#and we broke up right after watching Black Friday some time after it had come out

[yaminerua]

God I love the hatchetfield shows starkid has done. I just got done watching nerdy prudes must die and I am emotionally compromised on a number of levels but man was it an enjoyable ride;;;

[ihatedtoadmit]

A biteful memory [2]

pairing: OT8 x fem!reader

genre: werewolf AU, fluff, crack

warnings: Please read the 'Summary' of this series, all are listed there!

word count: ~3.6k

summary: You finally meet Felix's gang face-to-face, and it's safe to say that you're feeling a bit out of place, especially thanks to one person and his constant glaring.

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All rights reserved. Please do not steal, repost or feed my work into AI. Thank you!

The male’s hair was at shoulder length, the sun shining warmly on its black strands. He had porcelain skin, just like Felix, but without the starry freckles. This had to have been Hwang Hyunjin, the artistic hottie the whole university was talking about. His doe eyes widened at the sight of me, flicking down to the aussie.

“Damn, you didn’t say she was taller than me.” “Hyunjin!” “What? It’s cool, can’t wait to see the shorties’ reactions.” - Hyunjin laughed out, his dark eyes meeting mine again and turning gentler. “I’m Hwang Hyunjin, nice to meet the person who has our little Lixie in her hold.” - he held out a hand for me that I hesitantly grabbed as I introduced myself. “But uh…I don’t, have Lixie in my hold?” “Oh? Are you sure? Becau–” - but before he could finish his sentence, Felix slapped a hand onto his mouth, silencing him with a deadly glare.

I just stared as the two now wrestled with each other playfully, reminding me of siblings. I let what the artist had said go, knowing that it could never be true anyway. It sounded hilarious even.

Not wanting things to somehow turn worse and ugly, I grabbed Felix off of Hyunjin, holding him close to myself.

“Stop it now, we didn’t come here to fight. Especially if I’m the reason for it.” - I scolded him, causing him to immediately turn lax in my hold and deny my statement. “We weren’t really fighting. Now, let’s go in, before you try to escape again.” - at his remark I glanced at the gate, but I noticed Hyunjin’s amused stare he shot at me and immediately gave up the thought of escaping.

It wouldn’t work anyway.

We waddled back up to the door, Felix free from my hold as I lingered behind the two, looking at the ground and wishing I had never asked to hang out on a friday. It was only logical they would have some kind of program to hang out on that particular day, something that somehow completely eluded my mind.

The door opened and we walked in, the sunshine incarnate telling me where I could put my shoes, jacket and backpack. I followed his instructions obediently, letting him lead me past a big, open kitchen towards the stairs. We then walked through a hallway that was littered with doors, until he stopped at one near the end.

“You can use this guest room while you’re here, nobody will barge in here, don’t worry. Come back down after you’re done, ‘kay?” - with that, Felix left after I nodded at him.

I watched his leaving form for a few more seconds before turning back towards the door, finally opening it and setting my eyes on the room’s interior.

Holy shit.

This was a guest room?? Shit was as big as a whole ass apartment!

There was a king sized bed resting at one of the walls, a neat little nightstand next to it. On the opposite wall was the biggest wardrobe I had ever seen, all made out of beautiful, dark oak with intricate designs carved into it. Symbols of flowers and animals could be seen, although I would definitely need to take some time to see it all properly. There was a table with a comfy-looking swivel chair as well, along with a few small bookshelves sprinkled onto the walls. As I turned to my left a bit, my breath hitched, floor to ceiling high glass panes greeting me with the view of the forest that resided behind their house. Different types of trees peeked over each other, pines and oaks mingling together in a cacophony of green.

It was breathtaking.

After marvelling for probably a worrying amount of time, I broke out of my haze and finally put down my backpack, fishing out my comfier clothes to change into. Because these tight, black jeans I currently had on were anything but that.

When I was done and hopefully still looking decent, I walked back down and into an even bigger room where the others sat, thankfully now fully clothed. The place was decked out with the biggest TV I had ever seen, with a sound system to match. There were plenty of seats to choose from, an enormous L-shaped couch resting between two, cosy looking loveseats. In front of me, at the back of the room, were floor to ceiling glass panes, two of them being lockable doors that lead to that same forest that resided behind the house.

Jesus christ, I felt so out of place in my cheap clothes and untamed appearance.

“Lixie, if you glare at them any harder, they will dig a hole into the floor just to escape it.” - Hyunjin laughed out loud, snapping my attention back to the boys. “Well, they would deserve it to be honest.  Sigh  Either way, this is Changbin and Jisung.” - he introduced us to each other, prompting the boys to greet me and bow in a way too low angle.

I tried greeting them back, but the inappropriate sight of them kept popping up in my mind whenever I looked at the two, rendering me a stuttering mess as I just covered my face with my hands and crouched down, my knees loudly popping in response. Laughter broke out around me, Lixie’s somewhere in it too, but I was too flustered to pay attention properly.

Who the fuck meets someone half-naked??

“Hey, please, as funny as it is, you know you shouldn’t be crouching. C’mon, sit down with me?” - Felix came to my rescue as I peeked up at him through my fingers, still too embarrassed to face them fully.

I let him drag me to a loveseat, where he gently pushed me down and nestled into my lap, no questions asked.

“I don’t think she’s gonna survive this night, her ears are already so red!” - Jisung laughed out once again, causing everyone to join in.

He was right, to give him where credit was due, Felix’s action had caught me completely off-guard as he had never done this before. Mostly because I was still uncomfortable with hugs, because trust me, he had tried in the past plenty of times. But strangely, as much as it flustered me, his action and presence also calmed me down. So, I willed my arms to close loosely around his middle, my head resting on top of his fluffy nest of hair. You could practically feel his happiness in response, how he leaned against me even more with all his weight.

Everyone looked at us, causing me to stiffen up in defence.

“What?” - I glared back at them, tightening my hold on the boy in my arms. “Nothing, nothing.” - Jisung said with held up arms, surrendering. “Yea, we just see why Lixie likes you so much now.” - Changbin did the same, joining in with Jisung.

I raised an eyebrow at that. That was the second time they’d said that Felix liked me a lot, something that was hard for me to believe with my zero self-confidence.

“Does he now?” - I murmured, glancing down at the lax boy in my arms. “When are the others coming?” - he asked instead, ignoring my question altogether, but I didn't really mind.

I listened to them as they spoke with each other, occasionally joining in when a question was directed at me after Felix grabbed my hands and disinfected them. I didn't even notice I’d scraped them, the scars so small and unnoticeable. Even so, he insisted that I let him clean the skin, and who was I to deny his doe-eyed request.

It was strange.

Usually, I wasn’t this comfortable in strangers’ presence, yet, here I was, having an okay time sitting in the same room as them, occasionally exchanging a few words with each other. The remaining boys had arrived one by one as well, joining us in the living room once they’d freshened up and changed into some comfier clothes. They had all greeted me and I’d waved back at them from behind Felix, who hadn’t moved away from me, not even once over the course of these past few hours. Most of the boys had amusement swimming in their eyes once they’d noticed us and our position, some even allowing a small smile to sneak itself onto their lips. It was fascinating to watch, a silent telltale sign that my friend wasn’t like this usually.

“What’re we watching?” - one of them asked, Seungmin, I believed. “We haven’t really chosen yet.” - Hyunjin replied, seemingly bored as he draped himself over their youngest, who I only knew because we were in the same semester, although in different majors. “Why don’t you choose something, hm?” - Felix asked me as he patted my hand and I was immediately struck with the urge to disappear, all heads now turned towards me. “I uh, I dunno, I’m fine with anything?” “Oh come ooon, surely you have a favourite movie!” - Jisung whined, entirely too comfortable in my presence.

That was the other strange thing. Everyone seemed to be behaving as if I was an old time friend -and i hoped that was the case-, except for one of them, Minho. His gaze on me was cold and calculative, as if he was ready for me to commit a grave sin against them. But he was only occasionally peering into my soul, as he masked it well in front of the others, hiding it from them. I involuntarily held Felix closer to me a bit, scared.

“On a second note, wasn’t it Innie’s turn to choose?” - Felix redirected the attention from me thankfully, causing chaos to erupt as they playfully argued and eventually settled on a movie, although it was a hard fight.

On a horror one, of course it was a horror movie.

“I’ll go and get some snacks with the others, mkay?” - he murmured, patting my arms so I would let him go. “Okay. Also, uh, where’s the bathroom?” - I murmured back, slightly anxious now that he was out of my hold.

He gave me clear instructions with a small smile and I followed them, happy to finally relieve and freshen myself up. Checking myself in the mirror as I was washing my hands, I tucked a few strands of hair back into their supposed place and turned my necklace around, so the clasp was at the back of my neck. I knew I looked terrible, especially amongst these popular people, urging me to put this and that in its place, straighten my clothes out here and there. It was of no use, of course, but I couldn’t help it.

Walking out of the bathroom, I went back to the living room, only to be met with a strange sight.

Felix was in the hold of a giggling Chan, pouting. In one of the loveseats was a delighted Hyunjin with an absolutely done Jeongin in his arms. In the other seat were Jisung and Minho, seemingly in their own world, something I was secretly grateful for. That left the aussies, Seungmin and Changbin on the big couch, with an empty space left.

A space left for me, undoubtedly, unless I wanted to sit on the carpeted floor boards.The thought didn’t sound as bad as one would think, since I used to do that a lot when there wasn’t enough space for me and my friends on the sofa. I didn’t mind it, really.

Not wanting to deal with that whole chaos just yet that was in front of my eyes, I sauntered over towards the kitchen, desperate to have a glass of water. I'd forgotten to drink ever since coming here, a bad habit of mine that I couldn’t manage to fix so far. Looking around for glasses, I spotted them in a windowed cabinet. I gently grabbed one, closing the door quietly and filling the glass with water from the tap. At this point, I was so parched that even the room temperature water felt heavenly, urging me to gulp it down as fast as I could.

Wiping my face with my sleeves, I sighed as I knew I couldn’t stall for more time and had to go back.

As soon as I was in his peripheral, Felix greeted me and shoved Changbin away onto a very displeased Seungmin, patting the now newly created empty seat for me. I shifted from one foot to the other, lips pursed as I looked at the short, buff male with uncertainty. He huffed and muttered something under his breath, causing Chan to gasp and berate him over it. But even then, Changbin looked at me with a small smile and motioned towards the seat with his head, telling me it was okay to sit there.

So I did, even though I was sure it wasn’t okay with all of them.

And thus, the movie night began.

Snacks were passed around, along with drinks -alcoholic and not-. I occasionally had some, juice being more than enough for me, besides, I had always been hesitant to consume things offered up by someone else. That was how I’d always worked, my long time friends needing to beat it into me that it was fine to eat their offered up food. 

Everything was great, until the first jumpscare happened. I lightly jerked in my place, stiff and hopeful that nobody had noticed.

I was horrible with jumpscares.

Scary, creepy atmosphere? I was fine with it. But put anything in front of me fast enough and I would have a heart attack, may it be a rotting corpse or a cute plushie.

Nobody seemed to have noticed me, so I really thought I was fine.

I wasn’t.

Jumpscares kept happening throughout the whole movie, causing Felix to put a hand on my thigh in a soothing manner. Although at first it had the opposite effect, his touch causing me to jump and almost collide into Changbin, almost. I could hear a laugh being stifled, but I was too on edge to care whom it was from.

And just when I thought I was in the clear, finally free from this curse, I felt air blown onto my ear as the credits were rolling, causing me to let out a loud yelp. With a hand on my heaving chest, I looked next to me to find a wheezing Seungmin, no doubt the cause of it all. The others joined in with his laughter, even Felix was having fun over my misery.

“Alright, that’s enough, otherwise we’ll scare her away and then Lixie will be angry.” - Chan chuckled out, earning Felix’s approval from his arms.

I pursed my lips and settled back into my place, crossing my arms and looking at the TV, waiting for the next movie to start.

“Wait, are you pouting right now?” - Felix asked in disbelief as I just looked away from him, refusing to answer. “Oh my god, you totally are! Big baby is pouting! Someone, take a picture for me!” - he continued, not even giving me a chance to stop before I heard several camera shutters going off, causing my eyes to widen.

I couldn’t believe him, what a friend I had.

I looked back at him in betrayal, flustered as I realised what he had just called me. Unable to look at him or any of the others at this point, I covered my face with my hands and rested my elbows on my legs, wanting to just disappear magically, as if that could ever happen.

“I fucking hate you guys.” - I muttered out, not changing my position in the slightest. “That means she loves you, don’t let it fool you.” “Especially you, Felix.” “Love you too~”

After everyone had their fun teasing me -and believe me, they had-, they started a new movie, giving me a chance to finally lean against the back of the sofa comfortably and let out a silent sigh of relief. It was an action movie this time, no jumpscares to rattle me, thankfully.

The hours went by as we watched movie after movie, some of the boys gradually falling asleep, until it was only me and Chan awake, Felix peacefully snoring away in his hold. Changbin just decided to lean onto me at one point and I was too socially awkward to do anything about it, so I just let him snooze away there, cursing him for not leaning in the other direction where his menace of a friend slept.

“Thank you, by the way.” - Chan’s gentle voice reached my ears, causing me to look at him in confusion. “For being there for Felix.” - he successfully cleared my confusion with even more confusion. “I didn’t do anything. In fact, I could have done more, especially in the last week or so…” - I whispered out, afraid of voicing my mistakes out loud in front of Felix's protective friend. “We know it’s hard to be our friend, especially in uni. We all see some of the looks our so called fans and admirers give to anyone who so much as speaks to us, and yet, here you are. You had the chance to not let Lixie get close to you, talk with you. But you persisted, even after trying to distance yourself. So thank you, for making him this happy, for being his friend.”

My eyes drifted towards the freckled male’s sleeping form, how he lightly scrunched up his nose and turned in Chan’s hold, only to grab onto him tighter, as if he was his lifeline.

“I never really cared for people, what they thought of me. Sure, the stares can get under your skin, but what does it matter? I’m already normally stared at, be it for my height, for how I dress or for how I look. It's just more intense now, that's all. Really, I’m the one who's thankful here. Felix braved through the cold and harsh facade I put up, determined to befriend me, and I couldn’t be happier about it. My life was dull, washed out before meeting him, but now it’s bright and warm. So thank you, for letting him be my friend.” - I smiled at Chan’s dark silhouette, unshed tears clinging onto my waterline.

The darkness of the night gave me a sense of safety, fogging up my mind and letting me speak of my true feelings.

“Gosh, you’re even sweeter than he said. You’re always welcome here, okay? Now let’s get these kids to sleep.” - he said as he passed a sleeping Felix into my arms, the boy immediately latching onto my clothes.

He gathered Changbin into his own hold, the male mumbling something, but remaining asleep. Chan looked at him with utter adoration, as if he was his own blood, something that didn’t go unnoticed by my tired eyes.

“Oh yeah, Lixie’s room is on the second floor, third door on the right. You can sleep in the room next door, since it’s a guest room, but I guess he’d already told you that, haha. Have a good night.” - and with that, he left, leaving me blinking at his leaving form until I couldn’t see it in the dark.

Well… I guess I had no choice now.

Positioning the sleeping boy in my hold so his legs were wound around my waist, I gently held onto his thighs and back and slowly stood up, not wanting to drop him or topple over like the tower I was. Finding myself stable, I made careful steps towards the faint shape of the staircase, carefully making my way up on it. It was a slow journey, but I wasn’t about to risk breaking my friend’s back open on the hard edge of a stair, no thanks.

But how did Chan go up and down so fucking fast? It was pitch black…

Eventually, I made my way to Felix’s room. Opening it was a bit tricky, since I had my hands full, but I managed. All the while I could hear Chan moving about, no doubt placing everyone else in their rooms so they wouldn't wake up with a sore neck. I found it endearing, how they cared so much and so openly for each other, in my presence. Looking around in the darkness, I somehow made out the bed’s silhouette after straining my eyes, slowly placing the boy in my hold onto it.

Now that, that was a war in itself.

In his sleep, he had somehow linked his legs together, so he was latched onto me in every possible way. No matter how much I tugged on his arms or legs, he just wouldn’t fucking let go. So with the heaviest sigh I could produce, I grabbed my bag that I had put into the guest room when I'd arrived here and blindly searched around for my toothbrush. Having successfully secured it, I secured my hands around Felix’s sleeping form once more and trudged into his own bathroom -which was, again, hard to find in the dark-, intent on washing my teeth before sleeping. At least let me have this, since I couldn’t shower or change into pyjamas…

After successfully suffering through that and not spitting on the sleeping boy accidentally, I went back to his bed and laid down. Felix wiggled around a bit, as if he sensed that we were finally on a bed and laid on top of me, legs latched onto mine.

He was a cuddlebug, alright.

Next chapter

Taglist: @meowmeeps @michelle4eve

[daisyblog]

Chapter 3: Evie

Show Me Love Summary

Trigger warnings:  18+, anxiety, strong language, undiagnosed/struggling with learning difficulty

< Chapter 2

Evie

Monday morning had to be the worst part of the week. After a two day break, it seemed like a tease that the alarm was going off again. But I suppose a 10am start was better than 9. Despite Friday night being a little rocky with me drinking myself to the point of needing Harry's help, and bed, the weekend had been nice. 

Harry and I went to the bands night, and it was the most fun I'd had in a while. We talked, laughed, danced and sang our hearts out. I liked him before Saturday night, and the way he allowed me to be myself just made me fall a little more. We'd been messaging back and forth since and I was enjoying whatever was happening right now. 

It was tempting for me to lay in bed longer and scroll through my phone. But I fought the urge to look at what others were doing with their morning, and concentrated on what I was doing with my own. 

I used the time to self-care. I'd showered, washed my hair using my new products that Bella had recommended to me. My hair was grateful to be left down and loose, instead of being thrown up messily on top of my head due to the lack of time I had. 

The autumn weather outside had me opting for some dark grey trousers, paired with a white t shirt and layering with a grey jumper over the top. Being loyal my black trusty converse were chosen. Before picking up my bag, my favourite Zara perfume was sprayed and for once I felt prepared. 

I was alone in the flat this morning. Bella had stayed with Zayn over the weekend, and Lily explained she was going into uni early to study ahead of her exam this week. Checking the time as I walked down the street, I was pleasantly surprised to see it was only 9:40. 

Placing my earphones in as I walked, the sound of The Kooks playing into my ears, caused me to a skip in my step. 

"She moves in her own way". I mumbled the lyrics to myself, before noticing I had nearly reached the building. 

I felt like I had only just lived this moment as I entered the building and climbed the daunting stairs, taking my earphones out and making my way to the class. 

Walking down the long hallway, I manoeuvred through the groups of students who were lingering around. Reaching the classroom door, I stopped in my tracks as I was greeted with an empty room and no life in sight. 

I pulled my phone out from my pocket and quickly sent a message to Niall, checking that we did have a class this morning. The sound of my phone, broke me from my thoughts. 

Niall:  The class got cancelled about 10 minutes ago, we had an email. Me and Harry are in the library, come and join us! x 

I thought about avoiding the library and heading back home, and wasting my day with extra sleep and possibly watching reruns of Friends. But knowing Harry was there, it was tempting for me. 

I scanned the room that was filled with rows of bookshelves, there were other students scattered around as they studied. I was about to give up looking, but then I spotted them tucked away in the corner, both talking as their fingers typed away on the keyboards. 

Niall noticed me first, he wore a big smile on cheeks as I walked towards them. "Green girl!". His accent dragging the 'i' out, making a few people turn to see who was making the noise. 

"Horan boy!". I mocked, as I placed my bag down on the table and pulled out the chair beside Harry. I could sense his eyes on me as I felt the ripple through my stomach. "Hi!". 

Harry wore a slight smirk as he watched me sit down next to him. "Hi!". There was an atmosphere between us and I secretly liked it. The thrill of knowing something was happening but still being kept in the dark. 

After pulling out my notebook and a few pens and highlighters from my bag, I glanced at Niall and took a double glance when I saw his eyes squinting as he looked between Harry and I. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?". I questioned, feeling a little insecure as his eyes burned into mine. 

"What the fuck was that?". He questioned us, but Harry's attention never left his laptop as he carried on typing. "Hi!". Niall mocked us. 

"It's a way of saying hello Niall...you know when you greet someone". I sassily replied, a tad of attitude in my voice. Harry rubbed his finger under his nose as he tried not to reveal his smirk. 

Niall folded his arms as he sat back in his chair. "Pfft!...what do you think I am...stupid?". I raised my eyebrows in banter, knowing Niall and I had the friendship to do so. "You two went out last night...so what's going on?". 

I didn't give Harry a chance to find his voice. "Oh waw...a boy and girl hung out by themselves once...that must mean they're fucking". Harry must have been surprised by my bluntness because he choked on his breath and coughed into his hand. 

"Nobody said anything about fucking Green...but the tension between you two...waw!". Niall playfully bit back, as he gave me a knowing grin. "I'm watching you two". 

"What are you both doing anyway?". I gestured towards their laptops as I could see a few documents open on Harry's screen. 

"We have an assignment due in a couple of weeks for the marketing module...so we're starting it early". Harry took a break from typing to explain to me, stretching his arms up exposing his lower tummy. I looked away quickly not wanting to be caught starting at the ink. 

"Sounds like another all nighter for me the day before". I picked up the pink highlighter and began to doodle on the notepad laid on the table. 

"And you still manage to get a high mark!". Niall complimented, before continuing. "Imagine if you started now, you'd get like an eighty or higher". 

At the conversation turning to talk about my grades, my right leg began to bounce in anxiety as it reminded me of the many conversations my parents had with me. 

"Believe me..I wish I could motivate myself to just get the assignments done early but I can't concentrate". I was honest. I'd tried to start assignments early in the past and I'd end up getting distracted by a sound outside or scrolling through Instagram, and by the time I'd noticed I'd lost interest in it. 

"Perhaps set yourself a challenge...for every hundred words you write...give yourself a break or watch your favourite series for half hour". Harry suggested next to me, Niall nodded his head in agreement. It sounded like a great idea, but the reality of it would be I'd give myself the reward without writing any words. 

"I suppose...I just haven't got the will power". I dramatically laid my head and arms on the table in defeat. 

"I can help you, if you'd like". Harry suggested with a shrug, like it was nothing and not him offering to give up some time to help me. My eyes stared in happiness, the thought of someone wanting to help me without strings attached was a new feeling for me. 

"Oh for fucks sake, will you two just fucking kiss and get it over with!". Niall moaned as he threw a crumpled up piece of paper at Harry. 

Harry picked the ball of paper up and playfully threw it back and hit Niall on his head. "Fuck off Ni!". I rolled my eyes, still drawing doodles on the paper in front of me, thinking how I should have been tucked up under my duvet watching Friends. "Ever heard of being kind and helping others?". 

"I have...so let's go and get some lunch before you two end up eating each other". I watched as he closed his laptop lid and placed it in his rucksack, Harry following suit. "C'mon Green...you're coming too". 

I locked eyes with Harry, as I quickly rushed to put my notebook and pens into my own bag not wanting to keep them both waiting. But catching me off guard and earning a blush on my cheeks was when he leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Good thing he doesn't know about us cuddling". 

My head spun around and was grateful that Niall was already walking ahead of us. Not wanting to be the centre of more teasing. 

---

Friday had appeared quickly and as much as the week had been quiet, I was glad to see it arrive. Bella, Lily and I had planned a girls day for tomorrow and I was excited to spend some time with them both. 

Harry and I had been texting back and forth most of the week. The conversation had moved on from just talking about music and sending each other songs that we wanted the other to listen to, and it felt like we were getting to know one and other. 

Whenever my phone pinged, I was like an excited teenager again grinning at it because my crush had replied to me. But as soon as the excitement came, so did the overthinking. Was Harry just texting as a friend? Did he feel sorry for me? Does he even want to talk to me or is he too nice to not reply? The thoughts circled me and it was hard to push them away. 

The sound of my phoned pinged as I laid on my bed, I picked it up expecting to see Harry's name but instead I'd been added to a group chat. 

SQUAD Bella, Lily, Evie, Zayn, Louis, Harry, Niall, Liam

Bella💕 This GC should have happened a long time ago!! Hi besties! Me and Zayn are thinking of going to mini golf tonight, any of you bitches fancy it???

Lily🌸 I'll come!💜

Louis T Oioi! Count me in lads!! 

Liam P I'm going home this weekend, got a family party. But have fun!!

Niall Boring Payno!! Can't wait to show you all how it's done ⛳️ 

Evie Yesssss!🥰

Harry I'll be there! 

Bella💕 Sucks to be you Li! Maybe next time?!✌🏼Great, I've booked it for 7pm xx

I checked the time at it was already 5:07, meaning I needed to hurry and get ready. Usually I'd throw on some jeans and t shirt for a last minute plan, but tonight I wanted to impress a green eyed man, with curls. 

I pulled my loose off grey mom jeans from the hanger along with a long sleeved black top, that was slightly cropped and my black and adidas trainers screamed at me to be worn. I added a slight wave to my already curled hair and tidied up my make up from earlier. Adding a bit more blush to my pink cheeks and some lip balm to my lips.

I couldn't help but wonder where Lily was. I knew Bella was over at Zayn's, so she would probably meet us there. I wondered down the hallway of the flat and coincidentally Lily walked out from her room. 

"Ooo Evie! You're looking hot girl!". Lily's voice went high pitched. I looked down at my outfit and for once I felt good in my skin. I liked how I looked and I was happy with my outfit choice. 

"Says you! I love that jumper!". Lily was wearing a loose black jeans that hugged her figure nicely, and paired it with a Nike hoodie and her black converse. 

Our front door unlocking caused me to turn with worry. But seeing Bella was a relief. "Oh good you're ready...come on we'll all walk together". 

The place was a short walk away from our flat and I couldn't stop my eyes from sneaking glances at Harry as he walked alongside Louis and Niall. He was wearing a simple outfit, a black jumper and black trousers and his feet covered with the same trainers as mine. His hair was pushed back with a slight wave to it.

I was always distracted, but lately I felt like my only distraction was Harry. He was always on my mind, or if he was near my eyes would find him instantly. 

"Evie?". Bella's chirpy voice broke me from my thoughts and my eyes tore away from Harry as they found her walking now slightly in front of me and Lily. "Did you hear me? Maybe we could go back to the pub for a few drinks after golf? Nothing crazy, just a casual drink".

"Yeah...uh yeah sounds good to me". I tried to keep with the conversation that was bouncing between Bella, Zayn and Lily right now, afraid they would notice my attention was occupied by something else. Or someone should I say.

Once we were at the golf venue, Bella got everything organised with the lady behind the counter who placed us into two groups. Bella, Zayn and Lily being one. Niall, Louis, Harry and I being the other. 

The room was slightly dark, the only light were from the LED lights that were scattered around to cause the glow in the dark effect. 

From the first few rounds, I had become the entertainment for the boys, in particular Niall and Louis as it was evident that I could hit the golf ball everywhere other than in the hole. 

I watched as Niall took his turn, he held the club in his hands and softly swung it so it hit the white ball gently. My eyes followed it as it rolled with ease and landed in the hole further away. 

"Well that's what I'm fucking doing, but it just goes the other way". I explained, frustration in my voice and starting to get irritated with the game. I was close to giving up and just watching the others. "This game is rigged...the three of you are cheating or something!". 

"It's not rigged...I think you're putting too much pressure on yourself". Louis tried to explain as he stood in the spot ready for his turn. "Just relax before you swing". Once again, the ball swiftly landed in the hole. 

I found Harry's eyes, knowing it was my turn next. "You can take your go...I give up". I had already made my mind up, I'd rather watch the others have fun than drain them from it. 

"Oh c'mon Green! We're not letting you give up". Niall gave me a look, one I knew that he was serious. "Give it another try". 

"I'll help you". Harry walked over and began to show me how to hold the club. "Place your hand here..and the other one further down". I moved one hand to the top of the club and the other slightly down like he had explained. 

"So what do I do now?". I asked, not wanting to move incase I messed my position up. 

"Now just swing". Niall spoke up as he and Louis stood next to each other. 

"Gently!". Louis added. 

I looked down at the ball that laid still on the spot, waiting for me to make my move. But two hands appeared from behind me, landing on top of my own. My back had company as I felt him stand behind me. My senses were weighed as I could feel his hands on mine and the smell of his vanilla aftershave filled my nostrils at how close we were. But the sound of his voice in my ear, made my heart beat with extra rhythm. 

"Slowly bring the club up and then gently hit the ball". His voice tickled my neck as he spoke into my ear. I could feel my once tense shoulders ease as he swung our arms together. I watched the ball slowly roll, and just like that it disappeared into the hole.

I felt a sudden wave of coldness as he took a step back, but as I turned to face him I was met with a slightly smirk. But before I could process that Harry had helped me to put the ball, Niall picked me up and cheered. "SHE DID IT! WOOHOOO!".

I couldn't hide the smile that filled my face as Niall put me back down. But I was aware that his loud voice and the sound of excitement had caused others to stare. 

"Who knew a little cuddle from Styles was all she needed to relax". Niall playfully gripped Harry's shoulder, almost praising him. "Imagine what a kiss could do". 

"Alright that's enough!". Harry stopped the teasing as Niall and Louis shared a glance before they walked on to the next round. 

I looked up at Harry's taller frame as we walked together. "Thank you..for you know...helping". Suddenly I felt conscious that others had seen another side to us. 

"Anytime love...I keep to my promise of helping you". The large smile on Harry's face was full of truth and that's all Evie needed to hear right now. 

---

The walk to the pub involved Niall, Louis and Bella bickering back and forth at who won, who was the best at golf, how they were going to be a team next time and see who the real winner was. If I was being honest, after listening to the three of them I was ready for the drink that sat in front of me on the table.

Tasting the fruity cider run down my throat was relief from the warm atmosphere of the pub. I glanced around the table, but instantly frowned when I noticed Harry was missing. 

"He's gone to the toilets". Niall spoke from the seat next to me. I cursed at myself because was it that obvious that I was looking for Harry. 

"I don't know what you're talking about". I pretended not to know who he was talking about. Not that it worked because Niall saw right through me. 

Niall chuckled to himself as he lifted up his Guinness to his mouth to take a sip before putting it back down in front of us. "Starts with H and ends with Y". 

"Happy?". The sarcasm was dripping from my mouth, as I turned to face Niall properly. His arm reached around to sit behind me, a friendly gesture that had no other meaning to it. 

"That's what you will be if you let your guard down and give Harry a chance". His once teasing tone had been replaced with a gentle and serious tone. "Have fun Eves...you deserve it". 

I thought about his words, I was always overthinking and thinking the worst case scenario. But for once I needed to take the plunge and dive in deep and like fate, Harry walked back towards our table.

---

Taglist:

[forest-hashira]

First Flight

ok per @peachdues request, here is a sneak peak of Reader's first flight with their dragon in my dragon rider au! (for context, reader & satosugu are about 14-15 here)

“Up,” you commanded, tugging at the saddle just enough to give her the necessary pressure indicator to go with the demand. The dragon lifted herself to her feet smoothly, and you glanced over to your left, where both Satoru and Suguru sat, already astride their own dragons.

The pair were both smiling at you, and Suguru nodded in encouragement as Satoru spoke. “Your time to shine, princess,” he said, a teasing lilt to his voice. “We’ll be right behind you.”

His words left you feeling a little giddy, and all you could do was nod before turning your attention back to your dragon, who was looking at you patiently over her shoulder. “Alright. Takara: tobu.”

The command had barely left your lips before her wings began to flap, her excitement obvious to everyone watching. The knowledge that you had an audience quickly faded away, though, as Takara’s wings stretched out fully, the tips of them feet above your head, even where you sat atop her back. You barely had a moment to admire the sheer size of your companion before she was launching the pair of you upwards, one downstroke of her wings strong enough to lift you both fully out of the training arena, a second carrying you even higher, rooftops and roads rapidly shrinking from sight.

Within seconds, you were breaking through the clouds, and your eyes widened as you gazed out over pure white, the sun high overhead as Takara leveled out, apparently satisfied with the height she’d reached. The pure, weightless euphoria you felt was almost too much to bear, and you felt tears filling your eyes.

After just a few seconds, Satoru and Suguru broke through the clouds with Kenji and Niji, a short distance behind where you were soaring with Takara. They took a few moments to absorb the sight of you becoming more comfortable in your saddle, sitting up straighter and loosening your grip on the handles; even though this was your first flight with the dragon, you had complete faith that she wouldn’t let you fall. They shared a glance, unable to hide the affection they felt for you from each other. A sudden, joyous laugh from you pulled their attention back, and they grinned as they urged their dragons forward to catch up with you, one of them on either side of Takara.

You turned your head to the side when you heard a familiar voice call out to you.

“Feeling good?” Satoru’s voice rang out, his toothy grin as bright white as the clouds below you. 

“I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this for so long!” you called back, another laugh escaping you at the look on his face. The laugh he let out in response had your stomach doing cartwheels.

“You’re not missing out anymore, though.” Suguru’s voice wasn’t as loud as Satoru’s, but it rang out clearly as he smiled at you. His eyes sparkled as they met yours, and the way he looked at you had you feeling flustered all of a sudden. “Now I don’t have to worry about leaving you behind when Satoru and Kenji decide to cause trouble.”

“Hey!” the white haired boy protested, scowling at his friend. “We do not cause trouble!”

“Because you are trouble!” you interjected with a grin, cutting him off before he could bicker any further. “Now, come on, I want to see how long it takes you and Kenji to catch up!”

i don't think i've mentioned this before, but reader & satosugu trained their dragons to respond to japanese commands. from what i could find, "tobu" means fly! anyways hope you guys like this, i've got some more au posting stuff in the works for you (probably not until next month tho since thanksgiving is in a few days, and also i work retail on black friday 😭)

[boiohboii]

The Tattoo Sleeve (Neymar jr soulmate au)

Warning: curse words.

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Neymar watched Y/n as she got her lunch out of her bag, it was mashed potatoes with mixed in veggies (looked like sweet pepper and onions) and chicken alongside some fruits and of course her coffee. In the past few days he had been looking over her- although, stalking is a more accurate word- he realised that she drinks an unholy amount of coffee, he watched her pour in two packets of instant coffee in one mug, that was not healthy! She's a doctor, she should know that!

He wasn't quite sure why he kept coming back to the same street of the clinic. The first time he went looking for her there, where he saw the most hilarious situation and she went through the most embarrassing situation, he stayed at a cafe nearby to clear his head from their conversation when he realised that it was midnight and she was still at work. When he finally saw her entering a car along with Doctor Monet the feeling of relief washed over him, at least she wasn't leaving at 1:30 am alone.

At that day, when he want back to his apartment at 2 am, he decided that he wasn't going to be thinking about anything related to his soulmate, he just stayed this one time to check on her and she has her boss to drive her home. There was absolutely no need for him to be worried, he doesn't even want to get to know her so why was he sitting here on a Friday afternoon looking at his soulmate from afar like a goddamn creep?

"This is stupid" Neymar mumbled as he stood up, reaching for his back pocket to get his wallet, leaving his total at the table along with a tip. Anyone passing by could tell that the man in blue puffer jacket and black jeans was in a hurry to leave, his quick movement and the screeching sound of the chair on the cobblestone floor made it clear.

"Oh, fuck off."

Neymar realised that maybe, just maybe, if he had stayed where he was that wouldn't have happened. His chair wouldn't alert everyone with a mile radius of his presence. His chair wouldn't have alerted his soulmate that he was this close to her. However, judging by the whispers that broke out, his soulmate being alerted wasn't the only issue at hand.

"Holy shit, that is Neymar Junior!"

"Do you think I can ask for a picture?"

"He is so much more handsome in real life."

Sighing, Neymar decided to smile at everyone within his sight. His smile made fans approach him, and he was fine with that, whenever he went out he was always ready to meet someone, to take a photo with someone he never saw before, he knew it was always a possibility. It annoys him sometimes, but he tries not to show it too much, he also tries to get the point across that not at anytime anyone can expect a photo with him or a signature from him.

After a few minutes, he had taken 4 photos and signed 3 shirts along with making small talk with everyone around. Now that everyone had been back in their seat, and it looked like everything was normal, Neymar looked to his right, seeing Y/n still there on her phone, not paying him any attention.

Frowning, Neymar started walking towards her without realising. He wasn't ready to have a soulmate, at least that's what he told himself, but he also wanted to know her, he wanted to see her smile, he wanted to hold her in his arms and hear her laugh. It was messing with him, he couldn't sort out his feeling, he couldn't stop and think about what he truly wanted and his actions showed it.

"Ummm, hello?" Y/n questioned as she looked up from her phone.

"Can we talk?"

"Didn't we do that already," y/n raised her eyebrows as she started recalling the conversation they had last week. "You said you didn't want to be with your soulmate, which is me, so I have no idea what you want from me right now."

"To be honest, I don't either."

There was a bitter taste on his tongue as he admitted that, he was confused and unsure of what he was doing or where anything that is currently happening would lead him, but he wanted to be there right now. That's all he knew, he wanted to be beside her and talk to her even if he didn't want a soulmate.

"Okay, listen," Y/n started "I don't know what you want, hell even you don't know what you want. So please, I am begging you do not come here and expect me to treat you all nice!"

"I thought you wanted to be with me."

"What?" Y/n asked, she hoped to anyone that would listen that her thoughts are wrong, she is just seeing the worst in him.

"Last time you said you want to be with your soulmate."

"Yeah, and that soulmate doesn't want me. You told me that! You made it clear!"

"It's just, right now I feel like I want to be with you and it's confusing me too!"

"Right now," Y/n blinked, "right now? What! Do you expect me to welcome you whenever you feel like it? What about my feelings!

Please, I am begging you, sort out your feelings and then we can talk"

Hearing the crack in her voice, Neymar felt ashamed. She was right, he couldn't just expect her to be okay with his every whim. He knows better than to do that, than to act as if he is the only person that's life will be affected by a soulmate in it.

"Hey man." Neymar greeted as he buckled his seatbelt. "Can I come over, I really messed up."

!ENEWS!

Breaking news: Neymar Jr's new girl?

Yesterday, around 5pm, the famous football player was seen with a new girl, it seemed like they were arguing according to our source. Could it be that the Brazilian player had someone this whole time? Or could there be a new love story that's about to happen?

I'm finally done with my finals!! I hope you liked it, would love to know what you all think!

Thank you for reading 💖💖💖

Taglist: @itzz-me-duh @mrs-bellingham @watersquirtpewpewboomm @ayathehater @naymersgf @angel-hyuckie @kulangngsabon @lovefks @ravenqueen27 @slytherisstuff @madelyn-grace4 @chaeryeongstuff @ateandleftnocrumbs @p1nkliquor @green--beanie

[splendidlyinlove]

What Are You Doing With Your Whole Life? How About Forever?

Pairing: Coops

Rating: Teen and Up 

Summary: Sirius hurts himself at a hockey match, so Remus finds himself back at the hospital. Things are different this time though 

Fluff, a teeny tiny bit of angst if you squint but it's resolved. 

TW: hospitals, mentions of past injuries and current injuries, depiction of being inebriated, small depiction of anxiety/PTSD 

Read it on ao3!

Remus Lupin and Sirius Black belong to JK Rowling (unfortunately) 

Coops comes from the mind of the wonderfully talented @lumosinlove <3

It was eleven at night on a Friday and Remus was sitting in a hospital waiting room, counting the specks on the tiles and bouncing his leg to a nervous beat. His hair, still wet from his post game shower occasionally dripped on the floor, haloing his shadow. Hospital rooms never got easier, he got better at coping, but they still never got easier. The sounds and smells are all too familiar to forget. Remus kept rubbing his thumb over the face of his watch, a gentle reminder of the time that had passed and the reason he was here this time. Sirius. Sirius, who got hit in just the wrong place during tonight's game. Sirius, who right now is in the room with the doctor getting his shoulder reset. 

“Mr. Lupin, right?” a man in a white coat asked, furtively scribbling a couple of notes on his clipboard before holding his hand out for a handshake. 

Remus snapped his head up and wiped his hands on his pants before standing and taking the doctor's hand. “Yes. How is he?” 

“He’s completely fine, nothing torn, fairly minor dislocation, he should be good in a couple of weeks.” The doctor gave a warm, reassuring smile, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “You can go in now if you like, but just so you know he is on some painkillers that make him a bit loopy and we had to give him laughing gas in order to reset his shoulder. The laughing gas should wear off in about thirty minutes after it does, we just want to do one more check on him and then you guys are good to go.” 

Remus let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. “Thank you so much doctor.” He smiled at the man and then headed towards the room that Sirius was in. He stopped with his hand on the handle of the door listening to the muffled babbling Sirius was directing towards the nurse taking his vitals. It was half in French, half in English and completely, utterly intelligible. Remus felt his chest loosen from the worry that had been constricting his lungs for the better part of an hour. The corners of his mouth turned up at the edges while he pushed the door open. Sirius noticed him immediately, stopping his current sentence in its tracks as a slow, dopey smile spread across his face. His unfocused eyes dragged over every inch of Remus almost in reverie. 

“Hi.” Remus held the door open for the nurse as she left and then walked over to the side of the bed. He reached out his hand to brush sweaty curls out of Sirius’s face. “How are you feeling?” 

Sirius looked at Remus up and down again, a blush rose to his cheeks. “You're still wearing your suit.” He slurred as he blinked slowly up at Remus. 

Remus paused, his hand freezing between locks of Sirius’s hair. He teasingly squinted his eyes before tilting his head slightly. “Are you flirting with me?”  

Sirius immediately burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Remus chuckled along as he pulled a chair closer to Sirius's bedside and took hold of Sirius’s hand that wasn't in a sling. “But really, how are you feeling?” 

Sirius scoffed, still smiling. “Je me sens bien! Never felt better. I’m completely and totally myself” Sirius said as if it was obvious. 

Remus grinned, shaking his head slightly. “Jeez, you really are loopy.” 

Sirius broke into a dopey, sickly in love grin. “Jeez” he hummed fondly. “Wait-” Sirius eyebrows scrunched together in confused recognition. His eyes darting all over Remus’s face searching for an answer that was on the tip of his tongue before his face lit up. “Oh!” He pointed at Remus with a mischievous grin. “Loop-” 

Remus covered his mouth with his hand, fondly shushing him through chuckles while shaking his head. “I can’t believe you're making puns after dislocating your shoulder.” Remus picked up the pitcher on the table and poured water into a small dixie cup while eyeing the pretzels they left for Sirius in a small styrofoam bowl. “Here, you should really eat and drink something. It’ll help make the loopiness wear off faster. The doctor said we can’t leave until it wears off- what?” 

All joking and mischief had completely gone from Sirius's face. He was looking at Remus intently. His face inching towards Remus’s, mouth slightly agape in awe, as he brought his uninjured hand to softly caress Remus's cheek with the back of his knuckles. “Your eyes. Your eyes. Holy shit, mon dieu.” 

Remus held Sirius’s wrist as he caressed his cheek. Sirius’s thumb gently dragged across the tips of his eyelashes. “What about my eyes?” 

“They're beautiful. You’re beautiful. Do I tell you how beautiful your eyes are enough? I should tell you more. Mon loup, The color it’s…..I don't know the word in English, they're like caramel baby, caramel.” 

“Caramel? Like the candy?” 

“Oui. What's it called in English?” 

Remus let out a small, quiet laugh. “It’s called the same thing in English love.”

“Oh” Sirius said simply, resting his forehead against Remus’s, bumping their noses together. Sirius looked into Remus’s eyes for a couple seconds before meeting his lips in a soft, slow kiss. When he pulled back a faint blush had risen to his cheeks and his eyes were soft. “Je t’aime” he said, like it was the most wonderful thing in the world. 

Remus supposed it was. “I love you too.” 

“Marry me?” 

Remus bit his lip as he started to smile. “You already asked me that one.”

“No, I mean marry me again.”

“Sirius, we haven't even had our first wedding yet” Remus giggled, shaking his head in a fond disbelief, reaching up to cup Sirius’s cheek. 

Sirius shrugged with his good shoulder. “I know, but I already want to get married to you again. Marry me again?” Sirius caressed Remus’s wrist thumbing over the smooth face of his watch. 

Remus smiled. Things had changed. He wasn’t eighteen. The hospital room walls weren't trying to swallow him up anymore. The blue of the curtains didn't make him sick. The beeping of machines did not reverberate off the walls of his ribcage. The corners of his life were no longer dark. Light emanated from where Sirius lay outwards. It was eleven at night, pitch black outside, and yet the sun was still bursting through the windows. The future was still unknown, but this time he wasn't scared.  

“I suppose that can be arranged.” Remus kissed Sirius long and slow.  

[thebigbadspike]

38, 41, 99, 180, 188, 202, 213, 214, 227, 235, 236, 238, 239, 266, 268

38- do you wake up cranky?

Cranky? No. I'm usually just not awake enough after getting up to care about anything lol

41- share 2 habits

I stir my drinks with knives, not spoons

I never use people's names with them. I will use names in reference to people (when asked by another friend if I call her Buffy, my Buffy explained it pretty well. "To my face? No. In front of me? Yes." She also stated before "when Spike wants your attention he just gets your attention" when discussing with another friend that I don't use names like others do)

99- say 6 facts about your home town

1. It's small. Like... it's not technically a town. Or even a township. It's a charter township, we are technically one step above being a village

2. My hometown mostly consists of churches, liquor stores, and pizza places

3. The only thing to do there is go to the roller rink which is still the go to Friday night hang out for teens

4. Until very recently you had to drive into the city for gas

5. We have more stabbings than shootings

6. During one of the worst winter storms we were the only school district to not close, the surrounding areas made fun of us for years. And we didn't even have high enough attendance for it to count but they still made us stay the whole day

180- share a relationship story

While visiting their friends in CA for a con years ago we broke into an old abandoned zoo for cosplay pictures. We were doing punk!Lion King and even got some shots in the old lion exhibit

188- put your music player on shuffle and write the first ten songs that play

Doubt -Twenty One Pilots

Rise Above -Black Flag

Song for Ten -Doctor Who

Sleep Tight -Rhett and Link

What Do I Get? -Buzzcocks

The Devil You Know (God Is a Man) -Face to Face

Cretin Hop -Ramones

Blister in the Sun -Violent Femmes

Main Offender -The Hives

Sex and Violence -The Exploited

202- what is the first curse word that comes to mind?

Right now? Bollocks, for some reason

213- if you met me what would you do?

Tbh not much lol I'm not the most...friendly person meeting new people irl and tend to not say much, and I usually look intimidating which doesn't help put folks at ease meeting me

214: YOU have to leave me a random/ridiculous question:

What's the strangest thing in your fridge?

227- is it the thought that counts? Or is that phrase circumstancial?

Circumstancial

235- five words/phrases that make you laugh

I honestly don't really laugh much unless you wanna count those small semi amused exhales because that's usually all you'll get from me, there aren't any specific words/phrases that get me. Now if you want people who make me laugh I suggest you watch Mythical Kitchen on YouTube, Josh will make me genuinely laugh out loud

236- share a story of something that makes you smile

I got a cameo from James Marsters when we were doing OMWF and he starts it off with "I bequeath unto you the role of Spike" and it was super genuine and he talked about how playing Spike helped him deal with personal stuff and hoped it would help me the same way. He also said he was a bit jealous because I was getting to play Spike live and he never got to do that

238- what is something you used to enjoy, but was ruined for you? What's the story behind that?

Ok so you know Inkheart? The book by Cornelia Funk (not the movie that was rubbish) well I absolutely love it and had intended to read the whole series but my brother read Inkspell right before I was going to and as he was passing the book off to me he told me my favourite character gets killed. I refused to read it then and still haven't gotten myself to actually do it. I have the books...I just get so mad at my brother for telling me about their death every time I look at the books

239- describe one of the most awkward experiences of your life

In high school I was accepted into this special week long Shakespeare program where we worked for 1 week with professional Shakespearean actors from Stratford. At one point we had to do these bonding things and had to hug one of the others, you had to keep holding it until you were breathing together and say "I love you, [name]" we would mill about the room until they told us to stop and turn to the closest person and do this. I don't like saying those words and especially back then would basically refuse to say it to anyone, so having to say it was already awkward. We only did it twice but the first one one of the other kids was in the bathroom so I got paired with one of the instructors who I thought was attractive so that was awkward enough but then the second go I got paired with the girl I had a crush on 😬 the whole thing was real awkward for me

266- have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?

Honestly not sure how to answer this, I have a hard time figuring out if I have a crush on anyone really, it takes a lot of work for me to differentiate feelings like that

268- make a confession

I hate tiktok because so many people make their videos impossible for those with processing disorders to watch. I will watch the ones Buffy sends me (typically ADHD based videos) and have agreed to make tiktoks with her when I have my Hades cosplay ready, but I really hate tiktok in general

[jodilin65]

FRIDAY, MAY 31, 1991 I had a fantastic day. For starters, I went to this lake with Kim. Her grandparents live there as well as in Florida. They’ve been exactly where my parents live. We went in the paddleboat and I swam like hell, got some color. I have been dying to go swimming for ages.

From 8:00-10:00 this evening, Kim, Mark and I went to Interskate 91 and I had a blast there. I really skated up a storm, but boy did they play shitty music. I met an older man there who’s a dancer and he knows my uncle Marty. He also knows a lot of bands so he took my number.

After I gave him my number, Kim said she knew him and he’s super nice and does know a lot of people. I thought to myself, “Here goes nothing, once again.” I’m used to it, though.

My biggest and best news is that Dad’s coming up on June 6th! That’s my mom’s birthday. Ma’s not coming up, though, which is fine with me.

I haven’t forgotten about writing about past people and events in more vivid detail. I’ll get on with it, but not now as I must be up early to see Dr. Leitch.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 29, 1991 Speaking of gay women, which I noticed I last wrote about, I never did go to Northampton as Kim was tired that night. I’ve also chickened out permanently, I guess. A lot of times when you put something off long enough, you never get back into doing it and do it.

However, I called that woman Tony told me about. I spoke to her but never met her. I don’t have to. I already know I won’t be attracted to her and she was a major turn-off over the phone. Not geeky, but someone perhaps insensitive and one of those “you better be calm, quiet, and stable all the time” characters. Someone who would only want to be there through your good times and run when you’re having a bad time.

I also met a butch, and I mean a butch, who by accident, dialed my number, and I didn’t like who she was either. She too, came across instantly as one who wants you to be what she wants and can’t let people be themselves.

Kim met her too, and before this woman came over, I made up a signal. I would shake my bracelet if she were pitifully ugly. Shake my right earring if she was so-so and my left if she were gorgeous.

Of course, I knew my left earring would never get a shake.

Kim agreed with me on her character and that she was a cross between the bracelet and the right earring. Tracy K was a 0. A so-so woman’s a 5. Beautiful is 10, but this girl was a 2.

I wish I had an electric typewriter so badly. I stopped typing these journals which I really wanted to do. I had to as the keys were sticking and jamming up, forcing me to make mistakes I wouldn’t have normally made. There were not tons and tons of mistakes, but a few per page. There should’ve been a few for every 5 pages. Maybe I’ll use Kim’s but it’s a huge one. One you can’t carry easily. I’d have to use it there. That’s ok with me, though.

I have tons and tons to write about. I mean, lots of stuff, but I’m exhausted. Also, my breathing’s not too good lately. I’ll be seeing Dr. Leitch Friday. Time for antibiotics again. Also, it’s causing my yeast infection to get worse. My nose is jammed up more and I’m coughing up shit and wheezing more. I’ll write tomorrow for sure.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 22, 1991 Yes, I’ve been slacking off again with updates. Actually, I’ve been quite busy. I’ve been typing up my journals. It’ll be a long project yet a fun one. I’m already on number 2. I type pretty fast, too.

Last Saturday night Steve came up. We had a great time. He was here from 5:30 till 11:00 at night. We talked, watched a movie and he gave me $40! I was broke, too. He loved the apartment, of course.

It was weird too, as at the very beginning of May I had a prediction that May 19th was to be a great day. I had no idea at the time why and I saw blue and green. What that means is part of a new “prediction system” I’ve come up with. So far it works and here’s a list of the colors and what they represent:

Blue - calm, happy Green - money Red - pain Black - anger, irritability Gray - depression Purple - sexual desires, having sex, sexual frustrations White - nothing good, nothing bad, boredom Yellow - something new, new opportunity Orange - fear, anxiety, risky situation, bizarre adventure

When I saw blue and green for May 19th, the first thing that crossed my mind was a band, but I was doubtful. The blue really was my being happy to see Steve and the green was that $40.

Also, I described people and events at the ER. That’s right, I also told Kim there’d be a shooting in the next 24 hours. I was right.

So, the next night, Jai came up for an hour or so. That was nice, too.

Jai didn’t meet Mark, but he met Kim and they do know each other. Or I should say, they’ve seen each other here and there. Steve met Kim in Springfield before I moved, and when he was here, he met Mark.

I was up late yesterday afternoon and up all night so I don’t know when I’ll sleep. I doubt we’ll go to Northampton tonight to this gay bar. From what I’ve heard (Kim’s been there before) it’s gay night on Wed. and straight the other nights. You know how I feel and there’s no point in it. What’s meant to be is one thing and what’s not is another. I hate gay women and once you’ve seen one gay woman (butch) you’ve seen them all. I need to keep away from people and the stress they bring for a while.

FRIDAY, MAY 17, 1991 When I came out and told mom I was gay she really wasn’t too surprised. I guess a lot of people aren’t with all the “hints” a gay person drops when they’re younger. All the female idols I always had and never being enthusiastic about males. Mom, Dad, and Tammy have no problem with it. At first, however, Dad and Tammy suggested, like most people, that maybe it was due to being hurt. I simply explained that sexual attraction was one thing, and emotional is another. Also, I’ve known plenty of other girls hurt by men in the worst possible ways but they’re straight as an arrow. I told them, you don’t just go with women to go with them, you have to have attraction.

Mom, I know, was immediately thrilled. She never questioned my feelings or experiences with men. It’s obvious why, too. She knows most guys are assholes, especially in today’s world. She knows I do great at attracting losers. She also knows you can’t get pregnant from a woman. I’m not stupid. Even if it had been Tammy, they’d have gone along with it and handled it ok but they’d have been more shocked. If you gave them a choice a few years ago and asked them who they’d prefer straight, they’d say Tammy. Tammy’s not only their favorite daughter but she’s “good enough” to be a mom. That’s only in their eyes, though, cuz she’s got a rich Jewish husband. In my eyes, and many others have agreed, she’s too much like Mom.

THURSDAY, MAY 16, 1991 I got a little lazy last night so I never wrote. By 2:00 or 3:00 late last night I fell asleep. I woke up at 11:00 this morning and went grocery shopping with Kim a little later.

Right now, it is absolutely beautiful. It was horrible earlier. Too hot. My central AC took care of that though. The breeze in here is amazing. Funny how I freaked out over the breeze in my last place which is nothing compared to this. This is like my parent’s tropical island in Florida and it’s not polluted. It’s not a once-in-a-while breeze either. It’s every day and night.

Now, two more things before I get down to business. When Steve and I spoke the other night, I mentioned Kim and Mark moving out and getting a house this summer. I’ve already told him about the apartment and the town. Steve told me to talk to Peter M and I did. He sounded pleased about it. If Steve didn’t get in next door, he could afford to get a house or something else nearby. He despises Springfield too, and we miss each other.

The other thing is Tony, who I met roller skating with Kim. He was interested in me especially cuz I was shorter than him and he’s not more than 2 or 3 inches taller. He called and I told him, “I know Kim already spoke to you about my being gay and I have no problem with being friends as long as you understand that. But, I’ll make a deal and that is if I meet anyone who’s looking and who’s my height, I’ll let you know. Also, let me know if you meet any women who’re not butchy and drug-free.”

He agreed. The funny thing about it is last night I saw a vision of him calling me about someone and today he did. But guess what? I’ve really had it with second best and you know that’s all I’ll get. I’ve also had it with relationships and everything that goes along with them and I just need to be alone. I feel I’m better off, as I said before and that I’d rather fantasize about first best before I settle again and feel that great void. Realizing I was better off alone and saying, “Is this all I’m ever gonna get?” Also, she’s not into blind dates, which is understandable, so he said for me to go to one of their AA meetings.

If I speak to her, as Tony gave me her number, I’ll have to tell her no as I have no car. If she came to pick me up here, that’d still be a blind date. I would like to be friends if it’s a mutual possibility. I called and left my number with some girl who answered.

I guess Tony’s known her for quite a while and it’s funny how earlier I was thinking of all the people I’ve slept with or that wanted me that I said no to and most of them had one thing in common. They were ex-alkies. I really know how to attract ex and current alkies and a few good dope heads, don’t I? Why do half the people I meet have to be members of AA?! Well, anyway, no more stress, arguments or compromises. No more of my getting smothered by desperadoes or geeky shy wimps. No more sleeping with people I don’t feel “the spark” with and no more being dumped by the “decent” people I’m no good for.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 15, 1991 I’ve read back in my first few journals and I’ve found not only that I’ve changed so much (I already knew that), but I’m not as good at spelling as I thought. Also, my poor punctuation which I still never bother to do correctly. What I noticed, most importantly of all is the lack of detail pertaining to certain events, people or places. An example is that in my first book, the first thing I mentioned about Nervous was, “Nervous is coming over soon.” I never wrote about how we met, where, who and what he is. How he got his nickname, although, that’s quite obvious after reading not even one page about him.

What I’m now gonna do is go back over the basics of life since I moved out on my own. That was December 3rd, 1985, the day before I turned 20. I’ll run through it as briefly as possible, but with all the essential details. It’ll be quite fun and adventurous even though I’d never want to relive it. It’ll make me laugh but that’s good that it makes me laugh as a reminder of how far I’ve come in life. How much I’ve grown and learned due to experience and of course my 6th sense. As, you know, I’ve been a victim of everything except child molestation as a kid, my parents weren’t alkies or druggies and neither was I. I, of course, experimented till that time I tripped.

Some of these people have been friends, lovers, neighbors or roommates. No person I’ve slept with whether it’s been for only 1 night has been left out, but many names of non-importance have been omitted.

I think it was around February of 1985 when I was hired at the Harley Hotel as a housekeeper. I’ve had other jobs which I’ve quit. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m sick of second best.

On December 3rd of 1985, the day before I turned 20, I moved out on my own to the first floor of Locust St. I still worked at the Harley where 2-3 months later, I took in a 17-year-old girl named Michelle L. She wanted out of her home fast as she says she was molested by her father. We got along ok till she met my brother Larry. It started as Larry and I having problems and him getting in the way of Michelle and I having a good friendship. He also was cheating on his wife Sandy with Michelle. Finally, I just wanted to be alone and in order to get rid of him, I had to get rid of her. She went to live with Larry and Sandy.

Shortly after I moved upstairs, around the corner on Woodside with the same landlords, I never saw them again. A few months after I kicked Michelle out, I was fired from the Harley. After suppressing my past, the impact of my past finally caught up with me. It all came out and very very hard and got in the way of my job.

A few months later, Dad got me on SS and SSI and got a back payment of $6,100. According to my dad, my disability checks were terminated when I was 18 and they shouldn’t have been. Of course, Dad lies by telling me it’s cuz of my ear. Even back then, when I was gullible, I knew it was cuz I’m supposed to be a nut head. An unbalanced joke of society. In a way I was, but my version of that is different than theirs.

I don’t know the exact date. All I know is it was late May of 1986 when someone began to knock on my bedroom window very late at night. I believe my brother was behind it. At first, I was scared, then I became furious. One night I vowed not to give this bastard the reaction he wanted and due to becoming so mad with fury, I planned to wait outside my bedroom window just before what would’ve been his third visit. I think it was his third. Anyway, right after the first incident with this sicko, I told Larry and John, the brothers who owned the building at the time, who had an apartment available on the 4th floor around the corner. I freaked when I saw it. It was so big and so much nicer, I had to have it.

Even though I forgot about the visit with the sicko and moved up right away, I knew from now on I’d never cower down to anyone again. I learned if you show fear to any kind of troublemaker or be naïve or vulnerable, you’ll be taken advantage of. So, I moved up there and Jenny, Jim and a friend of Jim’s helped.

Right after that, I met Nancy H next door. I also had met Emily B who lived down the street in a building also owned by the same brothers. Also, I became friends with an old couple on the 2nd floor, Jo and Eddy L. Jo was always sweet and sincere, but Eddy went out of his mind due to Alzheimer’s disease. I met a girl named Mary C, a few buildings down who had a young son. Whenever I could, I helped her out with food or by giving her things I didn’t want or need.

Jenny and I were friends since I was 9 and she was 10. Jim was her boyfriend.

I had discussed my being gay with only my brother and my therapist at this time, but wouldn’t act on it for a while. I was too young to know about gay bars and all the other stuff I know now. All I knew was that I had always been attracted to women, but would take whatever I could get for a while. Jenny also told me her sister Robin was gay and I found out Shelly R was too. Shelly’s the daughter of my mom’s best friend Charlotte. They go back way before Larry was even born.

I met Ron M in July of 1986. He was ok at first then changed as most people do. He was never brutal as he knew just what I’d do to people like that and he was patient in bed. The sex was boring and all the while he was “down there” I’d continue to fantasize about women. It took 3 months or so before he could get inside me without pain and he was small, too. Only 4” hard. His goal was to be married and have kids and when we went over to my parent’s house and he told them he wanted to marry me, I was shocked they didn’t say anything against it. I’m not shocked they told me to wait 5-10 years before I got pregnant and to get it medically approved. That was their way of saying, “You’re not rich and you’re not good enough to be a mother.” Of course, to them, money’s the number one thing. Not love. And they had said, “Do you want your kids to have the same problems you do? Or have no ear too?”

I said, “First of all, my kid won’t have the same problem cuz they won’t be raised the way you raised me. Also, I checked with a doctor and this ear bit is bullshit. You guys never had a missing ear. You were born with two normal ears. Yet you produced a child with a missing ear.”

This was around my 21st birthday and Dad said if we still felt the same by his birthday, April 5th, he’d set something up. Something small, they said, so we could be given the money that would’ve been spent on a big wedding. Mom said Tammy got a big wedding cuz Bill already had a home for them and a good job. Tammy, in some ways, was more screwed up than me, but could always get men with houses and money. 98% of the people I meet, males or females, are broke.

By the end of January, Ron and I were finished. He was just too immature, flaky, naïve, impractical, possessive and pushy. He was into pot and booze too which I was finished with. He may have cheated on me, but I doubt he did. I called Mom, told her why I kicked him out and laid it out on the line right then and there about being gay.

Later…

Just to quickly update you, I’m doing laundry now and had a nice chat with Steve on the phone last night. I guess he’ll be up this Saturday.

Other than that nothing’s really new. I’ve pretty much maintained a day schedule for the last week or so. However, I think I’ll be up most of the night. I was up till 6 AM yesterday but I got up at noon so that wasn’t too bad. No, actually I think it was 5 AM but that’s enough sleep, usually.

Now, let me go stop my VCR, get a cigarette, then I’ll continue with what I began last night.

MONDAY, MAY 6, 1991 Boy, sometimes I really feel like a complete waste product. Not only is the past depressing to think about, but the future is, too. The future is depressing and a bit scary. If I never become a singer or have a child or a woman (first best), what will my life be about? Will I be on SS forever?

I know I’ll never have the last two things up above in my last paragraph, as I know the difference between fantasy and a vision. For example, when I think of a woman, it’s a fantasy cuz I know it’s not meant to be.

As far as singing goes, I know it’d be easier to say “fuck it” and settle for some stupid job I hate. I feel helpless and like I’ll never get anywhere with it but the vision just won’t go away. When I picture myself as a singer, performing, rehearsals, traveling, studios, interviews, and Grammys, it just seems so real and so natural. I’m already 25 now and I feel like my voice isn’t a gift I can use. It’s more like a curse and a tease to me now even though I’d never stop singing. Could I ever make it by being poor, anti-drugs, and by having no car, no money, no sex, and with all the fears and lack of trust I have in people?

I know these bands, Free Press and Radiators, will never call me. If they did, they’d turn me down cuz I have no car, no experience, or maybe not the type of singer or person they’re looking for. Like I said before, some people get everything or some things they want, but I’ve never been granted one wish. I mean a major wish. A wish that really really matters. Yes, I have made more personal growth than I expected. Yes, I have gotten more of a voice and other abilities than I expected. Yes, I’ve moved to a great apartment in a nice town, but should I give up? Is it now really time to give in to a job I hate? A nothing-nobody job?

SATURDAY, MAY 4, 1991 I am currently on Kim’s bed and we are both writing in our journals. She says she’s been inspired to write by me.

Earlier, I spoke with both Tammy and Mom and I guess Dad’s not doing too well. They’re gonna keep me posted. Also, I spoke with Tony who I met while roller skating.

Yesterday I had a wicked bad day with horrible cramps. It went on and on for hours till I fell asleep. I shit my ass off and threw up twice.

I lost a couple of pounds. I weigh usually between 97-100. My measurements are as follows:

Waist - 26 Thighs - 21½ Bust - 32½ Hips - 33½ Lower gut - 29

Andy left a message two days ago saying he wasn’t moving till June 1st, rather than May 1st.

I also called that guy Kim and I met at Food Fart talking about bands. He gave my number to two bands that he says are drug-free. One’s called The Radiators which makes you think of a football team. The other one’s called Free Press which reminds you of a magazine or newspaper publishing company.

Since I’ve been here I’ve gotten quite a bit of editing done, but I think I’ll go listen to music now, then go to bed.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 1, 1991 Kim, Mark, and I went to Hampden Beach today and I got only a little bit of color. I would’ve gotten tons of color if we’d left earlier and if it was warmer. Mom was right about saying it gets easier to tan as you get older. Despite the bees which I hate to death, I’d like to lie out in the parking lot tomorrow, but they predict rain. When we left here, it was damp and foggy and at the beach, it was so chilly that I got to the point where I needed to put my shirt on. I was still cold after I did that, too.

Before we left I had an appointment with my asthma doctor, and he also agreed I’m getting much better. I was so incredibly tired today as I had only two hours of sleep when I got up this morning. Also, I slept an hour and a half in the backseat on the way back home. I hate long rides and man did it seem like forever getting there and back. Surprisingly enough, though, my schedule’s been fairly normal since I moved here.

I can breathe so much better and my skin looks better, too. I no longer wake up so congested and I don’t get one cold after another anymore. Cuz of my lack of sleep I figured I could sleep but I can’t yet.

There’s a fitness center next door and a woman from this place left a message while I recorded Unsolved Mysteries and tried to sleep. I’ll wait for her to call back as she said she would.

Now, for a quick update on what’s gone on since I last wrote:

Andy’s moving into his new apartment today.

I got a musical mobile from Kim which her grandmother gave her. Quarter notes, eighth notes, and G-clefts hang from it.

Kim also bought me a beautiful spring jacket, a dress, and a bracelet.

I went skating with my new roller skates and what a grip! They feel and handle the rink like heaven.

This girl at the mall who I “felt” was gay never called about the signing lessons she wanted. Was she ever so flattered when I told her how nice her figure was!

That cop with information for me never called Kim.

That guy that Kim and I spoke to that works at Food Fart in Greenfield never called about band information.

God never failed to have that guy who hit on me at the skating rink call twice. He got the machine, though.

That cop Jamie’s real name is Laurie. I called her at home one night and her voice sounded manlier than I remembered, and she was a snotty bitch, denying she was gay. Although she tried her best for it, she never got any information connecting my call to me or Kim.

[dreams-of-valeria]

CHAPTER NINE

| Series: The Glass Cage Epidemic | Pairing: Evan Peters OC x FOC | Warnings: Obscene language, Smut | Word count: 3,265 | Rated: Explicit | Book mentioned: Annihilation by Jeff VanderMeer |

Atticus still wore his watch in bed that night. I could feel the cold metal against my back as he held me. 

Our breaths had settled, dinner was digested and the thin layer of sweat on our skin had evaporated, making the air around us cooler. We’d done nothing different this time around, yet he felt different. Closer. 

After we left his office together, eventually interrupted by a knock on the door followed by frantic cover ups, he suggested we stop by one of the art galleries we frequented on weekends but only to make fun of. This time however, Atticus said he wanted to show me a painting he said reminded him of me. For some reason, I expected a portrait of a woman made from legos or cheerios or whatever passed as art media (We once saw a sculpture of the whole clitoris made from used tampons that women from the community had donated to the cause. Mercifully, it was in a glass case but it still made me queasy but for some reason turned Atticus on a lot. The clit can’t be that big, right? So naturally, I owed him an education and follow up practicals).

His hand didn’t leave my waist as we walked past the doors we knew so well past a sign that read Androgynous in a complicated font.  

“It better not be penises,” I commented as we signed in, pulling a chuckle from him.

“Is it a marble nude of some Greek nymph? I can’t compete with that.”

“Will you calm down?” he chuckled again, squeezing my waist. I hadn’t realised I was being neurotic. Well, in my defence I’d had quite the day. I knew he had a right to know, but I was equally intrigued by the whole family emergency thing too. So I wouldn’t budge until he did.

“And if it’s not obvious enough, I like your body the way it is.”

“Farts and all?” I asked, my mouth twisting.

“Farts and all,” Atticus repeated steadfastly and finally stopped us in front of it.

It was not what I had expected. It was no portrait of a woman, or sunflowers, or penises, thank God. It was a spatula painting of a spoon. No, I was not kidding.

“Well, the resemblance is uncanny,” I commented, and he tittered, wrapping his hands around me and resting his chin on my shoulder. He was holding me in public? Granted, the gallery was barely populated but still, this was a big leap for him. 

“I know it’s odd, but you see the hint of gold along the cusp?” He said, pointing to it. Credit where credit was due, the oil on canvas had layers upon layers of colour and subtleties that a trained eye may marvel over, but on the surface, I knew this was special. 

“Yeah?”

“That’s you,” he said and held me again. I couldn’t grasp exactly where he was coming from, what with comparing me to inanimate objects, but I could appreciate the sentiment. This was a huge gesture.

“Quicksilver,” I read the title, running the word over my tongue. Wasn’t that mercury? Cutlery was famously made of steel.

“I mean, I don’t expect you to like it, it just reminded me of you.”

“Yeah, no, I get it.” I smiled. “And it looks like someone else has a fetish for assorted cutlery too,” I said, pointing to the sold sign with my head.

“Oh, that would be yours, truly.”

I turned around in his arms and stared at him.

“You bought it?”

“Uh huh.”

“For how much?” 

Doesn’t he remember our little game at art galleries of Guess the price, be the ride and how many times he fell short? And ended up on the bottom?

“$10,000, but, but,” Atticus pacified me before I could blow my top. “Since it’s a ridiculous amount of money for paint and paper, I offered to update the gallery’s security system for free and they let me have it.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah, plus I only have to wear a tight full body black latex suit and model every Friday, so win-win,” he shrugged. 

“I’ll admit, that would be hot,” I nodded, before we both broke into laughter. I caught his eyes for a moment. “Thank you,” I said, and kissed him.

“So where are you gonna hang that up? In your office or at the brothel?”

“Brothel?” He asked as we got into my car.

“Yeah, the longer you don’t take me to your place, the worse my perception of it gets.”

Atticus chuckled, getting his phone out. 

“So you think I moonlight as a pimp?”

“Never said pimp, gorgeous,” I said as I pulled onto the road, and that made him laugh hard. 

“I’m curious, what have you pictured my house as so far?”

“Uh, going back we have coven, warehouse turned into sex dungeon, animal skin furnishings, samurai furnishings, batcave, rock and roll hall of fame and the colour beige.”

I think he had tears coming out of his eyes. He was truly a sight to behold. “And these are the things you think I’d be embarrassed by?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“It’s funny how wrong you are,” he said, resting his hand on my thigh. 

“Not even close?”

“Nope.” he moved his hand further. That little trick was enough to drench me. “But I guess you’ll know this Friday.”

“I will?”

“I’ll send you the address, you can come over after work and we’ll stay in over the weekend.”

And that was just about the most intriguing thing he’d ever said to me. Ever since we got back to my place, the thrill of it all remained in the back of my mind. I’ve found it was easier to get through the week when you had something to look forward to. 

“I’m curious,” Atticus said now, back in my apartment, touching my cheek. “I told you in no unclear terms that I had the fantasy of bending you over my desk and yet you did . . . that. How did you know?”

“That you’d like it?”

He nodded.

“Because you didn’t ask for it.”

He frowned.

“I can’t speak for other people, but most of the fantasies I have, sexual or otherwise end up being a lot better in my head than in reality. I think the whole ordeal of thinking about it puts too much pressure on it and we often find it underwhelming.”

“We milk it for all it’s worth in our heads.”

“Exactly. I think you and I just crave novelty.”

“Hm,” Atticus said, and fell asleep like that a minute later, his arm still around me.

***

Right on brand for him, his house turned out to be the last thing I expected. 

It was close to the financial district amongst other manicured lawns, but it was barely furnished. Everything was neat, almost too neat. Is this what it was always like, or did he clean up for me? I took everything in as he walked me on the tour of his townhouse, but seemed nervous for some reason. I wouldn’t know why until the next morning.

Atticus did the whole nine yards that Friday night, tour, cook dinner for us, christen his bed–which he swore he’d never done before. As it turns out, he never brought women home.

“But why?” I asked, rubbing moisturiser on my legs. Atticus shrugged, righting the hand towel on the hanger. He was never this nit picky at my place.

“I want my house to be a world different from the one I go out into everyday. I don’t like mixing the two. I just need to know it’s separate.” He said, stripping down to his boxers. Things started to make sense. He just wanted a safe space for himself. 

“Tell you what,” I went up to him and looked at him in the bathroom mirror. “How about we stay here just for tonight, and we can go back to my place tomorrow morning.”

Atticus considered it for a moment. “But if I can’t share this place at least with the people I like, then what’s the point?” 

His face looked broken, and so vulnerable. I got that inkling again, the one that said I didn’t really know him enough.

“You don’t have to rush into anything, ok?” I said, running my hand through his hair. His eyes closed reflexively and he sighed in contentment. 

“Thank you.”

That night, he lay his head on my chest as I read to him.

“. . . That's how the madness of the world tries to colonise you: from the outside in, forcing you to live in its reality–”

“What were you gonna tell me that day at the office?”

I closed the book and glanced down at him, eyes closed and nuzzling his nose into my chest as he settled into his slumber. 

“Like I said before, quid pro quo. Are you ready to talk about who you thought you were calling down that day?”

I waited long for a reply that never came. Eventually, I resumed reading, but stopped promptly when he yawned for the second time. Atticus didn’t complain as I pressed his back to my chest and held him as he slept.

I could feel him hesitate with what to say for a while, but he just wished me a good night and sunk into my embrace. 

***

I woke up alone. 

My arm tried to seek him out from some recently gained reflex, but all it felt was silken sheets that were cold and had been for quite a while. I called his name in the direction of the bathroom but got no reply. 

Typing my hair up with the tie around my wrist, I stumbled to the kitchen with one eye closed. 

“Atticus?” I called into the air, glancing at the clock. 7:27 am. How long had he been up? I was usually the first to wake. Idly rubbing at my wrist where the hair tie had left a mark and yawning, I headed for the living room upon finding the kitchen empty. The coffee was on. I paused for a sip of water from a futuristic bottle. After wrestling with it for a minute, I must have accidentally pressed the hose option because it sprayed water all over me. I was so tired, it didn't even bother me, although the damp coldness was a thorn in my tits.

I yawned again. That was some bed. I don’t think I’ve slept like that in ages. What was it about a good sleep that made you feel more dead and less refreshed? The mind always wants more.

“Kit?” I called, but got no reply. I couldn’t remember exactly when I’d started calling him that either. It just happened one day when I picked him up outside work and he had grinned so huge. So it stuck.

It was 7:32 now and I was still Atticus-less. I tittered. Once I could get my thoughts to calm or atleast dull, I heard the muffled beats coming from beneath my feet. He’d never given me a tour of the basement. 

Surpassing the ominous vibe that arose, I headed for the garage. No secret staircase. So far so good. The bass got louder as I descended.

Again, not what I expected. 

It was upscaled to be a den, with comfortable furnishings, a mini fridge, a TV on the far wall and a home gym. The only thing was, it wasn’t an open gym like you would expect, but was enclosed, Atticus included, in a large glass room.

A 12x12 foot glass cube smack dab in the middle of the basement with gym equipment. I didn’t say anything until I let him see me. He was bench pressing. Shirtless.

“Hey,” he flashed a smile at me and turned the music down with the remote. His hair was damp and dark, gym shorts drenched and chest glistened with sweat. 

“H-Hey,” I played along like there was nothing out of the ordinary. He certainly didn’t seem to think so. Ah, the things we do for–

“Nice man cave,” I commented, heading towards him. The glass walls had a string of holes at the top and my mind went straight to Hannibal Lecter. 

“Thanks,” Atticus said as he wiped the sweat off his neck with a towel, out of breath. 

“Yep, looks like a typical LA bachelor’s basement. TV, couch, minifridge, gym . . . Hey, what the fuck is that?” I said in the same pleasant intonation, pointing a lazy finger at his glass cell.

He was giggling. “Told you, you’d never guess.”

“Okay, you win. Well?” I asked, taking a seat at the couch in front of him. Atticus let a couple of sighs weigh down as he thought. The house safe space thing I could forgive. But this?

“I know I don’t look it, but I don’t like working out. Or maybe I do, but don’t find the motivation to do it everyday.”

I sat up straight, not expecting him to start off that way.

“But I have to keep healthy so I had this built to make sure I exercise.”

I chewed on that for a minute.

“Make sure?”

He stepped closer to the glass and tapped a display with a keypad on my side of the glass. It was locked?

“Time limit. It only opens after an hour.”

“Okay, Patrick Bateman. What if there was an emergency and you couldn’t get out!”

“Panic button,” he pointed to the other wall, where a large red button sat.

“What if you couldn’t get to it in time?” I probably sounded furious because he attempted to pacify me with a calm voice and hands in the air. 

“Relax, babe, Steve usually sits right there until I’m done. I gave him the day off ‘cuz you’re here.”

I crossed my arms and stared at the floor. How was he so calm? Anything could happen, he could faint, he could get injured, everything inside that cell was an accident waiting to happen.

“Cleo?” he drawled sweetly, making me look at him. “Relax. Nothing has gone wrong and nothing will.”

“I don’t know, Kit, it just seems like a huge leap just to ensure you work out everyday. I mean, you can be healthy without forcing yourself to-to–Are you listening to me?”

“Did you spill water on your shirt?”

“Yeah,” I snapped, still pissed. “Your stupid space water bottle confused me.”

“You know I can see everything, right?” he licked his lips and blatantly stared. I glanced down and well, he wasn’t wrong.

“Too bad you can’t do anything about it because you still have–” I glanced at the timer. “7 minutes and 42 seconds left.”

He dropped the towel on the seat, but it did nothing for the sweat. Was it the glistening sheen? The damp hair that seemed to give him a new hair colour? The grey gym shorts that sat so low on his hips? I could almost see everything too.

“Or I guess you could just push the panic button,” I shrugged, stepping closer to the glass. He copied me and pressed his forearm against the wall above his head, heavy pants fogging up the glass

“Do you think you can make me?”

Was that a taunt? The thrill of novelty flooded me, spreading along my nerves like wildfire. I’d had no formal training as a stripper, but I was going to try my best, even if it was something we would laugh about later. 

I went to his iPod and played the only song I thought was worth stripping to. You don’t own me by Leslie Gore.

I teased him with the hem of my shirt, my shorts, wiggled my butt in his face as I chuckled, but he wouldn’t break even once. He was in the zone, and by the time I saw him again, he was helping himself, one hand against the glass and the other moving swiftly inside his gym shorts, his lips apart.

Holy shit. 

That sight ignited something in me. I shrugged off my tank top entirely and touched myself, pushing away the wayward thoughts that said this didn’t seem like me. Like us. But holy fuck was it fun.

His mouth popped open as he paced up, when my own hand slipped into my panties. 

“Fuck, I’m calling it. Punch in 1-9-6-6.” He headed for the door and tapped the display. It read 1:45. I smirked.

It took him a moment to understand. With a scoff and a smile, Atticus pushed the button on the other side of the wall and I was on him instantly, tackling him to the ground. The floor was carpeted so it would do. All he had to do was lower his shorts. We were both more than ready. 

Our mouths popped open in unison as I lowered myself onto him, and by the time we were finished, the timer had announced its climax too.

***

Despite Atticus declaring his townhouse as a safe space, we went back to it more often than not. For starters, his bed was unbelievably comfy, and there was a TV in the bedroom and when we both had raging headaches and couldn’t read another sentence, we snuggled and watched brain dead romcoms. I didn’t understand exactly his obsession with them; only because they were so off brand for a man of his stature, but oh did he enjoy them. 

For the duration of our stay, Atticus always cooked, often making it a spectacle. He’d get me warmed up with some appetisers at the island counter in the middle of the kitchen, and let me watch him go through his process. It was nothing out of the ordinary and his food didn’t particularly stand out, but I loved watching him. It was something about him having me there in his space and just being so comfortable with it.

I remember one noon in the second week of January, I was watching him boil spaghetti with my chin resting in my hand, and we were talking animatedly about this one artist at the gallery who claimed to have Tourette’s to seem more authentic about his art, but Atticus swore he was faking it.

“There is a devastating press meeting coming up in that man’s life soon, mark my words.”

I chuckled, presently more intrigued by the bulging veins on his arms. I thought about tracing them from their origin on the back of his hand right till his arm over and over again. I liked how squishy they felt under my fingers. It was probably the only squishy thing about him.

“Do you wanna go to Paris with me?”

I blinked and looked at him. Had I missed something?

“What?”

“I have a business trip next week and I would like it if you came along. It’s only for two days and the company will provide accommodation and everything. I thought you could leave Ava in charge of the bakery, or close it if you want, but again, it’s only for three days–”

“Kit.”

“I realise I’m asking for a lot and I know I shouldn’t spring this on you so suddenly, but I only found out myself a week ago and I didn’t wanna go, but Brendan tore his ballsack and I remember you said something about a convention that same week–”

“Kit,” I grinned, coming up to him and holding his face. That seemed to calm him down. Why was he so nervous? Didn’t he know?

“Of course I’ll go with you.”

A wave of relief passed over him and he sighed into my shoulder as he embraced me. 

“But I just need to know something first,” I said gravely, eyeing him from a distance. Atticus swallowed, but I got the feeling he’d answer it no matter what.

“How’d he tear his ballsack?”

[icanonlybe-human]

A lot has happened.

Obviously it was Christmas/holidays and I got two weeks off work. It was the first Christmas without Pop, so everyone was quite emotional. Except me. At this point I’m starting to believe that my brain refuses to feel any emotions unless they’re extreme.

We also went camping which was really nice. We had some really good moments, like watching a lake with moonlight turning the rippling surface of the water into dancing fireflies. Or a rosella waltzing right through camp within an arm’s reach of me. Or watching a black stallion race across the flats with it’s herd (including a baby). Or viewing the magnificence of nature with waterfalls and caves that have taken millions of years to form.

But I also learnt that Mum and Dad are planning on going to the Grampians. And I’m not invited even though they said I’d always be invited to their big adventures. I feel more and more like I’m third wheeling whenever I’m around Mum and Dad. It used to be the three of us against the world, but now it feels like it’s Mum and Dad and I’m the afterthought.

And then, Z texted. And even though I’d had trouble sleeping in that fucking bedroom every time we were sleeping at Mum and Dad’s place, everything came flooding back. For the first time in a year, I cried myself to sleep again, but not just out of pain this time. For the first time since high school, I felt sheer rage. Still do. And it’s because Z didn’t just text me to say he wasn’t coming to a meet up that his parents were coming to. He did it because he wants to get back in touch. Three years later and I’m still fucking broken after what he did to me, after he took advantage of my autistic asexual innocence and fucking broke me. Because of him, I’m a fucking adult who needs fluffy blankets and plush toys and nightlights and humidifiers because I still wake up disoriented, muscles clenched and in a cold sweat because I still have nightmares. My muscles are sore not because of working out, it’s because sleeping is an extreme sport for me because of what he did to me. I still can’t stand to be alone in a room with a guy, and I still can’t do hugs, not just because of the sensory hell but because I literally don’t trust people enough for them to touch me. And yet he wants to get back in touch? Now that I think about it, rage doesn’t fucking cut it.

It’s been two weeks since he texted and I’m still reeling from it. And stress at work is ridiculous because everyone is refusing to help me even though what they’re demanding of me is way too much for just one person to handle. And because everything is going to shit, my depression has obviously spiked again as well as the anxiety. Fuck, I had a panic attack at work on Friday.

I’m afraid that I’m dangerously close to a breakdown. You know how I can tell? When I’m struggling, I have a comfort episode of Supernatural that I get the urge to watch. Season 7 episode 17, when Sam gets admitted to a psych ward for being schizophrenic after his soul was turned into dog food for Lucifer. I don’t have the side of seeing someone else, but the feelings of your own brain attacking you, as well as the feeling of being too tired to fight against it, and then the fractured memories and delirious-ness that comes with it… it’s all what I’ve felt before. And I’m scarily close to tipping over the edge into the fractured memories part soon if things don’t get better.

Alarm bells are a-ringin and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to stop it.

[madnessformunson]

You Belong With Me

Part 1

Summary: you’ve been Eddie’s best friend and neighbor for years. You’ve had a crush on him for a long time but he has his eyes set on Chrissy.

Note: you are Max’s older sister so in this fic you have red hair like her, not proof read

Warnings: Unrequited love, Eddie being a jerk, Lovesick reader, cussing

You can read Part 2 here

You wave to Eddie from your window, you’ve been neighbors since you were 8 years old, your bedroom windows face each other. He waved back pointing for you to come outside. You grab your bag and take off at the door calling for your sister Max, “Maxine let’s go!”

“I’m coming I’m coming” she said rolling her eyes.

You both walk over where Eddie’s van is getting ready to jump in. He takes you both to and from school everyday so you don't have to ride the bus.

“Are we hanging out tonight? It’s Friday so you know what the means!” You smiled at him.

“I really want to Red but I have a really big deal going on after school. What if I stop by afterwards?” Eddie says as he rubs your thigh.

“What? We always do this as a tradition! Every Friday night!” You pouted and pushed his hand off your thigh.

“I know sweets but we aren’t canceling just moving it back. I really need the cash”

“Fine, but you have to buy me some sour gummy worms”

“Anything for my sweetheart!” Eddie says smiling at you.

“You guys are so gross,” Max says from the back with a fake gag.

You turn up Black Sabbath as you and Eddie laugh.

Evening came and you waited in your room for Eddie to show up. It was getting late and you were starting to worry. You look out your bedroom window to see Chrissy on Eddie’s lap in deep conversation. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t. Then you witness Chrissy lean down and kiss eddie. Your heart broke right then and there. You could never compete with Chrissy freaking Cunningham. She wore a tight cheerleader outfit and listened to girly music. She was the definition of Dainty and you just… weren’t. Eddie never came over that night and you didn’t see him the rest of the weekend. Monday finally rolled around and you and Max made your way to his van for a ride. You hop in no one saying anything. You noticed Eddie driving a different way to school.

“Hey Eds I’m not sure if you are still high but you are going the wrong way to school” you tried to let out a laugh with it.

“Yeah I know I need to pick up Chrissy first”

“Chrissy as in Chrissy Cunningham? As in the Chrissy Cunningham you did a deal with Friday night?”

“Yeah y/n, she’s really nice, you would like her. We are going out on a date this weekend”

Your stomach twisted. Date? This is more serious than you thought.

He pulled up to Chrissy’s house and looked nervously at you.

“Would you mind getting in the back seat?” He said not making eye contact.

“Oh..ok” you climbed over to the back seat squished next to Max.

As the days went on Eddie ditched you more and more. He no longer took you to and from school, he was obsessed with Chrissy. Everything she did he loves. She was the picture perfect girl, you could never complete with that.

As you sat at the hellfire table, your typical seat being taken by Chrissy, the decision for the next campaign was making all of the party go wild. Until Chrissy cleared her throat, “Eds I thought you were gonna come watch me cheer Friday night” she pouted.

“I’m sorry Chrissy but there is no moving hellfire, I love it. I can come to the next game” Eddie defended.

Chrissy rolled her eyes, “it’s not the same! You never want to come support what I do”

“Eh sorry guys I have to cancel I need to be there to support my girl” he smiled at Chrissy making you cringe.

The party started discussing if they were going to move the campaign and to when.

After school you decided to go for a walk, you put your headphones on and turned up Dio. That’s when you saw Chrissy storm out of Eddie’s trailer as he sat on the front porch with his head in his hands.

“Hey…” you said as you passed by him.

“Hi”

“I’m going for a walk, want to come?”

Eddie jumped up and started walking beside you. He seemed really upset but you didn’t want to pry.

“Everything alright in lovers paradise” you chuckle but he didn’t.

“I like Chrissy I really do but I just don’t feel like she gets me you know? She’s always upset with what I do or say. I feel like she’s trying to change me inside of letting me be me” he confined in you.

“Aw I’m sorry Eds” you said back unsure of how to address this new territory.

“She’s just doesn’t get me how you do y/n”

He pulled you in and held you close. You felt your stomach twist into knots.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a bit when you decided to break it, “well I know what will make you feel better, Harrington is having a huge party tonight. You should come with me, we could have a lot of fun annoying the shit out of Steve”

“Don’t temp me with a good time sweetheart” Eddie said back with a huge smile.

You got dressed in your favorite outfit. High waisted black shorts with a black Dio tee. You had on little makeup and your hair was pulled back. You walked out of your trailer to spot Eddie.

“You look amazing y/n! Are you ready!”

You nodded hopping into the front seat like old times.

You entered the party and it was already insane. People were everywhere.

Before you knew it you were tipsy and lost track of Eddie. You finally spot him sitting on the couch completely wasted.

“Y/N! Look everyone it’s my sweetheart” Eddie called out.

You laughed a little, “should we start making our way home sir?”

“I love you y/n so so much” Eddie stated as he grabbed your hand.

“I love you too Eds”

“No I like really really love you y/n with all my heart”

Your stomach twisted a bit. As you pull Eddie up to stand and make your journey home.

As you get to his door you tell him, “well this is your stop”

He grabs onto your face with his thumbs on your cheeks, “I’m in love with you y/n you are all I ever wanted. Chrissy doesn’t know me like you do”

You blush

“I swear I’m breaking up with her tomorrow so you can be mine forever.”

“That sounds good Eds I’ll see you tomorrow”

You get him into his trailer than go to your butterflies filled your stomach. This is what you wanted for years, for him to finally notice you.

The next morning you got up excited to see Eddie, hoping he meant what he said the night before. But as you pull your curtain open you see Chrissy’s figure getting out of his bed and pulling a shirt on.

Your stomach drops. He was still with her. He didn’t mean what he said, he doesn’t want you.

[shurisneakers]

harmless (x)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety, smidge of angst, mentions of violence

Word count: 7.8k (i went overboard. clearly.)

A/N: as well all know, i am a humanities student writing science geeks. if any of this sounds unrealistic or nonsensical, it’s because it is and i am honestly too exhausted to research data privacy and AI so here’s my take on how STEM should work i.e. the power of friendship  <3 major shoutout to @iamlittlesparkler for the idea for this chapter!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

“As you know, we have a busy week ahead of us.” 

Coffees line the conference room table, pens click against the stacks of paper that settle in front of various agents and the smell of deodorant mixed with post-training sweat lingers at the back of the room like a disgusting witch concoction. 

“The annual parade is coming up and since there are a few security threats, SHIELD has been asked to step in. Therefore, all of you will be working security this week, possibly even at the parade.” Murmurs broke out in the room the minute this was said; mostly from first year field agents who were way too excited to have earpieces and fingerless gloves. 

Bucky, on the other hand, doesn’t think much of it. They’ve dealt with threats before, most were declared empty the minute it got out that SHIELD or the Avengers were involved. It’s the 12th one that year. 

“That’s only if we don’t catch it first,” Steve continued. “Our first priority is precaution. The tech and analytics teams are working on it. However, if you see anything suspicious, bring it up with Director Fury. He’s going to be around to make sure we’re not overlooking anything. Do you have any questions?”

More whispers erupted at the mention of Fury’s name. Wait till they realise he lives up to his name when they accidentally manage to set him off just by existing incorrectly.

Bucky smirks at the thought.

“You can leave then.” Steve straightens up as chairs shuffle against the carpeted floor, over twenty people leaving the room.

“And remember, if you see an eagle today, be sure to stand there and thank it on behalf of Steve for its service. Freedom! Liberty! And whatever else,” Tony calls out from the corner of the room, earning a sigh from the captain. Others only snicker as they close the door behind them.

“Thanks.” Steve stares at him stone faced, bemused at the symbolism that had been bestowed upon him.

“Gotta keep the patriotism high.” The only ones that remain are the official team. Bucky thinks that he should have left with the other agents but apparently, it was rude and not a good show of team spirit.

“How serious is this threat anyway?” Clint has his head face down on the table, hand holding his to-go coffee cup so it doesn’t fall over. 

“We’re not sure.” Steve finally takes a seat on the chair in front of him. “It’s the biggest event we’ve had this year, wouldn’t put it past them.”

“If it’s those Welsh kids again, I’m gonna punch a hole through their house this time,” Clint warns, voice muffled through the furniture. 

“It’s not them, we checked.” Nat had her leg up on the armrest of Clint’s chair. “Tech team’s been working overtime to figure it out.”

“You have anything that could help?” Sam sends a nod towards Tony.

“I got a few things but it’d take a while to put it together.” 

“Didn’t you learn quantum physics in a night?” Wanda’s picking apart a cookie into pieces, chewing slowly.

“Thermodynamic astrophysics,” he corrects her. “Quantum science took lesser.”

Bucky scoffs slightly at the brag, eyes still trained on the table in front of him. Maybe if he made no noise, they would forget he’s here.

“Yeah, so this should be a piece’a cake.”  

“If your cake was somehow made out of a highly specified tracker that somehow doesn’t violate the data privacy of the entire world while analysing millions of terabytes worth of information, then yeah. A piece of it.”

“What he means to say-” Bruce interjects, “-is that we’re trying. It’s just taking longer than usual.”

“Well, the parade’s this Sunday. Think it’ll be done by then?”

“Hey FRIDAY,” Tony crosses his arm over his chest. “How many hours have I slept this week?”

“Three and a half, boss.”

“How much more will I be getting?”

“From previous experience, about six.”

“Yeah, we can get it done.” Tony looks back at Steve. 

“Ask someone on the tech team to help you out.” Everyone was well aware of Tony’s bad coping mechanisms and how futile it was to get him to change his mind about it, but they still tried.

“They’re too busy.” Bruce pressed his lips into a straight line. 

Bucky tunes out at this point. If he could help, he would have reluctantly chimed in by now, but he couldn’t. 

“So what now?” Sam rips Clint’s doughnut into two, keeping one half for himself while leaving the other to the latter who still hadn’t lifted his head up from the table.

“I actually asked Fury if I could call in an external to come help,” Tony pipes up. 

“And he agreed?” Nat raised an eyebrow.

“After he realised I wasn’t going to leave his office until he said yes.” He pulled out his phone, rapidly typing out a message before hitting send. “It didn’t take too long.”

“Do we know this person?” Steve asks a little suspiciously.

“Well-” Bruce sneaks a glance at the broody man on the chair, “-kinda.”

Everyone can tell Bucky isn’t paying attention by the way he’s glaring holes into the plant. He doesn’t mean to, it just so happens that it looks like he wants to kill it. Nobody tends to bother him during meetings, knowing well and fully that he did not care.

“You’re about to.” Tony jumps up, making his way to the door to pull it open.

Bucky perks up. An open door means they can leave, right? He can go watch The Bachelor? He’s not sure what everyone was talking about, but if the meeting was over he could go ask Wanda who was always kind enough to help.

“Our newest recruit,” the billionaire announces, quickly adding the next part, “on a trial basis.” 

Bucky looks at the door.

His jaw drops open.

“No,” he says loudly, posture immediately stiff as a plank. 

“Hello to you too, Barnes.” You roll your eyes before sending a small wave to everyone else. “Hey everyone.”

“What are you doing here?” He looks like he’s seething. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot about our date.” You cross your arms over your chest in defiance. “You told me 3 o’clock, you player.”

“What is she doing here?” He whips to Steve for an answer.

“Hey Y/N,” Sam greets with a smile on his face before Steve can reply.

“Sam Wilson, good to see you again.” You grin.

“Right back at ya, sugar.” 

Wanda looks amused, Clint finally lifts his head off the table at the mention of your name while Nat takes her feet off his armrest, and Steve’s body relaxes when he realises what’s going on. 

“Okay.” Tony claps his hand. Bucky shoots daggers at him. “As you all know, this is Y/N. She’s going to working with us this week.”

“This is ridi- how did you even find out about her?”

“Aside from the fact that she’s all you talk about?” Clint snorts. Bucky shifts his glare to him. It was bullshit and an exaggeration and Clint was going to get a shoe up his ass very soon.

Your grin only grows bigger.

“We saw one of the repulsors she made some time ago,” Bruce answers his question like the sane person that he is. “Tony’s had her in mind for a while.”

“Repulsors? How on ear-” Bucky connects two and two together before turning to Sam. “You. You got her this job.”

“Sam’s my best wingman.” You send him a small heart made from your hands. Whether the pun was intentional or not, no one would know.

“Don’t look at me, I had nothing to do with this idea.” Sam raised his hands to brush off the blame.

“You’re a villain,” he points out loudly.

“I’m a saint.” You raise your hand to your heart in mock offence. “I have done nothing wrong in my life, ever.”

“Listen, Robocop,” Tony interrupts your conversation, bringing the attention back to him, “I cleared it with Fury. He’s the boss here.”

“Fury doesn’t know-”

“What don’t I know?” The atmosphere of the room changes the minute he saunters in. 

With an eyepatch on his face, gaze sharp and a long black coat, Nick Fury puts Bucky’s dark outfits to shame. Not like he was competing. 

Bucky doesn’t continue his sentence. Nick’s imposing presence loomed at the doorway, putting a stop to the ridiculous arguments that were beginning to boil. Instead, he looks at you, only to find your attention trained on the man of the hour.

“Nicholas,” you half cheer from where you had shifted to in the middle of all the commotion. 

Nicholas?

Nicholas?

No one had ever called him Nicholas. 

“Y/L/N,” Nick addresses in return. “Been a while.”

“You haven’t come to the lair in months, Nick.” You pout at him. “I even sent you an invite.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows. Since when are you on such good terms with Fury? Since when was anyone on good terms with Fury?

“It must have gotten lost in the mail,” he fires back, “Or maybe it’s because I just happen to be the busiest man in the damn country. Take your pick.”

You roll your eyes, muttering something under your breath, but the good natured smile on your face shows that you didn’t take any of his passive- or straight up- aggressiveness to heart. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was interrupting your little tea time.” He looks around the rest of the room with an edge in his voice. “Don’t you all have work to do?”

“We do,” Tony interrupts, holding up his hand before pointing to Bruce and you. “Everyone else just sorta sits around and looks pretty.”

“I’m gonna go talk to the organisers, see what spots are most vulnerable.” Steve stands up. “You coming?”

“Yep,” Sam responds, flicking Clint’s shoulder to drag him along. “Come on, man. When was the last time you took a shower?”

“I’ll go see what the kids are up to in training. They’re probably flying off the handle right now.” Natasha brushes off crumbs from her lap. “Barnes, you in?”

Bucky silently shakes his head, eyes focused on you as you introduce yourself to every Avenger who walks out of the room, sharing a small fist bump with Sam.

“I’ll do it,” Wanda volunteers instead, finally leaving behind only the Science Bros, you and Bucky in the room with Fury. 

“I’ll give you a tour of the lab.” Tony beckons and you nod, following him. “New eyepatch, Fury? Prada, I assume?”

“Stark,” Nick says curtly. 

Bucky stares after you, arms still folded across his chest.

“Any problem, Sergeant?” 

Other than the fact that his arch nemesis was now working with his friends, no, not really. But that did seem like a pretty big one.

“No,” Bucky mumbles instead, getting up from his place finally.

Apparently, no one else was worried about the possibly lethal combination of you and Stark, even with Banner there to dilute it. 

Fine.

Guess he just has to observe you the whole week.

Well, half a week. It was Wednesday. 

He observes inconspicuously over the rim of his coffee cup. He has a newspaper spread in front of him at Bruce’s table. 

It’s not suspicious. He’s been there multiple times to sit in silence with the scientist who occasionally tinkers with something while engaging Bucky in tidbits of conversation. He finds it calming, refreshing even

Today he has an agenda. Everyone knows about it too. 

“You know he’s staring at you, right?” Bruce looks up briefly from the giant blueprint laid in front of the group. 

Tony had been dragged away to get a proper meal into him after he stayed up for 36 hours straight with caffeine keeping his system running. 

“He has a tendency to do that.” You’re looking over the plan the three of you had come up with the day before. There were certain changes to be made in terms of efficiency. “Turns out if you annoy him, he stares harder.”

“We’ve heard about the inventions. Inators, he calls them?”

“Yeah,” you point out something on the sheet, drawing a circle around it to come back to later, “only good things I hope?”

“He doesn’t really talk much.” Bruce writes down a small comment against your arrow mark. “But if he hated them, he’d have a lot to say. So I’d take it as a compliment.”

“Would it annoy him if I did?”

“Probably.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment, then. Pass me the ruler?” You draw a line connecting two pieces. 

Bucky’s ability to lip read is excellent but he refuses to do it, for privacy purposes. He knew that SHIELD had pulled some strings and had another teacher substituting for your classes the whole week since your other option was to come only after school hours. Anything else about this plan was murky.

“You gonna sit there all day?” Tony looks over his shoulder, following his line of sight.

“I’ve done it before.” He continues to look over the newspaper at you with your finger extended at something on the blueprint as you explained something to Bruce.

“You look like- how do I say this nicely.” He wasn’t going to. “A fuckin’ stalker.”

“I’m supposed to stop her from doing anything evil.”

“Sure.” Tony snorts. “That’s what this is. Should I get you a fedora and sunglasses while we’re at it?”

Of course Stark wouldn’t care; he brought you into this project. It was pretty much impossible to get him to agree with Bucky.

Bucky just narrows his eyes and continues his observation. 

The menu of the cafeteria keeps changing. They like to keep things interesting.

Every time they do, Bucky spends too long staring at the menu, trying to figure out what exactly is familiar enough to order. Vietnamese week had him eating pho the entire duration it stayed.

“You plannin’ on eating anytime this century, sarge?” He recognises your voice immediately. 

He knows what time your break is and he knows that you generally eat lunch in the cafeteria with the science team. Generally, the three of you pour over solutions and debate points all through the meal, and he spends the time getting acquainted with his new, lowkey Instagram account. 

He blocks the Bucky Barnes hashtag the minute he gets an account again. God save his eyes from people asking him to break their back like a glow-stick. However, one afternoon of accidentally watching three cat videos has led to his entire explore page being taken over by them and he’s been trying for three days to get it to stop. 

“Just trying to-” he tilts his head. “-understand what I’m reading.”

“Not a big fan of Greek food?” You join him in looking at the menu. 

“Never really had the chance to try.” Tony and Bruce don’t seem to be in the room, probably pushing aside their meal to work on it as they’ve often done.

“Ah.” You already had your order in mind but you wait there. 

Two minutes later he’s still staring at the menu. He can feel your presence next to him, unmoving. It unnerves him.

“Why are you still standing here?” He cranes his neck to look at you.

“I’m just seeing how long it takes for you to order.” You shrug. “So far it’s been five minutes and forty six seconds. Forty eight now.”

“Go away.” The concept of someone standing beside him, waiting for him to do something reminded him far too much of him trying to bag his stuff at the grocery counter rapidly while other customers waited to pay. 

“Six minutes and thirty seconds. This is just sad now.”

“Your face is sad.” It was pathetic that he had now resorted to this.

It earned a laugh from you. 

As entertaining as it was to be able to get on his nerves by just standing silently next to him, you finally ask, “Do you want a recommendation?” 

He eyes you wearily. “You gonna give me food poisoning?” 

“Not today, no.” You shake your head slightly. “Maybe tomorrow.”

He stares a little longer. You remain unshaken in your offer.

“Fine.” He sighs, stepping aside. 

You tell him that since it’s his first time, you’d get him something basic. He thought it made sense. 

He argued with you when you ended up paying for the both of you, only shutting up when you told him he’s holding up the line and that he could pay you back later. It doesn’t stop his incessant mumble complaining. 

He ends up with gyros at his table and you sitting opposite him with your meal. He asks where the Science Bros are. You tell him it’s Science Hoes now, as christened by Tony, and that they’re in the lab.

“So?” You look at him eagerly.

“What?”

“How is it?” you urge, nodding at him.

He takes a cautious bite, really taking his time with it to annoy your impatient ass. 

“Well?” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“It’s-” he pauses, looking down at his food. “-good.”

“Aha.” You lean back victoriously. “Knew it.”

He likes it. He also knows that this is probably going to be the only thing he orders for the next week unless you had planned otherwise. 

“You’re not eating?” He gestures to your untouched tray.

“Taking it up to the lab. Got a few things to work on and we’re already behind.” You gather up your stuff and get up.

“Uh-” he pauses from practically inhaling the entire thing. He was already halfway done with it. “-thanks.”

“No problem. You wink at him. “Try figuring out what’s wrong with it.” 

You turn on your heel to leave, taking your order with you. He can see your shoulders bobbing with silent laughter. 

He stares down at his plate, swallowing slowly. 

He pokes at it with a fork, lifting up the leftovers to check if there’s anything underneath. Nothing. 

He checks to see if his limbs are still intact or his face was a different colour. Nope.

His stomach twists in worry about what’s going to happen. He still has a bit left but he pushes the tray aside.

The rest of the day he spends supervising you has you occasionally catching his eye, only to laugh. It only freaks him out more.

It takes eight hours of waiting and self induced tests later to realise there was nothing wrong with it. You were just playing with him.

He’s surprised to find you in the rec room when he strolls in with Sam, given that you haven’t taken a break all day.

You don’t share the same surprise... almost like you expected him.

“How long have you been waiting for me?” he immediately asks.

"I wasn’t here for you.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Heard that Wilson was makin’ an appearance here soon so I stopped by to get a good look at him."

"Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Sam laughs, inserting a dollar into the machine and punching in the code for what he wanted.

"Gladly. Strike a pose, would you?" You grin, raising your phone.

“Maybe when I’m not covered in sweat.” Sam counter offers and you accept with a thumbs up.

“You going to the parade, Sam?” You toy with the can in your hands.

“I’ll be working security, so probably.”

“Sarge?” You take a swig of your drink.

“Huh?” He snaps back into the conversation, putting a stop to the mental list of reasons he was making of why you could be here at the same time as him. He knew your schedule, it wouldn’t be very hard for you to figure out his.

“You coming to the parade on Sunday?” you ask again.

“I guess.”

You wince.

“What?” he asks instantly, curiosity making him a lot sloppier than usual.

“It’s just- you wear so much black.” You gesture to his current getup to prove your point. ”I feel like all the bright colours would vaporise you if you looked at them.”

He doesn’t look amused.

“You know, like Prince Philip.”

“I think I’ll be fine.” He gives you a sarcastic smile.

“You comin’ Buck?” Sam laughs, unwrapping the bar he bought from the machine.

“You go ahead, I’ll catch up,” Bucky says offhandedly, still glaring at you innocently drinking your soda.

Sam chews absentmindedly on his protein bar as he walks out, amused at the situation Bucky pulled himself into.

“What’d you do?” Bucky asks, studying your body language.

“I bought a soda.” You lift the can to prove your point. “And now I’m drinking it.”

“Why are you waiting for me?”

“I thought I’d return the favour,” you point out. “I’m supervising you.”

“Don’t.” He walks to the vending machine, pulling out his wallet for some loose change. There was a Snickers bar he had been craving since morning that he bought every alternate day. Small joys.

“Why? I have the time.” You take a sip, setting it down with a clang.

“You’re only here for this week.” Bucky counted the coins he had. He’d use a dollar but he was trying to get rid of the jingling in his pocket that made him sound like a fucking clown when he walked.

“Actually,” you begin innocuously, “Tony offered me a full-time position.”

Bucky’s movements stop, hunched over the money in his palm.

“What?”

“Yeah.” You nod seriously. “A full nine-to-five as a researcher here.”

“And you’re taking it.” He shakes himself out of the minor shock to assess the damage.

“I don’t know. I got a lot of things to consider.” The chair scrapes against the tiled floor as you stand up. “But maybe you should get used to seeing me a lot more around here.”

He punches in the code for his Snickers. The row whirs forward slowly.

“See you at the lab.” He hears you discard the empty can in the trash before exiting.

He waits patiently for his bar to drop while his mind internally screams about the consequences of having you work here. You wouldn’t be evil anymore. Unless you were here to steal secrets from the Tower. On the pro side, his weekend would be free again. On the con side, his weekend would be free again.

His bar stops right at the edge of the row. He waits for it to fall over. It doesn’t.

He shakes the machine, suppressing the primal urge to beat the shit out of it when the damn bar refuses to fall.

He punches in a few random buttons hoping that at least it would give his money back.

The little monitor instead flashes a new message across the screen.

‘Have a good day, sarge <3’

Motherfucker.

Captain America looks less daunting up close, you realise. But he is still a very large man with very large shoulders. You know at least four people who would like to scale him like a tree, not that you’d ever tell him.

“Hey, Y/N.” He sends you a small smile when you walk into the room for a mid-week update. A clipboard in your hand, report attached and a few stationery items in case some points needed to be noted done, you look professional and ready.

“Afternoon, Captain.” Tony saves a seat for you and Bruce beside him since you’re on the same project. You almost miss the fact that Bucky isn’t in the room.

He walks in a few minutes late; tall, dark and brooding, immediately bringing the excitement in the room down by 40% by just existing. 

Bucky surveys the room before catching your eye. He picks up his chair with ease and drags it over to where you are, sitting right beside you, ignoring the small cry of protest from an agent whose view he now obstructed. Everyone else just silently shifted over.

“Clingy much?” you whisper at him, eyes still trained on Steve who had waited till everyone was seated to continue.

“I’m supposed t’be keeping an eye on you,” he rebuffs in a hush.

“Well, you’re late. What if I went rogue, huh?”

“Therapy ran overtime,” he mumbles.

“Oh.” You blink. “How was it?”

“Same old.”

“You good?”

He refrains from answering when Steve starts addressing the room but yes, he was fine. He sends you a nod to confirm. 

“This is just a usual checking in. We’ve received all your reports, but just to keep everyone on the same page-”

Bucky logs out mentally. He knows what his job is, he’ll probably lead a division of the security team or join the mission to neutralise the threat in case they find it first. Either way, he’ll figure it out without having to listen to an intern nervously stammer their way through their team’s report. 

On the other hand, you’re not listening either. You were until you saw Bucky’s eyes glaze over while glowering at the window, assuming that he had stopped paying attention when his gaze doesn’t shift.

You should be listening. You’re new here and you should know what’s going on because any bits of detail are crucial to the working of your system. 

Instead, you rip out a sticky note and discreetly place it on the back of Bucky’s metal arm. He doesn’t notice.

You bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling. More post-its from your pile of stationery make their way onto the vibranium, shades of pink, purple, green and yellow decorating his arm like a bulletin board. 

You’re about to contemplate sticking one on his shoulder blade when he whips around to look at you. You freeze, hand in the air with a sticky note. He looks down at his arm, a scoff escaping him in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?” He twists his arm to check the extent of how far you’ve gone. “What are you, six?”

“How’d it take you so long to notice?” You watch as he tugs them off one by one, counting to see how many you had managed to get on there.

“It’s impossible not to zone out in these shitty meetings,” he mumbles, pulling off the last one, crumpling all of them into a ball to throw at you. You skilfully avoid them. 

“Don’t you feel pressure or heat or anything here?” You poke at his metal arm.

“No.” He clenches and releases the fist. “It can block bullets though.”

You snort. “Bet that’s a popular line in bed.”

He rolls his eyes. “I mean, it helps that I can’t feel anything. Sometimes,” he adds the last part as an afterthought. 

“Like when you’re blocking bullets.”

“Especially then.” He nods. 

“Would you ever want to?” you ask casually. “Like if you got the choice, would you prefer having feeling in that arm?”

“I don’t know.” He’s thought about it, but it doesn’t seem feasible in his line of work. He’d like it, though, to feel sand slipping through his fingers and the comforter under his palm. “Maybe when I’m retired.”

“Aren’t you well past that age?”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes. “And pay attention. You’re next.”

“So you are listening.” True to his word, Steve asks about what’s going on with your team. “Traitor.” 

Tony shoots off about how you only had to test it out on a small batch first to see if you could acquire the targeted data without compromising anything else. You chime in about a few specifics, and Bruce more or less just confirms what you both are saying, only stopping to let them know that you’d be finished in a day or two.

Steve nods, moving on to the next committee.

“Did I get a good grade?” you whisper when you lean back again.

“B minus at best.” 

“Fuck you, dude. I was great,” you protested. “It’s definitely worth a gold sticker.”

Someone shushes you sharply. You apologise quietly, whacking Bucky’s metal arm when you see a dumb smirk on his face. 

He narrows his eyes at you. 

You try sticking another post-it on him.

You’re only here for a week. That’s what he’s been told. Over six times, actually, after which he’s been told to go away the next time he asked.

No one’s brought up the job offer so he asks Tony if it was true and all he gets is a dismissive ‘yeah, whatever’. Besides, you haven’t told him if you accepted or denied it yet so isn’t sure if this entire thing is set in stone, per se.

So then why do you have a giant box of your belongings that you’re lugging around the lab, looking to set down?

And why does Tony allow you a table right in the centre of the lab for everyone to see as soon as they walk in?

There are a gazillion trinkets, picture frames and obnoxiously bright stationery that stands out against the dull minimalism of the lab.

“Every single one of these is a fire hazard,” he reports, standing over your desk.

You give him a side glance before reaching over to the side of your desk, pulling up a fire extinguisher and setting it on the table in front of him. “I came prepared, bitch boy.”

He doesn’t dignify that with a response. He chooses to look at what exactly you’ve brought with you because it’s a lot.

There are small cards with ‘thank you!’ sprawled on them in uneven lettering, bits and pieces of paper with small cartoons on them, little clay models and other miniature trophies with ‘you’re the best!’ under it.

“Your students gave you these?” He can’t remember the last time he gave his teacher anything other than a headache.

“Sometimes they learn or communicate better when they have something to keep their hands busy.” There’s a certain fondness in your voice that he isn’t used to hearing. “I end up with a lot of doodles and craft.”

“’s nice of them.” He can tell that this means a lot to you. He hasn’t seen it before.

He thinks the little decorations are adorable and maybe he’d keep another fire extinguisher on hand, just in case. 

Until you start pulling out a set of framed photos and his smile drops.

Several collages of Bucky in flower crowns, him with terribly edited backgrounds of beaches and mountains, a photo of him laughing with ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ next to it in an italicised font.

“What the fuck,” he states, grabbing one of them.

You stifle a laugh, pulling out several more to place along your table.

“Where did you fucking get these?” He starts pulling them off the table one by one.

“I don’t think you know how much the internet is obsessed with you.” You set an especially large one of him in a Hello Kitty bowtie right in the centre. He doesn’t miss the star shaped frame you chose for this.

“What is wrong with you?” He swipes that up immediately, looking for a place to discard, possibly burn these pictures. “Why do you even have these?”

“It’s imperative that people know we’re friends.” You bite your lip, bringing out the last thing to annoy him.

“What is that?” A teddy bear with a blue jacket and a grey felt arm stared into his soul.

“A Bucky bear.” Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh. “Limited edition.”

He snatches it along with the fifteen other picture frames, thinly veiled distress and mostly disgust on his face.

“I hate you.”

“But I love you.” You lift the small heart shaped locket you hung on one of the pictures of your class.

You use both your hands to click it open for him, watching his face morph into one of disbelief.

Bucky my beloved, it read on the right with a small picture of him on the left looking intensely disgruntled. He doesn’t bother asking where you found that specific picture of him outside a Burger King at 3am.

He doesn’t even make an effort to take it away this time. He knows that you’ll simply bring up more and more until you drove him crazy.

“You still have to see the Avengers calendar.” You reach for the inside. “I changed all the pictures to you, it looks great-”

He turns around and leaves before you get a chance to flip open the pages.

He wanders around, looking for the best disposal area he can find. He knows there’s a giant fireplace in the common room in the Tower, and for that, he’d have to go up a couple of floors.

He steps into the elevator, chin pressing down on the several picture frames in his hands to prevent them from falling over.

No one sees him carrying a couple of fan edited pictures and merchandise of him. Which was good.

Unfortunately, the doors ding open on the next floor and his best friend steps on with possibly the worst timing ever.

“Buck?” Steve sounds confused. He should be, considering the sight.

Bucky shimmies slightly to get a better grip on his belongings. “Steven.”

Steve glances at what he’s holding.

“Is this,” Steve pauses, trying to frame his words correctly to sound as supportive as possible, “a therapy thing?”

“No.”

Steve waits for a further explanation.

“It’s Y/N’s,” he elucidates. Steve’s eyebrows furrow.

“Why are there so many pictures of you?” He looks at the content in his hands a little closer. “And a bear.”

“She’s evil. And I hate her.”

“Alright.” It doesn’t answer his question but his friend looks irked enough.

The elevator dings to the common room floor.

Bucky turns on his heel to head toward the place to set all the pictures on fire. He saves the picture frames to give back to you though, he’s sure those cost money. But he makes sure every last square inch of the picture with several hearts around his portrait burns to ash.

Bucky knows that by the time Saturday afternoon rolls around, the three of you would have been working for thirty hours straight, scrambling to get the last minute details done.

You’re still at it but he can tell through the adrenaline of the upcoming deadline that you’re exhausted. 

Now he’s grouchy but he’s not an asshole. He’s already done two coffee runs for the team and brought you food when you didn’t show up for lunch. He mumbles something and dismisses it when you call out a ‘thank you’ his way. He considers it a debt repaid for the gyros.

He’s still keeping an eye on you but along with an emergency box of doughnuts for any sugar rushes that may be needed and bottles of water that he occasionally leaves at the corner of the table for you three to subconsciously keep yourself hydrated. 

“Are you sure we checked it?”

“Yes.” Bruce nods.

“Double checked it?”

“Yes.”

“Triple checked it.”

“Yes.” 

You look satisfied enough to move on to the next item. “Pass me the welding torch for a second.”

Bucky has a book in front of him that he hasn’t moved beyond the second page of. He’s more interested in seeing who collapses from burnout first. He has the infirmary on speed dial. 

After another hour or so Tony holds up a silver tablet, roughly the same size as a smartphone, examining it from all sides.

“That’s it,” he states. “The final product.”

You exhale lightly.

“We should name it.” You have your hands on your hips, looking down at it in wonder. Maybe the zero hours of sleep was finally kicking in because you couldn’t believe you were finally done. 

“You got any suggestions?” Tony asks. 

To be frank, no, you didn’t.

“No.”

“Okay, we’ll do that later.” Tony sets it down, not sounding too disappointed. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, tell the team to get down here, please.”

“Yes, boss.”

Bucky jumps off his chair to join you in the lab, leaving the book behind. 

It only takes a few moments for the others to join. Fury and Steve walk in together, already engaged in conversation.

“Greetings.” You clap your hands together. “We did it. We think.”

“We think?” Nick raises an eyebrow.

“We know,” Bruce clarifies quickly, stepping in. “We’re positive it works. We tested it out.”

Tony pulls up the holograph of F.R.I.D.AY’s system, sliding the tablet to the middle of the table.

“Is it secured under FRIDAY’s core?”

“Locked and loaded.” Tony hits the table lightly to signify that it was safe.

“I think we’re ready,” Bruce confirms.

“We better be, or else half the country is suddenly going to lose their internet connection,” you say under your breath.

“What?” Bucky’s eyebrows knit together.

“Nothing,” you beamed, “Okay F.R.I.D.A.Y., run sequence, global parameter.”

“Running sequence,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. parrots. 

There was no going back now. 

From what Bucky can see, Tony looks fairly confident but you have your bottom lip caged between your teeth, chewing on it nervously. 

There are several hundreds of photographs popping up and disappearing within a minute. Everything looks like it’s going according to plan.

The giant holograph of the AI dims. Your face drops when F.R.I.D.A.Y. seems to sputter to a halt. 

No one breathes.

In the midst of the tension, Clint mutters if they should play some background music. It’s followed by a swift ‘ow’ when Natasha flicks him in the shoulder.

You could hear a pin drop.

It suddenly picks back up again, running faster than the last time and the sigh everyone collectively heaves is almost comical.

It runs for a few seconds more before a list of names suddenly pop up accompanied by a series of photographs and geo locations.

“Sequence complete. Six names detected, zero encroachment on public or private databases,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. broadcasted. “Location determined to be Holland. Exact coordinates are computed into the quinjet.”

You let out a small cheer, looping your arm around Bruce, squeezing him in a half hug. He has a smile on his face, dropping his head as he laughs slightly. 

“How dangerous are they?” Tony, however, continues to ask.

“A few prior convictions and a series of similar threats. Danger level determined to be at approximately five out of ten.” 

“That’s not bad,” Steve commented. “Looks like we don’t need the full team there.”

“Romanoff, Barton, Wilson, Rogers can go ahead and take care of that,” Nick finally spoke up. “Everyone else is working security tomorrow, just in case anyone else decides that terrorism is on their fuckin’ to-do list for the day.”

“Buck, assemble a team and go over strategy for tomorrow,” Steve adds on. “Everyone else go suit up, wheels up in thirty minutes.” 

“Fuckin’ Holland,” Sam scoffs, shaking his head. “Of all the places.” 

“What do you have against Holland?” Nat asks as they leave together.

“Just don’t like ‘em.” Their voices grow faint the further they get.

“Hey.” A small greeting from behind you has you turning around.

Wanda stands in front of you and you have to ignore the fact that the most powerful being on Earth is talking to you. 

“Hey,” you say back.

“I just wanted to say congratulations. You did a great job.” Bits and pieces of her accent poked out. She didn’t seem like she was putting in the effort to cover it up as opposed to the press interviews you had heard a few years ago. 

“Thank you.” You smile. “T’was a team effort.”

“Well, we owe you one anyway,” Steve joins the conversation, leaving aside Tony who was still talking to Bruce.

“I wish I was humble enough to turn it down but I’m not.” You laugh. “It’s nice to have an arsenal of superheroes at my disposal.”

Steve looks like he’s going to respond but his attention is drawn towards F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s announcement that the quinjet was ready to go. He shoots you an apologetic look but you sign for him to go on, you’d meet with him later.

You watch as he claps Tony on the back, telling him to go get some sleep and something with more nutritional value than a pizza pocket in him, nodding at Bruce before taking leave. 

“Y/L/N,” Nick stands beside you, looking ahead at the conversations being had as Steve tugs Clint along with him.

“Nicky,” you tease.

“I know at least seven underground prisons I can put you in if anyone hears you calling me that,” he says stoically. 

“We all know you won’t get rid of me.” You shake your head. “Who’s gonna send you a Christmas card then, huh?”

He simply shakes his head, jutting his hand out and offering a handshake. “Not sure anyone here could handle another day of a highly caffeinated, sleep-deprived Stark.”

“Just say ‘thanks’, Nick, geez.” You roll your eyes. 

Bucky watches the entire interaction unfurl; only the body language, not employing the lip-reading ability. 

“You’re welcome.” You let go of his hand, a devilish look on your face. “You know what I want in return.”

Nick gives you a long, hard stare that could probably melt through Steve’s shield before turning around to leave. 

But Bucky doesn’t miss the subtle high-five he gives you while walking out, unbeknownst to anyone else, bringing the biggest grin to your face.

He makes it a point to ask you what the fuck kind of leverage you have over the man for him to play favourites with you. 

You finally collapse at your desk, letting out a loud exhale. You clench your eyes shut, your body finally melting into your chair. You look exhausted.

He’s not sure how to help. You don’t seem like you have the energy to tell him.

Bucky leaves a doughnut and water bottle on the table in front of you before shuffling out of the room quietly. 

He’s certain that he’s spent far too long in Bruce’s lab this week. He liked the man as much as the next guy, but he probably wouldn’t come down there for the foreseeable future. 

You’re at your assigned desk, reading light illuminating the space. Thankfully you’ve cleared up most of your stuff from the table, leaving no more liabilities to fall over in case he walked into the desk. 

“So you’re done for the week.” His voice surprises you. You were scrolling through your phone, slightly hunched over.

“It appears so.” You put your phone down, swivelling the chair to look at him. 

“How’d it go?” He leans against your table, making sure he isn’t using his full weight.

“Well, I slept for fifteen hours straight, so...” you leave him to connect the dots. He’s done the same several times.

“You’re probably gonna need more,” he says, mostly from his own experience, “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Actually-” you reach beside your table and lug your gigantic box of belongings onto the table with a loud thud, “-you won’t.”

He looks at the box that was nearly overflowing with its contents, the majority of the space being taken up by empty picture frames. “I thought you said Tony offered you a job.” 

“He did,” you confirm. “I didn’t accept.”

“Why?” He watches you shift through a few things, adjusting it so that it wouldn’t fall over.

“This whole thing- it’s cool and all, but it’s not what I want to do.” You shrug. “I like teaching. I miss my class.”

He gaze lands on one of the thank you notes sticking out from the corner of the box. “Ah.”

“Back to school from tomorrow.”

“And evil on the weekends?” he prods, dropping a pen into the heap of stationery. 

“Obviously.” You give him a lopsided smile. “Where else am I gonna use all this brilliance?”

You point to your head. He lets out a small exhale in the form of a laugh.

“Speaking of-” You look like you just remembered something.  

You rummage through your backpack and pull out a small container, handing it to him.

“What’s this?” He turns it over, looking for any hidden clues. “Are you proposing again, because I’ve said no-”

“I’m not proposing,” you interrupt, “yet.”

He gives you a deadpan look.

“Open it,” you urge, and he complies.

Two small squares sit side-by-side. They’re slick black, barely bigger than the face of a dice.

“You put one of them here-” You tap on his bicep “-and the other here.” You tap his shoulder, a few inches below his clavicle.

“What does it do?” He thinks it’s like Nat’s little taser things, a nifty little tool that he could use on missions.

“It, uh-” you hesitate “-it allows you to feel sensation in your metal arm. Heat, pressure, texture.”

His breath hitches in his throat. He doesn’t mean for it to happen, it just does.

“You said that sometimes you’re glad you couldn’t because of the bullets and stuff. They’re detachable, so just take them off when you go on missions and wherever it is you Spandex ambassadors go.” You scoff slightly. 

He can’t remember the last time he felt something soft with that arm or used it for something that wasn’t directly related to his job.  

“I’m not messing with what the Wakandans gave you. It’s the most advanced piece of tech out there.” You shrug. “But if you ever want to feel it when someone attaches sticky notes to your arm, this could work. Just thought it’d be nice to have an option.”

He can’t decipher what he’s feeling right now. He looks up at you, only to catch you eyeing him cautiously, assessing his reaction. When you notice he’s looking at you, a nervous smile makes its way onto your face. 

His stomach does a flip. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly. 

“Don’t mention it.” You sound a little relieved, picking up the box that he’s pretty sure weighed a ton what with all his memorabilia in it. “See you next week.”

He doesn’t know how to explain what it means to him. 

Instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets. “What are you doing later?”

“Nothing.” You pause. “Why?”

“Are you gonna watch the parade?” 

“Yeah, probably.” You shift your weight to your other leg to compensate for the box.

“Want some company?”

“Aren’t you heading a security division?” You have to consciously hide the bewilderment from your voice. 

“Yeah. The place I’m stationed just so happens to have a good look into the street,” he explains, toying with the bracelet on his wrist. “Can’t really promise that I’ll be paying attention to it or that I’d even be there the whole time but for the most part...” he trails off. 

“Uh-” You force yourself to shove aside your surprise at his determination, “yeah, sure. That’d be cool.”

He nods. “Okay. See you there.” 

“See you,” you murmur as you walk to the elevator. 

He opens the tiny container to look at the small chips. They’re still there, silently like they don’t change his world just by existing. 

Gosh.

Next part

[watchmegetobsessed]

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part One (Harry Styles)

a/n: oh my god i am sooo thankful for the love the masterlist got with just so little info about the story! it means so much to me and i really hope i won’t disappoint you with this story! i was planning to post the first part on tuesday but i got excited bc of all the feedback and reactions and decided to start earlier, so here it is, part one of TLABL, a story im kind of proud of and very happy to share! please drop by my ask box or leave your thoughts on the story, i would love to hear everything from you guys!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11.2k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

“I hope you realize this holds nothing against you, we all love and appreciate you and your work, but we had to face some unexpected problems this past year.”

You sit in front of Claire, your boss completely dumbfounded, not even comprehending what she is saying completely. You came to work this morning absolutely oblivious that today is going to be your last day of work at the daycare you’ve been working at for over two years now.

“I’m sorry, but last time you let us in on the budget you didn’t bring up any complication that might have indicated someone could lose their job, so what possible problem could have come up so abruptly?” you ask with a shocked and nervous chuckle. Part of you kind of hopes this is just some stupid joke she is playing on you, but Claire is not one to make games out of such serious things. Letting out a tired sigh she pushes her reading glasses up to the top of her head into her carefully curled hair.

“Look, I’m really trying not to make a big deal out of it, but we had to make some cuts on the budget. The kitchen and gymnasium renovation was completely unplanned and it kicked us in the butt. We are making some changes about the groups this year and it was made that it can be solved with one less person on the team. I’m sorry it had to be you, but the decision had to be made.”

“But why me?” you press. “There are two people who have been working for a shorter period of time here, didn’t I earn your trust during my time here?”

“It’s not about that, Y/N,” Claire shakes her head.

“Then what is this about?”

“If you are so keen on knowing, we’ve… received a few… complaints.” Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline, this is the first time you’re hearing about it.

“Complaints?”

“Yes. Some parents are not quite the fan of the kind of mentality you are using while teaching the kids.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, feeling all the blood rushing out of your face. This is starting to get way too nasty. Claire pinches the bridge of her nose before leaning onto her desk, clasping her hands together.

“I know that you are quite the free spirit and want to teach the kids about openness and acceptance, but not everyone is as rainbow as you are. Some kids brought the word home about what kind of books you’ve been reading and we’ve gotten a few concerns about you basically promoting the LGBTQ community for the kids.”

“I’m not promoting, I’m trying to teach them to accept everyone just the way they are, how can that upset anyone?!”

“Well, it does. The committee had to make a decision on who we should let go and many agreed that it might be the safest decision to make it be… you.”

You’re about to faint. You are sure you are about to fall off this chair and just black out. How can someone get mad about you reading stories about acceptance and treating everyone equally? What kind of monster can see it as a bad thing? And now you are losing your job over such a stupid thing that you don’t even feel responsible for.

Though you’d love to stay and try to convince Claire to not let you go, you know the decision has been made and if you’re being honest, you don’t feel comfortable anymore working at a place where parents tell you off for teaching important values for their kids. Sadly, but you sign all paperwork about your immediate parting and you leave Claire’s office to pack your stuff.

“Miss Y/N! Miss Y/N!” Izzy, one of the sweetest girls in your group basically launches herself at you, smashing against your legs as she hugs you happily. “Do you want to see what I just painted?” She blinks up at you with her gorgeous green eyes and your heart breaks that you won’t get to see her again.

“Oh, Sweetie. I have to—you know what? Sure. Show me your painting,” you smile at her warmly. You can’t say no to her, not when this is the last time you get to see her.

As you’re cleaning out your locker in the break room, Heather walks in and stops in her tracks, seeing you with your gloomy face as you pack everything into a cardboard box.

“What the hell are you doing?” she questions right away. The two of you have known each other for years now, you did the same master’s programme and somehow ended up working here together, carrying on the friendship you’ve formed through your school years.

“I was… fired,” you sigh, wincing at the words.

“What?! Why?”

“Apparently, we are having some budget problems with all the renovations that was made recently and unbeknownst to me, some parents have been complaining about my openness with kids so I was the lucky one to part ways with.”

“That’s fucking bullshit! The kids adore you, how can someone complain about something like that?”

“Don’t know, ask them if you ever find out who they are,” you mumble under your breath as you shut the now empty locker closed. “I’m sorry we can’t carpool anymore,” you pout at her.

“No fucks given about that, what are you gonna do now?” she asks, seemingly very bummed at the news that you won’t be working at the same place now.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I guess I’ll have to find something new if I don’t want to end up on the streets,” you mumble.

“Oh girl, I’m so sorry,” Heather sighs pulling you into a hug. “Why don’t we go out for drinks on Friday? Everything is on me!”

“Don’t act like I’m already broke, makes me feel like a loser.”

“Sorry,” she scowls. “Just want to brighten you up a little. Meet me at seven at that Mexican place, how does that sound?”

“Stuffing my face with nachos and tequila? Sounds like the best plan I could wish for.”

You waste no time arriving home after your worst day at work. You jump right into the job ads, looking for basically anything that might help you out of this impossible situation. Sending your resume to as many places as possible, you get a few callbacks the next few days, but you only make it to one interview on Friday and that doesn’t go well either. The man who calls in for an open position at a private kindergarten turns out to be a total snob and he doesn’t find your free spirit too fitting with the profile of his institution so you get rejected at the end of the interview.

You head out to meet Heather feeling like shit. You’ve been unemployed for four days, but it’s already breaking your spirits.

“You know what? Clair is a bitch for giving in to the complaints,” Heather slams her fourth shot glass on the table with a grimace. “She should have defended you!”

“I’m sure she just didn’t want to get into any disagreement. Some of the parents donate great amounts to the school and Claire would never risk losing that money,” you sigh rolling your eyes.

“Okay, but she is being very… not inclusive,” she narrows her eyes. “Firing someone for teaching the kids openness? Bullshit.”

“I’m just sad I don’t get to see the kids anymore. They really grew close to my heart.”

“The little fuckers can be so damn cute, almost make me want to have one.” Heather sighs, downing another shot before pulling the nachos closer to her. You laugh at her vulgar reaction, she has always had quite a dirty mouth but somehow she controls herself well around the kids. “How has the job hunting been?”

“Horrible,” you growl in frustration. There are not many that offer a good paycheck and the few that does are these posh places that expect you to treat the kids like they are made out of gold which is ridiculous. That’s not how you raise a kid!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sure something will come up soon. Why don’t you look into nanny jobs, have you thought about that?”

“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, popping some chips into your mouth.

“A lot of people prefer having nannies for their little children, some even want them to move in. My brother’s ex-girlfriend was a live-in nanny for about two years and she earned a shit ton of money, because she didn’t have to pay rent and a good chunk of the food, because the parents just treated her like part of the family and bought groceries for five people instead of four.”

“I’m not sure I’m cut out for that kind of stuff.”

“What, earning money?” Heather scoffs.

“No, living with a stranger.”

“Most of the time the nanny gets like a separated place so it wouldn’t be that bad, but you know what’s good for you. It was just an idea,” she shrugs.

Soon enough you drop any work talk not wanting to ruin the mood. You enjoy some time away from the stress of job hunting and you’re just trying to have fun with your best friend. You start talking about nostalgic memories from college and end up looking up people you graduated with on social media, checking out what they’ve been up to in the past years.

“Alright, I’m gonna go to the restroom quickly, watch out for my drink,” you announce pushing your drink closer to Heather as you head towards the restrooms.

There’s a bit of a line so you stand behind two girls chatting about some cute guy they just met and leaning against the wall you close your eyes for a moment, feeling the drinks hitting you in the head. You’re not used to drinking, haven’t really had the time to get drunk too much lately and it’s saddening to think that now that you’re unemployed, you could black out every day, you wouldn’t have anywhere to show up in the morning.

Getting deep in your thoughts you almost don’t even notice that your phone is buzzing in your pocket. When you finally realize you pull it out of your back pocket and look down at the unknown number with a scowl. You quickly leave your spot in the line and rush out to hear something as you answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I hope I’m not calling at an inconvenient time, I’m Harry Styles and I’m looking to talk to Y/N Y/L/N?” you hear a thick British accent on the other end of the line.

“This is her.”

“Great. Sorry for the late call, I’m Isabelle’s father.”

“Isabelle?” you ask in confusion, the names not really clicking in your head thanks to the shots you’ve been taking.

“Isabelle Styles? Izzy?”

“Oh! Yes! Sorry, yeah. Mr. Styles, what can I help you with?” you ask, not sure why Izzy’s dad would be calling you.

“Well I just recently learned from my daughter that you’re not working at the daycare any longer?” “Uh, yeah. Unfortunately I was fired this Monday…” you awkwardly answer.

“I’m sorry about that. Izzy has been really sad about it, I wanted to ask if you’ve found a new job already?”

“Not yet, I’ve been looking but I haven’t had much luck yet,” you confess.

“In that case I have an offer to make,” he firmly continues and you perk up at his words. “I’ve been thinking about pulling Izzy out of daycare, but I didn’t want to do it until I found someone to take good care of her. You’ve been her absolute favorite and she’s been devastated since you’ve been gone. If you’re up for a job of this kind, I would like to offer you a spot as Izzy’s nanny.”

“Oh!” is all you react, completely not expecting this call.

“I know there are a lot to discuss, but if you’re interested, I would be more than happy to have a chat with you sometime this weekend? To go over the details and see if we can make it work.”

“I, uh… Um, yeah. We can meet, that sounds good. When would it be good for you?”

“How about tomorrow afternoon?”

“That can work.”

“Amazing!” he beams. “I’ll send you the address through text if that’s alright for you.”

“Yeah, of course. When should I be there?”

“Would three o’clock suit you?”

“Absolutely,” you nod, stunned at the turn of events.

“Great, thank you so much, and once again, sorry to bother you on your Friday evening. Looking forward to see you tomorrow!”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles, see you soon!”

You get back in line at the bathroom and then make your way back to the table where Heather gives you a puzzled look.

“Did you take a massive shit or something?” she jokes as you take your seat and stare back at her, still in shock.

“No, I had a very interesting call, actually.”

“With who?”

“Um, Izzy Styles’ dad just called and offered me a job as her nanny.”

Heather almost chokes on her drink, coughing at the news. You hand her a napkin as she dries her chin off from her cocktail.

“Harry Styles wants you to be the nanny of his daughter?” she gasps.

“You know Izzy’s dad?”

“Y/N, everyone knows him! He is the sexiest man to walk this planet and not to mention that he is like stupidly rich! Have you not seen him yet?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “Izzy was picked up by an old woman most of the times, I guess I never worked when her dad came for her.”

“That explains why you’re not squirming already,” she scoffs. “That man is like… crazy hot, I’m telling you. I bumped into him one morning when I guess he was dropping Izzy off, the way he said ‘Pardon me, Darling’ made my knees shake,” she tells you, faking an accent that’s nowhere near what Mr. Styles sounded like on the phone.

“Well, I guess I’ll see him for myself. I’m meeting him tomorrow to discuss details,” you shrug and Heather slams her hand on the table.

“Oh my God! You’re gonna work for Harry Fucking Styles! Get ready because your panties will be soaking wet all the time,” she laughs like a hyena.

“Heather, stop!” you shake your head laughing too.

Following Mr. Styles’ call you decide to cut the night shorter than you intended, not wanting to look absolutely wasted when you meet him. Arriving home to your small, one bedroom apartment you take a quick shower before climbing to bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to collect your thoughts. You told Heather you’re not willing to do the whole live-in nanny thing and Mr. Styles might not even want you to live with them, but now that the option is there, you realize it might not be the worst case scenario. Especially since you’re not really swimming in other job offers and you are in desperate need of anything at this point.

Despite having consumed quite some alcohol the previous night, you wake up at a reasonable hour in the morning, finding a text from Mr. Styles about the address you’d have to be going in the afternoon. You make a quick trip to the grocery store and do some chores before you start getting ready for the meeting. You opt for a simple black dress that reaches your knees and pair it with a little funkier, flower printed blazer to bring some color into the outfit.

Punching the address into the GPS you see that it’s taking you to the outer skirt of the city to the neighborhood that’s known to have some quite luxurious estates and you immediately think back to what Heather said about him being ridiculously rich. Driving down the streets in your old Volkswagen you couldn’t stand out more at a place where at least three cars park on the driveways and one of them is a Ferrari or a Porsche.

There’s a massive security gate under the address that’s your destination and it’s left open so you can pull up to the driveway easily. You park next to a fucking Tesla, finding it extremely funny to see your car next to it, but it is what it is. Walking up to the front door you ring the bell as you take a look at the house that can easily considered to be a mansion. Guessing from the outside there are at least about five bedrooms in it and you can only imagine what other luxurious units are squeezed into it.

Soon enough the front door opens and you find yourself staring back at a breathtakingly gorgeous man, wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black suit pants, his chocolate curls falling to his forehead as his emerald eyes fall on you, a warm smile tugging on his lips.

Shit. Heather was fucking right, you think to yourself swallowing hard.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s so nice to see you. I’m Harry, Izzy’s dad, come on in!” he invites you inside before a short handshake.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Styles.”

“Please, just call me Harry. I don’t like formalities at home,” he asks you as the two of you walk further inside until you arrive to what looks like a living room, but it’s actually the size of your apartment.

“Only if you call me Y/N,” you smile at him and he nods right away.

“Miss Y/N!” you hear a small voice call out and turning around you see Izzy running down the hallway until she throws herself against your legs.

“Oh, hello Sunshine!” you hum, squatting down so you can hug her.

“I missed you!” she pouts, rubbing her eyes.

“I missed you too,” you smile at her, caressing her soft cheeks before standing up. An older lady walks in, the one you’ve seen picking up Izzy. She approaches you with a friendly smile as she extends a hand towards you.

“Hi, I’m Ruth, it’s nice to meet you.” “Y/N, nice to meet you too.”

“Ruth, would you take Izzy outside while I talk to Miss—erm, Y/N here?” Harry requests. Ruth nods and taking Izzy’s hand she lures her outside to look for ladybugs in the backyard and that immediately catches her attention. The two of them leave through the sliding door, giving you and Harry privacy.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures towards the sectional couch. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’m good, thank you,” you smile at him as he sits in an armchair across you.

The interior of the house is quite cozy, kind of modern with a hint of vintage touches that make it less rigid, a pop of color showing at most corners so it’s not too monochrome. You quite like it.

“Y/N, I once again apologize for calling you at such an inappropriate hour, but I often work late and I wanted to get in touch with you as soon as possible upon hearing the news.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand.”

“Isabelle mentioned it to me on Thursday that the other workers told her you no longer work at the daycare so I asked around a little yesterday and was informed that they let you go earlier in the week.”

“It was quite sudden for me as well,” you chuckle lightly, feeling a little anxious to talk about it.

“I know it’s not too appropriate, but I asked why they chose you to part ways with and I have to say it’s outraging that some parents are so ignorant and wayward. I’m really sorry this had to be the reason out of everything.”

“Thank you.” It actually feels nice that he thinks the same, this whole firing was ridiculous and you were losing hope in humanity, but Harry is now very much restoring it.

“Let me walk you through what the situation is here and what I was thinking about.” You nod and listen carefully. “I’m president of a record label and it consumes most of my time, I sometimes work sixty hours a week which I know is not ideal and healthy and I’m trying to change it, but it’s not an easy situation. I thought that putting Izzy into daycare was a good idea, but it’s been getting harder to work around her schedule as a single parent with so much work on my hands. Ruth is a family friend who has been helping tremendously with Izzy, but she is not getting any younger and she would like to retire fully and spend more time with her own grandkids. So I’ve been thinking about hiring a nanny for Izzy and try to make her days work around mine while I’m able to do that. She is going to start preschool in little over a year and I want to spend as much time with her as possible, but it’s not easy when the schedule depends on an institution. When she told me about your firing I had the thought that you might be interested in taking the spot as her nanny. She is obsessed with you, wouldn’t stop talking about what you do every day, and I might have also looked into your professional background. I like what I’ve seen and I’m very much into the way you’ve been dealing with the kids at the daycare. Openness is really important and I want Izzy to grow up in an environment that teaches her about being equal and supportive towards each other. I would be more than happy if you’d be the one taking care of Izzy while I’m not available.”

To say the east you’re stunned at how forward and open he was about the offer and his compliment about your professional background is quite flattering. You can tell he is doing an amazing job at raising Izzy as an open and accepting human, she was always one of the nicest and sweetest kids who always made sure to include all her peers in the games you played. And it’s obvious Harry is not just being a hypocrite, his tattooed arm, painted nails and ring clad fingers are not quite what you’d traditionally imagine a man like him wear, but he does it well and clearly doesn’t give a fuck what others might think about it.

Harry continues with how much he thought you’d be earning for the job and you almost choke on your own saliva. It’s almost three times as much as you’ve been earning at the daycare and you’d be able to save a good chunk every month which is quite amazing.

“I have to ask, were you thinking about a situation where I live with you or I’d have to be coming here every day?”

“Well, essentially it would be the easiest for everyone if you moved in. I have plenty of rooms you could choose from and you’d have access to everything else as well, of course, including the home gym, the pool, the sauna and the entertainment room. But I understand if you are not willing to make that commitment. If you choose to live here you wouldn’t be charged anything, naturally.”

This actually sounds like a dream, moving into this luxury mansion from your cramped little apartment and being able to save the money you’ve been paying on rent.

“And what would be the time management? If I moved in it would easily make me fall into a habit of always working, which is not quite ideal,” you point it out.

“Of course,” he nods. “I like to take care of her morning routine so you’d have to start around nine when I leave to the office. If we can make this deal working I’d like her to start taking some extra classes during the day, moving her activities earlier in the day so her afternoons would be free. She takes piano lessons on Mondays and Wednesdays, a swimming instructor comes here on Thursdays and she is taking French lessons every Tuesday and Friday. Everything takes place here, I would reschedule her activities to take place between nine and twelve. You wouldn’t have to worry about her during those times. You’d cover lunch time and then the afternoons. I try to get home between four and six and just work from home if it’s possible so I can be around her. You’d have to only help out whenever I can’t make it home in time I have urgent works that have to be done from home. We could have dinner time together and then her night time routine is my duty again. Ruth is willing to help me out on Saturdays and I spend Sundays with her strictly without any work distraction so you’d have the weekends off unless something comes up. In those cases I would check in with you beforehand and arrange it however it works best for you.”

You’re speechless for a moment. What he just shared doesn’t seem too bad, you might have to work a lot more, but being one on one with just one kid is much easier than dealing with fifteen of them at once. Not to mention that the money is still amazing compared to what you’d have to be doing.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, it’s an amazing offer. Izzy is such a sweet girl, I would be more than happy to take care of her.”

Harry smiles at you warmly, clearly proud of his daughter, as he should be.

“Can I ask for some time to think about it? It would be a huge commitment.” “Of course. Take your time and let me know whatever your decision is.”

“Thank you.”

Harry offers a quick tour in the house regardless, the kitchen is massive, they have a nice dining area with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out to the green slopes of the backyard that seems to be Izzy’s kingdom. She has a playhouse that could almost function as a real one, the pool is filled with floaties for her and she has her own playground further in the back with slides, monkey bars and a swing set. Your assumptions were almost right about the number of bedrooms. Beside Harry’s master and Izzy’s own room there’s one that’s been used by Ruth, one that’s for Harry’s mother and sister for whenever they are staying over and there are three additional rooms now serving as guest bedrooms, one of those would be turned into your room if you chose to move in. The gym seems better than the one you’ve been going whenever you felt like being a little active, the entertainment room has everything you could ever think about for a room this sort of and the sauna is already calling your name. Living and working here might actually feel like a vacation.

“Miss Y/N! Look what I found!” Izzy runs up to you when you and Harry step out to the backyard, holding her pointing finger up. A ladybug is wandering around her tiny finger, not even bothering with the amazed girl that’s inspecting it.

“Wow! How many dots do you see on it?” you ask and she knits her eyebrows together, counting the black dots.

“Five!”

“Yes, good job!” you ruffle her curls as she smiles up at you proudly. She really is an angel, you’ve grown to like her a lot and you would be lying if you said you didn’t get emotional over thinking about never seeing her again. Being able to take care of her and give her the best possible childhood would be such a dream and the chance to do that is right in front of you.

“I’ll be waiting for your call, Y/N,” Harry smiles at you walking you towards the front door.

“Harry, I don’t think you need to do that,” you speak up and see his face fall, he obviously took it the wrong way, thinking that you want to say no to his offer.

“Oh…”

“It’s not that,” you chuckle softly. “I would love to take the job. And if you’re still okay with that, I’d like to move in, it would make everything just so much easier.”

You watch as his expression changes from disappointed to hopeful as he cracks a smile nodding.

“Yeah, the offer is still there. When do you think you can start?”

“How soon do you want to pull Izzy out of daycare?”

“As soon as possible. If I have to I can go in on Monday and do all the paperwork. You could move in sometime during the week maybe?”

“I have to talk to my landlord about my lease, but I’m fine with moving in during the week,” you nod smiling and you can’t help but feel excited.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you so much. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

You discuss a few more details and then you head out, thinking about how the next time you’ll be coming here, you’ll be moving in.

“If this one doesn’t go to the donate box, I’m leaving right now.”

Heather holds up a pair of denim shorts, painted in the colors of the flag of the States. She holds it pinched between her index finger and thumb as if it was something nasty and disgusting

“You know I only bought that for that stupid frat party. I never wore that anywhere else, so you can put it into the donate box.”

“Thank God!” she groans and throws the shorts into said box.

It’s Sunday evening and your place looks like a warzone, boxes taking up the place everywhere as you’re packing your life up to officially move into the Styles mansion. You agreed with Harry to bring over a good chunk of your stuff on Monday and then settle in for real on Tuesday. He is pulling Izzy out of daycare first thing on Monday and you’d stay at home with her for the first time on Wednesday. It’s been a fast paced change, but you couldn’t care less. With the amount Harry is gonna pay you, you’ll be able to save up a good chunk every month, like you always wanted to.

As you finish putting your books away you reach the shelves that contain all your photo albums. Photography has been your passion for a long time. It started as a simple hobby sometime through your freshman year in high school, but in senior year, your photos filled the yearbook and you even did the design of it too. You’ve had a few gigs since then, some weddings and pregnancy shoots and you like to sell your photos individually as well. You wouldn’t have imagined how much a simple nature photo costs.

Flipping through the one on the top, you can’t help the bitter smile on your face as you see the photos from your brother’s 14th birthday three years ago. There are tons of family pictures with you, your brother Trevor and your parents, seemingly being all happy and joyful. Things were different back then and you didn’t see anything coming.

It’s past midnight by the time you more or less finish packing, you’ve filled three big boxes with things to donate so you have significantly less stuff to move to the Styles mansion in the morning. Heather spends the night, but leaves early in the morning since she needs to go to work. The moving van you rented out arrives a little after eleven and the two guys from the moving company helps you load it with about two thirds of your stuff. Harry is at work when you arrive and Izzy is still at the daycare, Ruth is the only one at home, she helps you out even though you tell her not to break a sweat over it.

“Let me help, makes me feel needed,” she chuckles sweetly when you try to get her to stop, but she insists on bringing in some smaller bags and boxes.

You’re still unpacking when Ruth arrives back with Izzy a little after four. You hear her little feet tapping against the floor as she runs down the hallway, bursting into your future room.

“Miss Y/N! You’re here!” she cheers, throwing herself into your arms as you sit on the floor, being the perfect level for the little girl.

“I am! How was your day, little Sunshine?”

“We finger painted and I made a painting for daddy, do you want to see it?”

“Of course!”

Izzy disappears to get her backpack from Ruth who is making her some snacks in the kitchen. She soon returns with her painting, presenting it to you proudly.

“Look! This is me and this is daddy!” she points at the two human-like figures, the only thing giving away who is who is that one of them is bigger than the other one. “And then this is mommy!” she then adds, pointing at a star in the upper corner of the painting and you freeze.

In the midst of everything, you didn’t even have the time to question why Harry is a single parent. To be honest your first guess would have been divorce, but Izzy’s painting is telling you something a lot more tragic.

“It’s beautiful,” you smile at her, trying to hide your surprise at the new information. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Ruth makes sure Izzy is busy while you finish up unpacking and when you’re about to be done, Harry arrives home. Approaching your room even though the door is open he knocks on the doorframe, catching your attention.

“Hello, just wanted to see how things are going. Do you need help with anything? I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to help with the boxes and all…”

“Hi! Oh don’t worry about that, I had plenty of help,” you shrug smiling. “Everything is going fine, thank you.”

“Great. I did all the paperwork today, tomorrow is going to be Izzy’s last day at daycare. You’re still up to start on Wednesday, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I only have a few things left at home so I’ll be all set by tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much,” he smiles warmly. “And thank you for being so quick about everything. It means a lot to me that I can spend more time with Izzy thanks to you. I really appreciate it.”

“I should be thanking you the opportunity. I wasn’t really drowning in the job offers,” you chuckle making him smile as well. “Please let me know if you want me to change anything, I have a plan I would like to go around with Izzy’s days, but of course, your word is the most important.”

“I trust you to take good care of her during the day. The only thing I want is to have her home when I get home. Ruth couldn’t always pick her up before and I really hated to do the extra trip and pick her up from daycare instead of coming straight home to be with her.”

“Understandable. I’ll make sure to plan accordingly,” you nod smiling.

“Y/N, I want you to feel home as much as possible. This is your place just as much as it is ours now. Izzy and I go grocery shopping every Sunday, it’s kind of a father-daughter thing we do every week. We keep a list on the fridge, feel free to add whatever you need and we’ll get it.”

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your lips, because this is such a sweet thing to do, when Harry could easily afford someone to do the work for him. Yet he still uses this time to be with his daughter.

“Yeah, sure, thank you!”

“I’ll get out of your hair now. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“Oh, no, but thank you. I still have some things to take care of before tomorrow.”

“Alright,” he nods before walking out. He leaves you thinking hard about him. You wonder what really happened to Izzy’s mom and if he is dating someone right now. A man like him is basically a dream to any woman, you doubt he is having a hard time finding a partner, but you haven’t seen any sign of another woman around the house. Guess you’ll have to wait and figure it out yourself.

The apartment is awfully empty on your last night here. When you moved in about a year ago you didn’t think you’d be moving into a mansion from here. You spend the evening cleaning out a bit so you leave the place in good condition. Your landlord was terribly nice about your early leave, you could easily agree that you’d pay for the two more weeks that’s left from the month and that would be all, no extra costs for moving out before your lease was up.

You’re cleaning off the kitchen counter when your phone starts ringing, it’s a video call from your brother.

“Hey there! What’s up?” you ask, propping up the phone on top of the microwave while you move around, doing your thing. Trevor seems to be lying in bed, a black hoodie covering his upper body.

“Hello, just wanted to see how the moving has gone today.”

Despite the ten year age gap between you and Trevor, your relationship couldn’t be better. Probably because you were old enough to see what a blessing a sibling really is when he was born.

“Everything went smoothly. I only have a few stuff to bring over, that can fit into my car tomorrow, so it’s fine.”

“Cool. How is the dude? What was his name again?”

“Harry. Harry Styles.” You see him pull his laptop to his lap and probably searches up Harry’s name before his eyes widen at the screen.

“This dude is big! He is the president of HES Records, they run some of the most popular singers these days.”

“Yeah? I was sure he is a big name judging from his mansion,” you chuckle.

“Have you looked him up yet?”

“Not really.” “Want me to read what’s here about him?”

“Sure,” you hum, continuing to clean while you listen to Trevor.

“Alright. Apparently he is thirty-one, took over the record company when he was just twenty-five because his father wanted to retire early. The number of talents working under the label has doubled since he has taken over and many of his clients have won Grammy Awards. Impressive,” he hums, scrolling down on whatever site he has just found. “He is known to be a private person, the last time he made an appearance… Oh shit…” Trevor breathes out and you turn to your phone with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?”

“Wow, this shit is heavy. It says the last time he made a public appearance was in 2017, not long before his wife was killed in a car accident.”

You freeze, feeling your stomach drop to the floor, immediately thinking back at Izzy’s painting of her family. It very much makes sense why she said the star was her mother, it must be the way Harry explained to her what happened to her mother.

“It happened in 2018, she wasn’t in the fault, a drunk driver ignored the red light and ran into her car at a crossroad. This is terrible, oh God.”

“Poor Izzy, she probably doesn’t even know what really happened.”

“Must have been hard on him, there’s not much about him since then.”

“Can’t blame him for not wanting to be in the spotlight after losing his wife.”

“Yeah.”

Trevor shows you a few pictures of him from years ago, he has always been handsome, but your favorites are the few from the times when he had long hair. He looked so different, like a whole other person, but still, he rocked it perfectly.

Then you show Trevor around in the empty apartment before loving to the couch, turning all your attention to him.

“How have things been?” you ask with a sigh. Trevor purses his lips and shrugs.

“Other than the constant screaming matches on the phone and endless fights every time dad comes over for more of his stuff? Everything is rainbows and butterflies.”

“Is it really that bad?” you scowl.

“It’s like they never run out of stuff to throw at each other, but I feel like this much couldn’t happen even in their twenty-eight years together,” he scoffs making you chuckle.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle of all that.”

“It’s like payback,” he hums and you give him a puzzled look. “You had it bad growing up for being the surprise baby, making them teen parents. Then I came at a reasonable time, they already knew the drill, but now that you’re out of the house I’m getting all the shit, having to deal with their divorce.”

“I’m really sorry, Trev,” you sigh, feeling guilty that he is all alone at home.

“It’s fine, I don’t blame you,” he shrugs. “But you could make it better if you asked your millionaire boss if I could hang out at his house sometimes.” He grins at you slyly and you roll your eyes. Of course he is already thinking about using you for his own good!

“I don’t want to push the boundaries just yet, but I’ll see what I can do.”

You talk a little more about school and what he’s been up to with his friends before ending the call. You take a shower and go to bed right away, feeling extremely worn out from all the packing you’ve done through the day.

The next day you pack the remainder of your stuff into your car and then your landlord comes over to do a checkup, though he fully trusts you took good care of the place.

“Again, thank you for your understanding, I didn’t plan to leave so early, but it just kinda came up,” you tell him, handing him over your keys.

“Don’t worry about it. I hope your new place will treat you right,” he smiles kindly at you.

You chat a little longer before you leave and head over to your new home. Once again, Ruth is the only one home and being the angel that she is, she helps you to carry your stuff up from the car before leaving to get Izzy from daycare. Since there’s not much left to unpack you finish quite fast, leaving you some extra time alone in the house. Walking around you try to learn your way around, still finding it a bit of a maze. You find Harry’s home office’s door open and after a bit of hesitation you step inside, just taking a look around. Yeah, it’s kind of a nosy thing to do, but you couldn’t help yourself.

His space is quite clear, he keeps his stuff neatly organized. Certificates and plaques are hung up on the wall, showing off his many successes in the business. There’s a huge bookcase near his desk and there you see some family photos… ones that include his late wife as well.

She was beautiful. There’s a picture of the three of them in the hospital from the day Izzy was born, Harry has an arm around his wife’s shoulders who is holding baby Izzy, both of them radiating happiness as they just become parents. Your heart breaks when you see the photo next to it, it’s just Harry and her in Paris, the Eiffel tower standing tall behind them as they are grinning widely at each other, foreheads touching. Harry has his arms wrapped around her slim figure while she is hugging his neck. They look so happy and in love, like they were always meant to be with each other. Knowing what tragedy hit them is just hard to process even for you, who never even met the woman.

You hear the front door open and Izzy is laughing at something, so you rush out before anyone could catch you snooping around.

“Hi Miss Y/N!” she chirps upon seeing you when you meet them in the living room.

“Izzy, you don’t have to call me Miss Y/N, Y/N is perfectly fine,” you smile at her, caressing her rosy cheeks.

“Okay. Ruth, can I please have some ice-cream?”

“I’m afraid we ran out of ice-cream, but I’ll put it on your grocery list,” Ruth tells her, a pout tugging on Izzy’s lips.

“How about this: I’m gonna make a delicious smoothie, that’s almost like melted ice-cream, would you like some?” you offer and her eyes brighten up immediately, nodding right away.

While Ruth puts away Izzy’s things they brought home from daycare, while the two of you move to the kitchen to make the smoothie together. You find some frozen berries in the freezer and pair them with bananas, putting them all into the blender with oatmilk, blending it all together.

“How is it?” you ask Izzy, who is sitting on top of the counter, tasting the pink smoothie that leaves a cute little mustache above her cherry lips.

“I like it!” she smiles, scrunching her nose.

“We can make it some other time then,” you smile, drinking up your portion.

Izzy is dancing around the kitchen, babbling about her last day at daycare while you clean the glasses and the blender when Harry arrives. He is wearing a baby blue suit with a crispy dress shirt underneath, looking fashionable but still business appropriate at the same time.

“Daddy!” Izzy launches towards her daddy, who catches her, throwing her into the air before holding her in his arms, joining you in the kitchen.

“Hey baby. How was your day?”

“Good, all my friends hugged me but I told them we would meet in the park.”

“That’s right, and I have the number of all your friends’ parents, we can have playdates with them whenever you want to,” he smiles before his eyes meet yours. “Hi Y/N, everything went well with the rest of your moving?”

“Yeah, I’m all set,” you smile back at him.

“That’s great. I have a few calls to make, but I’ll be done in thirty probably. Would you mind looking out for Izzy in the meanwhile?”

“Of course. She promised me to take me around her room, so we could do that, what do you say?” you ask the little girl who nods in excitement.

Harry disappears in his office and Izzy pulls you to her room, showing you just about every toy she owns. Her room is a typical girl’s room, the walls are painted a light pink color, her bedframe resembles a castle and she has a dollhouse as big as your previous bathroom. Harry clearly spoils her rotten, but what you noticed is that she is not one of those annoying bratty only children who can’t take no. She was clearly taught how to behave and always listen to the adults.

While Izzy is putting her stuffed animals away after introducing you to all of them, you spot a photo frame near her bed, decorated with macaroni. You remember when you all did that together at daycare and now you get to see the photo that ended up behind the glass.

It’s a photo of Izzy and her mother, she was just a baby and doing quick math in your head you realize it must have been not long before her accident, might even be the last picture taken of the two of them. Her mom is smiling at the camera while Izzy is sleeping in her arms peacefully. Izzy looked a lot like her when she was a baby, the bridge of her nose and her lips resembled her mother’s, though now she appears to take more after her dad with her chocolate curls and piercing green eyes.

“That’s my mommy,” she tells you when she sees you looking at the photo.

“It’s a nice picture,” you smile at her, trying your best to hide how heartbroken you feel even just looking at the photo.

“Daddy said she had to go up to the sky, but she is watching me from there,” she explains, clearly not entirely sure what it means, but you can tell she misses her. “Daddy said she is living between the stars now and that she loves me very much.” You need to fight your tears back at her words.

“I’m sure of that too,” you breathe out smiling at her.

“Izzy, do you want to help me make dinner?” Harry walks in smiling, though it disappears for a moment when he sees the two of you looking at the photo of his wife, but he is quick to control himself.

“Yes! What are we making?” she runs over to him, jumping up and down.

“Uh, chicken and veggies.”

You step away from the photo, pretending like nothing just happened. You’re dying to discuss it with Harry, hear him talk about it, but you won’t push him. If he wants to share it, he’ll come to you.

“Alright, come on then,” he smiles down at her. “Thank you for watching her, I’ll take over from here. Food will be ready in about an hour, Ruth is staying with us as well,” he informs you.

“Great, I’ll… I’ll be in my room,” you nod.

The first two weeks on the job brush past smoothly. It takes you some time to get used to your new home, but taking care of Izzy doesn’t feel like work, so you’re feeling amazing in your new job. You easily fall into a schedule with her.

The mornings are always Harry’s duty. He wakes her up around seven-thirty, makes her breakfast and dresses her for the day before he leaves around nine. Thanks to this habit of his, you’re able to sleep in until eight, leaving you plenty of time to get ready for your day with Izzy before Harry has to leave. Depending on the weather, the two of you then either take over the back yard or move to her room for some play time before her class of the day starts in the noon. Piano with Rosaline on Mondays and Wednesdays, French lesson with Lyon on Tuesdays and Fridays and then Izzy’s favorite on Thursdays, swimming class with Kitty.

Izzy loves to help in the kitchen so you usually make lunch together. Once her tummy is full she takes a nap before you sit down to learn something new every day. You’ve been teaching her the numbers and the alphabet, or some days you just talk about anything that interests her and learn at least two things she hasn’t know yet, all through games so she doesn’t even realize what you’re doing. You’re usually done by around three, leaving you time to take a visit to the park, if Harry is not planning to take her himself later that day.

You’re strictly home by four, unless it’s Tuesday when she has her dance class until five. Those days you drive her to her class, run some quick errands and pick her up. Harry usually uses his extra time in the office on these days, but he is always home by six to have dinner together with his daughter.

Once Harry is home you’re off duty, though you like to stay close, not just in case something comes up for Harry, but because you genuinely like spending time with Izzy and Harry, seeing them interacting.

Harry sometimes has to work on Saturdays as well, but just as he promised Ruth is always here to take over duty on those days, leaving you free for the whole weekend. It’s been working perfectly for you and those very few concerns you had about moving in dissolve quite fast as soon as you start working.

Though it’s been pretty clear to you before, you now one hundred percent sure that Harry is living for his daughter. She is always a priority, he doesn’t hesitate to decline any work calls he gets in the evenings if Izzy needs him, if she is a little fussy and wants her daddy’s attention or when they are in the middle of a game. He is clearly trying to keep a balance between his work and role as a father and from what you’ve seen, it seems like he is doing an amazing job in that. However you haven’t learned much else about him. He is all friendly towards you, but makes sure to keep it business casual, not quite keen on getting to know each other better as just friends, maybe.

A Friday afternoon you’re having a little tea party in the backyard with Izzy when Harry arrives home, but this time, he is not alone. Through the sliding door you spot him with a blonde guy who is talking very articulately as Harry is typing on his phone. The man looks about Harry’s age, but you can’t tell if he is a friend or a business partner, but if Harry brought him home, he is more likely to be a friend of his.

“Uncle Niall!” Izzy gasps when he spots the man through the glass and abandoning the tea party, she starts running towards the door. The man spots her and slides the door open grinning widely before she jumps into his arms.

“Little bugger! How are ya?” the man laughs, holding Izzy in a tight hug before leaning back to take a good look at her. You notice his thick Irish accent and it suits his appearance quite well. You head inside as well, in case Harry needs Izzy busy for a little longer, though he doesn’t mind having her around, kissing the top of her head before finishing up whatever he was doing on his phone, watching Niall and Izzy smiling.

“I’m having a tea party with Y/N, wanna join?” Izzy invites the man, who then looks at you for the first time, smiling widely.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Izzy’s new nanny,” you introduce yourself, holding out a hand that he shakes, keeping Izzy in his other arm without a problem.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Niall.”

“Y/N, Niall is an old friend of mine. He is joining us for dinner, hope you don’t mind,” Harry informs you and you find it funny how he is kind of asking for your approval when it’s his house.

“Not at all.”

“Harry has told me he hired a pair of new hands to help, but he didn’t mention it’s a stunning young woman!” Niall beams, making you blush right away.

“Ni, I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to pick up my daughter’s new nanny,” Harry warns him lightly, though there’s some firmness in his tone, not that it scares Niall in any way, he even winks at you.

“Oh come on, you can’t expect me not to flirt when you surround yourself with so many pretty women! First Ruth and now Y/N!”

You smile at him, something is telling you he wasn’t joking and he tried to flirt with Ruth as well. Harry just rolls his eyes at his friend, taking Izzy from him.

“Keep it in your pants, Niall,” Harry tells him and though it’s nothing vulgar, it catches Izzy’s attention.

“What should he keep in his pants?” she questions, making your and Harry’s eyes grow big right away. Luckily, Niall keeps his cool and takes care of the situation.

“My attitude, Sweetie. Your daddy is just jealous because I’m more handsome than he is,” he smirks at the little girl, successfully avoiding an awkward conversation about what it is that Niall should keep in his pants.

You smile at his reply, even though you are not that sure about the comparison he just made between himself and Harry.

“Izzy, do you want to continue the tea party?” you ask her and even though just a minute ago she was inviting Niall to join her, now she shakes her head no. “Alright, I’ll pack it up then.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We’ll do it, right Izzy? She brought it all out, she is going to be the one packing it up,” Harry reminds her and she nods.

The two of them move outside to put her little tea set back into the basket she keeps it in, leaving you and Niall alone.

“So Y/N, how did you end up here?”

“I was working at Izzy’s daycare, but they sent me away not long ago. Then Harry contacted me and offered the job which was a lifesaver, truly.”

“That’s great! Well, not that you got fired, but that you ended up here. I know it means a lot for Harry that he can spend more time with Izzy, you’re making everything a lot easier for him.” Niall walks over into the kitchen and grabs a water for himself as he leans against the counter. “I can see that he is a lot more relaxed now already.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised.

“Yeah. I know he always used to stress about picking Izzy up, or forgetting something the daycare asked for. Now he can make it all work just how he wants to, that fits him a lot more. It hasn’t been easy on him since Maggie’s death.”

This is the first time you hear anyone talk about Harry’s wife and now you just learned her name. Maggie.

“Being a single parents is never easy,” you add with a soft smile, not wanting to interrogate Niall about Maggie. It’s Harry’s place to tell you about her, if he wants to, of course.

Soon enough Izzy and Harry take over the kitchen, Niall helping them this time and you leave them alone, taking some time for yourself in your room. Later you go out to check if there’s anything you could help with, Harry asks you to set the table as he finishes up the cooking.

“So, Y/N. Tell me a little bit about yourself!” Niall asks you over dinner.

“Um, what do you want to know?” you ask, feeling a little flustered to be in the spotlight.

“I don’t know, family, friends, hobbies?”

“Well, I have a younger brother, Trevor. He is seventeen and already taller than me.”

“Oh, that seems like a big age gap.”

“Ten years, to be exact,” you nod. “He was planned, I wasn’t,” you add with a soft chuckle. “But we have a great relationship, so it’s all good. We talk almost every day.”

“I’m sure you’ll get well along with Gemma then!” Niall beams, glancing at Harry.

“Gemma is my sister,” Harry explains. “Though she is not that much older than me.”

“But you can bond over being stuck with a younger brother who outgrew you,” Niall jokes making all three of you laugh.

All through dinner you realize how different Niall is from Harry, but in a good way. While Harry is more quiet and calm, Niall is kind of all over the place, buzzing and chatting every chance he got, but the two of them make a great pair, bringing what the other doesn’t have to the table.

After dinner you attempt to leave them again, but Niall makes you stay as they open a glass of wine. Harry puts on a movie for Izzy to keep her busy, giving the three of you a chance to sit out at the terrace from where you still can keep an eye on the little girl inside.

“Alright, Y/N. When are we going on our first date then?” Niall asks out of the blue, a cocky smile tugging on his lips.

“Niall, for fuck’s sake,” Harry breathes out as you let out an awkward chuckle.

“What? I think there’s some electricity going on between us.”

“I, uhh—I don’t…”

“Please don’t turn me down!” he sighs dramatically, making you smile.

“You’ve been great company, but I’m not sure we should go out,” you tell him. He huffs in disappointment, but it’s clear he didn’t take it to his heart.

“Is it because you’re taken? I didn’t even ask, are you dating anyone? You can’t be engaged, because I don’t see any rings,” he points out, nodding towards your naked fingers, however his words make you suck on your breath.

“I’m not engaged. Not anymore,” you admit and you watch their eyes go wide at the information.

“Wait, you’ve been engaged before?” Harry asks, clearly surprised, if not shocked.

“Yeah. For about four months,” you nod, running your tongue over your lips as you reach for your wine, taking a few large gulps.

“And what did the fucker do?” Niall bluntly questions, earning a look from Harry. “What? I’m just curious what twat it takes to lose a woman like her!”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about that,” Harry presses, but you shrug.

“It’s not a secret. We dated for about two years before he proposed. I said yes, started planning the wedding and everything, then found out that he had been cheating on me with his assistant for about a year. We broke up, simple as that. It’s in the past, happened a year ago.”

“That’s some next level asshole bullshit,” Niall shakes his head while Harry is just staring at you with an unreadable look before he turns his attention at his glass, still clearly deep in his thoughts and you wonder what he thinks of you now. Here is the loser who not only got cheated on, but lost her job, all of that just in one year.

Harry doesn’t react, and a moment later Izzy comes out because she is thirsty, so daddy duties call him away. Niall stays a little, but heads home soon as well.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N. The date still stands though,” he smirks when he pulls back from the short hug he enveloped you in.

“Alright,” you chuckle, slowly getting used to his flirty act.

You was the wine glasses and head back to your room while Harry walks Niall out and then takes Izzy upstairs to give her a bath. You don’t cross paths until later when you leave your room, already in your pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt to grab some water for yourself and he walks out of Izzy’s room just then, probably done with putting her to sleep.

“I’m sorry if Niall made you uncomfortable, he didn’t mean to be rude or anything,” he apologizes as the two of you walk together.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you chuckle softly. “It was kind of a boost to my ego, if I’m being honest.”

Harry huffs with a smile and stops at the kitchen island, his fingers tapping on his lips as you grab yourself a bottled water.

“I’m… I’m sorry about… about what you told us earlier.”

Closing the fridge you look at him, seeing that he is kind of hesitant, like he is not sure he should have spoken up, but you appreciate the thought.

“It’s alright. Just water under the bridge,” you shrug.

“I just feel bad you had to go through that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you chuckle softly. “It sucked, yeah. I really thought I would live happily ever after with Keith, but instead I got a lesson.”

“A lesson?”

“When we broke up I was obviously on the floor, both literal and theoretical way. I thought it was my fault, that I did something wrong and that’s why he did what he did. I even thought that I’m not worthy of being loved and being in love again. Took me time to realize that no matter what happened, I still deserve to be happy and to find someone to love and who can love me back.”

It appears that your words touch him deep, staring back at you, he just nods shortly, not replying to anything you just said. You’re not sure he is so silent because he doesn’t really understand what you just talked about or if it hit too close to home. Whatever it is, he keeps it to himself.

“Good night, Harry,” you smile at him before walking out of the kitchen and up into your room.

You’re lying in bed already when you hear him open his room’s door and then close it and suddenly he is all you can think about. The way his eyes sometimes pierce down on you, the way he taps his fingers against his lips when he is thinking hard or the proud smile that always plasters across his face whenever he is watching Izzy do basically anything. But you do see some pain in those beautiful green eyes of his and your desire to take just the smallest fracture of it away grows, even though he is not showing any sign that he is willing to share it with you.

The next morning, despite having the day off, you wake up quite early. You toss and turn, try to fall back asleep a little longer, but you just can’t. It’s a nice, warm morning and you decide to take advantage of the little balcony attached to your room. Wrapping yourself in your fluffy robe you grab the book you started reading a few days ago and sit out, enjoying the morning Sun that’s shining right at you on the balcony.

You don’t even realize for a while that you’re not the only early riser. When your eyes wander down to the big oak tree that’s near Izzy’s playground, you spot Harry doing what appears to be yoga on a green mattress, wearing nothing else, just a pair of black shorts. No shirt.

For a moment you think about going inside, feeling like you’re invading his privacy in a way, but you have the right to enjoy the morning Sun on your balcony, it’s not your fault he decided to have yoga at the exact same time. And it’s just hard not to look at his shirtless body stretching in all directions, twisting and turning as he goes through the motions, his tattooed body on full display.

It’s been clear since the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time that Harry is probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever met and that includes all your exes. Paired with his kind of mysterious charisma and the way he takes care of his daughter, he is the whole package, but you have been busy with Izzy to dwell too long on how attractive he really is. But right now, you are not working and he is very much shirtless in the backyard, teasing you with thoughts you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about when it comes to your boss.

A shaky breath leaves your mouth as you let yourself watch him just for a few more minutes before heading back inside, not wanting to get busted for being a stalker and also not wanting to see him in more positions and have even more unholy thoughts about him.

But what you don’t know is that just as you step inside, Harry catches your figure disappearing in your room, knowing well you saw him too.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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[quartzwriting]

The Agent and Her Sorcerer

Pairing: Doctor Strange X Fem!Reader

Description: You, an agent who works with The Avengers, comes back to the compound to find that Doctor Strange has brought you coffee.

Warnings: mentions of drinking and doing the dirty

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: Originally posted on Quotev | Things have been busy, so has mental heath things, so idk when new things will come out. I love this piece tho so I hope this makes up for it. 

Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee

Gif by @cumberbatchlives

Technically a sequel to The Sorcerer and The Agent

When you stepped off the jet and onto the landing, you let out a long breath of relief. That field mission was finally over. It was an early call that got you out of bed before the sun came up. Too early for your body to function, but with the encouragement of coffee and Captain Rogers forcing you out of bed, you conquered the task. You checked your phone for the time, it was now around noon. You were ready to sit down, maybe even take a nap. You desperately needed a break.

But you knew you would not be able to rest.

Tony was already on your ass. He came out of nowhere, scaring the life back into you, and shoved a tablet in your hands. "Before you file your report, you got another one."

You groaned, falling into step beside him to make your way into the building. "Already?"

Tony pushed a few things on your tablet and an image came up. It was one of the objects you had recovered from this morning's mission. On the side was a stream of jumbled letters and numbers.

"Decoding, seriously?"

Tony shrugged, with a grin on his face that you wanted to punch off. "Hey, you're best for the job."

"Can't FRIDAY just run through it?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

You glared at him.

"Come on, you got this."

You rolled your eyes, "Fine. Only because it might give us a new lead."

"Atta girl! Don't stress yourself out."

You were already stressed.

"Oh and by the way, someone in the lounge is here to see you."

After a brief moment of surprise, you knew who it was. Tony saw the smile appear on your face, then winked at you. You rolled your eyes at him.

You tucked the tablet under your arm and made your way to the lounge. Maybe you were getting a little break before continuing for the day after all. A small amount of energy that came from your happiness pushed you forwards.

When you got there, sure enough, there he was.

"Hey, I thought you might want coffee."

You chuckled. Of course you wanted coffee.

Stephen Strange had a coffee tray in his hands that had two cups in it. He was standing around looking a little awkward, a little out of place at the compound. He looked relived to see you, as if anyone else in the doorway would made him embarrassed. His serious demeanor was no where in sight, a hint of warmth in his cheeks.

He wasn't wearing his sorcerer robes, but casual clothes. A jacket, dark jeans, sneakers, a t-shirt, simple things that you got to see him in more often now. You liked it. Very much.

Without any hesitation, you made your way over to him. Giving him a big smile the entire way. You put your tablet down so you could take the cup he was holding out for you. "Thank you." Your gloved hands brushed against his bare shaking ones. The contact was enough to widen your smile.

"Don't mention it."

"Hi! How are you? What's new?" You asked him, leaning one hand on a table and sipping your coffee with the other.

Stephen let out a breath, "Well this morning I helped to try and close a dimensional rip in space time. If we hadn't managed to close it then it would have swallowed an entire country."

"Sounds exciting, Doctor." You hid a smirk behind a look of playfully exaggerated interest.

"Oh it was." He was trying to hide a smirk too, "How about you, Agent (L/N)?" His cheek twitched, trying desperately to not let that smirk slide through.

"Well I just came back from a mission in London where an very well hidden Hydra base was found. There were a few of their agents there, kicked some ass, and managed to recover some of their tech and files. You know, normal things."

"This is a very casual conversation despite its content." He commented.

You both broke after that, smirks turning into fits of chuckles. You reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

The two of you were developing into a 'thing' recently. Whenever he would come to the compound, you would have your eye on him. And you could feel his eye on you as well. It had been going back and forth for a while, finding excuses to talk to each other and purposely being in the same room as one another. Casual attraction.

You noticed the little details in him. Taking every opportunity to make a snarky comment during meetings. Dedication and a 'cool calm' overtaking him whenever disusing anything serious. His gaze of sparkling blue, sharp features, and welcoming smile. The very presence of him either made your heart stop or quicken, sometimes both simultaneously.

Whenever you were both having a conversation, whether for work or just friendly chatter, you found yourself entranced by him. His voice, his gorgeous face, his personality. Not casual attraction anymore, you were sightly obsessed.

But there was always this look in his eyes, that he recognized your attraction to him. And a look that told you he had similar emotions. You just knew it. You paid attention to him. You noticed him paying attention to you with interest, catching him staring on occasion.

Things had went from zero to one hundred at a party that Tony threw last week. You had a little too much to drink. Stephen did too. You found yourselves alone. Things escalated from there. You woke up the next morning in his bed in the New York sanctum, cuddled in his arms. You both went out for breakfast that morning. He took you out for dinner a day after.

Ever since then, he shows up at the compound when he can, or calls you to ask how you are doing. Work for both of you has gotten pretty busy lately so finding time to go out together was hard. But you promised each other another date as soon as you both were free.

This was a long time coming, you both knew that. All it took was one little push. But you did not expect that push to be a little alcohol. It happened anyways, so you decided to take it without complaints.

Stephen looked around, making sure no one else was in the room to intrude. After confirming, he leaned down and stole a kiss from you. You giggled and let him, leaning up into him. He pulled away to let you have another sip of your coffee.

He wasn't drinking from his own cup. You felt his eyes on you. It did not take long to figure out why. You were still in your uniform, one that is similar to Natasha's. Black bodysuit, weapons belt. Skin tight. A blush crept up on your face, some memories coming back from that night. He has seen you wearing this before, but now his gaze had a different weight to it.

"Liking the view, Strange?" You asked with a raised eyebrow and mischief glittering in your eyes.

He shrugged, "Now that I know what it all looks like, I like the view even more." Casual. Calm. Cocky.

You playfully smacked him on the shoulder, bringing his hint of a smile into light. Tucking the tablet under your arm, coffee in one hand and Stephen's own hand in another, you pulled him over to one of the couches. The two of you sat down. "I have a little tech and paperwork to do right now. You're welcome to stay while I do it, if you're free."

He relaxed beside you, an arm slinging over the back of the couch. "I've got time. Wong is watching the Sanctum, I have the afternoon off."

"Maybe if I finish early we can go out?" You asked with a perky smile.

He gestured to your open tablet. "Better get to work then." You laughed, quickly kissed him, and did get to work. You explained to him your tasks, the decoding you needed to do and then fill out your mission report file. He seemed interested, looking over your shoulder the whole time as you explained your process. He watched you complete the decoding, send the results to the cloud, and start typing away at your morning's mission report.

Stephen's presence behind you the entire time was comforting, taking away some of the stress of your busy work. His warmth and the smell of coffee in the air made you content. You felt him start to fiddle with the tails of your hair, you jokingly swatting him away before he went right back to it.

During the breakfast date, and the dinner date, you saw more little things about him you liked. There was curiosity and interest in his eyes. Behind that serious shell was gentleness and kindness, a full heart who thinks for others. It was like after that night, you got to see the real Stephen Strange, not the Sorcerer Supreme. He was a gentle lover, even drunk, making sure you were comfortable the entire time. Eating out together, he was a gentleman. Seeing him around the compound, he seemed to be smiling more.

You never knew the great Doctor Stephen Strange was a total softy. It made you like him even more.

While writing, you found yourself putting extra care into reviewing the mission and its details. This may have been caused by knowing Stephen was watching your every move and you wanted to make a good impression of your work ethic. You made sure to skim through for any mistakes or typos in your writing as well. After some time, discarded cups on the coffee table and Stephen now subtly nuzzling your neck, you submitted your report.

"Do you have to do that after every mission?" The man who was practically wrapping his entire body around yours on the couch asked.

"Yeah. That was one of the longer ones. Most things were more straightforward this time around, but I did a lot in London today." You heaved a sigh, momentary wiggled out of Stephen's arms to plunk your tablet down on the coffee table, and relaxed back into the couch.

"Have anything else to do?" He asked.

"Not currently." You turned to him, now giving him your full attention. He seemed to like it.

"Well then, maybe you and me can go grab lunch?"

"I'd like that."

You watched his eyes dip down, briefly glancing at your lips before looking back up at your eyes. You caught him. This told you what he was thinking about, and soon you were thinking about it yourself. And then you were doing it. One of his hands rested on your cheek, the other found your waist as he kissed you. Your hands tangled around his neck and up into his hair gently.

It was like you lost track of time. You just focused on Stephen, a hand of his running over the fabric of your tight uniform.

"I'm glad Tony threw that party."

You and Stephen urgently parted at the interruption. Standing in the doorway, Steve and Natasha had smug grins. They were still in their uniforms from the mission, Steve's shield strapped across his back. You groaned.

When you told only one person that you went home with Stephen that night, it had spread through the compound like wildfire. Your coworkers all knew, and they were relieved. Finally, they had said. You must have not noticed how obvious you and Stephen's electric stares and intrigued chatter were.

You were a little embarrassed at being caught making out, but the embarrassment practically radiated off Stephen. He immediately straightened upright and cleared his throat. Apparently he did not show his vulnerable side to anyone but you, him instantly clicking back into a neutral expression when facing someone else.

Nat got right to the point, ignoring the irritated look on your face, "We got a new lead. There was a new location marked in one of their files found in London. Venice. We leave in thirty."

A frown glazed your features. You were really looking forward to spending some time with Stephen again. You looked at Stephen, who shared a mutual disappointed look in his eyes. But you knew that he would go let you work. It was annoying.

It wouldn't hurt to ask. Would it?

You stood up from the couch, grabbing your tablet to pull up your report again. You strided towards your bosses, a lick of confidence in your posture.

"Um actually I was kinda hoping if I could get the rest of the day off." You sang.

Steve let out a breath in a smug laugh, while Nat was hiding one of her own.

With a smile, you handed Nat your tablet, the mission report on the screen. Clean, detailed, care put into it, reflecting your hard work you had accomplished all morning. You saw her eyes look it over, the captain leaning in to do the same.

"You did work hard this morning." Steve pointed out.

"And you did eventually save our asses in the end." Nat added.

As you said to Stephen earlier, you did kick ass during the mission.

You gave them a look of hope. It was obvious what you wanted, they both knew it. For some reason you felt like they were lengthening the moment to tease you. To leave you in anticipation.

After what felt like minutes instead of seconds, the two turned to each other and exchanged expressions. Steve nodded. Natasha handed back your tablet.

"Go play with your sorcerer and his magic hands." Natasha whispered to you with a wink. A deep blush crept up onto your neck, and you saw her smirk. Scrunching your face up in a mock sneer, you snatched your tablet back.

"Have fun, you two." Steve said as a goodbye, and him and Natasha left the lounge to get ready for part two of today's investigation.

You turned back to Stephen. He had an impressed look on his face. Now standing, he threw away your empty coffee cups in a nearby bin."You didn't have to do that, you know."

"Too bad. Already did." You shrugged, sauntering back over to stand in front of him.

Stephen gave you a smile, and opened a slingring portal right in front of you both. "Then lets go."

You put down your tablet and went to empty your weapons belt. "I'm still in uniform, Stephen." You laughed, "I should go change first."

The sorcerer snapped his fingers, and your skintight Avengers uniform turned into a pair of leggings and a blouse. An outfit Stephen had complimented you on last week. You were surprised he remembered it.

You rolled your eyes at him, and before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the portal.

[thetravelerwrites]

Bashir (Troll) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationships: Female Human/Male Troll (World of Warcraft Design) Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Troll, Fake Dating, Hired Boyfriend, Fake Boyfriend Content Warnings: Stalker Ex-Boyfriend, Stalking, Mention of Guns, Brief Violence Series: OkCryptid Words: 6365

A commission for @floral-and-fine​​! A woman getting out of a bad relationship has moved across her home state to get away from her controlling ex-boyfriend, only for him to show up at her job. Scared, she goes on OkCryptid to recruit a "boyfriend" in hopes of frightening him off. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

>Hi. I know we don’t know each other and this is pretty sudden, but I have a proposition for you, and it isn’t what you think.

Vague, yes, but it would catch his attention quickly enough, you thought. You were desperate and didn’t know what else to do.

>Oh, He messaged not long after. >What would that be?

>I want to pay you to go out with me for a while.

>I’m not a prostitute. Lol

>That’s not what I mean, You replied, rolling your eyes. >I know this sounds weird, and if I had more money I’d probably just hire a bodyguard, but I don’t.

>Why would you need a bodyguard?

You sighed. >I have a stalker ex-boyfriend. I dated him for about five months, but he was really possessive and crazy so I broke it off, and now he won’t leave me alone. I moved here last month from across the state and he followed me. He showed up at my work today.

>Ah, I see. So you want me to rip his arms off?

>No, I just want him to see me with someone who is big enough to rip his arms off. Maybe it’ll scare him away. You’re the biggest guy I could find on here. Well, I did find a cyclops that was pretty big, but she wasn’t interested.

>Have you gone to the police about this?

>Yeah, but they said unless I get proof he has intent to do harm, there’s nothing I can do. I can’t even get a restraining order unless he hurts me or causes property damage. It’s like he has to beat me up before they’ll do anything, and I’d rather not let it get that far.

>Gotcha. Why don’t we don’t meet for coffee tomorrow and talk it over?

>That sounds great. I’m free at lunch.

>Me too. I’ll meet you at Leo’s Diner, you know that one?

>No, but I can Google it. See you tomorrow at 11.

Bashir arrived right on time at eleven the next morning. He was a large troll, dark blue in color, with large, off-white tusks jutting out from the sides of his mouth and his long red hair braided in several placed and pulled back at the nape of his neck. He was muscular, thick in the waist, and around nine feet tall. He wore a suit, which was finely tailored to his body. You raised your eyebrows: his profile was sparse, so you didn’t know what kind of job he did; you’d only chosen him because of his picture. But dressed like that, you were surprised he even agreed to take this “job.”

“Hi, you’re the one I’m supposed to meet today, right?” He said, extending his hand.

“Yes,” You replied, standing and shaking his hand. Your hand was dwarfed in his. “Thanks for agreeing.”

“It’s no trouble,” He said, gesturing for you to sit back down as he took a seat opposite you. “So tell me about this boyfriend of yours.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” You said. “His name is Jake. I met him at work; we worked in the same department. He seemed nice, so when he asked me out, I didn’t think anything of saying yes. The first two months was fine, and were got along really well. As soon as we decided to be exclusive, he got really clingy really quickly. Every time I’d try to pull away, he’d clutch at me tighter. He started pressuring me to put distance between me and my friends, he wanted to know where I was all the time, he was constantly texting and calling and got mad when I didn’t respond right away. I got sick of it and broke up with him.”

“When did the stalking start?”

“Almost immediately. It didn’t help that we still worked in the same department, so I had to see him every day. He’d show up at my house after work and on the weekend. He’d either be super angry and demand that I let him in, or he’d be there with flowers and candy and cry and tell me that I was the best thing that ever happened to him, that he was sorry and he’d do better. He kicked my door in a couple of times and I had to call the police. I finally managed to get a restraining order against him, but it didn’t really help. He couldn’t come within five hundred feet, so he would stand on the curb exactly five hundred feet from my house and just watch the house. I was scared for my life. So I quit my job and moved across the state with just my savings. I found a job and I started last week. And yesterday, they said I had a new client, and it was him.”

“What did you do?”

“I freaked out and called security, telling them I had a restraining order against him. He mistakenly thinks the restraining order is void because I moved, but I called and that’s not the case at all.” You sighed in aggravation. “I really hope this asshole doesn’t get me fired.”

“Hmm,” He said. “So what’s your offer?”

“Hmm?” You asked.

“You said you’d pay. What’s your offer?”

“Oh,” You said, surprised. “Uh, fifty bucks per date, plus the date expenses. I can’t really afford more than that.”

“That sounds fair. Okay,” He said. “I’ll do it. You just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

“Really?” You replied. “You’ll take the job?”

“Sure,” He said. “I’ve got some free time, and the extra money will be nice. I could buy a new suit in a month.” He grinned and plucked at his own, no doubt worth several months of dates.

“That’s great, thank you,” You said, sighing in relief. “So, Friday night? Around six o’clock? Would that work?”

“Absolutely,” He said, pulling out his phone. “Give me your phone number. I’ll add it to my contacts. That way, if you see him, you can call or text and I can head over and do the arm ripping thing.”

You laughed and took out your phone.

After exchanging information, the two of you had lunch and discussed the finer points of the job. PDAs were acceptable, but you’d prefer if he didn’t kiss you. He had a nine-to-five job, just like you, but his position was flexible and let him leave the office for errands, as long as he didn’t abuse the privilege. You left the lunch feeling a little safer.

Friday night, you met him at a nice Greek restaurant, and he wore another nice bespoke suit. He offered to pick you up at your home, but you didn’t really want him to know where you lived. You were still pretty paranoid about Jake finding out.

“I’m surprised you chose this place, considering you’re footing the bill and everything,” Bashir said, looking around. “It’s pretty fancy.”

“It has to look believable,” You reasoned. “And I do like Greek food. If you like, you can pick the place next time.”

He chuckled. “Have you ever had Mediterranean troll food?”

“No, I haven’t,” You said, interested. “What’s it like?”

“It’s very similar, except there’s no bread of any kind.”

“So what do you eat the hummus on?”

“You drink it like sauce.”

“You’re not supposed to drink sauce!” You protested.

He snickered.

“I feel like you’re making this up.”

“Maybe, but you’ve never met any Mediterranean trolls, so you don’t know.”

“Are you a Mediterranean troll?”

“I am, actually,” He said. “My parents came over from Morocco when I was a tot. I don’t remember much about Morocco, but I’ve always dreamed of going on a trip there, I’ve just never had the chance.” He gave a cursory look over the menu. “Maybe that’s what I’ll use this money for.”

“Sounds nice to me,” You said. “If we both get something good out of this, then that’s a plus.”

“What do you get out of this, other than getting rid of a bothersome ex?”

“Security and peace of mind,” You said, picking up your own menu. “That’s worth the price.”

He looked at you seriously. “This guy really shook you up, didn’t he?”

You set the menu back down and sighed. “He’s never hit me or threatened me verbally. The most he’s ever done is break my door, but…” You looked out of the window. “I feel like… it wouldn’t be hard, you know? It wouldn’t be that much of a leap from breaking my door in to doing something worse. If he gets mad enough, if he gets obsessed enough, who knows what he could do. All I know is that I don’t want to find out.”

“I understand,” He said. “I’ve never had to deal with something like that, because… well, look at me…” He gestured at his massive body. “But I do know people who have, and it sounds terrifying. I’m glad I can help, even if I am getting paid to do it.”

You smiled. “Well, it helps that you’re good company.”

“You don’t have to flirt with me, you know,” He teased. “That’s not part of the deal.”

“I will throat-punch you,” You said with a grin, and he laughed.

The next date was the following Saturday, and he chose to go to a concert. He wore a black v-neck shirt and a pair of black slacks, which was as dressed down as you’d seen him, but still very business-casual. It was a showcase of up-and-coming local bands, and they were all pretty good. You didn’t know that he liked Djent and progressive metal, too, but you were happy to have a common interest.

In truth, Bashir was pleasant to be around, and you were relieved that this entire thing wasn’t as awkward as it could have been. It definitely helped make this “dating” business look real from an outsider perspective. He held up his end of the bargain really well over the next dozen dates, holding your hand and putting an arm around you as if it was perfectly normal to do so. Thankfully, it didn’t make you feel uncomfortable when he did it, as he was very warm and the height difference meant he couldn’t be too cuddly naturally. You hoped that if Jake was watching, he believed you’d moved on and had no thoughts for him.

Unfortunately, if he was watching, he didn’t take the hint.

One night, as you were turning off lights and getting ready for bed, you looked out of your bedroom window and there he was, standing on the curb across the street, Jake stood in the shadow of a tree, vaping, and looking toward your house.

Panicked, you didn’t your best to stay calm while you were at the window, not wanting him to know you had seen him, but as soon as you walked away, you turned off the bedroom lights, snatched up your phone, dashed downstairs, and frantically checked the windows and doors, making sure they were all locked.

You meant to call the police, but instead, you dialed Bashir’s number. He answered immediately.

“What’s up?” He asked, sounding caught off guard. You weren’t surprised, you never called or texted him unless it was about the next “date.”

“Jake’s outside,” You whispered. “He’s across the street, I’m looking at him right now from my living room window.”

“Are you sure it’s him?”

“I’d recognize that stupid snakeskin vape box anywhere,” You said.

“Okay,” He said. “I’m heading over. Stay on the phone with me until I get there. Do you have a landline?”

“Yeah,” You replied.

“Get it and call the police. Don’t tell them he’s stalking you because, well frankly, they won’t care. Say you’re a concerned member of the neighborhood and there’s a suspicious man hanging around outside and you’re worried about a break in.”

It wouldn’t have been a lie. “Okay,” You said, picking up your cordless phone.

After calling the police, you waited with your heart in your throat, listening to Bashir get into his car and drive. He’d heard you tell the operator your address. He arrived before the police did, his vehicle a nondescript SUV, and he got out wearing sweat pants and a tank top and pulled a duffel bag from his passenger seat. He didn’t acknowledge Jake at all, simply walked up to your door and knocked. You went to open the door for him.

“Hug me and kiss my cheek,” He said in a low undertone. Gulping, you did as he said with him turning so that your display of affection was clearly visible to anyone watching from the street. You let him in and closed the door behind him, locking it.

“What now?”

“Let’s turn on the lights and make some coffee while we wait for the police,” He said.

“Okay,” You said, your voice shaking. You went to go into the kitchen but he stopped you by taking your hand.

“Hey,” He said gently. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here, and the police are coming. You’re safe.”

Tears came to your eyes and you nodded, wiping them. He released you and you went to the kitchen, putting a pot of coffee on.

The police arrived. You and Bashir watched covertly from the breakfast nook. Eventually, Jake walked to a car and got in it, driving away. The police followed him.

“They let him go?” You asked, worried.

“Well, they may not have know he has a restraining order, and even if they did, he looked plenty far away enough to not have violated it. He wasn’t breaking any laws other than loitering, so they couldn’t arrest him. At least they made sure he left.”

You held your head in your hands. “God, I don’t want to have to do all this over again.”

“It’s okay,” He said. “I’ll stay the night to make sure he doesn’t come back tonight.”

“What about tomorrow? Or the next day? You can’t be here all the time,” You said, your voice shaking.

He sighed heavily. “Do you know how to use a gun?”

You scoffed in disgust. “I don’t want a fucking gun.”

“Okay,” He said. “Then, I’ll put up a security system. I brought one with me; it’s in my bag. I’ll set it up tonight while he’s not here.”

“It’s late,” You said weakly.

“Do you want to sleep or do you want peace of mind?” He asked you levelly.

You scrubbed your face, took a deep breath, drained your coffee cup, and stood up. “Okay. Let’s do it, then.”

It took a few hours, but he managed to get several security cameras fixed to the building, focused on entryways and the front and back yards. You helped him by holding the equipment and tools for him as he worked, handing up what he needed as he needed it. By the time the two of you were done, it was three a.m. and you both had to be at work in mere hours.

The two of you fell into an exhausted sleep on your bed. You didn’t even have the energy to be affronted by the fact that you were sharing a bed with him. The next morning, before he left to go home and get ready for work, he downloaded the security camera app onto your phone and showed you how to use it.

You went to work, checking your phone surreptitiously to see if Jake was outside of your house. So far, he hadn’t reappeared.

>Today’s Friday, You texted him. >I know you’re probably tired after last night, but do you want to have a date today?

>What about a home date at my house? He replied. >I’ll cook dinner and everything. I don’t want you to be at your house at the moment.

>I can’t argue with that, You said in return. >Sounds good to me. What are you cooking?

>I was thinking a kefta meatball tagine with couscous on the side, and a snake pastry for dessert.

>That sounds amazing. Thanks for putting me up. I know this all is a huge inconvenience, and I really appreciate it.

>It’s no problem,” He said. >It’s what I’m getting paid for, right?

You sighed. Well, this wasn’t exactly what he was getting paid for. How much would an overnight stay cost you?

He sent you a message with his address and you went home after work to shower and pack a small overnight bag. You snickered, pulling out your pretty underwear and a sexy negligee, wondering if you should pack this, too, before putting it away and just throwing some pajamas in your bag.

Checking the cameras before stepping outside, you left the house and hurried to your car, heading to Bashir’s house. His place was a two-story, bungalow style house with a dark brown cliffstone brick pattern and a detached garage. It was charming, and a lot cuter than your tiny yellow ranch-style house. The yard was well kept and three were full flowerbeds next to the wide porch. You wouldn’t have imagined he lived in a place like this.

You knocked on the door and he answered it quickly, wearing a comfortable t-shirt and pair of tight jeans. You tried not to stare, but it was difficult. His clothes left very little to the imagination. His hair was also down and cascaded down his back and shoulders.

“Come in, come in,” He said, taking your bag for you.

“Thanks,” You said. “Your house is really pretty.”

“Oh, thanks!” He said. “It was actually condemned when I bought it. I basically had to rebuild it from the ground up. I’m not quite finished with it yet, but I’m happy with the progress.”

“You should be, it’s amazing,” You said. “I’d never have guessed it was a fixer-upper.”

He grinned at you, showing off his sharp teeth. “Come on, dinner will be ready soon.”

“It smells great,” You said, inhaling the savory smell of lamb and vegetables.

“All my mom’s recipes,” He replied, heading into the kitchen. “She owns a restaurant three towns over.”

“I’ll have to go and visit it sometime,” You said.

“Maybe I’ll take you myself one day,” He said, smiling as he stirred the couscous. Your heart fluttered a little.

How long were you going to have to keep this up? “Dating” Bashir was fun, but it wasn’t going to last forever. Either Jake would give up or get arrested, so either way, it would be over. Maybe you could stay friends. He was nice enough, and you enjoyed hanging out with him. But still… why was he talking about things that might happen in the future if there was no future for the two of you?

Dinner was delicious, and so was dessert, and afterward the two of you went to the living room to watch a movie. He even put his arm around you, since the window was uncovered and anyone could look in, he said, and you felt comfortable enough to relax into his side. It almost did feel like a real home date.

After the movie, though, you both decided to sleep, since you were still tired from the night before. You decided that you were both adults and could share a bed without it being awkward, and besides, his bed was huge and could fit five of you easily. You both fell asleep almost immediately.

Sometime during the night, you got a ping from the motion detector on your phone, but when you checked the security system, it was just a raccoon in your trashcan. You sighed and put your phone down, rolling over.

Bashir was on his back, asleep, with his face turned toward you. He was breathing deeply and relaxed with one hand on his chest and the other on his stomach.

You couldn’t help but stare. He really was an attractive guy, and if circumstances had been different, you might have dated him for real. But… until Jake left you alone, you didn’t want to drag anyone else into it. Bashir didn’t have any emotional connection to you, so Jake couldn’t affect whatever “relationship” you had.

But maybe things could be different after? You weren’t sure. He hadn’t expressed any interest in you other than what he had to to make the job believable. He hadn’t been flirty or more affectionate than he needed to be. You couldn’t afford to develop feelings for Bashir, not right now.

Even still, you brushed your fingers gently against the skin of his arm, feeling the hairs that covered it, and followed the curve up to his hand, allowing yours to rest on top of his for a moment or two before retracting it and trying to fall asleep again, sighing heavily.

The next morning, Bashir recommended that the two of you spend the day together, to keep up the weekend stay appearance.

“How much is this ‘weekend getaway’ going to cost me?” You asked dubiously.

He laughed. “Don’t worry, today’s a freebie, since I suggested it. You still have to pay for last night, though. The normal fifty bucks is fine.”

“Mm-hmm,” You hummed flatly, fishing the money out of your wallet and handing it to him. “Well, what do you want to do?”

“Ah, it’s a freebie day, right? You get to choose this time.”

You smiled. “Well, let’s start with breakfast. I’ll cook it. I can cook breakfast blindfolded.”

“If you like,” He said, sitting at the bar in the kitchen and watching you putter around, looking for cooking tools.

After breakfast, you decided you wanted to go to the local botanical garden, which you hadn’t been to in some time.

“Your flowerbeds outside reminded me of this place,” You told him, walking slowly through the rows of Japanese maples. There was a beautiful and an extremely rare Chinese Red Maple behind a gate at the end of the row, the centerpiece of the garden. “Did you plant them yourself?”

“Yep,” He said with a smile. “I helped my dad do a lot of gardening when he was still alive. He had a landscaping business, but he was really passionate about it. I actually inherited the business. Gardening helps me keep his memory alive.”

“That’s really sweet,” You said, smiling softly. “Is that what you do for a living, the landscaping job? I’ve never actually asked what you do for work.”

“No, actually. I mean, I own the company, but I don’t work for it. My actual job is something else entirely.”

“What is it?”

He laughed. “Honestly, I don’t think you’d believe me.” Before you could ask, he took you by the hand and said, “Let’s take a break and get a coffee. I have to use the bathroom.”

“Okay,” You said, letting the subject drop. For now.

You got to the food court outside of the botanical gardens and sat down at the outdoor cafe.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” He said, putting some money down on the table. “Can you order me a large black coffee?”

“Yeah, sure,” You said. He smiled and headed off. You got up and put in your order, then sat back down at the table and opened the security app, looking through the cameras and checked to see if anything was out of place.

The chair opposite to you was pulled out and he sat back down while you were still looking at your phone.

“The coffee should be out soon,” You said.

“I didn’t order coffee,” A voice said. It wasn’t Bashir.

You jerked your head up and saw Jake sitting across from you. You stood up so fast that you knocked the chair over.

“Get away from me, Jake,” You said.

“Look, just talk to me,” He said, standing up and advancing on you. “Why won’t you just talk to me?”

“Get away from me!” You shouted. “Bashir!”

“Are you calling for that monster?” He sneered. “You could do so much better than him. Besides, you’re not even really dating him, you’re just paying him to keep you company, you slut. You think I wouldn’t figure that out?”

“Fuck you!” You back up. “Bashir!”

Jake was snatched back and slammed down onto the cafe table. Bashir had him pinned down with a single hand. It wasn’t hard to do: Bashir was almost twice the size of Jake in height and weight.

“Let me go!” Jake said, struggling against Bashir’s iron grip. “I’ll have you arrested! My brother’s a cop!”

“Ah, that explains how you got her address so quick,” Bashir said. “I don’t really care if your brother’s a cop. Actually, I think I do, I think an internal affairs investigation is warranted. Regardless, you’ve just violated a restraining order.”

“What does it matter to you?”

Bashir snorted. “I’m FBI, dickless.”

You gaped at him.

“Bullshit!” Jake said. “I’ll fucking sue you! I’ll ruin your fucking life!”

“Whatever you want, you’re still under arrest,” Bashir said, pulling out a set of handcuffs from an inside pocket of his jacket.

“You’re kidding,” You said slowly, staring at Bashir.

“I told you you probably wouldn’t believe me,” He said, grinning at you sheepishly. He jerked his head at his jacket. “My ID is in my pocket.”

You reached in and fished it out, opening the leather fold to reveal a… rather official looking ID and badge.

You laughed in disbelief. “You’re right, I wouldn’t have.”

The police arrived to detain Jake and took him to the station. Bashir drove you to the station, as well, so that you could make a statement.

Later, Bashir drove you back to your house.

“I’ll bring your bag over later,” He said. “He’ll probably get ninety days in jail for violating the restraining order, and hopefully you won’t have to deal with him anymore. Although, if you hear from him again once he gets out, let me know, and I’ll be here.”

“Thanks,” You said. “Really, thank you for everything.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. “Here,” He said, handing it to you. Inside was all the money you had given him for the dates, plus some. There had to have been almost two thousand dollars in there.

“But this is…”

He laughed. “I’m a federal official, you know. I can’t take bribes. I’d get fired.”

“This wasn’t…” You started, but stopped yourself. This could absolutely be seen as a bribe. “What do I do with all this?”

He shrugged. “Whatever you like. Go on a trip. Buy something nice. It’s your money, after all.”

You sighed a little sadly. “I guess this is it, then.”

He sighed, too. “Yeah, I guess so.” He leaned forward, bent down, and kissed you on the cheek. “Take care of yourself.”

Jake did end up getting three months in jail, which made you feel a lot better. You were worried that he would come after you, but the three months passed and when he was released, he moved clear across the country and you never heard from him again.

Finally free of him, you thought you might try actually dating again, but you could only think of Bashir. You and he had only spoken a few times, mostly him checking on you, but you hadn’t seen each other since Jake’s arrest. You missed him, but you couldn’t tell him that. He didn’t have any feelings for you, anyway. If he did, wouldn’t he have asked you out after Jake was out of the picture?

Even still, you wanted to see him again. So once Jake was gone, you texted Bashir.

>I have something for you, You told him.

>Oh? What’s that?

>I want to give it to you in person. Would it be okay to come over this weekend?

>I’m free now. Why don’t you stop by?

>Okay. I’ll be there soon.

Before leaving, you hesitated and decided to throw on your best, sexiest underwear. Just in case.

You arrived at his house to find him out in the front yard. He was digging a hole in the yard with a sapling sitting in a bucket, ready for planting. There were also stones and gravel he was going to use for a decorative barrier. He stood up and waved as you drove up into the driveway.

“Hey!” He said, pulling you into a hug. Well, as well as he could, being so tall. “It’s good to see you!”

“You too!” You said. “What kind of tree is that?”

“A Chinese Maple,” He said. “I got inspired when we went to the botanical gardens that time. It cost a pretty penny and I had to wait for the cutting to grow, but it’s finally ready to plant.”

“That’s so cool,” You said. “Can I help?”

“Really?” He said, grinning. “Yeah, sure! There’s a pair of gloves over there on the porch. They might be a little big, but it’s better than blisters.”

You ran to retrieve them, and picked up a trowel. “Why did you decide on the maple?”

“Cause it reminds me of you,” He said, digging. “When I look out my window every day and see it, I’ll think of you.”

Your heart beat faster, but you couldn’t look at him.

It only took about an hour to dig out the hole, plant the sapling, fill the hole with soil, lay the stones, and spread the gravel. Thankfully it was a cool day and you didn’t sweat too much. The two of you caught up on what had happened in the three months since you’d seen each other. You wanted to ask if he had started dating, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“It looks great,” He said, standing back and grinning. “Thanks for your help! We got it done in record time. Let’s get cleaned up and have a drink.”

“Okay,” You said. “Let me grab my purse from the car.”

“Oh, right, you had something to give me, right?”

“Yep,” You told him, grabbing your bag.

He laughed. “Sorry I side-tracked you.”

“It’s fine, I had a good time,” You said. He opened the door for you and let you go into the house before him.

You went to the bathroom to freshen up and when you looked down, you realized your toothbrush was in the holder, the one you had forgotten when you’d stayed over. You had bought a new one and figured he’d just throw it away when he found it. Why had he kept it? Why was it in the holder with his?

You went back out into the kitchen and found him shirtless, water beading down the muscles of his back, and you stopped in the doorway, staring.

“Oh, sorry,” He said, laughing and throwing on a clean shirt. “Needed a quick wash. I felt a little grimy after the yardwork.”

“It’s okay,” You said, your heart still hammering in your chest.

“Iced tea?”

“Yeah, sure,” You replied, sitting at the bar. He poured you a drink and sat at the bar opposite you.

“So, what was the thing you had for me.”

You swallowed your tea a bit too hard and reached into your purse, handing him an envelope.

“This isn’t the money, is it?” He asked, smiling.

“No, it’s not money,” You said. “Open it.”

He grinned playfully at you, but it slipped from his face when he looked inside the envelope, pulling out two plane tickets.

“Morocco?” He asked, looking up at you in surprise.

You nodded. “Those are good for a year, so make sure you get some vacation time soon,” You said, anxious.

He stared at them. “There are two.”

“Yes,” You replied. “In case you wanted to take your mom. Or maybe a girlfriend or boyfriend or something.”

You kept your face as neutral as possible, but he was staring at you.

“The extra ticket is for you, isn’t it?” He asked softly.

You looked down and away. “If you don’t want me to go, that’s okay. You can take whoever you like. I just wanted you to have the trip you always dreamed of.”

He got up out of his chair, came around, and got down on his knees, so that he was face to face with you. He leaned forward and kissed you. It was firm and testing, and you responded, throwing your arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around you as well.

“I missed you,” He murmured against your lips.

“Why didn’t you ask me out?” You asked him, pulling back to look at his face.

“I thought you weren’t interested in a real relationship,” He said, pulling you against him. “If I had any inclination you did, I would have asked you out on the spot.”

“I thought the same thing,” You said. “I never expected you’d actually like me.”

“I do,” He said, kissing you again and standing up. “I like you very, very much.”

He walked you into his room and lay you down on his bed, stripping your clothes off your body.

“Pretty,” He said with a grin as he came across your lacy black underwear. “Did you wear this for me?”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“Well, it would be a shame to take it off so soon, then, wouldn’t it?” He said, palming your breasts over the fabric of your bra. He touched your slit over your underwear, and you gasped. You lifted your leg and rubbed him through his pants, and he grunted. You felt him harden under your touch. He was… uh… large.

You pulled off his shirt and ran your nails down his chest. He moved his hand away and pressed himself against you, still clothed, grinding himself into your clit, and you moaned. You reached for his belt and unbuckled it, unbuttoning it, and pushed his pants down with your toes. Because of his long tusks, he couldn’t bend down to kiss you in this position, so he picked you up as if you were a doll, kissing your body. You were always a little self conscious about your weight, being a big girl, but he seemed not to notice.

He lifted you all the way up to his face, kneeling down so that you weren’t so high up, and licked the cloth covering your slit, putting your legs over his shoulders and his tusks under your body. Using just his tongue, he moved your underwear out of the way and teased your clit. His tongue was long and thick. You whimpered and rocked your hips against his tongue. He pushed it in side of you and thrust it back and forth, and you writhed in his grip.

Carefully, he pulled you down and eased you into his lap, pressing himself against your entrance. You pressed your hands against his stomach and watched him disappear slowly inside you. He couldn’t go all the way in, but once he reached the back and knew where the limit was, he pulled back out slowly and thrust in again slowly, easing you into it. He must have had a similar size problem in the past and had learned how to overcome it in these situations. You were glad for it.

He lay you on the edge of the bed and pressed your knees back, thrusting a little faster, and you reached down and touched yourself, rubbing quickly as he sped up. He pulled the cups of your bra down so that he could grasp your breasts, squeezing gently, and grunted. You held his hand there with your own, pulling up your head and sucking on his pointer finger, looking up at him through your lashes. His breathing was erratic and he watched you hungrily, his sharp teeth biting into his lower lip and pricking the skin.

“I’m so close,” You moaned. “I’m going to cum.”

He nodded as if in agreement, squeezing his eyes shut. He grimaced as if in pain, but then shouted, roaring, and released inside of you. It was a torrent, spraying out of you. Another few hip thrusts and circles around your clit, you came too, your head thrown back against the bed, crying out.

He pulled out and turned his head, resting it against your stomach as his arms gripped your sides, breathing hard. After a moment, you both sat up, and you realized that his legs were covered with his own release.

“Wanna get cleaned up?” You asked him.

“Yeah,” He said dreamily, standing up and leading you into the bathroom. You took a shower together, helping him clean himself. He did the same for you, kneeling down and washing your body. The way he knelt in front of you combine with the way he looked at you, it almost felt like he was worshiping you. Honestly, you didn’t mind that at all.

Your underwear would have to be washed, but he said you could borrow one of his shirts, if you wanted to. Honestly, you were happy to lounge in his bed naked. He seemed happy with that, too.

“When would you like to go?” You asked him, laying on his chest and playing with his chest hair. “To Morocco, I mean?”

“Soon,” He said, entwining his fingers in your hair. “I’ll put in for vacation time as soon as I get back to the office. I don’t really take vacations, so I’m sure my colleagues will be surprised.”

You smiled and kissed his skin. “I’ll have to put in for time off, too,” You said. “Although, I only just started working there six months ago, so they may not approve it.”

“Let me know when they do and I’ll schedule for the same time,” He said.

“Sounds good to me,” He said, sitting up and crossing his legs, looking down at you. You posed a little for him and he grinned, running his hands up and down the soft skin of your torso and belly. “You know what I’d like to do right now, though?”

“What’s that?” You asked.

“I want to take you on a date,” He said, smiling softly. “A real one. I'll pay and everything. And I want to be able to kiss you.”

You smiled back at him. “Deal.”

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Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[memxntomxri]

𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚕𝚎

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮 | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - bisexual!hinata shouyou x gn!reader, hinata shouyou x miya atsumu

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 - angst, break up

𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤 - hinata shouyou is trustworthy - with everything except for your heart

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 - 2.4k words

𝘵𝘸 - slightly descriptive nsfw?, cheating (i'm sorry to be doing my children hinata and atsumu dirty this way but this got stuck in my head 😭), major angst, break-up, no happy ending, lots and lots of crying, lots and lots of reader's internal thoughts, atsumu is an asshole

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 - this is the result of brainrot i had stuck in my head after reading chapter 18 of SabbyWrites' A Study in Depravity. HAIKYUU BOYS ARE NOT CHEATERS - I REPEAT, HAIKYUU BOYS ARE NOT CHEATERS. BISEXUAL PEOPLE ARE ALSO NOT CHEATERS. i just couldn't resist writing this lmao

also, i'm doing my best to make this a gender-neutral reader, but it might lean more towards AFAB/non-binary readers since i'm both ashelkgjkdlkjf male-identifying readers i'm sorry

thanks @meiansmistress, lou (LouEve_094 on ao3), lena, and emmy (Noisy_Emmy on ao3) for betaing! your feedback helped me a lot

𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙙𝙣𝙞 - there are some descriptive scenes of smut in here 👀 shoo, shoo

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

You know this.

It's the reason you met, after all.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

The summer you moved to Miyagi, following your father's dream of teaching in a little town similar to the one he lived in as a child, you were unhappy. Who could blame you, after all? You had a comfortable life back in Osaka, and unlike your father, you were a city dweller at heart. It was also the middle of your first year of high school—who wanted to transfer schools, let alone across prefectures, in the middle of a school year?

It was hot in Miyagi, and when the moving truck broke down on the side of the road, the entire family piled out and sat on the curb. Just your father (who you were still mad at), your mother, and you. That was what it had always been. Sure, you had friends, but somehow the friendships never got too deep. You were willing to bet that within a month, there would be no texts other than the occasional New Year's greeting or "happy birthday" from your so-called friends back in Osaka.

And don't even get you started on romantic relationships. It wasn't that you weren't attractive, or that you weren't easy to get along with—it was just that there was never anybody. Yes, you had liked people before, but nothing had ever come of it.

Your mother piped up, saving you from your dark thoughts about the state of your relationships with other people. "Y/n, love, can you go back down the hill again? I think we saw a konbini a bit that way, please buy some cool drinks." she says, depositing coins in your outstretched hand. Oh well, something to do, you supposed.

You strolled casually down the road, sweating buckets. When you pushed open the doors of the konbini—Sakanoshita Store, you noted, it definitely didn’t look like a konbini—opened, you basked in the cold air of the air conditioner for a bit. As you stood there, looking a bit dumb with your arms outstretched, you felt a weight barrel into you from behind.

With a bang, you fell forward, the weight landing on your back. "Ow!" you cried, rubbing your right wrist, which had unceremoniously made contact with the ground, pain shooting up the limb. You twisted around to glare at whatever had so unceremoniously bowled you over. You were met with the sight of wide, brown eyes and flushed cheeks. "Sorry!" the boy squeaked, getting off of you quickly. "So sorry!" You frowned and got up.

"Watch where you’re going, okay?" You were a few centimeters taller than him, you noted.

He started blabbering, talking about how he needed to get the first-aid kit because a "Stingyshima" had "accidentally" ran into "Bakageyama" and this "Bakageyama" now had a bleeding knee and that he was the fastest runner in their volleyball club (he was strangely emphatic about this point). By the time he was finished rambling, you were chuckling slightly. It was obvious that he hadn't meant anything by running into you, and it was actually kind of endearing how earnestly he was trying to explain himself.

You held up a hand, stopping him from continuing to ramble. "Y-you aren't mad, right?" he asked anxiously. You smiled and shook your head slightly. "It seems your team trusts you to help take care of your friend, so why don't you grab the first-aid kit and go help him?" You suggested gently.

He nodded quickly and darted behind the counter, grabbing a white box. As he jogged away, he seemed to remember something and turned around to holler at you. "My name's Hinata Shouyou! I'm a first year!" he introduced himself in a bright voice.

Just inside the konbini, a small smile slipped across your face.

Hinata Shouyou, huh. He seemed nice.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's the reason you fell in love with him.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

The first day of school, you meet Hinata Shouyou again. And again. And again. He somehow seems to pop up everywhere you go—not that you're complaining, he's entertaining and nice—and soon, you think you can count yourself as his friend.

You go to his game against Aoba Johsai, then Shiratorizawa, then you're hugging him as he jumps up and down, celebrating their win. That’s the first time your heart jumps when you look at him, haloed by the lights of the gym.

Slowly, you feel yourself falling in love with him. Not just falling for him, no, because Hinata Shouyou will not let anyone do anything in halves, especially not falling in love. Shouyou, to you, (because by then you were on first-name basis) is someone you can rely on, someone that is always there, like the sun, trustworthy.

And because he is always there, it's also easy to confess to him in your second year. You know him well enough by now to know that even if he doesn't feel the same, nothing would change about your friendship except for the addition of unspoken words. And you think that he might love you back, if the lingering glances and brighter smiles are any indication.

Your guess is right, and by New Year's break, the two of you are a happy couple.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's why you let him go, if only for a little bit.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

When Shouyou left for Brazil, you took a break from each other. To be honest, it was your idea.

It wasn't that you didn't think that you couldn't trust him ten thousand kilometers away—it was that you knew you would hold him back. He was going to Brazil to chase his dream, and having a tether to his hometown would only slow him down. It hurt, having to say goodbye at the airport, but somehow the two of you got through it.

You still talked—a little more than "just friends" should—but you were careful not to let him think that you were together.

Shouyou was meant for greater things, and back then, as an insecure, just-barely-adult going into medical school, you weren't sure if you fit into the picture.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's the reason why you let him back in.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

When Shouyou returns from Brazil, the first person he visits is you. You, all the way out in Osaka, pushing yourself to your limits as you study for med school. When you open your door and see him standing there, smiling as bright as ever, you fall into his arms—both literally and metaphorically. It turns out, even two years later, you trust him to catch you.

It was all too natural for you and Shouyou to get back together, and by a stroke of luck, he joins the MSBY Black Jackals, right there in Osaka. You move in together, his slightly larger salary allowing the two of you to rent a bigger apartment.

Yes, it's hard work being in a relationship again, but you like having Shouyou to return to every night after your shift is over. You wake up early every morning to make the two of you breakfast and lunch, and Shouyou always has dinner waiting for you when you step back in the door, often also staying up so that you can talk.

You're content.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's the reason why you think nothing of his closeness with his teammates.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Shouyou has always been a people-magnet. Even back in high school, everyone loved him. Shouyou is bisexual. You know this. He’s always had more than enough love to give back, too, and his bisexuality had never impacted your relationship. Why should it, when you’re every bit as queer as him? Your relationship was strong, and you believed in it. That's why, at every team dinner that he takes you to, when someone else inevitably takes the seats next to him instead of you and you're relegated to a corner, you don't worry about it. Shouyou loves you, and it doesn't matter where you sit for a couple of hours.

Yes, Miya Atsumu is a bit aggressive whenever Shouyou compliments him, throwing a smirk over his shoulder at you triumphantly, but you chalk it to them being good friends and Miya-san wanting to get to know you better by having a little friendly competition, and that's okay.

Yes, Shouyou starts going out with his team more and more, but they're his team. He's supposed to be close with them.

Yes, you start to feel a little neglected, but it wasn't as if you were the most attentive back when you were still struggling through med school.

And anyways, Shouyou always makes time for the two of you on Saturdays, your designated date nights. You have trust in your relationship, in its rock-tight foundation built upon years of knowing each other.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's why you believe his words.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

One Friday, after an especially busy shift at the hospital that got cut short for you when a coworker unexpectedly came in to fill in for you, you decide to head home early and get some rest, maybe cuddle with Shouyou while watching those romcoms you both enjoy.

You had told him that you'd be home late that night, and you hoped that you could surprise him with some dinner. So, you swung by his favorite yakitori place and ordered dinner, driving home as fast as you safely could.

As you open the door to your apartment, you hear the distinctive sounds of sex, skin slapping on skin, grunts and moans, high keens. You frown. Maybe Shouyou was watching porn? He sometimes liked to get himself ready (the two of you enjoyed the occasional pegging) before you got home. You drop the food on the kitchen table and put your jacket on the hook.

"Love, I'm home!" you call out softly. No response.

Frowning deeper now, you move towards the bedroom door. Just as you're about to open it, you hear something that stops you cold.

"A-ah, Atsumu!" It's distinctively Shouyou's voice, and suddenly, you can't move anymore.

Shouyou, who told you you could make it through med school.

Shouyou, who made you yakisoba and miso soup whenever you were stuck studying.

Shouyou, who whispered sweet nothings in your ear every morning as the two of you made breakfast.

Shouyou, who is currently in bed with Miya fucking Atsumu.

You want to get up, you want to slam open the door, you want to demand answers, but somehow, you can't get your legs to budge from the spot in the ground they've rooted themselves to.

Then,

"Who do you love, Sho?" Atsumu growls.

Your heart skips a beat.

No.

No.

You pray to all the gods you know that what's about to pass Shouyou's lips will miraculously stay trapped in his throat, but it seems like the gods don't feel kind today.

"Y-you, Atsumu, you!" you hear Shouyou cry.

Your heart shatters into a million little kaleidoscopic pieces. Tears start running down your face, hot, involuntary, painful, because they represent the six years of a beautiful relationship down the drain, because nothing will ever be the same, because Shouyou is cheating on you.

Finally, your legs decide to move again. It seems like someone else is controlling your body as you walk towards the door, opening it with a shaking hand.

Shouyou is pinned down by Miya-san on the bed, legs thrown over his shoulder, as he slams into him.

The door bangs against the wall.

Shouyou looks up, and when he sees you, his face floods with guilt.

You don't say anything. You just stand there, tears flooding down your face, betrayal evident in your expression.

"Y-y/n!" he says. "I-I- I swear, this isn't-" he begins.

You cut him off. "I don't want to hear it, Shouyou." you spit.

Miya-san chuckles. "Who are we kidding, this is exactly what they think it is. What, did you think that you would be enough to satisfy Sho? You, with your infinitely busy schedule? You, who has no clue about volleyball?" he says, cutting into you.

"Atsumu, stop!" Shouyou says, frantic. He can tell that he's going to lose you, but he's not going to go down without a fight. "Babe, I love you, please-" he says, getting out of Miya-san's embrace and moving towards you. You sidestep him, holding a duffel bag with a change of clothes.

You stand there, looking at the scene, chuckling darkly inside your head. Just a scorned lover, a man, and his side-piece. You take a deep breath.

"You know, Shouyou, if you fell in love with someone else, you should've just told me. I trust you to be honest. I'm leaving—because even though you might love me, you're in love with Miya-san." you said.

Shouyou looks stricken with guilt, but you know it's from lying, not because he loves you anymore. Your laugh is broken and rough on the ears. "You think I didn't hear you? Oh, Shouyou, I heard more than enough. Have a nice life, and I hope that you remember how you broke me. I hope it fucking haunts you to the day of your death," you hurl at him.

Because even though at that moment you're screaming at him, you know that you still love him, that you’ll always will love him, and that you will carry this scar for the rest of your life. And even though you love him enough to leave now, to let him be with the person he loves—you still have enough love for yourself to hope that he bears some of the weight of this horrible, messy end too.

And with that, you walk out the door.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

But you're wrong.

Hinata Shouyou might love Miya Atsumu, but he still loves you more.

Years later, looking back, he comprehends that he didn't just break you. As he stares at his empty apartment, devoid of a lover—because what you said was true, he still carries the guilt, the memory of your tear-stained face, the recollections of your golden time together that ruined any relationship he might have had before it started, the echo of your absolute trust in him,

—Hinata Shouyou realizes he ruined himself too.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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