenes, and i expect to get that out in the next few days (so much less than a week). i really appreciate you all being patient--i wrote and rewrote the potion scene about 3-4 times because it just wasn’t the vibes that i wanted, but i’m semi happy with how it turned out and at this point i’m just gonna go crazy if i keep trying to restructure it so here we go. all the loose ends will b tied up in the last part and y/n is finally gonna catch a break ;) so as always lmk what you think!

word count: 8.7k

here’s a spotify playlist inspired by this fic!

tags: @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @yiamalfoy @crystalox @dracoismybabey @dreamcxtcherr @decaffeinated-turtle @marrymetheonott @felicityofbakerstreet @daedreamss 

enjoy >:)

Snape’s stores were much more difficult to crack than she’d expected. She’d managed to steal one ingredient from there once, but back then all she had to do was disengage the multiple jinxes that guarded the door. Since, unfortunately, her slimy old Potions professor appeared to have felt a compulsion to fluff his nest and redecorate. A new painting was hung on the door--one of a large raven with beady, intelligent eyes that followed her as she walked past as inconspicuous as she could, no doubt preparing to fly off into the painting’s grey sky to alert his master. Her father had something similar to this in front of his Gringotts vault. She resolved to speak with him over the break to try and find a way in. 

Not like she’d had any chance to execute her plan, anyways. It had been two weeks since Y/N had so much as had a simple interaction with Draco. Every time she tried to talk to him, he turned his attention away from her, offering her a disinterested sniff in response or just outright pretending like he didn’t notice her. Pansy Parkinson seemed to take joy in this development, though she was hardly getting anything on her end save for a few dry looking conversations as Draco’s body angled away from her. 

Without the “distraction” of friendship and genuine human connection, Y/N had plenty of time to emotionally free-fall into an internal moral crisis. She supposed that Draco wasn’t expecting her to keep up her end of the deal now, just as her Gryffindor friends had given up on trying to make her useful. Physically, nothing was stopping her from walking right up to McGonagall during one of her detentions and telling her that Draco Malfoy was making an attempt on the headmaster’s life. But was it really worth it? Every time the thought crossed her mind, all she could think about was the way Draco looked when he talked about his mother, the way a shiny film glazed over his eyes and his eyebrows knit together. 

She’d made a promise. Too much was at stake. While she had failed her friends, she was at least not going to fail Draco...not when the rest of the world had betrayed him. 

Y/N was slowly sifting through thoughts like those when Katie Bell stepped foot into the Great Hall for the first time in a month. Her legs, slightly wobbly from being on bedrest for the better half of November, carried her down the aisle towards the trio of Y/N’s now ex-friends. Her soliloquy was interrupted by the familiar sound of Harry’s voice as he spoke, hushed and rather quickly, to Katie, his hands animated and his frame bent slightly lower so he could speak quietly. It didn’t take much imagination to discern what the topic of their discussion was as their eyes flickered over to the Slytherin table. She managed to hear a few snippets as the wind from the owls blew in and carried it towards her: 

“Malfoy--”

“Was it?”

“...remember?”

Katie, lips pressed into a thin line, shook her head. Harry bit his own lip and swung around to look at a blond figure further down the aisle. Draco. He was staring at the meeting, his body entirely frozen while he took it in. 

Oh, Draco.

Before either party could say anything, he was already turned around and speeding off outside of the hall. She swallowed; Harry and the rest of her Gryffindor peers were conversing and not casting a single look her way. Taking a deep breath, she got up from her seat, leaving her half eaten toast behind.

It didn’t take long to locate Draco--Myrtle’s bathroom was hardly a minute’s walk away from the Great Hall. He was in the same position she saw him there last, his head hanging over the sink basin while his body heaved.

“Draco,” she called out.

He snapped around, his eyes wild and his hair slightly wet at the tips. It occurred to her that he’d splashed his face with water. “Come around again for a formal Katie Bell confession?”

“No!” she exclaimed. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t get herself past the doorway. Not when his wand was raised at her like that. “I wouldn’t do that. I would never do that.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” he snarled. “Do you really expect me to believe anything you say?”

“Please,” said Y/N. “Please let me explain.” Despite the sting of his words, she couldn’t help but feel some degree of relief when she realized that he was finally speaking to her again, finally acknowledging her again. 

He let out a huff of disbelief. “This isn’t about you. Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter whether or not you explain. You lied to me. You put my family in danger, me in danger. And for what? A date with Potter?”

“What?” All the air left her lungs as she stared at him. “It was never like that!” 

“Save it.” His tone, a bitter blend of vileness and defeat, echoed off the stone of the bathroom floor. Y/N was overwhelmed with the urge to run up to him and just beg him to forgive her, but the fire in his eyes and the angry twist of his mouth told her that that wasn’t an option. Instead, she slowly crept towards him. His eyes blazed as she neared him holding her hands up. “Please, Draco. I’m begging you.” 

His composure slipped, his wand shaking slightly in the air while he caught his bottom lip on his teeth and stared at her with a look she couldn’t quite place. She was just about to ask him about it when a pair of footsteps stopped right outside the bathroom.

“I know what you did, Malfoy!” Harry appeared, brandishing his wand and pointing it at him with conviction. “You hexed her, didn’t you? Katie?”

Draco sucked in a wheezy breath, struggling to stand up entirely straight as he held his wand at the ready. 

“You’re not even gonna deny it?”

“Let me guess, Y/L/N couldn’t get a confession out of me so you’re here to pick up the slack?” Draco finally snarled. “How cute.” 

“Shut up!” roared Harry. She’d never seen him look so furious before. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I think I do,” he said menacingly, the usual cool confidence she associated with him slowly reappearing in his demeanor as he twirled his wand around his fingers. Y/N finally let out the breath she was holding as Harry zeroed his focus on her. 

��And just what are you doing here?” he hissed. “Hermione was right, huh? You were with him the entire time. I can’t believe I expected anything different from you.”

Despite the fighting nature of the words coming from one of her best friends, she couldn’t help but glance at Draco as confusion briefly rippled through his features. 

He didn’t know. He didn’t know that she was being shunned by her friends for not telling them anything.

“I was just checking on him!” she wailed.

Visibly unsatisfied with the answer, Harry just scoffed and aimed his wand at Draco. “You’re going to confess what you did or I’m going to make you regret it.”

Harry wasted no time with firing off the first spell--a weakly cast Stupefy that hardly missed her head as Draco’s Protego ricocheted it in her direction. She yelped as she dodged it, smacking into the side of the stall door and falling on the ground unceremoniously hard. Frantically, she dug through the pockets of her cloak to locate her wand, but she was too late. A flash of light was headed her way.

Instead of it smacking into her chest with the force of a curse, the green light spread around her, creating a shield-like sphere. She met Draco’s eye’s briefly in shock. 

He’d cast a protection spell on her. In the middle of a duel that she was hardly formally a part of, he cast a protection spell on her.

“Diffindo!” The puddles from the eternal broken faucet glowed red as Harry parried Draco’s attack. It again went flying in her direction, breaking through the shell of the Fion Duris charm. In a stroke of luck, she rolled out of the way. A light blue flash followed from Draco--a nonverbal.

Finally. Y/N managed to close her hands around her wand, mind racing with thoughts of who she’d disarm first. Her wand had just begun to point towards Harry as the aftershocks of a Levicorpus charm slammed her to the ground once again, her wand bouncing on the cobbled stone once before rolling under the stall door. Y/N swore. “Harry, stop it!”

Harry was clearly losing composure. Despite his magical talent, the speed at which he was rattling off curses compromised his control...and his aim. Draco sent a few Fion Duris and Protego Maxima charms her way, but it still didn’t help when Harry had completely lost it. 

Things turned for the worst when his Tergeo actually sliced Y/N--just barely, but enough to draw a significant amount of blood in her wand arm. Even if she wanted to try and find her wand behind the toilets, she wasn’t even sure if she had the strength to fire off anything.

Her cry of pain prompted Draco to immediately turn his attention from Harry, angling his body towards her instead, an indistinguishable expression etched into his face as he took in the bloodstained white sleeve of her arm. 

Under normal circumstances, Y/N would’ve swooned at the fact that he willingly forfeited the duel just to check on her. But these weren’t normal circumstances, and Harry’s rage-filled expression and clenched jaw reminded her of this as he reeled his arm back and shouted out, “SECTUMSEMPRA!”

She didn’t think about it. To her credit, there really was no time to think. The cracking crimson light flashing towards Draco’s distracted figure was enough for her to launch herself at him with the intent of knocking them both to the ground--but she was too late, far too late. Glowing red light encased her entire body for a few tense milliseconds before she crumpled to the ground.

The Sectumsempra curse felt like every single nerve ending in her chest was being massaged with a sharp knife. Hot, sticky blood filled her mouth as she blinked, glassy-eyed and dazed, up at the ceiling. Distantly she could hear familiar voices over her body. There was a wet warmth that bloomed on her chest. She managed to glance down at her midsection to see an array of deep, short slashes scattered across her torso. 

“Am I okay?” Her voice sounded tinny and funny to her. A pair of light gray eyes came into her vision as she managed another breath. “Draco? Is that you?”

If he leaned closer, she couldn’t tell. His face was beginning to swim in her vision, blending in with the glass ceiling. Finally, a familiar voice, albeit strained and cracking: “You’re okay.”

She felt something shaky brush past her cheek and the coolness of metal rings dance over her skin.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. You’re going to be okay.” He sounded so far away for someone who was leaning right over her. She could see out of the corner of her eye a figure, cloaked in dark robes, raise its wand and recite an unfamiliar incantation. The metallic taste in her mouth began to subside as she felt the warm stickiness of her own blood seep back into her skin. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, not entirely sure what she was apologizing for but doing it anyway. She thought she could feel the warmth of someone’s fingers softly cupping her face, but it could’ve been the heat of the tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. In that moment, she was overwhelmed with the desire to just be held, to not be lonely. “Please don’t go,” she begged. 

The last thing she heard was a tense, “...Okay.” Then everything went black.

~

Y/N spent the majority of her break obsessing over the last memory she had of Draco--the startled way in which he gazed down at her as she bled out in Myrtle’s bathroom and felt his soft hands brush the hair away from her face. It was almost as if there had never been a problem between the two of them, like he’d forgiven her at that moment, but she knew that wasn’t true. Their last Potions class together had made that very clear. While he, thank Merlin, wasn’t letting Pansy hang off him like he did in 4th year, he still pointedly ignored her even though she had to nearly hobble into class. So why had he looked so worried if he didn’t care? And why, whilst surfing the high of a cocktail of pain potions, did she feel like she remembered someone with light blond hair at her side in the hospital wing?

“And you’re sure your bandages are comfortable?” Her mother interrupted her train of thought,, the plate of ethically-sourced willowbird lying completely untouched in front of her. 

“Yes, Mum,” groaned Y/N for what had to be the hundredth time of her Christmas break. “I told you. Professor Snape and Madame Pomfrey made me their top priority over the last week of school. They say that I won’t even need them come January.”

Mrs. Y/L/N hummed as she delicately picked through her salad. 

“I can’t believe that Potter boy’s nerve,” said Mr. Y/L/N from the foot of the table. “Hexing his own friend like that?”

“Dad, he didn’t even know what it did!”

“Exactly! What kind of person does that?”

“He’s just stressed,” Y/N mused, though she was personally a tad miffed at the fact that she’d been brutalized by someone she once considered her best friend. “And he was a little angry at me. He thinks I’m in cahoots with Death Eaters.”

“Ridiculous.” Mrs. Y/L/N vigorously shook her head. “Anyways, dear, no relation to the previous topic: I ran into Minerva at Wurgie’s the other day while I was shopping for gifts. She told me something very peculiar. Is it true you’ve become friends with the Malfoy boy?”

Y/N paled. Dealing with the backlash of Hermione, Harry, and Ron had been bad enough, but her own parents? Over the winter holidays? “Draco?” 

“Yes, unless the Malfoys have another son I’m not aware of.”

“Well…” Y/N searched her mother’s face for any sign of animosity but found nothing but genuine curiosity. “Yes. We both had det--I mean, we were partnered for a class project together in Potions. He seems to have grown up a little.”

Oblivious to the slip up, her mother nodded. “Interesting. I was actually quite close with Narcissa myself back in the day. The Malfoys certainly don’t have a great track record of picking the right side, but we were two quaffles in a case throughout our schooling.”

“You knew Mrs. Malfoy?” asked Y/N, her eyes wide. “I had no idea!”

“Of course, we disagreed on the pureblood values and traditions that should be followed with children,” continued Mrs. Y/L/N, “But despite that, she was always kind. I hope she’s faring well.”

Y/N gulped as an idea slowly began to form in her mind. “Er, Mum, actually...Draco told me some things about...well, his mother.”

Both of her parents perked up. 

“So you know how you guys always talk about how the Order owes you a favor for the time you went undercover in the first Wizarding War?” asked Y/N. They both nodded. “Do you think...we could cash that in right about now?”

~

A month later, Y/N stood in front of the painting that hung on Snape’s door, frowning at the raven that stared right back at her, daring her to try and open the door. In all the excitement of Christmas and explaining to her relatives that she’d nearly been murdered by her ex-best friend in a haunted bathroom, she had completely forgotten to ask her father how to distract a charmed guardian painting, and it’d hardly be beneficial to owl him during a busy work month. It was still completely up to her.

The dungeons sent a certain chill through her bones as she ran through possible plans, prompting her to tuck her hands into her pockets and shiver so hard that she didn’t even hear the footsteps approaching. 

“What are you doing down here?” came the snotty, posh voice that she knew belonged to Pansy Parkinson.

“Parkinson,” Y/N greeted, snapping her head up to see that she didn’t come alone. Draco strode next to her, though he wouldn’t look at her directly. “Come for a rematch?”

Parkinson pulled out her wand and scoffed. “Wasn’t planning on it, but if you’re offering…”

“Pansy!” Draco hissed, yanking her away and forward. “We have places to be. Don’t waste your time.”

“But--”

“She almost got killed by Potter, like, yesterday,” he continued in a hushed voice. “Do you really want to make that worse?”

Parkinson sent her one last sour look before she was dragged off by Draco (who still refused to make eye contact with her). Y/N slumped against the wall, wincing as one of her injured spots bumped against a protruding stone. Why was he ignoring her? He’d protected her during the duel. He was even the one who stood over her as she lay crumpled on the floor. 

A lump began growing in her throat again as she realized just how lonely she was. With her friends gone, all she had now was...her owl, Edison? Yes, that was it. Edison and Hannah Abbott, who clearly was just letting her sit next to her for meals out of pity. Y/N wished that she had the strength to sit alone and just say fuck it so she wouldn’t have to be the kickstart to a bleeding-heart Hufflepuff’s philanthropy career, but she was already beat down enough as she was. Sitting alone would just seal the deal in her new life as a social reject who dreaded classes where the professors let you choose partners. It was like she was a shy first year again, too nervous to talk to anyone and instead sitting alone at the breakfast table, praying that she’d make friends with someone, anyone, even though she was too afraid to figure out how.

And then came Ron, the sweet ginger boy who she’d met once when she went to a wizarding play with her dad. He’d plopped into the space next to her one day, eyeing the untouched plate of toast in front of her.

“You gonna eat that?” he’d asked. Y/N had just stared, mouth agape that someone was actually talking to her. “Hey, you’re the Y/L/N girl, right? My dad works with yours.”

Without waiting for her reply, he’d just popped the piece of toast in his mouth and continued talking at her as if they were old friends. Before she knew it, she was getting swept up into the social swirl of Harry Potter and his friends, helping them as they made their way through Hogwarts and took on the challenges brought upon them by Voldemort and his cronies. For once in her life, Y/N felt like she actually belonged. 

And she’d thrown all of that away. 

“Y/N?” 

An unfamiliar, dreamy voice sounded from a little further down the dark hall, snapping Y/N out of it. She hadn’t even noticed, but she’d slid down to the ground and tucked herself into a ball. When she touched her face, she felt wetness on her cheeks. The raven in the painting made some kind of weird cackling sound.

“Who’s there?”

A girl in Ravenclaw robes, strange eyeglasses, and shockingly white-blond hair that rivaled Draco’s stepped into sight. Luna Lovegood. She’d seen her a few times--mostly during the Dumbledore’s Army meetings they’d both attended last year--but had never had a private, one-on-one conversation with her beyond the time that Y/N threw a protection charm to protect her from Bellatrix’s Avada Kedavra at the Ministry and she’d thanked her. 

“I thought I heard you talking to someone,” said Luna as she settled in next to her, crossing her legs. “Isn’t Snape’s raven lovely?”

“I suppose so,” mused Y/N. 

“His name is Marvin,” continued Luna, “and he always listens.”

“Huh?” Y/N balked, giving Luna a funny look. No wonder they call her Loony Lovegood she thought. “It--he can...talk?”

“Oh, yes,” said Luna, apparently not noticing her confusion. “Marvin is quite the conversationalist, to be honest. Snape is a very fortunate wizard to have him in his possession.”

As if to accent her point, Marvin crowed a few times.

“I was actually coming here to have a chat with him about you,” said Luna. “I think it’s terribly unfair how your friends are treating you. I thought that Marvin might know what to do. He always seems to.”

“Luna,” Y/N murmured, not expecting the way that her eyes began to swim with tears. “You...you really think so? I’ve been feeling so awful about what I’ve done…”

If she seemed taken aback by Y/N’s emotional outburst, she didn’t show it in the slightest. “Y/N, you just care about other people. And you know what it’s like to be lonely, so I understand why you didn’t want to leave someone alone when they felt that way, even if it was Malfoy.”

Y/N bit her lip to keep the tears from spilling over.

“My mother had this saying about kindness,” said Luna softly. “She told me that it’s easy to be kind to people you already love. But you can really tell how caring someone is by how they treat those who are different.”

Marvin made a sound that was eerily similar to a jackhammer in the background.

“Thank you,” managed Y/N, letting the girl pull her into a hug. “I...I can’t say that enough. I really needed to hear that.”

“I know,” Luna replied wistfully. “I’m sure your friends will come around, too.”

“I sure hope so.” She swallowed, giving her a small smile as Luna squeezed her hand. 

“Marvin is such a funny bird.” Luna shifted onto her feet, creeping towards the painting. “He loves shiny things. Now that I know the spell that weakens the barrier between the natural and painted world, I like to give him things sometimes. If he likes it enough, he’ll fly off to his flock to gloat to his murder for the rest of the day. He’s so proud.”

Something clicked in Y/N’s head. Was this her answer as to how to distract Marvin?

“It’s Transcendere, if you were wondering,” continued Luna, making to walk away. “Just in case you wanted to know. I can’t imagine why you’d need to, though. Anyways, I’m off to meet with Snape over a few questions on the exam. I don’t imagine he’ll be around here for the next hour!”

Before she could even thank her, Luna was already gone and down the hall. Y/N felt her pockets frantically, trying to find one thing that might appeal to the raven. He looked at her expectantly.

Her only piece of jewelry was her family ring, and apart from her obvious personal ties to the object, something told her that giving Snape’s guard bird a concrete identifier as to who broke into his stores would not be wise. So that left….She reached into her pocket, taking out the glittery quill that Draco had gifted her last fall. Giving it one last look and closing her fist around the feather one last time, she thought about how much she wished to go back to the simpler time.

Marvin made a little chirp, snapping her out of her reverie. 

“Transcendere.”

The quill poked through the canvas and into the scene, slowly changing so it fit the art style that the painter used to bring the raven to life. He wasted no time snatching it out of her grip, giving an appreciative gargle before he took off, flying away into the grey sky.

She was in. A quick Alohomora charm opened the door, and Y/N made quick work of deactivating the jinxes that guarded the entrance and was happy to see that he hadn’t changed anything else with his security measures. Finding the potion was easy, and before she knew it, she had reset all the security charms, shut the door, and made her way all the way up to the Gryffindor tower with the vial tucked firmly in her pocket. 

~

Getting Draco alone was the hardest part of her plan. Every time she saw him, he was either surrounded by a gaggle of Slytherins or darting off down side corridors that she could never quite locate. Carrying around the vial of stolen potion was getting increasingly stressful, too, especially now that their DADA class with Snape was coming up. He had to have noticed that his stores were broken into at that point, but given that he hadn’t stopped a meal yet to berate the student body on the importance of integrity and “keeping one’s grabby hands to themselves”, Y/N assumed she was somewhat in the clear. On the bright side, Y/N was enjoying mealtime much more now that she was eating with Luna. Her new friend even convinced her to go to the library with her one night to study--something that Y/N was not too familiar with. 

They’d left right before the library closed, going their separate ways. Something crossed Y/N’s mind as she realized what day it was--Saturday. Draco always worked on the cabinet on Saturdays, and of course he wasn’t going to bring his friends along with him. 

Quietly, she sank down next to the stone wall at the entrance, waiting for Draco to exit. She waited, and waited, and waited. Y/N was just beginning to wonder if Draco had switched his schedule around when the telltale sound of stone bricks scraping against each other snapped her to attention.

Draco looked more frazzled than usual as he stepped out of the newly-constructed entrance, his hands shakily running through his hair and his tie out of place. Y/N felt a sudden pang of guilt at the thought that she was going to add even more stress to his night.

“Draco,” she said, standing up and teetering at the sudden motion.

He started at the sight of her before setting his jaw and turning to continue a walk down in the opposite direction. 

“Please,” breathed Y/N, jumping forward to latch onto his wrist. “I need to talk to you.”

He immediately snatched his hand away, his scowl deeping in his features. “I don’t have time for this,” he said, though sheer exhaustion seemed to replace the usual venom in his voice. “If you’re here to apologize, I don’t want to hear it.”

“But--”

“I don’t have time,” he repeated once again, desperation seeping into the edges of his tone. “I don’t have the time to figure out whether or not I can trust you again.”

“Then let me make it easier.” Y/N reached into her pocket, producing the potion vial that had miraculously not been shattered after she’d carried it for so long. Draco arched an eyebrow. “Run a diagnostic spell on it. I want you to know that I’m being completely honest.”

“Y/L/N, I told you, I don’t want--”

“Please, Draco,” she pleaded, holding it out to him. “Just do it for me. If you do it, we’ll be even for what happened in Myrtle’s bathroom. I’ll leave you alone if you tell me to.”

He sucked in a breath, begrudgingly casting the spell. The vial glowed and cast a bright emerald light on his surprised features. “How did you get that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” rushed Y/N. “Just ask me anything. I’ll take it if you want.”

He looked like he was about to leave her in the corridor alone, so she did the only thing she could think of--uncorking the vial and downing it all in one go. It went down like water, hardly feeling like anything. She was surprised. Wasn’t it supposed to feel more compelling?

“Y/N, you are such an idiot sometimes,” he growled, but he turned back to her anyway. “Okay. Fine. Did Granger put you up to talking to me?”

“No. Harry did,” answered Y/N, the words coming spilling out of her mouth without her even thinking. Draco’s briefly softened expression immediately hardened. 

“I suppose that answers it then,” he snapped. “I’m not sure what that was supposed to accomplish.”

“Ask me something else!” cried Y/N. “Something you don’t already know the answer to.”

His silence was evidence enough that she was maybe, potentially, possibly getting to him. Something twanged in the pits of her stomach, reminding her of the time that she’d eaten bad fish in Greece and was sick for days, but she cast the thought aside for just a moment as he finally responded.

“This is ridiculous,” he clipped. She waited, turning the empty vial over in her hands. Finally, after a few agonizing moments of silence, his voice sounded again. “Why are your friends mad at you?”

Just as she was about to tell him, the tell-tale sound of footsteps and a cat’s meow echoed down the corridor. Filch. Panic-stricked, Y/N launched herself in the direction of the Room before a hand closed over her forearm and pulled her back.

“That’ll take too long,” Draco whispered, so close to her that she could feel his breath on her neck and had to try not to shudder. Without waiting for her response, he yanked her into the broom closet across the corridor and softly shut the door. 

It became fairly apparent that the broom closet was perhaps not the best hiding space for two adults, a fact that Y/N quickly noticed as she realized that the only place she could comfortably place her hands was lightly on top of Draco’s chest. His own hands pressed into the wall on either side of her head as he used it to push himself as far away from her as possible. When her eyes flickered up, she could see in the dim light that he’d shut his eyes. She couldn’t blame him--when she ran the plan through in her head, it rarely ever included getting stuck in a tiny broom closet together, and it never crossed her mind that it could happen before he’d even forgiven her. 

“I heard something too, my pretty.” Filch’s voice floated down the corridor as he neared them. She sucked in her breath, intent to hold it. She wished that she could cast a Silencio on the broom closet, but there was no way to be able to do that in such close range. Plus, she was quite preoccupied with the churning in her stomach that was getting significantly worse. 

Filch’s steps were getting louder as he called out, “Anyone there?”

“Yes,” Y/N let as a tortured, strangled whine. Realization flickered across Draco’s face as his hand shot out to clamp over her lips. She tried not to focus on how warm and nice his skin felt touching her and instead on the fact that Filch was still walking.

The footsteps finally paused outside of the broom closet. Y/N could feel Draco’s heart racing under her palm. She vaguely registered that her hands had long since curled into fists, clinging onto his shirt. 

“Anyone in here?”

“Mmph,” responded Y/N, hardly able to enunciate anything over the death grip Draco had on her face. This only made the lurching in her middle worse, so bad that she felt like she had bile rising in her throat.

“My lovely? What’s that?” A cat’s meow rang out from across the corridor. “Over by the Charms classroom?” Another meow. The sound of quick shuffling would’ve come to Y/N as a relief if she didn’t feel like she was about to puke the entire contents of her stomach up on Draco Malfoy’s hand.

“Thank Merlin.” Draco exhaled. Y/N could feel his shoulders relax under the grip she had on his shirt and took note of the fact that he smelled very strongly of that stupid rich scent in her Amortentia, something that was somewhat difficult when the cramping in her stomach had gotten so bad that she could hardly stand up straight.

Then he let his hand drop.

“They’re mad at me because I didn’t tell them about you.” The words came spilling out so fast and without prompt that Y/N felt like she was out of body, watching someone else speak for her. “I couldn’t ever bring myself to hurt you like that because even though you’ve been mean to me and my friends and I technically have no reason to want to protect you, I still do and it’s just so complicated because I thought I was just being a good person or whatever but honestly now that I think about it f it came down to it I would choose you over anyone else here and that’s scary and ohmygodIcan’tstop--” Y/N managed to suck in a small breath as the magic in her system propelled her forward, barely catching the widened eyes of Draco, “--It’s been so hard being away from you and I understand why you’re angry at me and I’m such a hypocrite for being upset that you were a Death Eater when I didn’t tell you why I started talking to you in the first place but I couldn’t just confess to you when I finally had a reason to spend time with you and I didn’t want to fuck it all up but I did and Draco please help I can’t stop I want to so badly you were never supposed to know all of this I thought that it would just make me tell the truth not everything--”

“I know,” His hand came up one more time, covering her mouth and muffling her voice. Without being able to move her lips, the words died down once again while the waves of nausea and agony hit in their place. Draco’s face had once again adopted that unreadable, somewhat sad expression as he moved his free hand so he could thumb away the tears that were collecting on her cheeks. Her fingers twisted into the soft fabric of his button down as she choked back a sob against his hand. “I know. That was really fucking stupid, even for you. You do know you’re not supposed to take more than an ounce of Veritaserum, right? This is going to take forever to get through your system. You just have to let it run its course. I’m sorry.” The potion was closing in around her throat as she blinked up at him through tear-ridden lashes. “I hear Filch escorting a student to McGonagall. This is our chance to get out.”

Y/N nodded as best as she could without loosening his hold on her, and they were creeping out of the broom closet and slowly making their way down the hall as silently as possible. He was to her right, his left arm slung around her shoulder so he could keep her quiet without sacrificing too much of his balance. He pulled her away from the direction of the Gryffindor dorms.

“Not happening,” he whispered, his lips almost brushing past her ear. He was so close. She shivered. “Filch went that way. Plus, I need to keep an eye on you until you’re back to normal.”

She nodded again. By some miracle, they made it to the Slytherin dorms without much of a hiccup beyond the awkward shuffle down the stairs. “Purity,” muttered Draco, prompting the cobblestones to rearrange themselves into a door. “Oh, don’t roll your eyes at me.”

Y/N scoffed behind his hand. The Slytherin common room was, thankfully, entirely empty, but very eerie and cold. She tried to open her mouth to tell him that he’d obviously drawn the short straw when it came to lodging, but when she felt his palm tighten over her lips, she was reminded that that wasn’t an option. 

“Here we are,” murmured Draco, his voice still low and careful as he led her to the end of the hall of the boys’ dormitories. Something other than the effects of the Veritaserum she consumed set off the butterflies inside of her once again when she thought about the fact that she was really going to see Draco’s dorm room. His door, black and heavy, was completely unblemished apart from the silver numbers of his room. 

Before she could think any further, he turned the knob and spun her so he was looking right down at her. “The less you talk, the longer it’s going to take for you to be normal again. Try not to be too loud, though. I wanted to sleep tonight.” With that, he released her once again.

“You have really nice hands,” she blurted out, immediately clapping her own palm over her mouth again.

“Oh.” An uncharacteristic blush rose in his cheeks. 

Squeezing her eyes shut and steeling herself for whatever was about to come out of her mouth next, she let her hand fall. “I--I actually think I can control some of what I say now.” She took one more breath in to check. “Yeah. Thank god. It’s not just...coming out of me anymore.”

“I’m not too surprised,” he said. “You were on quite a roll back there in the broom closet.”

“So, um…” She shuffled her feet. “Are we good now, do you think?”

Draco sighed. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone willingly down two state terrorist interrogation sessions worth of Veritaserum just to apologize to me. So, yeah, I guess. I think you should probably try and get some sleep. Chances are it’ll wear off some by tomorrow morning.” With that, he rested his hands on her shoulders and steered her towards his bed.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked, sinking down onto his black silk bedding and meeting his eyes.

He shrugged. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything before you sleep?”

“I’d really like it if you held me until I fell asleep,” Y/N said so quickly that she didn’t even have a chance to look away from him. He blanched, his eyebrows raising but his lip quirking up. 

“Wow. I wasn’t expecting that. I thought you were going to ask for water or something.”

“Draco, please don’t be mean,” she mumbled. “I didn’t mean to say it. It just came out. I would like some water, though.”

“Your wish is my command,” he drawled, disappearing into his bathroom before coming out with an empty glass that he cast a quick Aquamenti into. “Go slow. I really don’t want you coughing up water on my sheets.”

“Me neither,” she said between sips. “Merlin knows I’ve embarrassed myself enough already.”

When she finished, she handed it out to him. “Thank you. I really appreciate you doing this. I mean it.”

He snorted on his way to put the glass away. “Of course you do. That’s the beauty of Veritaserum.”

“You’re actually funny sometimes, you know,” she said. 

Draco smirked at her again. “Veritaserum. You’re doing wonders for my ego tonight.”

While he was doing whatever he was before getting into bed, Y/N went ahead and slipped under the sheets, rolling over onto her back so she was closest to the wall. She felt the bed slightly dip to her left and a throat clear.

“What is it now?” muttered Y/N. 

“You know, it’s really hard for me to do what you asked when you’re on your back like that,” he said.

“What?”

“Like, do you want me to be on top of you or something?”

“What are you even talking about?”

Draco huffed and reached his hands out to grab her shoulders once again, turning her to face him. Before she could register what was happening, she felt his own hands come around under her arms to rest on her back. Her head lay on the swath of skin between his shoulder and his collarbone, and she could feel the quickening of his pulse. “There. Honestly.”

“This is really nice,” Y/N blurted out, physically cringing when she realized that in her position she couldn’t easily cover her mouth. 

“Yeah?” She could feel the laugh rattle through his diaphragm.

“Yes.” Y/N huffed. “Stop asking me questions. This isn’t very kind of you.”

He let out another light laugh, his fingers moving to thread through her hair. “Is this okay?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve wanted--” Y/N buried her face into his shoulder, silencing the words that were about to come out of her mouth. “Oh, my god,” she said after she resurfaced. “I think I want to take a vow of silence after this is over.”

Y/N could hear his smile as he offered her a, “What a load of good that thought is doing you now.”

“Please, just knock me unconscious until it all goes away,” she groaned. 

“Stop demeaning my work,” he said, mock offense creeping into his tone as he continued to card his fingers through her hair in soothing motions. “What do you think I’m trying to do? If you want me to give you blunt force head trauma, then just say so. Sheesh.”

She sighed dramatically. “At this point, maybe.”

“Seriously, though, are you feeling okay? That was a lot of Veritaserum,” he murmured. 

“I’m just feeling mortified right now,” she answered. 

“You still need to tell me where you got it.”

“Oh. I stole it. From Snape.”

All at once, Draco dropped his hands and pulled slightly away so he could gape down at her. “You did what now?”

“Yeah,” she said, confusion creeping into her tone. “It really wasn’t that hard, you know. I’ve done it before.”

“When?”

She felt another lurching sensation. All of the questioning was starting to make her stomach turn again. “I was a second-year. Harry had to brew Polyjuice Potion and he needed an ingredient we couldn’t find anywhere else.”

Draco let out a low whistle. “At twelve?”

“Eleven. My birthday hadn’t come around yet.” 

“That’s…” He’d shifted so she wasn’t pressed up to him, catching his lip between his teeth as he thought. Y/N hadn’t made much notice of this development as the growing pain in her midsection grew. “That’s quite a lot for a kid.” The way his hair glowed in the soft moonlight made her heart twinge. It looked so soft. Y/N noticed that she’d been staring at him for far too long without saying something when he blinked, planning on opening her mouth to apologize or crack a joke when instead:

“I have the biggest crush on you.” The words left her lips without any prior consent, the consonants and vowels forming before she could even think.

He was completely frozen in place, his expression entirely unreadable.

 “Oh, god, and now I’ve ruined it all because I know you said that I didn’t have a chance that one time in detention and you don’t see me like that and I’m pretty sure you’re with Pansy and even if you weren’t I’m not enough for you and I wish I hadn’t taken this stupid potion but I know that I’d do it a hundred times over if it meant that you would trust me--”

Her words stopped abruptly as Draco silenced her--not with his hand, but by placing his lips on hers. The kiss was brief and shy, more of a question in nature than a statement. Her fingers curled around the collar of his shirt as he pulled away, a rather frazzled and deer-in-the-headlights look etched into his features. 

She was speechless. Absolutely, completely, irrevocably speechless. Despite the insistent gnawing of the Veritaserum at the lining of her stomach, she could only manage to blink owlishly up at him, mouth agape.

“Are you okay?” His voice was low. 

“Ehm…” Her lips refused to move. Draco frowned, dropping his hands from her sides and sitting up straighter. Something impartial washed over his features, turning his expression from hurt to uninterested, like he’d woken up from a pleasant nap and was snapped back to reality. His legs pulled away so no part of her body was touching him.

“I--er, didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “I just wanted to make you quiet again, y’know, before you said anything else you regretted. And I thought that...kissing you would shock your system enough to make you stop talking.”

Her cheeks turned a violent red as she realized the depth of his statement. “So you...don’t see me like that?” 

“No.” He ran his fingers through his hair once, took in a deep breath, and dropped his gaze to the comforter. “You should go to sleep. Hopefully you’ll feel better in the morning.”

At the very least the potion was beginning to settle in her stomach as Draco’s breathing turned slow over the next hour or so. She didn’t know all too much about the mechanics of Veritaserum, but at this point, she had almost nothing left to confess anyways. 

Y/N tore her eyes away from his sleeping form, turning around to face the wall. His bed was soft. And it smelled like him, like the perfect blend of black tea and sage and snobbery that was in her Amortentia. She squeezed her eyes shut and wished to be anywhere but there. When he kissed her, it felt like he wanted her. Yes, of course he was timid, but she’d thought he was just nervous. But what was there for him to be nervous about? She’d already confessed under literal truth serum. He knew how she felt, and he didn’t even say sorry for kissing her and telling her he didn’t mean it like that. He still didn’t want her. Of course he didn’t when Pansy Parkinson in all her obnoxious Slytherin perfection was right fucking there. 

She was just beginning to feel sleep tug on the strings of her consciousness as she felt her hair get tucked behind her ear by a warm hand coming around from behind. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have done that. It’s better this way, you’ll see. It wouldn’t be fair if I...if it was different.” Despite his words, he let his fingers brush over his jaw as he moved closer, his shoulder lightly pressing into her back.

At that moment, there were so many things that Y/N wanted to say, ranging from “I am never going to live this moment down because I’m positively lovesick over you” to “I am going to beat you up for kissing me and then telling me it didn’t mean anything after I confessed.” Two schools of thought, neither of them perfectly encapsulating the true essence of her feelings. Her most traitorous thoughts told her to stay still and enjoy the final moments of affection she’d get from Draco, but she’d given into impulse a little too much that night. 

He must’ve noticed that her breathing had changed because he suddenly shifted his weight onto his free arm, keeping his hand poised by her neck. 

“Please stop touching me.” The words that came out of her mouth sounded much more pathetic than they did in her head, a voice crack finding its way into the final syllables. He jolted away.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“I thought…” He swallowed. “I thought you liked it when I touched you.”

“Yeah, before you told me you didn’t feel the same way,” she mumbled. “I really would appreciate it if you didn’t make me rehash that again. Today has been humiliating enough. I’m not looking to set a record or something here.”

She’d thought that her quip was pretty good, but Draco remained completely humorless. “I’m sorry. That was wrong of me. It was stupid of me to act on impulse like that. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Never meant to--” She stopped in her tracks, instead letting out a sharp huff. “Nevermind. I don’t want a fight right now. I just want to sleep.”

Much to Y/N’s horror, her throat began to tighten up again with the tell-tale coming of tears. The next breath she exhaled was embarrassingly shaky and loud, and the movement that it sparked in Draco was even more mortifying. He made a small sound of sympathy. “C’mere, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I know that must’ve hurt you.”

Undecided between feeling pissed and just wanting to forgive him, she slowly sat up and faced him. His arms were out in a motion of invitation, an unreadable expression in his eyes. 

“You’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen.” The Veritaserum in her system didn’t care much about her emotional turmoil, much to her horror. Y/N began to turn away, a watery scowl fixed firmly on her face, but Draco’s hand on her shoulder stopped her. 

“If I...wanted to be with you,” he began, his tone careful and clipped, “It would never work. Okay? Trust me when I say it has nothing to do with you. You did nothing wrong.”

“I kind of did.”

“Yeah, well, we both did. But I don’t want you to think that I, er, never thought about it.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t quite sure what the underlying meaning of that was. 

“So... “ He motioned again with open arms. “Do you...want to? I’ll play with your hair again until you fall asleep.”

Y/N stared at him, completely astonished. “Why? If you don’t see me like that, then why?”

“I’m not going to sleep tonight anyways,” he said softly. “And I want to help you feel better.”

She opened her mouth with the hopes of a biting retort coming out, but instead she was met with silence. Against her better judgement, she set her clenched her jaw and gave in. 

His arms were wrapped around her in an instant as she tentatively settled back into his chest, her hands lightly rested on his shoulders. Despite the humiliating previous events, it didn’t feel awkward, especially when Draco’s long fingers slowly threaded through her locks and brushed past her neck. A small, forbidden sigh of contentment left her lips when he let his touch linger over the back of her neck. His deep, slow breathing and the steady beat of his heart began to lull her to sleep. 

The next morning, she was able to lie convincingly enough to Draco, telling him her name wasn’t Y/N Y/L/N and that she was 80 years old. Confident that she wasn’t about to spill all of his secrets to the student body, he told her she was free to go. 

“Draco?” she asked poised by his door.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think I’ll see you much after this? You know, now that we aren’t Potions partners and don’t have detention together anymore?”

He sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe when this is all over, I’ll see you around at pureblood functions or whatever.”

“Yeah.” Y/N tried not to think about the implications of pureblood functions still existing in the future after this. What kind of world did Draco think this would turn into? “But this is probably it, right? The last time I’ll see you like this?”

She didn’t even need to see his nod. She knew. That’s why he offered to play with her hair despite not even liking her--it was his way of apologizing for roping her into this, for tricking her, for shutting her out, for the Sectumsempra curse...for everything. His way of apologizing before they parted ways. 

final a/n: ty for reading! first off, congrats to the anons that guessed veritaserum. that shit took me forever to write bc i had such high expectations but it turned out to be quite the challenging scene since i still had to juggle draco’s conflicting emotions/distrust and the fact that i really wanted him to make her feel better fjdkas; i thought i’d mention someone who helped me write this (even tho i don’t think they realized how much they helped lmao)L i’d like to thank my 🌟 anon for giving me some inspiration. i was struggling with the first half of this story in terms of pacing for quite some time but found some help in an ask they sent me mentioning how they related to y/n feeling lonely/would like to see luna and neville mentioned. unfortunately, i haven’t quite been able to fit neville in yet (and i’m not sure if i can without it seeming just like a random extra bit of story that isn’t helpful to the plot), but hearing some affirmation that y/n’s loneliness was something that actually resonated w them really helped. it made me realize that the isolation from her friends/draco didn’t have to just be a logical turn of events for the plot to proceed in a sensical way and instead could be used to explore y/n’s character. i hope you all enjoyed! i promise the stuff w her dad and the order will be cleared up next chapter

[lovetendencies]

—DRACO MALFOY in LOVE ANNIVERSARY

teen pregnancy.

Your first children, it was a birth that was done alone, and it frequently scared you when you remembered it. Your lover, first love, Draco Malfoy wasn’t there and he hadn’t known about his first kid.

Your first baby, a beautiful boy, was with your parents in the Muggle World being taken care of from your parents and as well was your second. They’d send postcards and photos you had to open when you were alone so you could see your baby boys, who were growing to look more and more like Draco as time went on. You wrote postcards back for your parents and mostly for your sons to read, hoping they were old enough by now to carefully read words and hear what you had to say.

You often felt guilty for not telling Draco when the Headmaster, Dumbledore, told you not to tell anyone as they’d handle the news badly. He had excused you from Hogwarts for a full year but with Professors who had given you homework. “I missed you, my love,” Draco whispered the first night he had you alone. You were nearing your guys’ last year at Hogwarts, being in your sixth, and your both your sons being born just a few months ago. You felt terrible as to not celebrating their first birthday with them and Draco as a family because you’d be away at Hogwarts in November.

But you couldn’t tell him, you couldn’t, he’d had been afraid either way and cut off all connections possible to not talk to you. When you had said you missed him too, you remembered when he looked down at you with skepticism. “You look like you’re sick. Are you okay? Is there something you’re not telling me?” he asked. “Are you alright? While you were away did you get sick from something?” Draco had a tendency to overthink that’d often give him a headache, his stomach would twirl, and his thoughts often had the better of him but nobody except you had known that. “No, don’t worry, I’m okay. The headmaster said I was supposed to see my family because something had happened to my parents,” it was a lie.

Your parents and all your known relatives were alive and well, healthy in fact. It was your sons you hoped to see someday and noticed your face enough to call you mommy. “Are they alright? I know I’ve never met them before but—” it was how worried he was that caught you off-guard. It had made you fall into his arms and cry, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning in to plant kisses on his face, that’d have been your moment to tell him—that he was a daddy, that he was a father to the most precious and beautiful boys you’ve ever seen.

“They’re doing okay,” you cried. “They’re alright,” he had fallen back against his bed, surprised, and he did that stupid smile that would make everything okay again. “I’m glad—because I still have to meet them, right?” he smiled, bringing your head against his chest, holding you tightly in his arms until Pansy Parkinson herself, slammed the door open. Pansy and Blaise had already known about your guys’ relationship, having seen that night your sons were conceived, and under circumstances, accidental but who you had loved either way.

“We’re already made sure you guys weren’t doing the devils tango again,” Pansy stared down at you guys with a disgusted expression, and all while Blaise had side-smiled, containing a laugh. The two that often trailed Draco from behind were also your best friends, leaning towards more to Pansy who was with you through thick and thin, and her own share of insecurities and breakdowns; that night, you were focused more of what tomorrow’s postcards could bring, your baby boys smiling with their hands that covered his cheeks like the last? Or whimpering baby boys you wished to hold in your arms?

Your parents were fond of magic as they had went to Hogwarts themselves as kids, both marrying muggles and having a daughter who was likely to be magic, they knew the moment when there were things in the most odd places. They’ve also known Dumbledore their whole lives as well, he was quite fond of your family, and the generations. “I love you,” Draco whispered, his arms trailing around your waist as the other two had noticed, their gaze focused open you and Draco until they had thought it was time to leave. They said their see you tomorrow’s and he had wrapped you on top of his lap.

During the conversation you had with your best friends, Pansy whispered next to you, saying: “Draco has been faithful to you. I didn’t see him next to a girl except me, didn’t have his hands on anyone when we were at parties on weekends, and he often mentioned that he missed you,” she chuckled. “And I was surprised because I was hoping I’d have to beat him up to get some sense in him—but he does. For you,” she kissed your cheek, a small gesture you two would give each other that’d make Draco and Blaise turn their heads towards you guys.

You wanted to tell him that he had beautiful sons that looked identical to him as he were as a child himself—but somewhere in his eyes, he was living to be a teenager, hoping to be a kid again. “I wish I could tell you things I know when I left here for a bit,” Draco gazed in your eyes, hoping for truth with a raised brow. “But I’m going to tell you anyway,” he softened, his arms right around your waist. “We have my parents to be expecting when we visit them this summer,” you smiled down at him. “I know for a fact they can’t wait to meet you, and I can’t wait until you meet them because I’ve told them a lot about you. What you do, how your parents are like, how we met,” and it was that, it made him chuckle.

It was half the truth. You couldn’t wait to see your both of your sons when you went to visit them this summer, and Draco, his eyes were lit with hope. Since summer was around the corner, surprised you came back anyway, he begun to prepare his luggage, his most finest clothing he has ever owned, along with things that’d impress “your parents”. But when in reality, they’d have rather much seen him, their father, their daddy.

Time went by fast, it went by slow, and it often differed. By the time you guys were on the train, he had begun to pace around with his hand up to his chin, rubbing his face and he had a stern expression that you had to remind would give him wrinkles. “It’s going to be okay. They will love you,” you weren’t afraid of what your parents would think of Draco as they had already loved him despite not meeting him. They’ve told you many times that they’d help you through your journey of becoming a mother, and if Draco didn’t comply, they’d be there for you but you’d rather much have him.

You’ve gotten the approval of Dumbledore to tell Draco, and he had given you a smile that spoke many words. He mentioned that he was proud of you to see this through with him, and talking about the things that could’ve possibly happen to Draco, all the different possibilities and outcomes made you terrified to your core. He were about to meet your sons for the first time, and he didn’t know they could possibly have existed.

They were both born of November a few months ago, and by this time, they’d have been seven months old. “What if they don’t like me? What if they don’t see what you see? What if they think I’m no good? Oh god, I shouldn’t have brought these clothes,” he chewed on his nail and sat beside you worriedly, resting his head against your shoulder with a slump that made you chuckle, and being received an expression that made him raised his eyebrows. “They’re going to love you, baby,” you twirled his hair, knowing how much he loved getting his hair played with, and within a few minutes, he fell asleep.

The next half hour, the train had stopped, and you saw your parents against a new SUV they had bought for you and their grandsons. “Let’s go, we’re here,” Draco had begun to grow more nervous and nervous at each step he took off the train, and the moment he did, he didn’t fail to notice your parents. He had seen the postcards they sent of themselves in Paris, Canada, Africa—they had informally greeted Draco with questions such as: “How are you? Are you taking care of our daughter well?” and Draco had his own share of postcards himself from your parents.

You knew your parents had loved Draco—and part of the reason why was because you guys never had a fight, when you guys did, and you had avoided everything to not tell them when it was difficult to. The amount of postcards and letters that were left not sent and in a garbage can were uncountable. Draco trailed from behind like a scared little puppy meeting it’s owner for the first time. “Hey, my lovely!” your mother had cheered, running towards you as you had dropped your luggage at your sides, which you had grown impatient. “Where are my babies?” you whispered softly, hugging her back. “They’re sleeping in the car. Have you told him yet?” she asked.

You had shook your head as Draco helped out your father to load the luggage in the back. He didn’t see the two baby seats in the back with two babies who had a grown set of hair. You had glanced inside the car and seen them—your sons. Your heart ached as their hair had begun to change since the last seven months you’ve seen them. One of your sons, Vincent, had dark brown hair with platinum blonde streaks—and your other son, Scorpius, had full platinum blonde hair. And you were glad that your hair colour was part in Vincent’s hair.

“We have lasagna in the oven back home. Have you ever tried it, Draco?” your mother asked. He had shook his head, slowly walked towards you and kept behind you, timid of your father and your mother. “Well, if you’re scared of us, you can relax. If you had other girlfriends and met their fathers, we aren’t like them,” your father smiled, passive aggressively, he spoke. “No, sir. I haven’t had any other serious girlfriends other than your daughter,” and it was true, he hadn’t except you and you’ve been there for him most of your time at Hogwarts.

Draco hadn’t noticed the two babies in the back as soon as he got in the vehicle. “We hope you two spend time together this Summer,” your parents spoke in unison, together, they clapped hands with laughter. “We are expected to travel just outside the city for a couple of days—and it’s only a few hours,” you knew what the code was for. They were going to take a break and it was up to you and Draco to take care of the babies for the Summer, meaning three months. By the time you guys had gotten to your place, your father and Draco grabbed the luggage and dropped them inside. “My babies,” you walked over to a small bench at the front of the house.

You had planned to walk in, your parents in the backyard, and telling Draco he had two sons. But you were caught up in the moment, they looked up while rubbing their eyes and soon they were bouncing in your lap, it had made you laugh and worried as you were alone and didn’t want to drop them. After awhile, the sun was starting to set and among the horizon, hues mixed with yellow, orange, and a hint of blue that the sky was being put to rest. “My babies,” you whispered, rubbing your forehead against theirs and kissing their plump and soft cheeks. “I missed you so much,” you planned to tell Draco once you got inside as the sun had hinted you spent too much time with them and less with Draco.

“I’ll tell your daddy that he has two beautiful and perfect sons,” they looked up at you with tired and droopy eyes. They looked like Draco as Narcissa gave you baby photos of him with twinkling and watery eyes. “If he doesn’t react in a way I hope he does,” you whispered. “Then we don’t need him, okay? I’ll raise you both myself, know you guys are so loved,” you whispered as you had stood up from your spot, heading back inside, watching for twigs and stones that might’ve tripped you. But instead, Draco was sitting against the pavement with his face in his hands, and he looked as though he had been silently crying, watching you and the twins.

Your heart skipped a beat as the twins were resting against your breasts, their eyes half-open from spending their time with you with laughter and giggles. “Draco?” you whispered. He looked up from his hands, his face the most stern and cold you’ve ever seen him, and the way he looked at you was as if he hadn’t known you—like it was when you guys were in your first years all over again. “I’m sorry,” you let out as he had broken up again. “I saw them—but I thought they were your brothers. I noticed the blonde hair like mine, their pale skin, blue and brown eyes like ours, and I still thought they were your brothers,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes to avoid tearing up, and looking ‘weak’.

“I didn’t tell your parents. I didn’t tell anyone—not even Pansy,” you whispered, your arms starting to grow tired from their body weight, and you had walked over to the bench as he trailed from behind. “You were the only person I wanted to tell before anyone else,” you whispered. “Because I thought I’d be worthy enough again—and it was unfair for me to keep a secret like this from you for a year,” Draco had timidly sat beside you, glancing at the babies from time to time as he fidgeted with his hands and the ends of his black shirt. “I’m not going to leave you,” he mumbled. “And frankly, I don’t think I have the heart to,” he whispered, the courage to look up at you.

“Because I spent most of my time devoted to you, with you, not have I once thought about any other girl. And while you were away, I had many times to think about the future,” he leaned back, staring at the sky that was beginning to set. “Of course, children were in there,” he uncomfortably adjusted himself, and it was almost clear to you. “But I’ve thought after Hogwarts, we’d get married, successful, travel, settle down and have kids,” he rubbed his face in his hands. “And I wonder now,” he looked down at Vincent and Scorpius.

“I wonder how my parents will react when I have two sons,” he trailed off. “That look like me,” he continued to stare at them with dazed eyes, as if he couldn’t believe he was a father—a daddy to your sons you hoped they’d have. “Do you want to hold Scorpius?” you asked, looking at him adjust himself uncomfortably again while rubbing his hands together. “He’s your son, a baby, not a bomb,” you smiled wide enough he started to as well. Draco’s eyes were free of tears, and he looked ecstatic. The moment he had Scorpius in his arms, he looked as if he was about to cry, and he did.

“They’re going to wake up,” you whispered, rubbing his arm up and down. Your parents had luggage ready when you guys had gone back in the house—and Draco didn’t part from his sons. Every second of every day, he’d have them in his arms, kissing their full set hair of heads, their plump cheeks even when they were awake. They’d often look at him with raised eyebrows but soon grew on him—they seemed to know, that he, Draco Malfoy, was their father. Your parents had left the next morning with directions on how to make their bottles when you knew how to, how to change their diapers, how to make them fall asleep—and all while Draco had looked at the directions multiple times with tired and sore eyes that looked like they were about to roll and fall out of their sockets.

He was just as a new parent as you were, and you were glad that he had stuck around. Over the Summer, there was an owl sent by Dumbledore who had congratulated you and Draco. “He knew!?” he whisper-yelled, looking at you with raised eyebrows and an unbelievable expression. “He was the first person I told when I found out I was pregnant. If I told you—you would have freaked out, would you?” Draco thought for a second, shrugged it off and looked away with his cheeks heating up. After you two had sent a letter to Dumbledore with pictures you guys had taken over the Summer, along with the twins who were growing, and in August—you had been there for their first birthday party.

Along with Draco who had looked down at them with a wide smile, holding them in his arms as he sang happy birthday with a cake that he had ordered especially expensive. They knew they had a father—and one of their first words together were daddy. “I love them,” Draco whispered as they were given a sliver of cake, not too much icing, and they had their face dug in like cavemen, cheeks with white icing and they looked like they were having fun. “With an appetite of mommy,” he joked.

The same day, you guys had went to the beach together as a family, and it made your heart ache and ache constantly. You had planned to tell Pansy and Blaise next—who you would know have bizarre and expressions that’d be beyond surprise. Then—it’d be Draco’s parents as they’d wonder why he didn’t spend the summer with him anymore.

The following years, you and Draco had gotten married and had your last planned child. Your sons, Vincent and Scorpius, had grown into their looks. Scorpius had platinum blonde hair like Draco as dark brown streaks appeared as soon as he was two years. Vincent’s platinum blonde streaks spread across his hair, and soon his roots were the only thing that were dark brown. “Meet your baby brother,” you remembered whispering to them as they had been six turning seven then. Draco had been over your shoulder the whole time, looking down at the three babies, and then you.

Who he would say multiple times have saved him when she’s least expected it. “He’s a boy?” Vincent spoke aloud. “But I thought you guys said she was a girl!” he pushed the baby away with a small fist and the baby had woken up with tired and glossy eyes. Draco, who had witnessed, had a vein popping out of his neck as he kept a small smile. “Sometimes, baby, that they get it wrong. But we love him no matter what,” Scorpius held out his arms as he held him.

“I love you,” Draco whispered from behind, his arms travelling towards your waist. “No, Draco, not another baby. The first two were a difficult delivery and this baby was even more harder,” you pushed his hands off as you had laughed. “I’m kidding,” you whispered. “I love you too,” as you pushed yourself back against his body, wrapping his arms around your waist as you two had looked down at the twins who softly poked at the babies cheeks—and when they did, they pulled away quickly and giggled.

“My love,” he whispered. “My darling wife,” Draco kissed the back of your neck and continued to dig his face in the hem of your neck with a small smile. “I can’t believe how much I love you. I’d give up anything for you and my boys,” he pecked your neck. “Love you forever,” he whispered.

[fernpost]

Cycle 0 - Interviews

[read on ao3]

[next]

Taako Taaco. 114. Elf. Wizard; Specialization in transmutation and inventive magical applications.

Previous experience: Top of class at Tredore, Academy of Magics and Technology; recently graduated.

Criminal Record: Multiple counts of petty theft.

Davenport likes to think of himself as calm and composed. It’s hard to throw him off. He has to be in order to have gotten this far in his mission as fast as he has.

But when he turns around from shutting the door to see his interviewee with his feet kicked up on the table, twirling a wand through his fingers, he’s a little shocked. He’s been doing these interviews for two days now, and even the more relaxed and confident people have held a bit more sense for decorum.

It’s a bit rude.

It’s also a little interesting.

He sits at his desk, pulling the elf’s papers away from his boots (shiny, and though they look expensive he can see they’re worn down and well taken care of) and glances down. “Tell me, Taako Taaco, what makes you want to explore the planerverse?”

“Bored.”

If the feet on the desk threw him off for a second, that floors him entirely. “Bored?”

“I’ve got nothing else to do on this plane, why not, you know?”

“No burning desire to go further than any being has gone before?” That’s one of the normal responses, the well-planned out speeches he keeps getting in response to his opening question.

The elf crosses his feet, leaning back somehow further into the provided chair. Davenport worries for a second that he may fall as he continues on, “that’s cool too, I guess. But I figure, why wouldn’t you want the great Taaco name aboard your ship.”

Davenport picks up a pen from his table and makes a small note on the paperwork, “no offense, Mr. Taaco, but you’re rather cavalier about this interview that determines whether or not you’re accepted into a program that may redefine our understanding of the world.”

The elf shrugs and takes his feet off of Davenport’s desk, flashing him a smirk, “you’ve seen my sister’s paperwork, yeah? No way you’re not going to accept her, and we’re a package deal. Says it right there in bold at the top of my application, my man.” It does, in fact, say that at the top. Cursive words noting how he refuses to accept any position on the ship if his sister isn't there too. When reviewing who he was interviewing today, he saw similar words on Lup Taaco’s paperwork.

“You’re very confident in your sister’s abilities.” Davenport begins, pausing for a second as he notes the way the elf begins to tense up before continuing, “however, I wouldn’t sell yourself so short. You also graduated top of your class, and excelled in the art of transmutation multiple times. One of your letters of recommendation even noted how you made many spells easier to cast, somatically speaking.”

“What can I say, I’ll find any short cut I can.”

Davenport makes another note on his paper. “Now, I do need to ask about your record of petty theft.”

“Oh, natch.”

Lup Taaco. 114. Elf. Wizard; Specialization in evocation and applied magic regarding planar research.

Previous experience: Top of class at Tredore, Academy of Magics and Technology; recently graduated.

Criminal Record: Multiple counts of petty theft.

“Lup Taaco, it is nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Captain.” The woman in front of him smiles. The resemblance to her brother couldn’t be more clear, and though her demeanor is quite similar, she at least doesn’t have her feet on his desk.

Not that his desk is anything fancy, but the point stands. “I’m not technically the captain yet, you know.”

“Potato, potato.”

Davenport is fairly certain that’s not how that phrase is used. “You did research into the planes at Tredore, correct?”

“Quite a bit, yeah. I’m sure my brother told you?”

The slight tilt of her head and lit of her voice tells Davenport this is some sort of test, which is confusing and a bit disconcerting, considering he is the one conducting the interview. He checks a quick box on his papers. “He talked you up a bit, yes. But this is your own interview, and I wanted to discuss your own knowledge with you, personally.”

She smiles, a touch more warmth to it than her previous attitude. “Oh, of course. Did quite a bit of studying at Tredore. First real school we attended. Kinda boring at times, you know?”

“If you’re accepted into this program, it’s going to be four intense months of studying and teaching you the more complex workings of the ship. Plus the two months of actually being on the ship.”

“That’s the fun stuff. Not a third semester in a row of another language I already figured out most of years ago.”

“How many languages do you speak, Ms. Taaco?”

“Including common, five languages.”

“Impressive.” Davenport himself only speaks three. “Now, I would like to ask you about your criminal record, if you don’t mind?”

Her smile grew sharp as she laughs.

Honestly, he isn’t surprised. Her explanation is the same as her brothers. Grew up on the road, needed food and other items on occasion. Didn’t always run fast enough. Davenport can’t fault them, and certainly won’t hold it against them.

He glances down at her paperwork, about to ask another question about her education, when she speaks up. “I’ve got a question for you, Captain.”

“Oh?”

“The ship- we’re really going with the name ‘The Starblaster’?”

Davenport sighs. He knew this question was coming, but he was expecting it to come during a press conference from a reporter, not a potential shipmate. “Yes. To be fair, it was a communal name we put to a vote from everyone who worked on building the engine.”

Ms. Taaco smiles. “Dope.”

Barry J. Bluejeans. 37 years old. Human. Wizard; specialization in applied magic regarding bonds and planar research.

Previous experience: Current assistant professor at Duffman University of the Arcane, part-time employee at the Institute of Planer Research and Exploration.

Criminal Record: Previous altercations regarding necromancy; no crimes against the nature of life and death ever committed.

Mr. Bluejeans is an interesting man. By the look of him, you’d expect to see him fumbling his way through a PTA meeting for his two kids. Instead, Davenport is staring down the word ‘necromancy’ on his paperwork on an application regarding literal planar travel on a ship called 'the Starblaster.'

So far, the interview has been going well. He’d listened to the man explain his research into the arcane, and he’d understood planar travel as well as any of the current scientists and engineers at the Institute. He was called in often for conferences and meetings about the bond engine. He’d seen the man walking around on occasion. They’d never been in a meeting together before, but he’d seemed nice.

But he also had a history of necromancy.

Now, Davenport doesn’t like to judge people. However, being in an enclosed space with someone who needed to specify he had never technically committed “crimes against the nature of humanity” isn’t the most comforting.

But, he was a smart man. Easy to get along with, too. So far. Necromancy notwithstanding.

Best to get it over with, “so, Mr. Bluejeans. I do need to ask about your criminal record-”

“Oh! Yeah, I never killed anyone. Or un- killed anyone. Uh, resurrected, I mean. Just did lots of studying into the application of necromancy and necromantic spells. Got in trouble because I toed the line of ‘research’ and ‘bringing my cat back to life,’ but got a stern talking to. Didn’t try it again, and don’t plan on needing to deal with those types of authorities again.”

Okay, normal enough answer, far as the situation applies-

“My current research into it has stayed purely theoretical, and it won’t interfere with the mission at all.”

So the man is still into necromancy.

Davenport glances down at the man’s file, thick with it’s attached papers Bluejeans has done on planar research. He’s not even stuck up about his level of education, and that’s extremely rare for the field.

Holding back a sigh, Davenport asks, “Can you explain the paper you wrote on the outer planes interactions with the inner planes for me?”

It was a really good paper.

But the man is still into necromancy.

Lucretia. 20. Human. Chronicler; Specialization in journalism.

Previous experience: Due to multiple NDA, she is unable to give us the exact number and titles of books she has written, but she sent letters of recommendation from Duke Rensburg, Lady Norabelle, and Warren of the Seatree Clan.

Criminal Record: Acquisition and attempted use of a false ID.

“So, Ms. Lucretia, I understand you cannot provide us with most examples of your works, but from what you have provided, you seem to be very, very good.”

“I like to think so, yes.” The young woman in front of him seems polite. She’s quiet; he saw her waiting outside with a few others before her interview, and while most of them were engaged in some awkward small talk, she sat away from them. Likely partially due to her age- she is much younger than the people outside- but she also simply seems quiet.

Which wouldn’t be the worst quality in someone you would be sharing a small, enclosed space with for an extended period of time. But, if she couldn’t bond with the others sufficiently, the bond engine won’t work.

(Hell, the bond engine was already finicky, they figured out the tech only a month ago, and they only have four months to bond an entire crew to pilot it and-)

“Can you explain to me why you acquired a fake ID and tried to use it at a, uh,” Davenport glances down at the records in front of him, holding back a chuckle, “at the forbidden section of the Library of Runar?”

Lucretia looks uncomfortable for a second, and he’s sure if the lighting in the room were better he would be able to see her flush with embarrassment. She gives him a hesitant smile, “I can’t get into the explicit details, but I was working on a book for an older client whose memory was becoming patchy, and I wanted to confirm some details before I put their name to it. They wouldn’t allow me into the section without the proper documents, but my client refused to agree that I should double check his work, even though I was almost certain he was wrong, so I simply… found a way to get past their guard. I wasn’t going to steal anything and I was going to use the proper equipment to read through the documents.”

Davenport smiles, “pursuit of knowledge and truth is important to you, then?”

“I don’t think spreading lies, especially in that context, is very honorable, no.” Her hands are folded in her lap now, and she seems a bit more relaxed.

Considering the others he is planning on accepting, he may be wrong about her getting along with them. Anyone willing to break the law just to prove an old man wrong would at least get along with him. Davenport refuses to have any pushovers aboard his ship.

Magnus Burnsides. 19. Fighter; Specialization in protection fighting and mechanical engineering.

Previous experience: Current bouncer at Apex Club. Currently enrolled in Gallier’s Fighter Academy and College.

Criminal Record: One count of assault and battery, appealed for defense of another person present. One count of indecent exposure and public intoxication.

Davenport will be the first to admit it can be tricky to follow human aging patterns, but he knows he’s not mistaken in thinking the man in front of him is barely out of “child” territory. Nineteen is a very, very small amount of time to be alive. Also, a very, very small amount of time to learn important things, like how to run what is basically a ship right out of a science fiction novel- complete with breakthrough technology.

Despite this, it’s hard to not find the young man in front of him to be endearing, and mostly knowledgeable in the things they need him to be.

“Magnus. You’re very young, one of the youngest applicants we have. What makes you think you’re qualified as the head of security of the ship?”

The young man in front of him- Gods, he really is young- grins and lifts his arms to flex, a show of pride and ego almost unbefitting of an interview setting, “Have you seen my muscles? I’m very strong, and a very good fighter.”

Many of today’s interviews have been quite different than he was expecting.

“I was referring more to job experience.”

“Oh!” Magnus shifts in his seat, fingers drumming against the table as he thinks. “I worked as a bouncer for a club while I was in college and did, if I must toot my own horn, a very good job. You should have a letter of recommendation from the owner-” He leans forwards, reaching a hand out as if to look through his own files to show him the letter.

“Yes, I did read through it. She was very thorough in stating how eager you were to help.” Davenport glances down at the papers in front of him, holding back a sigh. It truly was a glowing review of this young man. While his grades from the aforementioned college weren’t the highest, especially in classes one might consider important for an institute of planar research, the two letter of recommendations he submitted from teachers of his explained how Burnsides was very persistent when he wanted to learn something he didn’t know. He also had taken quite a few classes regarding vehicles- not enough to claim the young man was an expert but enough to provide a solid basis to show him how things worked and could be repaired on the ship.

The kid’s attitude was something of a breath of fresh air in this place. However, there was one glaring concern.

“I was also a bit concerned about the criminal record we have on file for you. Assault and battery as well as the indecent exposure and public-”

“In my defense for the second one, I was drunk with some friends and maybe thought it’d be funny to streak in the lake. Who hasn’t been to a party that gets a little out of hand.” He holds his hands out as if to say “am I right?”

Off the record, Davenport is inclined to agree that he was right. On the record, he is choosing to ignore it. “And the assault and battery? The file says it was in defense of a young person.”

Burnsides grins, “that’s how I got hired as the bouncer!”

He waits a moment, expecting Magnus to continue. When it seems the young man is assuming that is enough explanation, he prompts, “by beating up a man outside the club?”

“Yeah! He was harassing someone outside, and I was walking home and passed by. I told him to step off, and he didn’t. So I decked him, and he was out right away.”

It lined up with the records he had, and honestly, seeing someone so ready to step up to the defense of a stranger was a good quality. Better than some of the older applicants who were much more… formal in their training. He wonders briefly how Burnsides would react to an altercation against someone with magic.

Glancing down at his records, he guesses he would run headfirst without thinking.

Stifling a small grin, Davenport continues, “Now, tell me. Assume we’re up in space, and something goes wrong with the bond engine. What would your course of action be, Mr. Burnsides?”

Merle Hitower Highchurch. 214. Cleric; Specialization in botany, religion, and medical treatment.

Previous experience: Current botanist at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration. Professor of botany at Narvick’s University for four years.

Criminal Record: Multiple counts of loitering.

The door is pushed all the way open before Davenport can even call out the next person.

A short dwarf slides into the room with a wide grin, “hey Dav!” A mug of tea is pressed into his hands.

“Hello, Merle. You do know this needs to be at least a little formal, yes?”

“Formal schmormal. Ask me your silly questions already, bud.” Merle Highchurch, resident botanist at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration, plops right down in the seat he’d taken to commandeering once a week, for the past three weeks.

Davenport had seen him around before, but a botanist in an institute designed for exploring other planes that had little capabilities to actually go to those places yet was rarely busy, and even more rarely called upon. He still barely knew the guy, but after the day they’d gotten stuck in the elevator for ten minutes when it broke down, the dwarf had come to his office for tea each Wednesday.

It was a bit strange, but the tea was good.

“Tell me about your work experience.”

Merle laughs heartily, “they barely have me do anything around here, ‘cept tend to the couple of plants they’ve grabbed from the ground plane.”

“It’s the Elemental Plane of Earth, and don’t sell yourself short, Merle. This is basically a job interview, you know.”

Merle slurps loudly at his own mug, “aren’t you planning on nepotism hiring me, because we’re buds?”

“That isn’t even what that word means, Merle.”

“Isn’t it?”

Davenport stares into the tea, “is this made from the Earth plant?”

“Maybe?”

Davenport. 276. Captain and navigator; Specialization in mechanical engineering and arcane components combined with contemporary technology.

Previous Experience: Crewmate on the Lady Blue for twenty years. Graduated from Grensville University. Current staff at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration.

Criminal Record: Unlawful resistance of orders from captain, raising of commotion on board ship while employed.

Davenport handed the six files over to Selune, “These are them.”

The halfling woman flips through them, eyebrows raising higher with each one she sees. “You’re sure you grabbed the right ones? A few of these I understand, but you do know we had the Issaiah Broler apply.”

He folds his hand in front of him, nodding. “I also know that during the interview he made me want to pour my tea on his lap. There’s no chance of getting the bond engine going with him. These are the six I picked. They’re all qualified- and the ones that are less educated in the specifics in the field I’m sure will pick up on the important information quickly. The Taaco twins already will give the bond engine a huge boost. Ms. Lucretia will ensure we have everything chronicled, something I’m sure you can appreciate, Selune. Mr. Bluejeans previous work shows he will thrive given the opportunities awaiting us. Mr. Highchurch is an educated man, and I trust him to keep the crew healthy and provide ample information on anything botany related we encounter, and I’m certain Mr. Burnsides will provide ample help in any task we show him how to do.” He sighs, glancing out the window of her office. There were a few people lingering outside in the courtyard of the Institute. “We have been given a tremendous opportunity to explore beyond what we can imagine, Selune. The last thing I want is to be bogged down by people stuck in their ways, who have been working in this field long enough to have their preconceived notions about what to expect and who will react badly when they’re proven wrong. I trust my own judgement in picking a crew, and I hope you trust my abilities to get these people ready to set sail in four months.”

What he doesn’t say is that he doesn’t want a bunch of stuffy jackasses on his ship. He’s not even sure picking all the over-qualified people would pass through the higher-ups' inspection of the crew. The people he picked were qualified enough to get a quick sign-off, but not too much. Anyone “overqualified” would probably get rejected. The ship had been built in basically six months. It’d get them off the ground, sure. It wasn’t going to explode on them once they got up there, but it wasn’t safe. There was a reason Davenport was the captain at all.

The six candidates in those files didn’t have a name for themselves as “important” to any stuffy scientific group or noble family. These people he picked were just that- people. A group of people who he believed deserved this opportunity. If anyone was getting the chance to make a name for themselves- to have the chance to redefine everything they know about the planar systems, he wanted to make sure they deserved the chance. A dangerous chance, sure. But what was science if not a little risky.

She sighs, opening the file on top. Her hand reaches for her pen, “Davenport, I got the final say on the name of the ship, I suppose the least I can do is give you final say on the crew.” She begins to write ‘approved’ at the top of the file, flipping through each one before giving him a pointed look. “But when I get angry calls about how you approved a bunch of nobodies and two people not even old enough to drink, I’m transferring them straight to your crystal.”

“And I will not be answering a single one.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to, Captain.”