#back in august i was like oh last names only to show that they’re not as close to each other as they could be until the very end

[compacflt]

i hate their last names now lol

[merakiui]

the birds and the bees.

yandere!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, slight dub-con, implied stalking, age gap (riddle is 19 and reader is 29) note - you're hired to teach riddle about the birds and the bees. you need the money. he needs to get laid.

The Rosehearts’s Residence looks about how you expected it to after driving past houses of similar size and grandeur. Unlike you, they’re definitely not strapped for cash. It’s an impressive structure with its elegant wrought iron gates and expertly trimmed hedges. You’re immediately overcome with bitter jealousy when you step through the entrance, passing rose bushes in full bloom. If only your apartment could look and feel as nice as this place. You almost wonder if you should keep Mrs. Rosehearts’s contact in case she ever needs a gardener or a window washer…

But then that risks your cover, and the last thing you want is to get tangled up in trouble with the upper middle class.

Gathering your courage, you smooth invisible wrinkles in your pencil skirt, steady your balance in your Mary Janes—both at socially acceptable lengths and heights—and bring your fist down against the door. Seconds after the third knock, it opens to reveal a woman who looks as prim and proper as the landscape of her home. She takes a long moment, drinking in your formal features, and then smiles approvingly.

“Ah, (Name), you’re early.”

You soften your face into something polite and demure. “Better early than late.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

She steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. You meander into the foyer and are instantly reminded of those exquisite house tours on MagiTube. There’s a fine layer of modest Victorian wealth to the decor. Flowery wallpaper, a lofty ceiling, an aureate chandelier, a vase filled with fresh tulips of all colors… Oh, how you wish you could live here!

“Your home is beautiful,” you comment as you straighten your bow headband.

“Why, thank you.” Her eyes light up once more. “I’ve always admired this neighborhood. Everything is so well-kept. Speaking of which, where did you say you’re from?”

“Oh, I’m actually getting ready to move back to school at the end of the summer,” you explain, narrowly dodging her question. No way I’m telling her I live in a not-so-affluent neighborhood… She’ll totally kick me out. “I’m staying with my parents in the meantime and working a few jobs to support myself.”

“And what was it you’re studying again?”

You paste a hollow smile on, sensing her distrust. I already told you this when we met at the clinic. Do I really seem so suspicious?

“I’m studying to be an ob-gyn.”

“A wonderful profession,” she praises, nodding to herself. “Very wonderful indeed. And how old are you? I merely ask to confirm. There are so many miscreants nowadays. You can never be too sure.”

“I understand completely, Mrs. Rosehearts. I’m—” you almost falter, your real age on the tip of your tongue— “twenty-two. What about your son? You told me he’s also looking to get into the medical field?”

“Not looking. He will pursue medicine,” she corrects sternly. “Just like his mother.”

You swallow your disgust and try not to let it show so openly. Yikes… Talk about controlling.

Mrs. Rosehearts waves you onwards down the hall. “My Riddle will be leaving for his first year of college at the end of August. Though I’m certain he’s more than prepared, it never hurts to review.”

“Absolutely. So you’d like me to give him the talk?”

“Not just that. I’d like you to teach him well enough so that copulation and any other libidinous ideas are the last things on his mind. Stamp them out if you must. He’s to focus on his studies and make good decisions just as I raised him.”

Shouldn’t he already be familiar with this? Besides, he’s not a kid. Of course he’s going to think about sex. Most of us do when we’re horny.

But you can’t say that outright, so you settle for something vastly different.

“It’s important to stay on the right path and be responsible.”

Mrs. Rosehearts nods her agreement. Your stomach twists in discomfort.

On second thought, I don’t want to be upper middle class if these are the people I have to deal with. Is this guy going to have any chance to be social? To live his life? To make and learn from stupid mistakes? I bet he can’t wait to get out of here and go off to school.

“I apologize if this is rude in any way, but I just want to ensure I’ll be paid accordingly.”

“Of course. Good work must always be recognized and rewarded.” She stops at a door. “I cannot thank you enough for lending my Riddle your time. Teach him well.”

“I’ll do just that. You can count on it.”

Pleased with the level of maturity you’ve displayed, she raps her knuckles against the door and calls out, “Riddle, the tutor’s here.”

“Very well, Mother. I’ve just finished today’s readings, so you can send them in,” comes a muffled reply.

Today’s readings? you think, perplexed. Your gaze slides from the door to Mrs. Rosehearts. Does she have this guy doing summer school? That must suck! What a shitty way to spend your summer, cooped up inside filling out workbooks and stuff.

“I’ll be out running errands in the meantime. I trust you’ll be all right by yourself?”

“Perfectly all right,” you assure her, to which she hums and strides past you. You catch her perfume as she departs, and it reminds you of the types of scents worn by saggy, old ladies who have nothing better to do than sit around and complain about the state of the world and the way their children turned out.

In other words, a scent you associate with misery.

You wait until she’s out of sight before opening the door and stepping inside the study. There’s a mahogany desk in the center, and thick textbooks are piled high on either side. Beyond that, beside a big bay window with cream-colored curtains drawn to let in the sun, two large bookcases are packed with an array of tomes. At the front of the room, a blackboard has been built into a wooden frame. Chalk lines the ledge, situated within reach of an eraser. And sitting at the desk, his eyes glued to an open book, is a young man. A pair of round frames sit on the bridge of his nose, slipping ever so slightly down the slope of it when he peers at the page. He pushes them up when he finally lifts his head to greet you.

“Hey.” You wave awkwardly, easing the door shut.

He seems taken aback by your appearance. “Oh, yes. Right. Hello…”

Silence soon fills the space. You wonder if you should just save yourself this nonsensical waste of time and retreat.

“Sooo.” You fold your arms behind your back, rocking on your heels. “Your mother’s probably told you why I’m here.”

“I’m aware.” He shuts his book and stands from his seat. “My name is Riddle Rosehearts. A pleasure to meet you.”

You blink at his outstretched arm. “(Name). Likewise.” You grab his hand and shake firmly. 

So stiff…

“So where’re we starting? The basics? You want the whole ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’ version or—”

Riddle scoffs and yanks his arm back. “I’m not a fool. I’ll have you know I’m well aware of sexual reproduction and what it entails.”

“You can call it sex. No one’s forcing you to be all biological,” you tease. His body goes rigid, and his face reddens in what you assume is flustered annoyance. “Anyways, since you’re not as brainless as Mother Dearest wants me to assume, I’ll just get into it.”

Riddle stares at you, his arms folding over his chest. He looks like he wants to argue, but instead he huffs and lowers into his chair.

Wordlessly, you undo the buttons on your blazer and shrug out of it. Your blouse goes next, untucked from your skirt and shucked. Riddle’s eyes are so wide they nearly pop out of his skull when he spies the white, lacy false collar that just barely covers your breasts. You’re about to step out of your pencil skirt next when Riddle clears his throat.

“W-What’re you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“No?”

“I’m teaching you the birds and the bees.”

“N-Not in that outfit! S-Surely not…” He averts his eyes, crimson crawling up to his ears. “You’re practically nude!”

“That’s the point of lingerie, silly.” Your skirt pools around your ankles to reveal the rest of your frilly ensemble. A black-and-white cupless bra and crotchless panties set, both with plenty of ruffles, held together with a pair of garters. Still wearing matching stockings and your precious Mary Janes, you bend down to gather your discarded clothes. They’re set aside on a nearby chair. “You can look.”

“A-Absolutely not!” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut. “Y-You… You’re not decent. It’s rude to stare.”

“Come on. You got past anatomy diagrams just fine.”

Riddle opens and closes his mouth, speechless like a beached fish. Eventually, he manages to gather his coherency. “You’re a tutor, aren’t you? Where’s your dignity?”

“Nonexistent. I lied.” His head snaps over to view you, and he seems so scandalized by your admission that it’s almost comedic. “No way I’m studying to be an ob-gyn. I’m not even in school.”

“What?! But you—”

“It’s fine. I looked the part, didn’t I?” you joke, waving your hand about dismissively. “C’mon, mama’s boy. You’re going off to college. It’s nothing like those stuffy anatomy courses.”

Riddle tries and fails to look at anywhere that isn’t you, his eyes lingering on your chest to the space between your legs to the thigh garter and then to the ceiling. He’s so red you think he might explode.

“You’ve been with a girl before, yeah?”

With lips pursed in a tight line, he shakes his head.

“Sounds about right.”

“And you’re so experienced?”

You flash him a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry about it, mama’s boy.”

“I’m not a mama’s boy!”

“No? So you just let your mother treat you like a little baby at your grown age? You let her pick out sex tutors for you?”

“I—” He stops himself from speaking to mull over your questions. “If it’s what she deems necessary…”

“Because our biggest fear is sexually awkward you knocking up some girl at school, right?”

“I… I would never! Safe sex is—”

“Very important when you’re not trying to conceive. Good boy. See? You know your stuff.”

Riddle’s eyes narrow into vicious slits. You brush his scorching vitriol off and turn towards the board. Procuring a piece of chalk, you scrawl words on it: Birds and Bees 101. Wholly unamused, Riddle folds his arms across his chest.

“Your mother told me you’re gonna study medicine, so you’re probably familiar with everything already. And I’m sure you know all about the baby-making process on a biological level.” You whirl to face him, your tits bouncing with the peppy motion. Riddle swallows thickly. “But just to make sure… Let’s review.”

“R-Review? You don’t mean—”

“What’s this?” Your hands close around your tits. Riddle’s enchanted with the way you squeeze them—the way they depress under your fingers.

“Um… Ahem. Well… T-The breasts. They’re a type of glandular organ located on a woman’s chest, and they’re made up of lots of tissue and fat. There’s the mammary gland—that’s what produces milk. Oh, and then there are the areolas right around the nipples. Those are—”

“You can call them what they are.”

Riddle blinks, shaken from his studious spiel. “W-What?”

“You know the word, mama’s boy.”

He flusters. “Yes, I’m aware. But…”

“No harm in saying it.” You run your fingers over your nipples and giggle sweetly like a schoolgirl. “Go on…”

He inhales a deep breath. “They’re tits,” he mumbles, desultory. “Y-Your tits.”

You clap, beaming brightly. “Well done! Moving swiftly on…” You run your hands down the expanse of your stomach, stopping just beneath your navel. “What’s here?”

“Your womb. O-Otherwise known as the uterus. It’s where a baby grows over the course of nine months.”

“Mhm. Good job.”

He pushes his glasses up his nose, clearing his throat. “There’s more to your reproductive system than the uterus. Lots of parts. Important parts.”

“Right. But I don’t need to quiz you on it. You obviously know your stuff.”

Again, your fingers inch lower until they’re prodding at your folds. Riddle’s breath audibly hitches.

“And this?”

“Your vagina. It’s where—”

“What’s the other word?”

Riddle avoids your stare. “It sounds so vulgar…”

“So what?”

“S-So there ought to be a term that’s more…flattering.”

“Like what?” You approach him and, with the grace of a swan, lift your leg onto the desk to give him a better view of yourself. Shamelessly, you dip your fingers inside to spread yourself. “A guy called it the honeypot once. That pretty enough for you?”

Riddle squeaks and flinches back in his chair, his face now even redder than it was before. “T-That’s fine…”

“Really? I’d have thought the implication in that one is much dirtier than calling it a pussy.”

It takes him a moment to connect the dots, but once he does he gasps. “Ah. Then…”

You press inwards with your fingers, exaggerating a pornographic sigh. “Yeah?”

“Can I… M-May I call it your flower?”

“Sure.” His shoulders slacken with a flicker of relief. Your next words shatter that and his pride in one fell swoop. “That one’s not as special as you think, mama’s boy. I’ve heard it all—every type of flower you can think of.”

“Even a rose?”

“Especially a rose.” His lips twist into a disappointed moue. You chuckle and add, “You can call it a rose if you want. I don’t mind.”

Riddle meets your eyes then, searching them for the joke. When one doesn’t present itself, he relaxes. “All right. It’s a very pretty rose. Soft…”

“Aww. Thanks for saying so. It’s softer inside, y’know. See?” Spreading yourself wider, you angle your hips to bless him with the full view. “My fingers slide right in. Wanna guess why?”

“B-Because the vagina naturally—” He stops himself, his brows knitting together in contemplation. When he speaks next, it’s with a determined sort of conviction. “When you’re aroused, your rose produces a natural lubricant during sexual excitement.”

“Mhm. We call that ‘feeling good and getting wet,’ Dr. Rosehearts.”

“Yes. Y-Yes, I know that.” He eyes your pussy, a ravenous glimmer in his intelligent blue-greys. “And the wetness—it’s supposed to make it feel better. To make insertion easier, I mean.”

“Right again.” You ease your fingers out but not before thrusting them deeper just so he can hear the sinful sounds. They shimmer with your essence, enticing in a forbidden way. “What about the other parts? How about this spot here?” You brush against the hood of your clit, circling it slowly.

Riddle watches, hopelessly spellbound. “The clitoris.”

“I’m impressed. Most guys don’t know about it.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“But it’s your most sensitive erogenous zone! Just how uninformed does one have to be to neglect such a crucial part to your sexual anatomy?”

“Woefully uninformed, I’m afraid,” you mutter with a pout. Your fingertips drag your hood up to reveal that pretty, perky nub. “I think it’s dumb your mother wants me to talk you out of sex. You’re going to college. You’re an adult. You’re free to do whatever you want.”

“I…” Riddle frowns at that last line. “I have no interest in it. Besides, it’ll only hinder my studies. If I really need it, I’ll just masturbate. That’s healthy every now and then, and it doesn’t break any rules.”

“Really? No interest at all?” You shoot him a knowing look and run your tongue along your bottom lip. “Because your dick’s telling a different story.”

Riddle sputters, embarrassed, and squeezes his thighs together. His hands fly to cover his lap. “That’s because you’re—” He gazes at the floor. “Because you’re so pretty…”

Temporarily thrown off course, you gape at him. “What?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Gathering the remnants of your mask, you piece it together and laugh. “Not the first time I’ve heard someone describe it like that.”

“Not just your pussy.” Your gaze snaps to his. He smiles, impish. “I’m sure you know what I mean, Teacher.”

You exhale a short laugh. “Someone’s suddenly confident.”

Riddle rises from his seat. His fingers close around your wrist, gently pulling it away from your clit. He moves around the desk to stand in front of you and then, before you can comprehend his intentions, he’s pushing you down onto the desk. You yelp at the sudden change in position, your eyes blown wide when he presses his clothed hard-on against your bare pussy.

“You’re doing a poor job at dissuading me from wanting sex.”

“I wasn’t trying to.”

“Not in that outfit.” He grabs at the meat of your thighs and parts them. “If Mother knew you lied to her…”

You shake your head at him. “Please don’t tell her. I… I’m being serious. I need this money.”

“Desperately?”

Your lip curls into the beginning of a sneer. You hate feeling powerless more than anything, but the fiery glaze in his eyes is just as troubling. “I’m not going to beg.”

“I haven’t asked for that yet.”

You roll your eyes. “Not funny. I agreed to teach you about sex. We’re not actually doing it.”

“A shame.”

“You’ll find a nice girl at school. Don’t lose hope, mama’s boy. Lots of girls like the smart types who’ll give ’em a lecture on biology and stuff.”

“I think you misunderstand. I don’t want other girls.”

“Okay?”

“My mother’s paying for a tutor and I desire you, so unless you want to leave here as a lying cheat…” He hums, seeming awfully haughty to hold the only thing that tethers you to him above your head. “You need the money, right?”

“Yes. Sure, of course I do. But—” You shift on the desk, silently horrified when he rocks against you. “We can’t. Your mother—”

“Weren’t you the one saying I should live my life? That I have the freedom to do as I please?”

“That doesn’t mean—come on; listen to yourself. You can’t honestly think I’d fuck you.”

“No? And yet you came wearing this outfit, parading around the study with your pussy and tits out.” He glances past you at the window. “And you didn’t even bother to close the curtains… How brazen.”

Your attempt to jerk away from him is made in vain. He pins you down onto the desk, one hand squeezing your breast, while the other works to fish himself from his trousers. Now hard and leaking, his cock rests against your stomach. It’s not a terrible size. If anything, it’s perfect. Just right for your tastes.

“W-Wait! It’s not safe. You can’t—” You inhale sharply, bucking up towards his hand when he presses his thumb against your clit. Biting your lip, you fix him with a glower. “If you pay me… If you promise not to tell your mother—”

Riddle leans in close. “No one needs to know. No one but us.”

Your eyes flit about the room. With a withering sigh, you submit to his touch. “You’d better pull out in time.”

Riddle rolls his hips once and his cock drags along your folds. You hiss through your teeth at this new friction, a sinful delight more dizzying than any type of alcohol consumed in excess. “Do you want to be a mother?”

“What I want has nothing to do with you. I’m just—ooh—t-trying to survive. You wouldn’t know what that’s like, so don’t poke fun.”

Riddle hums, kneading your breast and rubbing you to the edge all at once. It’s so very obviously his first time, his zealous nature trumping any sort of experienced technique. It still does the trick, though, sending little bolts of pleasure up your spine.

“My mother wouldn’t just choose anyone. Her standards are very high.” His eyes flick to your face, drinking in your expression as it shifts with restrained bliss. “Somehow you’ve earned her approval.”

“Lying’ll do that.”

“Maybe.” His fingers replicate the motions you did earlier, though with a singular objective in mind. He’s so focused on succeeding in this endeavor that it makes him look so stiff. Under any other circumstances, you’d find it cute. “Mother always knows what’s best for me. Obviously you’ve met her criteria if she’s hired you.”

“Spoken like a true mama’s boy.” Seeing as this is now your unavoidable fate, you reach up to touch his shoulders. He jolts, his initial glare softening. You tamp down another giggle and massage up and along his arms. “Relax a little. Don’t rush so much.”

Or do. Let’s get this over with before your mother catches us.

Riddle traces two fingers along your labia. He’s quiet as he takes all of you in, and when he sinks three fingers into your gooey heat his breath catches in his throat. “Are you… D-Do you feel good?”

You reach for his unoccupied hand and guide it to your clit. Riddle understands the suggestion well enough, for he massages you slowly. Sucking in another breath, you nod at him.

“Not bad. You’re getting there.”

His neglected cock throbs at the praise, and so you wrap your fingers around it to give it the same amount of attention he’s currently giving you. Riddle grits his teeth at the contact.

“You can move your fingers. Don’t just focus on my clit.”

“Ah. Right. Of course,” he babbles dumbly, so swept up in everything that you are, so very eager to please.

You’re like a work of art pinned to his desk, a delicacy more forbidden than anything from the bakery. Sugary-sweet, adorned in skimpy ruche, you’re a temptation laid bare. Delicately, as if you might shatter, he curls his fingers to press up against your insides. Riddle watches you arch up towards him, your hand working his cock maddeningly slow and steady. It feels good—better than anything he could have ever imagined.

His eyes trail from your lips to your tits to your pussy stretched around his fingers. “Do you have any plans for this summer?”

The sudden question catches you off guard. You were expecting something related to sex, not whatever this new shred of curiosity is. Still, that doesn’t stop you from dragging him closer to the edge of ecstasy with every tug of your fist.

“Why?”

“I… I’d like to get to know you.”

“Me?”

“Of course. You’re more than a body to me.”

“How charming. I just—” You frown, unable to follow where he’s going with this. “Why?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Even though he says it like it’s a fact, he looks shy. “I want to know you.”

“Uh… Yeah… Okay.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Not that… It’s just hard to imagine you having any girl friends.”

Riddle rolls his eyes and grinds his thumb into your clit. You bite back a whine as his fingers pump in and out of you. “Is that space open or closed?”

“You know which one.”

“You could be the one to close it.”

You meet his eyes then. For a short minute, the two of you hold each other’s stare. And then, breaking free from his hypnotic hold, you squeeze his length gently. He shudders, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

“And what about you? You excited for your first year?”

“Mm, yeah,” he murmurs, rutting into your hand. His fingers spread you open, scissoring gently.

“Just make sure to take time for yourself. Have fun. Live.”

“What did you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you were at school—how’d you manage?”

“I never went.” He opens his mouth to interject, but you beat him to it. “Couldn’t afford it.”

“Oh…”

“It’s fine! I’ve got plenty of experience in other things. I don’t need school for that.”

Riddle doesn’t believe your feigned optimism for a second. “If you could’ve gone, what would you have studied?”

You release his cock from your hold and reach up to pull his glasses from his face. Gingerly, minding the fragile frames, you set them aside. You lift your index to your lips, effortlessly coy. “It’s a secret.”

Before he can protest, you tap the hand at your cunt next. Riddle’s fingers, wet and shiny, slide out with a slick squelch. “I think you can do it.”

“What?”

“Go to school and study what you want. I believe in you.”

A wooden laugh tumbles from your lips. “Thanks for the encouragement, mama’s boy.”

“I have a name, you know.”

You smile easily. “You want me to call you something else? How does ‘good boy’ sound?”

Even though he tries not to let it show, his cock betrays his reticence with a small twitch. He’s an open book. Not wanting to give you the satisfaction, he lines himself up instead. Your fingers slip down to spread yourself for him.

“S-Slowly…” you whisper, stumbling over your breath as the head of his cock presses inside. Shallow at first before more inches fill you.

Riddle heaves a shaky gasp, his eyes wide with amazement. “I… I’m inside you…”

“How’s it feel?” “Warm. Soft. Snug. R-Really good.” He bows his head and digs his fingers into your hips. You think he has a dozen more adjectives on the tip of his tongue, each one just as fluffy as the last. “D-Do you feel good? It doesn’t hurt?”

“I’m fine.” You wind your legs around his waist to pull him closer. Your hands come to rest upon his shoulders once more. “Move your hips.”

Riddle does just that. His pace is awkward and inexperienced, every motion unsteady and jerky, as he searches for the right rhythm. He falls into it surprisingly fast, and it isn’t long until he’s smoothly rutting into you. You grab at his shirt, your breath coming in reedy huffs.

“Good. You—haa—good. You’re doing good.” Praise pours from your lips like a waterfall, plentiful and refreshing. It invigorates him, fills him with a confidence that wasn’t there before.

The soft slap of skin on skin fills the room. You keep your voice in check, lest you lose yourself and alert Mrs. Rosehearts. Riddle seems to be doing the same, even though it’s obvious he’s struggling much more than you are. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth to suppress his groans.

“You can touch me,” you whisper, petting his cheek. He blinks at you, his face aflame with a bright blush.

Nervously, he reaches for you and then pauses. Contemplation passes over his features. “What feels better? I want you to—no. I will make sure you cum. I’ve studied it, actually. I know how long it takes.”

“Look at you, doing your research like a diligent student. You want extra credit?”

Riddle chuckles and pinches your clit between two fingers. The rest of your teasing tapers off into a lewd squeal. “What was that about extra credit?”

“You’re awfully bold for your first time.”

“I’m not clueless.” His hips press inwards, plastering you to the desk, and his cock brushes that special spot within—the spot that has you seeing stars, your every nerve tingling with pleasure. You choke around a delighted gasp. Riddle, feeling victorious,  places his hand against your stomach, as if searching to feel his cock thrust up inside you. “Will I see you again after this?”

“If your mother wants me to come back and give you another pointless lecture on celibacy and safe sex, sure.”

“No, not that. Outside of this.”

“Don’t you have friends you’d rather hang out with?”

“I…do.”

“So spend time with them.”

Riddle doesn’t dignify that with a retort. With the way his eyes gloss over, you wonder just how many of these friends are within physical distance. The conversation stalls out into silence.

“You’ll make lots of friends at school. So many you’ll probably forget all about me.”

Riddle yanks your hips to meet his, driving himself deeper into your pussy.

“A-And you’ll find a nice girl to love if you’re looking for that kinda thing.”

“I am,” he confesses, breathless. “I want to get married and—mmh—start a family one day… I want to study law—become a lawyer… Mother thinks medicine suits me, but I can’t agree. Law is fascinating. It’s a perfect fit for me. Far better than medicine.”

You drag your thumb over your mouth, wetting it with your lipgloss, and then press it to his lips. The indirect kiss sends a tidal wave of arousal over him, darkening the tips of his ears in striking vermillion. You offer him a gentle smile while he recovers from that devastating flirt.

“I’ll make sure to hire you as my lawyer if I ever get into legal trouble.”

“You’d better not!” He laughs and shakes his head in amused disbelief. “But if you do, I’ll be there for you. Always.”

“Thanks, Riddle.”

Maybe I judged him too harshly. He’s not so bad.

In that stuffy study, just as the late afternoon gives way to red-orange streaked across a purple-pink sky, Riddle fucks you against that desk in all manner of rhythms. It’s when he finally picks up speed that you realize he’s nearing his end. You mirror his enjoyment, strung along by titillating touches and whispered words drenched in sweetness. You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve reached rapture alongside him, your pussy now brimming with cum. There’s so much it leaks out of your slick hole when he draws away, only to burrow his cock deeper to stuff it back inside.

The room reeks of sweat and sex. You think, if not your disheveled appearance, the smell will definitely tell Mrs. Rosehearts all she needs to know.

“I love you,” Riddle murmurs, and you’re about to ask him what he means—maybe he’s caught up in the moment and doesn’t realize what he’s saying—but then he lifts your legs up to fold you into a mating press. Coherent thoughts are knocked out of your head when he spills over, filling you up for the nth time that day. You shiver beneath him, eyes rolled back into your skull and tongue lolling out. You feel so stupid, fucked submissive by some inexperienced, upper middle class mama’s boy. Which isn’t even an insult with real heat to it, but in your hazy mind it’s all you can think of to describe him.

He grinds against you in the aftermath, panting from the exhilaration and adrenaline. 

“We need to…open the window,” you mutter, your heart thumping wildly in your chest.

Riddle admires your fucked-out expression in his sex-drunk daze. He slides out just as he feels himself going flaccid. Cum drips onto the desk below. Briefly, you struggle to recall whether or not you took your birth control today.

Something to consider later. Definitely not right now when you’re still clinging to the vestiges of your orgasm.

— — —

Mrs. Rosehearts knocks on the door, opening it to find Riddle sitting at his desk, jotting notes and occasionally pushing his glasses up. You’re standing at the blackboard, writing a list of the consequences of unplanned pregnancies. The room smells pleasantly of roses.

“Pardon my intrusion.”

You gaze at her and smile, wearing the clothes you arrived in. Nothing’s amiss. It’s perfect—thankfully. “Welcome back, Mrs. Rosehearts. We’re just about finished here.”

“Is that right? I assume all went well?”

“Very well. Your son’s a fast learner. Extremely talented.”

“I would expect nothing less.” She withdraws an envelope and hands it to you. “Thank you again for explaining it in realistic terms. Of course I doubt that my Riddle will act senselessly while he’s away, but as his mother I’m prone to worrying. Boys his age are so easily influenced.”

“O-Of course! That’s a very valid concern.” You force a chuckle.

If only she knew.

“Your pay is in that envelope. Should I ever require your assistance again, I’ll be sure to call.”

“Right… Thank you.” You hold it close to your chest. “I’m happy to help.”

You follow her out the door. She pauses to address Riddle. “Do continue reviewing your notes. We’ll convene for dinner in thirty minutes.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Mrs. Rosehearts walks you to the gate. “I wish you luck in your studies. If I don’t see you again at the clinic, have a pleasant summer.”

“Thank you. You as well.” You smile, fidgeting slightly. A bead of sweat tracks a path down your leg from between cum-spattered thighs.

Finally! With this I can pay my rent and still have enough for a treat from the bakery.

It’s worth it, or so you continue to tell yourself.

— — —

From the window, Riddle watches you make the walk to your car. He lifts his phone to fit you in the camera and snaps a secret photo. He continues to watch you until you’ve driven off and turned the corner, disappearing from his sight.

A tiny smile tugs at his lips.

Within his phone, put under a password lock, a special photo album exists. It’s filled with pictures taken from your social media—all of them. Every. Single. One. He’s resourceful when he wants to be. He can play the parody of a tech genius when he sets his sights on something.

And you’re just perfect.

[bengiyo]

Last Twilight Ep 7 Stray Thoughts

Last week, August tried to make up with Day after standing him up on their date. Aon also showed up that day and mentioned that he is participating in a race with his new girlfriend. Day and August started practicing together, making Mhok a bit jealous. August organized a surprise party for Day with the rest of the badminton folks and kissed Day. Unfortunately, August only sees Day as a friend and walked off. Mhok confronted August and then took Day to a rooftop where he then kissed Day as well.

Oh hell yeah! I am so glad we’re not skipping over the kiss aftermath. Mhok is his caregiver, so this is going to immediately change things.

I love Porjai. Got her all worked up just to tell her what she already knew. These two are my favorite exes of the year.

“I didn’t say it.” Well he’s technically not lying.

This show is excellent. August is leaving, so we’ll deal with his mess and then eject him in the first part!

Despite being mad at August last episode, I’m really glad these two get closure. Friend break ups are worse than romantic ones.

They used “delulu” as a translation! Who is on the sub team for this show?? I want to send them flowers!

“That’s so fast.” I love Gee.

“About last night…” Don’t get me started, y’all.

Alright. That rejection in the car hurt my feelings.

Ope. I’m back. Day told on himself and Mhok is back in the game.

Mhok fixed the headband. I love you and your unsubtle metaphors, Aof.

Okay, I love Mhok blaming the shoes August picked for them not being able to sync.

I’m glad Sea is actually an athlete, so he doesn’t have to fake a cramp.

Night definitely notices how comfortable these two have gotten with each other.

This bed scene was probably super easy for them. Sea is always falling asleep easily on set.

OMG they’re stayin gat Mhok’s place before the event.

Porjai said, “Really, in front of my sardine salad?”

Namtam is actually so good. I like the way she uses her eyes.

Mhok planted jasmine at his house!!

She’s naming the baby Mee because Mhok has been practicing reading the book! I’m going to explode.

This show is doing a great job of making me miss Rung.

We have hit on a rare trope I love: Two people who are working out their feelings for each other are sharing a bed and hearing others go at it through the walls.

I’m glad we’re seeing more of Night. Mark is so good at communicating without saying much.

Oh, Day, don’t read too much into that conversation. Mhok’s friend is just looking out for him.

Shoot your shot, Porjai!

I am with Mhok. That’s enough games. Let’s make it clear.

Aof, please continue to be unsubtle. I love you.

Porjai and Night begins! Look at me rooting for hets in BL again.

I’m gonna lose it. Mhok is acting out Aon’s proposal for Day.

I see we were having too much fun. Let’s crank up the angst.

Look at them trying to assuage us with this PPL.

Beach trip next week! This was a lovely episode. It’s so smooth.

[quietlyimplode]

Black Widow Fest 2023 - Day Two

The Aquarium

Warnings: a visit to the aquarium is cut short :(

Word count: 1212

Pairing: Clint/Nat

This fic is thanks to @broken--bow ‘s amazing art (for my eyes only) and borne of a conversation for Clint and Nat having a place to meet, that only they knew about, and meant something to them. The penguins of Kyoto Aquarium are famous for having their relationships recorded. A fluffy piece before we get into the real angst of the week. As always, your likes, comments and reblogs are always so appreciated. Welcome to day two of bwfest2023.

Clint rubs his arm, the scratch from the katana not deep, but itchy as it heals. He nods and smiles to the straight faced Japanese man sitting across from him.

The man nods and stares back.

Clint forgets that, as an American, his mannerisms are not universal. He wonders how Natasha is getting on.

He sends a quick text and stands to get off at the station he has no hope in pronouncing.

His phone vibrates and he smiles.

She’s almost there too. He opts to wait for her train, and sits on the bench.

He loves the Japanese train system.

It says the next train arrives in 4 minutes.

And it will. He loves the fact that if it’s even if a minute late, they apologise.

The train system in America is horrible.

Natasha steps off the newly arrived train, the announcement permeating the station.

Clint waves low and smiles big.

“Hey,” he grins, giving her a hug and kiss into her hair.

“Hey,” she grins back.

“How long do you think before they realise we aren’t on the plane right now?”

He laughs.

“Soon I think.”

“Shall we?”

He takes her hand, and rubs his thumb over her knuckles.

“You’re doing okay?”

She nods.

“I’m wearing like a pound of makeup. And the stupid rib wrapping is making me sweat in all the wrong places.”

She lifts her top slightly to show that she’s actually strapped her broken ribs.

“Well done,” he tells her, slightly proud that she’s taking care of herself.

“You?” she asks.

He shrugs, lifting his sleeve to show his bandage wrapping, then slightly lifts his t-shirt to show the bruising on his hip.

Natasha nods, taking his hand and squeezing it.

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

Clint smiles as they ascend the stairs, squinting in the bright August light.

To anyone, they look like tourists, not international spies, one back from a mission in Sapporo and the other from a mission in Singapore.

Kyoto was a midway point, somewhere to meet, reset and have a much needed date.

“This felt like a shorter walk last time,” she huffs.

He squeezes her hand and lets go, the sweat on his palms making it uncomfortable.

He agrees but doesn’t want to tell her that it’s likely because the injuries she’s carrying are taking it out of her.

They round on the Aquarium, Natasha seamlessly buying tickets and leading him to the entry.

The Giant Salamander is the first thing they see, and they stop to see them piled on top of each other.

“They’re so large.”

They stop and stay still with the salamanders, before Clint is distracted by the seal. It swims fast and he migrates over to follow it’s movement.

Natasha grabs his hand again, and points to the sign for the penguins.

“How long do we have?” she asks, looking to the sign and then the café.

“Food, then penguins? Or penguins, then food?”

“Mostly I just want to see the penguins,” he laughs.

Natasha loves this side of Clint, the one where he seems so playful and carefree. He just enjoys life and what’s in front of him.

They guide each other until the large board of the penguin relationships greets them, and she can’t help but laugh too.

“There’s been some changes since we’ve been here,” she tells him, pointing to the board.

“Oh no! Sen and Maru are not together.”

“What about Barney?”

“Clint, just because you can’t read Japanese, doesn’t mean you can make up names for the penguins,” she chastises.

“I can, it’s consistent. Barney, the one that starts with the hiragana ば, then ど for Doris.”

“You know some hiragana, and you’ve just generalised that?”

Clint continues to the tell her the hiragana he knows, and Natasha doesn’t have it in her to correct his poor pronunciation.

It’s like when she tries to teach him the Cyrillic alphabet.

He’ll get there. It just takes time.

He often gets sad about how quickly she picks up languages and how long it takes him.

“Barney and Doris aren’t together anymore.”

He points to the broken love heart and traces it with his finger to the two penguins.

His pout makes her laugh again, and she points out a few more changes before moving onto the actual penguins.

“They’re just cool,” she breathes, staring at them as they play and move around the keepers.

Clint looks to her and then to the small animals, playing and squeezes her hand.

“They are, aren’t they?”

He feels his phone buzzing in his pocket, as he takes a step towards the window.

He knows it’s Phil.

They’ve both missed their check ins.

Natasha’s phone is next.

“Don’t answer,” he implores, with his best puppy dog look.

She sighs and shakes her head, unlocks the phone and says hello.

“Yeah, we’re together.”

He laughs at her rolling her eyes, as they move along, sidestepping children until they find a quieter spot.

“Medical won’t miss me. Yes they’re strapped. Umm. I don’t know. Fine. 8pm.”

Natasha hands him the phone.

“He wants to talk to you.”

He growls low.

She smiles in revenge.

“He called you first,” she whispers, pressing the phone into his hand.

“Hello?”

“Clint? You missed check in.”

“Yeah.”

The keeper moves into the cage with food, and they sit together next to everyone else.

“You’re both okay?”

He starts to feel bad, not telling Phil their plan to meet up.

“Yeah, we just needed… time. After Suriname, and the girls. I think. Even though we had separate missions, we just needed a break.”

Natasha’s head pops up at the mention of Suriname.

He shakes his head, hoping to convey that it’s all okay.

“Understood. You have til 8pm. Then, I can’t keep it from Fury, and he’ll probably have disciplinary actions. If you miss the plane, I can’t help, okay? You have four hours to get to Kansai.”

“Yeah, yeah okay, okay.”

Phil pauses.

“She said she strapped her ribs, did she?”

Clint glances at Natasha.

“Yeah, she did.”

“And you, you took care of your wounds? Including the stab wound?”

Clint nods, “yeah, it’s fine.”

Phil’s huff, and pause conveys nothing but patience for his charges.

“8pm Clint.”

And he hangs up the phone.

The penguins are eating.

Natasha smiles and takes his hand.

He passes the phone back to her.

“You just had to answer, didn’t you?”

“8pm, the curfew?”

Clint sighs, looking out as they waddle along then dive.

“More like 6 for check in, and an hour and a half to get from here to the airport. Which means…”

“We have to leave now?”

He stares out.

“Yeah. I think so.”

They take the long route out, passing the dolphins, then the sharks and jellyfish. They’re both quiet as they approach the end, and even quieter as they exit.

Silence on the train, each lost in their own thoughts.

“We’ll come back here,” she promises, “just like we always do.”

“Yeah,” he replies quietly, “maybe Doris and Barney will be back together.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

It’s clear that both of them don’t want to go. That the brief interlude of normalcy, whilst gave them pause, is not their lives.

Clint glances to her.

Kisses the top of her head.

“We’ll be back,” he promises.

“We’ll be back.”

.

[adamwatchesmovies]

Monster Hunter (2020)

Most probably wouldn’t consider Monster Hunter good for valid reasons. I will acknowledge the movie's flaws while admitting I enjoyed it for what it is. There are some cool monster designs, exciting action scenes and unexpected turns. Today, that’s enough for me and I don’t think I’ll be the only one who says so.

U.S. Army Ranger Captain Natalie Artemis (Milla Jovovich) and her United Nations security team are searching for a missing team of soldiers in the desert when they are suddenly transported to another world. On this hostile planet, humans co-exist with savage monsters of all shapes and sizes. Joining forces with a warrior from the New World (Tony Jaa), Artemis heads towards a mysterious tower in the distance. “The Hunter” was headed that way with his troupe of warriors before they became separated. Artemis hopes the tower is linked to the storm that ripped her away from Earth.

The neat thing about this movie is that Artemis and The Hunter don’t speak a common language. I mean, how could they? After realizing they’d rather stand together against the monsters that would eat, squish, incinerate or lay eggs inside them, our heroes team up. Most of the movie is about Artemis and The Hunter slowly learning to trust each other despite not being able to fully understand what the other is saying. Oh, and dodging the various monsters along the way. Actually, I wish the film showed off more monsters than it does, mostly because the big bad at the end is generic. It looks plenty cool, but the design is uninspired, particularly when compared to the Apceros, the Diablos or the Nerscyllas. Those creatures are memorable and unique, so you’re not even sure if they’re hostile or what their abilities might be. When/if our heroes have to fight them, you’ll have a great time learning what their weak points are and what the best strategy is.

I’ve never played any of the games the film is inspired by but if I were to guess, I’d say it captures the feel of them about as well as Paul W.S. Anderson’s other adaptation of a Capcom property: Resident Evil. That’s to say that the plot's nothing like it, but the visuals are there. I say this because we see plenty of weird-looking characters and people with weapons that probably wouldn’t make sense in real life but certainly look cool - The Hunter’s gigantic bow, for instance. It doesn’t make for a deep film, but as something you kick back and watch, it's certainly entertaining.

Where Monster Hunter loses points is during the last third, when we’re introduced to a Monster World inhabitant who speaks English. How he knows it doesn’t make much sense. It feels like a studio-mandated decision to make sure people would understand what’s going on, but come on. We spent over an hour of this movie piecing things together without anyone holding our hand. Why not have confidence in us paying attention all the way through? Monster Hunter also makes bizarre choices right at the end. The film ends. The credits start rolling. Then it starts up again and concludes. The credits roll once more only for a stinger that promises a sequel to pop up once the last name has scrolled past. The “first” conclusion wasn’t definitive. It was elegant in a way that said “This part of the adventure is over, but there are more monsters out there”. Going over that thought two more times is clumsy.

There’s not much dialogue and the plot is straightforward. That’s appropriate for a movie called Monster Hunter. The world is full of monsters. Find a way to survive the encounters and get back home! Sure, it means the title is a giant misnomer but should that promised sequel materialize (it’s not going to) it would’ve made sense. I went into Monster Hunter expecting it to be terrible because, despite a few recent outliers, most video game adaptations have been lackluster at best. I was pleasantly surprised. I'd watch another Monster Hunter. I'd even watch this again before any of the Resident Evil films. (August 6, 2023)

[the-himawari]

A3! Troupe Event Translation - Sunny Blanc (5/11)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Izumi: Woah, I feel like more people are out than last time.

Guy: The number of stalls may have increased as well.

Tasuku: They might have increased the scale since it’s so popular.

Azuma: All of us want to browse different things this time, so let’s meet up again after an hour and show off what we purchased.

Tsumugi: Sure. Alright then, see you later—.

Homare: “How do you do? Arisugawa Homare here. At the present moment, I am at the World Market with everyone in Winter troupe.”

Tasuku: Are you really doing a VLOG here…

Homare: Shall we film together?

Tasuku: I’m going to take a look at the junk parts way over there.

Hisoka: …I’m heading a different direction too.

Homare: I think the sweets corner is next to the used books corner. “Now then, why don’t we head off together! Let’s find a gem that’s one-of-a-kind!”

Hisoka: …*Sigh*.

Foreign boy: 《Ah, that guy over there! 》

Homare: Oh my? It appears that young man at that stall is calling out to you, Hisoka-kun.

Hisoka: ?

Foreign boy: 《Long time no see! Do you remember me? 》

Hisoka: Ah… (It’s the kid who was a customer at August’s candy shop…)

Foreign boy: 《I’m glad I got to meet you again, mister. 》

Hisoka: 《Same here…》

Homare: Hm… his artworks truly are a sight to behold… They are simple, but it is as if they see the true nature of the viewer’s heart… 《Did you paint all of these? 》

Foreign boy: 《Yes! I mostly have landscape paintings here, but I also draw portraits quite often. 》 《Here, like these—I love painting people’s smiling faces or how they look while they’re conversing. 》

Homare: 《Your portraits are fantastic. The expressions are full of life and it warms your heart. 》

Foreign boy: 《If you have something you want me to paint, then I can do it here. 》

Homare: 《Ooh! In that case, draw me like one of your—》

Hisoka: 《Okay, can I think about it and ask you later? 》

Foreign boy: 《No problem. 》

Customer: Excuse me. About this painting here—.

Foreign boy: 《Ah, yes. 》 《Sorry, I have to get back to it—I’ll be in this spot the whole time the event is running, so please come back anytime. 》

Homare: Hisoka-kun, and here I thought I was going to have my portrait painted.

Hisoka: …You’re enough on your own, Arisu.

-pause-

Homare: I bought a lot as usual.

Hisoka: …What are you shopping for?

Homare: I am going to take a quick peek at that shop next. I found a rare poetry anthology last time.

Hisoka: Mmmm…

Homare: —Oh, is this not the art book I have always been searching for? I can’t believe I found it here…!

Hisoka: This smell…

Homare: Hm?

Hisoka: —. (Will I remember again…? I want to remember… but…)

Homare: Take the camera, Hisoka-kun. Film me finding this treasure at the end of my hunt.

Hisoka: …No thanks. That’s a pain.

Homare: …Hmph. That’s why you’re Hisoka-kun.

Hisoka: What do you mean…?

Homare: Never mind. Well then, shall we return to where everyone else is?

-pause-

Izumi: Ha~. We shopped ‘til we dropped. It was fun!

Tsumugi: You bought a lot of spices like usual.

Izumi: Did you get gardening goods, Tsumugi-san? They’re nice.

Tsumugi: It’s fun to look at the wide variety of tools they have in countries where gardening is popular.

Tasuku: Mikage’s impressive too. Those are all sweets, aren’t they?

Hisoka: …I gave up on what I couldn’t hold.

Tasuku: There was more than that…?

Tsumugi: Holding a drinking party after the World Market reminds me of our closing party for our 6th performance.

Izumi: The only thing different back then was the shop.

Azuma: Mhm, Journey didn’t exist yet.

Guy: What would you like for your drinks and appetizers?

Azuma: Seeing as we went to the World Market today, it might be fun to try drinks from all over the world.

Izumi: Great idea!

Tasuku: We’ll leave it to you then, Guy.

Guy: Understood. Please wait a moment.

Izumi: (Sharing drinks with everyone at Journey like this has become a familiar sight.) (It sure is relaxing…)

Hisoka: …

Izumi: (Hisoka-san’s smiling…) Are you having fun, Hisoka-san?

Hisoka: ? Why do you ask?

Izumi: You were smiling. I feel like you smiled more than usual today.

Hisoka: Really…?

Izumi: (I wonder if we could switch up his mood, even a little.)

-pause-

Azuma: Can I get a refill?

Izumi: I’m good with water.

Guy: Coming right up.

Hisoka: Zzz, zzz…

Azuma: He’s sleeping blissfully surrounded by sweets, hm?

Tsumugi: He found a lot of marshmallows, so it looks like he cheered up a bit.

Izumi: I’m glad.

*dreams starts*

Hisoka: (I’m starving… I wonder if anything fell around here…) (What’s that… There’s a bunch of letters written down…) (I wonder what it says…)

Shopkeeper: Are you interested in books?

Hisoka: Books?

Shopkeeper: That’s what that is. My, have you never seen a book until now?

Hisoka: I can’t even read the words… If it’s not food, then I’m not interested…

Shopkeeper: Books aren’t edible. That’s very true. However, you see, books will enrich your life. Well, even if I tell you that right now, it might just go in one ear and out the other… But I pray that one day, the day will come for you when you can think you’re interested in books as well. I’m sure when that time comes, you will have become much happier than you are at this moment.

*dream ends*

Hisoka: —.

Homare: Zzz, zzz…

Hisoka: (This smell… is it from the book Arisu bought… I guess I had that dream because of this scent…) (This time it wasn’t about August. It was before I met him…) (Ah, that’s right… that old lady who was selling books didn’t treat me harshly like a dirty rag. She talked to me.) (She treated me like a human being…) (When I saw that rosary a while ago, I recalled the kindness of a priest in the past.* So there were other people like that…) (It’s just like that old lady said. I forgot…) …

*flashback starts*

Izumi: Are you having fun, Hisoka-kun?

Hisoka: ? Why do you ask?

Izumi: You were smiling. I feel like you smiled more than usual today.

*flashback ends*

Hisoka: (I was smiling… so I had fun… I had lots of fun visiting the World Market with everyone…) (But some day, that memory might disappear… Even though I want to make sure I remember everything…) —.

---

*References Hisoka’s SSR MANKAI Memory card story

previous | next

[randomsmilingpotatoes]

2 x 04 commentary

- dammit Henry I thought you were a good friend!!!!

- ugh not people judging felice:/ she doesn’t deserve this:(

- okay there are a lot of characters shooting things this season. this isn’t looking good

- when will sara and august STOP getting shit they want

- hahah I love this friend group of girls

- okay this valentines thing sounds like it’ll get real messy real fast ahaha

- not a repeat of the table scene but about felice😭

- they all just watched Simon walk out and didn’t even comment on it? it’s like they all forgot or disregard that relationship

- awe simon:( stop using Marcus thooo

- yeah felice has a lot going on

- okay wille and Simon being in the same PE class is Not. A good idea😂

- wille’s right that is hypocritical. honestly this is not scenes I expected to be watching but it’s great aha

- “at least he’s open about liking me” :(

- WILHELM. “You’re the one who can’t accept my role” that’s DIFFERENT. DIFFERENT SITUATION.

- “no, maybe I can’t” yeah:/ I love how much this show is delving into not only the class divide but the two different worlds and the reality they’re facing Bc of it

- oh my fucking god. thank god felice is calling him out here , he is actually being so fucking selfish it’s hard to watch

- YAY. DEVELOPMENT!!!! thank you wille that was really nice🥹 now we can go back to scheduled programming with their friendship, hopefully.

- “I have to let him go.” honestly, for now, yeah:(

- also felice looks so beautiful someone please fall in love with her for real:(

- omg nils!! legend. this is someone wille needed to talk to

- okay that was interesting. from that perspective you can see why they find it easier to stick to their circle . but you wonder where it stops

- hmmm the way she’s looking at her reading those letters makes me think it wasn’t just making out with your friend at a party 👀

- how dare august stand butt naked at the open window like that. he deserves someone to capture him in revenge

- august and Sara going to the ball together?? goodbye felice and Sara friendship

- okay Stella and frederika was not a ship I expected but I did need it😭

- omg FINALLY sara choosing her friends over august. I kinda wish she did go with him tho bc I want felice to know about them

- awe come ON how did Marcus pull through like that😭 man’s too perfect for him surely something’s gonna happen between them like come on💀

- WHAT ARE THEIR NAMES😭😭

- THEY DONT HAVE NAMES. bc he doesn’t want to repeat last time with wille or bc Marcus isn’t important for that??

- YESSS it was stellaaaa

- “I’d rather be secretly in love than be her ex that she hates” valid. I think wille would’ve rathered that too😭

- Simon purposely making wille jealous huh?

- “I have to be okay” gooddd im proud!! now have fun with your friendsss

- watching this with the costumes but modern party is so jarring hahah

- Simon stop using this damn man

- omg august told Alexander. tbh I was waiting for the consequences of that to fall through

- wille that was so random but I’m glad he was so nice

- THANK YOU WILLE. that was what we needed you to say!! except Simon clearly does still have feelings AHH

- honestly did not expect august to care that Sara stood him up but that’s an interesting turn. Comparing to wille and Simon tho?? I’m a bit confused how their situation is similar unless she means that they couldn’t stay together after felice knows but it’s not the same thing bc it’s bc she and august have done shit things

- Simon going to find willeee. I feel bad for Marcus tho ngl💀

- SIMON don’t miss your big performance!! no!!! not for wille not for anyone!!

- “I’m just trying to move on” so you chase your ex outside after he acknowledged that. right🤨

- OH MY GOD. And I’m so glad Simon was the one to initiate it😭😭

- I want them together but this is the wrong time😭😭

- okay he’s not missing the choir thank god. YOURE NOT SINGLE RN THO SIMON

- WILLE I would be smiling too that was a perfect kiss😭

- smiling while singing to him😭 especially when the song is about him too😭

- the song from the trailer😭

Okay this is making me emotional. I’m glad this didn’t happen until wille started to view the situation maturely though as I’d be lying if I said he deserved it in previous episodes, but I think they’re able to work it out surely their connection is unmatched, especially if he’s gonna kiss wille even when he’s in that wig💀😭

I’m not a fan of cheating storyline’s so I hope Simon does actually break up with Marcus after that.

But omg what a game changer episode!!

[lgcmedia]

so..... i’m sure i’m not the only one thinking this, but i think it’s pretty ridiculous how blatant lgc is with their favoritism towards v&a. it’s so fucking frustrating at this point because even though type zero debuted first, they’re always put on the back-burner for v&a and honestly for the new girl groups. 

uno and derek’s debut stage was for the group’s CHINESE DEBUT, and they didn’t have their first korean comeback (debut?) until november of this year, which is nearly a YEAR after they were revealed as members! not to mention that this is also nathan’s first korean comeback in almost a YEAR AND A HALF since one (monster & infinity) back in AUGUST of LAST YEAR. and don’t even get me started about how future dreams is basically becoming a survival show to solely add in new members of type zero. it’s getting exhausting to stan a group whose line-up keeps changing with every comeback, but i digress.

but the straw that broke the camel’s back is the fact that v&a had their official fandom name BEFORE type zero, when type zero as a group officially debuted over TWO YEARS before v&a?! like, how is that fair at all?!?!?! watch, i bet that lgc’s gonna reveal v&a’s official lightstick before type zero has their next comeback (IF they have their next comeback...) i’m sick and tired of lgc’s mistreatment of type zero, and i really hope i’m not the only one who feels this way.

[ + / - ] THANK YOU! FINALLY SOMEONE WITH SOME COMMON SENSE ON THIS WEBSITE! etervals love to preach that v&a and type zero are treated equally, but c’mon. BFFR. y’all cannot see how type zero are ALWAYS given leftovers, especially when they were initially pushed as the trailblazers for lgc’s next gen, and NOT say that’s mistreatment. [ + / - ] i don’t really pay attention to lgc’s groups, but this makes me feel so bad for these guys :( imagine training for so many years only to debut and be treated like this... i wouldn’t know what to do if i were in their shoes [ + / - ] oh my god, type zero fans are such BABIES. you all love to cry and moan about this supposed “mistreatment” when you won’t just admit that type zero is OBJECTIVELY less popular than v&a. of course lgc is gonna push for the group that’s gonna bring them in more money, so stop taking everything so personally. they knew what they signed up for!

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[jodilin65]

TUESDAY, AUGUST 30, 1994 Boy, I can’t believe how many entries start off with “I’m in a great mood” since I’ve been here, but it’s true. One of the reasons I’m in a great mood now is cuz I got my period. The other’s cuz I’m only on Phase 2, but yet it’s a miracle already. I’m nowhere near as tight or as wheezy as I am in the mornings or at the end of my day.

Yesterday I rearranged all the photo albums. It took a few hours, but it was fun and well worth it.

Yesterday my back sure was killing me, my boobs were killing me and I had a ton of water retaining in me.

Yesterday I got an 11-page letter from Bob, but none from my mom yet.

Last night I checked Andy’s VM, he had 57 messages. I was asleep when he came in to get his tapes, so I know he made it in OK last night. I haven’t talked to him yet, though.

Still no calls from Fran. Great, huh? I don’t know if it’s cuz he’s lost his phone, or what, but I certainly don’t miss putting up with him.

Tom’s working on installing new stuff on the computer and he’s having fun with it. Later we’ll do the thank-you cards and work on the new cooler.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 28, 1994 Boy, have I got my work cut out for me! I still haven’t gotten my mom’s letter yet, but I began a letter to my parents a little while ago.

Tomorrow I’ll have been here one whole year!!!!

Andy’s got 47 messages on his VM and he’s going to have more later.

Tom downloaded some new fonts from America online before he went to work. He told me to go through them and write down the ones I didn’t like. There were only two I didn’t really like that were samples and some of them looked the same but had different names. I really like Old English and St. Frances.

Tom’s going to show me how to make word search puzzles soon. Supposedly it’s really easy. All you do is size it, tell it what words you want to seek out, and it’ll scramble it into a word search puzzle.

The C drive crashed, so Tom had to transfer what was on there to another drive. This is why I’m glad my journals are on the B drive, as the stuff is not stored on a main drive. It goes on a floppy disk.

Shall I do another book of letters? I’m thinking about it and if I do, I’ll use 79. Got a letter from Kim yesterday, thanking me for all those Bob letters. She said she read them all in just two sittings. Wow. I thought it’d take her 20 sittings.

Tom got a book on how to make your own books, pamphlets, boxes, etc.

Yesterday he worked a lot on the cooler, making major progress with it, and I helped.

Yesterday we also went out and I got two bras. Haven’t got new underwear yet.

I got a triad optical illusion book to color. It’s a lot like the one Kim gave me in Deerfield that I’ve been looking all over for.

Also got 3 new really nice journals. Now I have a total of 81!

Sex with Tom and I have been so much better. In fact, we broke another record. He came this morning! I’m sure he’d never lie about it, but it was a mild one where nothing really came out. He said it felt really good like he was cumming, then it instantly got soft. Women sometimes have very light orgasms, so it’s possible for a guy too, I’d guess.

I wrote up the messages for the thank-you cards for Margaret, Geneva, Char and Jim and Goldie and Al.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 26, 1994 Got another shocker in the mail today. A wedding card and check for $50 from Goldie and Al. It makes me wonder who else will shock me.

It’s kind of sad to know, though, that if we had a kid, no one from my side would send even a card. Oh well, as long as Tom and I are happy. That’s what really matters. Tom said that if we did have a kid, I’d have nothing to worry about. Yeah maybe, cuz Tom’s right about most things and my parents have been known to shock me in the past. They’ve surprised me over the last few years.

As of yet, I don’t expect to hear from any aunts, uncles or cousins, but that’s their choice.

Our new color-splash address labels came. They’re really nice and there are 5 different colors - pink, blue, green, peach and yellow. I put some in journals.

Later…

Tom got up at 5:30 and we made pork chops and French fries. Then he ate me out and worked on the computer before showering and going to work.

I lay out for nearly an hour and I did get a little color. It’s pretty hot out there, but the strangest thing about it was, was that I didn’t see one bee. Fine with me, though.

I just checked and Andy’s got 35 new messages and 4 saved ones. A co-worker of his has also left several messages. I never really knew just how many minutes you could use up on VM, but I know it’s a hell of a lot more than on a regular answering machine.

I really hope to get my mother’s letter today, but in the meantime, I sent Kim and Bob’s. Weekends are when I’m the busiest, so I may mail their letters every Friday, instead of every Monday. When I’d send them on Mondays, they’d usually get them on Thursdays. If I sent it on a Friday, they’ll probably get it on Tuesday. Tom says maybe even Monday. It’s weird how it only takes 2 days for me to get mail from MA or CT, but if I send mail there, it usually takes 4 days. It’s 4 days back and forth to FL seemingly, too.

I did some singing a little while ago. It started off a little strained, then not too bad at all.

It’s been really quiet around here lately. I love it. May God please keep it that way!

Well, I’ve really been into word search puzzles lately, so I think I’ll go do that and I’ll write more later.

Later…

Bummer! No letter from my mom. I got all junk mail today.

Tammy got her figurine in one piece. Thank God. I hope my parents are as lucky and get theirs in one piece, too.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 25, 1994 Last Tuesday Tom trimmed my hair! Yup, he sure did, believe it or not, and he did a great job. He trimmed off about an inch. Now I can really be on my way to healthy hair by having him trim it regularly. No more worrying about some hairdresser suddenly going scissor-happy and taking off a foot or more.

Yesterday I called and told Ma all about CD ROM which we finally got, but I’ll get to that later. She asked if we’d gotten anything for our wedding from anyone she knows. She also commented on the thank you card that we sent them saying that that’d be nice to send to anyone that sends us anything.

At first I thought that it was kind of strange of her to bring that up since the wedding was almost 3 months ago. Then, the mail came and then I knew why she was bringing it up. Can you believe we got a card and check for $50 from Charlotte and Jim R?! This sure caught me off guard and came as a huge surprise, but at the time, it’s a bummer to know no one would send us shit if we were expecting a kid. Ma’s bad-mouthed the shit out of me to so many people for so long, that in their eyes, I could never be fit to be mother material.

I typed them a quick letter on all that’s been going on since I came here and when Tom gets up I’ll see if he can print out a thank you card with our wedding pictures on it. I don’t want to wait on this, though, so if I have to, I’ll just send the letter.

He’s been so busy. He hasn’t yet done up thank you cards for his mom’s two sisters, the 3-D postcards for Dave and Evie, Lisa’s letter, or my letter.

Anyway, Tom got up at 5 AM yesterday to show me CD ROM. It’s amazing! I mean, it is just so cool and it’s a tangible thing that shows me that my dream may still be achievable after all. It’ll take time and work, but it’s like having a quality home recording studio. It has a karaoke thing in it and you can record on different tracks just like they do in studios and on and on. It does lots of different things. We can’t make CDs yet cuz what we’d need to do it with costs a couple of grand. However, the prices will come down, but for now, we can go through the steps that come before the actual making of a CD.

I never thought in my wildest dreams that I could share my dream with the one I love, while we combine both our goals and dreams. While he’s promoting my singing, he can promote his programming and other things he does. I picked out some music to start with and he’s putting it into the computer without having to play it. Then somehow I’ll sing to the music and he’ll mix and arrange it to however it sounds best.

Yesterday for the first time in what seems and feels like ages, we had great sex. And I mean, great sex. We always say we’ll keep up on it regularly, but never do cuz of life’s unexpected happenings, but I hope that’ll change. I sure got my cake and ate it too, as he went down there and ate me out, as well as went in there. There was no pain or pressure at all. Especially when we do it on the living room couch. That’s a lot easier than the bed.

Ma said she mailed the letter she wrote to me, so I hope I get that today. I wonder what she has to say. I guess the usual everyday stuff.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 23, 1994 I sure thought I was going to puke a while ago! My heart was booming too, but after laying down I felt better.

Again I didn’t sleep too long. Maybe 5 for hours. I figure, though, my body wouldn’t have woken up if it were that tired. The bad thing about it is, is that it shoots my whole day with Tom. I’ve been up since 8 PM.

Yesterday when I woke up, I had gone the longest I’d ever gone without my meds. I was 6 hours overdue on it. I woke up very wheezy and was scared, even though I knew I wasn’t in any real trouble. I thought it would take a couple of hours, though, to get it under control, so I asked Tom to please leave as I didn’t want him to have to deal with it too. He said he’d rather stay to take care of me, closed his eyes, put his hands on my chest and it stopped. It just suddenly stopped. It was amazing.

Later…

Yuck! Gross! I threw up a little while ago. Luckily it wasn’t that bad. Tom heard me and came out nauseous, too. He didn’t throw up, though, which was nice. His is due to too much acid in his stomach and we think I fried the wrong foods. I fried fish sticks from a TV dinner and he suggested that it could be processed differently and not for fryers. Plus, there were no frying instructions on the box for frying.

Hang on while I go brush my teeth.

Later…

OK, that’s much better. Tom went back to bed. I feel much better and I can breathe OK and I’m not too tired.

Tom said not to worry about us losing time together cuz it’ll all work out. Well, his encouragement does help.

I think I’ve been going about the Phase-Out wrong. I’m supposed to draw on the cigarette before the holes and not cover them up with my lips. This way the hot air inside the cig mixes with the cooler air outside the cig to create condensation to trap the tar, nicotine, and carbon monoxide before they can get into my lungs.

I noticed stretch marks on the tops and sides of my breasts and asked Tom why it was so when I’ve never lost 40-50 pounds of “boob weight.” He said it’s cuz I never wear a bra, but not to worry about it. Well, I’m not worried, but I thought about it. I’m wearing a bra now, as support for any part of the body’s good just like when I wear the tummy/back supporter. It also helps relieve the soreness I get before that time of the month. I need new panties, so maybe sometime I can get matching bra/panty sets.

MONDAY, AUGUST 22, 1994 I taped the Barbara Streisand concert for my parents. I also typed a letter for Bob, so I’ve got letters going out to him, Kim, Lisa and Brian. I’m too tired to write anymore right now, but I will in an hour or so.

Later…

I just worked out a little while ago. The next time I work out two days from now, I’ll be adding the fourth and final weight. It’s pretty heavy now.

I spoke to Tammy, too.

When I showed Tom the thing I typed up which I copied in, he said he needs to work on communicating himself better to me. When I asked him if he was mad about it, he said no cuz he’d never be mad at me for expressing my feelings. Other than that, things are fine. He was in a good mood last night and this morning. I was, too. He grabbed my butt and squeezed it this morning and said he hopes we can have sex soon. Me too. I just get frustrated at times cuz of what I wrote before. I also want it practically all the time. I never thought I’d be like that and I wish at times that I didn’t have such an appetite.

He said he could feel my hipbone, unlike ever before. That’s cool, but I still wish my thighs and belly would go down. I still have some craters in the backs of my thighs too, and I weigh 102.

I cleaned Tom’s ears with peroxide and alcohol. The concoction Brenda taught me.

Piggles and I went for a swim earlier while Tom was in the shower.

Tom said that within a couple of days, he’s going to type up a response to all I typed up. He said don’t worry, though, it was all good stuff and he’s already thought about what he’s going to say. That’s cool and I’ll copy it in here.

I killed a huge daddy-long leg that was in my room by my speaker. I sang. I changed the sheets. I set the VCR up to record Andy’s shows, and that’s about all for now.

I hope I get the letter Ma said she did for me, but I doubt I’ll get it until later this week.

Where the fuck is our wedding pictures?! Tomorrow Tom and I will have to call them in Vegas and see where the hell they are.

Tomorrow we’re going to the post office to mail my parent’s tape of Barbara. Also, the figurines for my parent’s anniversary and Tammy’s b-day.

I may get my hair trimmed, too. It really needs it.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 21, 1994 Yesterday I was up for nearly 20 hours and when I fell asleep it was only for 5½ hours, so I’m pretty beat.

I got a letter from Lisa which I copied into 35. It’s so sweet, and she sent Tom one, too. I’ve written her back and Tom says he’s going to write her back.

Later…

It is now only 12:33 AM, but I will be copying this into my journal as is, after Tom reads what I’m going to type here. Why am I doing this? Well, I think it’s something that can help me and Tom. This way Tom can read what I write about my feelings so he won’t have to say to himself, “Now how did she word that?” or “What did she say she thinks or feels about this or that?” Sometimes it’s easier to keep track of written words, rather than spoken words. It’s kind of like what a grocery list does. You have a damn good idea of what you need, but a list allows you to always see it, so you’ll be sure to remember and better understand it. I won’t do this regularly. Only when there are things going on that are confusing.

Do I expect Tom to do this, too? No. Only if he wants to cuz I don’t want him to ever do something he may not want to do. Also, I understand that he has little time to do this and that writing and typing are more my things than his.

OK, there are 3 issues that have me somewhat or very confused as far as what Tom and I want and agree on. Other than that, I am very happy with my life and know I’m the luckiest son of a bitch alive and that Tom’s one in millions. The 3 topics I will write about are sex, having a kid, and company.

When I discuss all these topics I’ll be saying how I feel about them. Both the ups and downs on them, etc. I’m also going to say what I think Tom feels, but I fully understand that I could be wrong. Therefore, after he reads this, I hope he’ll correct me with the things that are wrong, so I’ll learn more about him and understand him better.

Sex…

I have mixed emotions about this, just like the other two subjects. I want to do it almost every day, yet I also want to never do it again. Right now I feel like the only thing that’s good about it is when he licks me. The thing I feel that greatly improved is his getting in there. It’s getting easier and easier and much less painful. But how do I think I make him feel? Like shit, if not close. It’s been about a year now and he still can’t cum. Does this make me feel confident and normal? No. What’s confusing me about it? Well, he says he doesn’t want to hit on me for sex. I feel the same way cuz I don’t want to make him think that we can only have sex when I want it. He says he wants to be spontaneous, but he also says stuff like, we’ll do it tomorrow or at such and such a time. He says when he lays down with me it could very well be a signal. But how do I know that? How do I know that he doesn’t just want to talk? If not, who makes the first move? Should I ever make a move when I’m almost positive he’s too tired, or should I wait and see if he does? If one of us wants to do one thing and the other wants to do another, should we both do what we want? Or should only one of us? And if only one of us, then who? When’s the right time during sex to suggest that I do certain things to him or that he do certain things to me? When should he just do whatever and when should I just do whatever without saying anything about it? If he goes to do something to me that I don’t feel like doing, should I tell him not to do it, or should I let him do it if it makes him happy? Should I ask him, for example, if when I’m doing him by hand if it’s too light or too hard? Or should I just let him let me know? Another thing is that I feel that he thinks that I think sex should only please me and that’s far from true, otherwise I wouldn’t care that he hasn’t cum and want to know what he likes. And doesn’t like, for that matter. Another thing, for example, is that he’s told me he couldn't care less about my hair, meaning he doesn’t care if it’s long, short, braided, etc. but is there something else he may care about that may arouse him? Anything, no matter how common or unique, like red lipstick, a blue G-string, or a black shirt? Does this make me wish Tom could magically turn into a woman when we go to have sex? Not at all, cuz sex is sex, regardless of what gender you do it with and it’s complicated with anyone. Plus, sex is more about whom you do it with, not what you do it with. That’s at least how I see it.

Well, that’s all my questions and feelings about that.

Having a kid…

This one’s the most complicated of all, cuz there’s so much more to it. Sometimes I think Tom wants a kid, sometimes I think he doesn’t. I think that’s normal, though, cuz I feel the same way. When I feel sick or tired, I’m glad I don’t have one. Or when Tom’s too busy working his ass off with little free time at all for even us. He said he wasn’t glad he didn’t have a kid and said he was concerned about what my reaction would be if we found out I was pregnant, but then just the other day, he mentioned using rubbers cuz he didn’t want one now or in 9 months. I can see him not wanting one now, but I thought he doesn’t usually get in the habit of trying to predict what he’d want in 9 months from now. So do I not avoid fate and the possibility of getting pregnant? Or do we rubber it up? I don’t know why Tom would or would not want a kid, but here are the pros and cons I came up with after thinking about it:

Cons:

Fear of miscarriage and the pregnancy killing me.

Fear of the pain and dying in labor or delivery.

Fear of losing Tom cuz I’d be a bitch carrying it and fear of losing him during having it and after cuz of the stress of it, lack of sleep and me being so fat.

Fear of the kid coming in between us and making us fight more.

Fear of us not having any time together.

Fear of postpartum blues and being a sexual turn-off.

Fear of lack of sleep.

Fear of losing our lives and not being able to afford it.

I don’t know anything about raising or caring for kids.

Pros:

A life and a responsibility to take care of and teach and watch grow with Tom and when I’m home alone bored.

Despite the fears I’d have, the curiosity of having a life growing inside me and having it.

A great learning experience for me.

The sense of knowing there’s someone I can take care of, instead of someone always taking care of me.

Instead of listening to and doing for other people’s kids, I could listen to and do stuff for my own.

Playing with it and learning different things as far as caring for it step by step with each year and its different ages.

Hoping and praying that I’d be the best mom I could be and breaking people’s beliefs that I’d be just like my mom (though I don’t worry what others think that much).

A human thing created with the one I love, rather than an object that’s ours like the computer or the TV.

Being there for it when it’s sick, sad, or makes a major accomplishment in life, be it personal or something it’s learned.

That concludes that one, but I still feel I’m sterile only cuz it’s hard to believe otherwise. It’s like with me being in Arizona. I never ever believed that could happen and it still blows my mind.

Company…

This is the least confusing one. We’ve recently done our share of talking about this, but there are still a few more baffling things about it.

First of all, here’s the #1 important thing I can say for both of us. I know Tom would never play daddy and tell me I can’t go somewhere, or do something or see someone. I love him for that. My thing is that I’d never leave without at least a day’s notice or several hours or if there was something going on where my attention was demanded here at home. The only time I’d suddenly leave would be if Tom was asleep or working and I know I could be back in time for him to be around (or very close enough). Or for example, if Andy or Larry called while Tom was sitting right there and they asked if I wanted to go somewhere and Tom said, “Sure. No problem. There’s nothing going on right now that can’t wait or immediately needs your attention.”

Tom’s made it sound like I’ve had lots of company since we’ve been married, but I counted since we’ve been together. Before there was that piece of paper, there was us, and we’ve been together for about a year. Here’s how I see my visitor track record. I won’t count Andy cuz he’s local and there’s never been a problem with Andy that I’ve known of. He’s never taken our time or taken me away from something important.

Kim, Phil and Alex were here for 3 days and Larry was here twice. Out of 1 year, I’ve been around here at the house 98% of the time as far as I see it. I asked Tom if he was jealous and he said no. Now, I’m sure Tom would come out and say it if he was, but I still get the feeling that he might be cuz of certain comments he makes, like, “Nobody takes me places.” Here’s an example. I’ll make up to further explain why I thought he was jealous. Let’s make pretend Andy’s here and he’s at work and he knows Andy’s here. Tom feels left out and then in a way takes that “left out” feeling out on me. Well, I hope he knows that there are times when I and everyone feels left out, but that doesn’t stop him from being my #1. Of course, my first choice is to go places with him, but I think everyone should have a right to their friends and family occasionally too, and I think he knows how I feel about that. He sees his family way more than I do and they all live here, for the most part, so I think he understands how I feel.

There were two other shocking things he said, that in my mind are far from true. He said I’ve got lots of friends and this whole other life that he’s not a part of. No way. I’ve got only Andy as a friend and I have no life at all other than my hobbies and chores here at home. There have been countless times when I’ve been home alone bored, wishing Tom were here, wanting to talk, wanting sex, wanting us to be in business, wanting to be a singer, wanting a kid, etc. He’s more a part of my life than anyone’s ever been. Even more so than Andy.

The other thing was that he said he was afraid he couldn’t count on me to help with the business if Kim stopped in, for example. You’re talking once every year or two, though, for 1-3 days. People put their regular life on hold much more frequently than that without falling too far behind in housework, their loved ones, etc. My parents have lots of company and don’t always travel together and they’re happy, so it can be worked out. Also, my brother, I guess I’ll only see 1-3 times a year.

I will use my best judgment possible when it comes to someone wanting to come here or take me somewhere, but all I can say is that I’d never put them over Tom. It’s just like when Tom goes away to work for 12 hours for 4 days out of the week. I still know that that doesn’t mean he puts his job over me.

To conclude all I’ve written, well, I know the easiest thing to do would be to never have sex, never have a kid, and never have company. Do I really want to do that, though? No. I believe in “no pain, no gain.” I’d really like to take the cons that go with the pros of all 3 of these things and try to get rid of all the cons I could in the meantime about each one. I don’t want to keep being a procrastinator or chickening out, despite how easy that is to do.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 20, 1994 Today I begin Phase 2.

I got up late today, and as of now, Andy should be in Springfield. The poor guy must be exhausted after flying and riding in a car for a total of 9 hours.

I taped his shows today and I’ll be doing that all next week, as well as Monday the 29th. When I went to check to see that his shows weren’t cut short at the end or the beginning, which they weren’t, boy did I get a hell of a view for the first second of the tape! Like I said, he’s renting a camcorder. Last night he told me he filmed himself beating off so he could see what it looked like from someone else’s point of view. Then he said he erased it but I’ve learned a lot lately about videotaping. For example, if I taped a movie, rewound it back to the beginning, taped another movie over it, you’d no doubt see a second or two of what was originally on the tape. He’s still going to film in here when he returns, by the way.

I’m going to go watch TV, then I’ve got some other stuff to write about.

Later…

I watched Tales from the Crypt and I’m now ready to write more. Tom and I are going to work on the sides of Piggy’s cage tomorrow so that the sawdust can’t keep getting out. Actually, we may work on it later on this morning.

I began to copy some of the pictures of animals and cartoon characters he downloaded. I’ve done about 7 of them so far and so far my luck’s been good. They’re coming out nicely.

My mother called a few hours ago to tell me that yes, she would like me to tape the Barbara Streisand concert that’s to be on HBO for two hours this Sunday. I had mentioned it to them before and asked if they wanted it, but she didn’t. Guess she changed her mind.

She also said that she had just got done writing a letter to me. Oh my God! With it being a once-in-a-lifetime thing for her, I figured I’d never get a letter from either of them until next year. That’s cool, though, and I look forward to it.

I typed letters to Kim and Brian and speaking of changing minds, well, Kim’s in for a hell of a surprise, but let me go have a cig first.

Later…

I had my smoke and did a few more drawings.

As you know, I decided to keep all of Bob’s letters in a notebook. Well, I’m filling up the rest of #35 and was so bored when I began copying what I’ve got. I figured - why keep so many copied letters? So, today I mailed out a manila envelope stuffed with letters. Kim will be really busy with that. Because she’s never home, it’ll probably take her months to go through them all.

So, what shall I do now? I think I’ll go do some editing. I definitely need some coffee first to go with the event. Editing’s so boring for the most part.

Later…

I just did a little editing and had some coffee. Now I’m going to go look back and see if I can find the date of when I had my last asthma attack, so I can be psyched when it’s been 1 whole year!

Later…

I found the date of my last attack where I had to call 911. It was November 16th. I’ve gotta make it to the 1-year marker. Please, God, let me?!

Later…

I wish Tom would get up now. I’m bored and although there’s stuff I could do, I really don’t feel up to doing it now. Maybe I’ll go draw some more. Sure, why not?

I’ve now got about 15 drawings done. Some look really good and others are just so-so. Now I’m a bit drained, so I’m going to lie down till Tom gets up.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 19, 1994 Boy, did I sleep late. I was up for a very long time too. I fell asleep at almost 9 AM and slept 10 solid hours until 7 PM. Guess I was exhausted cuz I very seldom ever sleep that long.

Tom and I chatted and fooled around. He also downloaded some pictures which I’m going to try to copy for kids’ computer coloring books.

Got my new SS card today as well as my license. This picture looks a bit better.

I sure got mail from Bob today. Like 12 pages’ worth. I also got a 2-page letter from Brian. Last night I copied some into #35. I’ll probably do more later.

Tom got a 1-month sample time/day planner in the mail today for the month of September. The thing a busy executive would use. It’s pretty neat, though, and we may get it for a whole year.

Tom went to bed at 10:00, then an hour later Andy came over. He brought chocolate-covered nuts from Joan and 7 tapes for me to tape his soaps. He leaves tomorrow at 2:30.

I’m doing laundry and hanging stuff out on the line. It’s fun and I don’t mind. Plus it saves us a little bit of money by not using the dryer. It’s just something else to do.

I did my workout with the 3 weights.

I’m psyched for Phase 2 on Saturday.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 18, 1994 I did a little editing. On one of my completed convo tapes, I have a convo with me and Nervous and another with me, Nerv and Fran. Both are so incredibly boring. Nervous is no fun in these convos cuz he was unusually calm and friendly, so right now I’m erasing them. I just run it through on play and record. This way it’s less confusing if I erase something I don’t want.

I just took my meds and boy do I like these time-release capsules better. They seem to work better. My stomach feels better being able to take these with food.

I think I’ll go decorate more envelopes in which Bob’s letters will be mailed.

Later…

I decorated one more envelope with my colored pencils.

I’m also erasing a portion of the other side of the tape. I’ll end up erasing one whole side, plus half of the other side.

I just had an idea. Well, every now and then I get in the mood to write but don’t really have much to write about. Journal #35 is only half full, so maybe I’ll go copy in there some letters I haven’t copied. I was using it for phone numbers, but there’s still plenty of room in #53 for phone numbers.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 17, 1994 Yesterday was Tammy’s 37th b-day. I spoke with her and she was telling me about some of the things she got.

Today I went for a doctor’s appointment and I got 11 refills on my meds! That’s a year’s supply. They gave me the Theodur in capsule form, rather than in tablets and the good news about it is that I can eat with it.

On 9/7 I’ll be going to an ear specialist to ask questions about my ear.

Not too much else is going on. I’m recording a movie for Tom right now and now I think I’ll go listen to tunes, then make a pot of tea.

Later…

I did my workout routine and in a little while from now, I’ll take a bath. I could use some freshening up.

I was just listening to some edits while I colored up a few more pages in here. Perhaps I’ll do more editing later. It has been a while and I have some ideas to try out.

Tom mentioned something about getting up early to do laundry as well as computer work. Maybe I’ll be up when he gets up. If I am, I hope he’s in the mood for fun. We haven’t had any in nearly two weeks cuz we’ve both been so busy.

Andy left a message earlier about coming over today to hang out by the pool. I called back to let him know that sounds good, but I may sleep late tomorrow. I’ll call him when I get up. He’s now officially on his vacation.

Well, that’s all for now. Now I’m going to go finish my tea and take a bath. I’ll write more later.

Later…

I decided not to take a bath right now. I just stopped the VCR from recording and now I’m not sure what I’ll do.

Tammy had said something about mailing off a letter Lisa wrote to me. I hope I get that tomorrow as well as letters from Bob and Kim.

When the fuck is our wedding pictures going to get here? If they don’t come this week, I’m calling Vegas to give them a piece of my mind.

Later…

I just did two drawings. Both were women. One’s OK, but the other’s a nightmare. Now, I’m finally going to do some editing.

Tom will be home any time now, but in the meantime, I thought I’d write. I got up at 1 PM today. Andy and I talked earlier. He’s rented a camcorder and may come over later after Tom’s gone to bed to film. I’d really like to film the house and my wall drawings to send to Tammy and my parents.

Earlier I also did some typing on #51.

I took a much-needed shower, brushed out and straightened my hair.

I don’t really have anything else to say right now. Just that I’m bored out of my mind. I hope Tom will be in the mood to play around when he gets home, but we’ll see. He’s probably going to be too tired.

I made up some fried shrimp a while ago. It was so good, but I’m still hungry, so I’ll go make up something else.

Later…

I thought Andy said he was coming over tonight, but he meant tomorrow night. Friday he takes off.

Tom’s going to call in sick from work tomorrow so he can do more work on the cooler and also do some computer programming.

This Saturday I begin Phase 2 of the Phase-Out program. I will have two holes punched into the filter.

Tomorrow I add the third weight to the leg and bun firmer as part of my workout program. I’m disappointed to have to say that when I was at the doctor’s office I was weighed at 104. I took my measurements a little while ago and here’s what they are: thighs 20½, hips 33½, waist 25¾. That sucks and I’d really like to reduce these measurements by 2-3 inches.

I tried Tom’s weekly experiment earlier. He bought instant coffee with a box of different flavors you add to the coffee. You don’t need to put milk or sugar in it. Well, I didn’t anyway. It was a little bitter and not what I’m used to. There was French Vanilla, Mocha Almond, Irish Crème, and Amaretto. The last two taste like cough syrup, but I’ll check them out. In the meantime, Tom won’t be buying it again. I remember during 1986-1988 when I used to see Nervous almost every day, the two of us were really into cinnamon coffee, but it was brewed. Not instant.

Well, I think I’ll go do other things for now and probably return later to write more.

MONDAY, AUGUST 15, 1994 Tom just got up, and believe it or not, I was playing a little guitar. I’m getting really tired, though, so I expect to go to sleep soon.

Later…

Got up at 1:30 today. I quickly spoke to Tammy. I sent her a message on Prodigy and I also wrote up the last 7 postcards (3-D) to my parents, Bob, Kim, Tammy & Bill, Lisa, Becky and Sarah.

Tom came home early from work beat and has gone to bed. Now I need to go pee and I may go for another swim.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 14, 1994 Tomorrow’s workout day. I do it every other day and I’m up to 2 weights out of the 4 on the thighs. I’ll be at 3 in a few days.

On the 20th, it’ll be time for Phase 2. That means 2 tiny holes in the filter for 2 weeks.

Last night I was playing around with the 3-D postcards. It blurred into a multi-level, but I still couldn’t see the hidden image.

I took my colored pencils and decorated Bob’s envelopes with different colors. Last night I colored the outsides of my next book. Instead of gold-trimmed pages on a few of my journals, I now have one with lots of colors. My next journal has no lines in it and I may use calligraphy pens from time to time.

I tried sleeping a while ago but had no luck.

I asked Larry again, and he did say that Ma wanted to ride with him. Probably just her, though, as Dad will stay behind with the dogs. Really? They know a million people. Can’t they find someone to dog-sit for them?

I’m really bummed that Tom couldn’t meet Larry and Jenny. I sure hope they can meet the next time. However, the next time around, the kids could be in school and Larry could maybe be by himself.

Well, now it is time for a very big jump. We’re going all the way to journal 76 now!

Later…

Got up at 10:30 today. I told Tom all about seeing Larry and Jenny. He’s now taking a nap.

Other than that, there’s not much else to tell. I was just watching some TV and now I’m kind of bored. Guess I’ll go do some computer work now.

Later…

Tom just got up a little while ago and I just got out of the tub. It rained here today and rain always makes me feel yucky. I’m now finally starting to wake up now that the sun has set and I took a bath to freshen up.

I recorded a movie earlier and in about 15 minutes I’m going to record another.

What else can I say? Well, I’m in the mood to write, but I just can’t think of anything to write about.

Later…

Tom just ran out to get smokes and right now I’m kind of frustrated. I slept till 11:30 today and I really wanted to get up at 8 AM every day. I’ll just have to make myself, even if it means 4 hours of sleep for a while. Not much else is going on at this point. I think I’ll just watch TV for a while. Later on, I may do some more writing.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 13, 1994 We got a killer electric bill today of $425. Ugh! I told Tom to just switch over to the EC and that I’ll just have to get used to it and keep adjusting to this climate as I’m going to live here for the rest of my life.

I got up today at 11:30 and so far all I’ve done is take a shower and type Kim a letter.

My brother still hasn’t called yet, so his visit here is still up in the air. I’ll put my face on soon, anyhow.

Tom’s working on getting the other EC in. Although they say it’s only 100º, it’s 37% humid, so it feels like 110º. It’s deathly hot and humid in the house, so I’m really looking forward to the other EC being installed.

I just put the fan full blast by the foot of the bed. Now I feel much better.

Tom’s taking a shower right now, then I’ll go put my face on.

Later…

I’m kind of bored right now, just passing time and seeing if Larry calls.

Tom’s out of the shower and he’s now watching TV. When he’s indoors, he’s pretty much either at the TV or the computer.

The humidity in here just knocked down my journal chart. That’s OK, though, cuz after I finish this book I’ll have to update it.

Tom’s not in the greatest mood right now cuz he’s very overworked and we may have company. Tom’s not really any more into company than I am.

Sometime tomorrow I’ll type a letter to my parents. What shall I do right now? Oh, I don’t know. Just be bored and lazy, I guess.

Later…

I wish my brother would hurry the fuck up and call if he’s coming. I hate waiting. I feel like I’m in a doctor’s office.

Later…

I guess my brother isn’t coming, so I’m going to go for a swim.

Later…

I went for that swim I needed. Yup, I did and now I feel much better. More so cuz we switched back to the AC. The EC makes it too damn humid in August. It felt like someone took a wet sheet, heated it up to 200º, then wrapped it around me. This is the very type of weather, climate, and feeling I wanted to escape from.

Still no call from Larry, so who knows where the hell they are?

I started a shopping list and tomorrow Tom’s going to shoot on over to the grocery store after work. He’ll be going in at 5 AM for 5-6 hours.

Later…

Tom went to bed a short while ago.

It feels so much better in here now that the AC is back on.

I think I’ll go type up a letter to my parents now.

Later…

Guess who was here an hour ago? Yup, Larry and Jenny. I really stressed it upon him to call first and I’m bummed Tom couldn’t meet them. He said they were scouting the area when he recognized and remembered the way. They were only here for a little while, but it was so good to see them. Jenny’s only 2” shorter than me and boy is her hair long! It’s down to her lower butt. She looks a lot like Sandy. She’s skinny, but her face is very plain. Larry’s hair is now as long as Tom’s and he had it in a ponytail.

Tom and I may go to see his parents tomorrow.

I typed a 3-page letter to my parents. I had just finished printing it out when they came, so I quickly added on the back of their letter that they had just come.

I asked Larry if he still wanted Tom to write down directions and he said he’d remember. They’re now heading for Arkansas, then to Mom and Dad’s. I’ll eventually get to see Sandy and Larry.

Later…

I’m wide awake and probably will be for a while.

I forgot to check Prodigy for any mail I might have gotten. I’ll do that now, then I’ll go watch some TV.

I hope Lisa got her tapes by now and enjoys them.

I forgot to mention that in Larry’s truck were many boxes of whipped cream. Guess that’s just what he was delivering. They also had a very very small dog with them. It was so cute and I very fearlessly picked her up. Brandy’s her name. That seems to be a popular name for animals.

Later…

I just watched a little TV and went for another swim.

I haven’t checked Prodigy yet cuz I’m getting kind of tired, believe it or not. I know, though, that I’ll be up for several more hours.

A little while ago I had a sneezing fit. Tom said he thinks I may need antibiotics. I agree. I know what I need right now. A nice hot steaming cup of coffee. I haven’t had any at all today.

Later…

This visit went so much better, not that the first one with Larry alone was bad, but everyone was so relaxed. I can now really see what I’ve always figured. I’m his favorite sister. That makes me feel good, but sad for Tammy. If my brother was given two choices, one being to be paid to see Tammy, the other paying to see me, he’d pay to see me.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 12, 1994 Got two letters from Kim today and I also spoke to my parents. It’s their 43rd anniversary. I told them their present would soon be on its way. The figurines are done now. All I have to do is pack and ship them and pray they arrive there in one piece.

Larry called today. He was in Phoenix, but couldn’t find his way here. Jenny was with him. He said if they found their way here, I could’ve gone with them to CA and returned home tomorrow. Sounds cool but I wouldn’t want to just suddenly desert Tom. They’re going to try to stop by tomorrow in the late afternoon. That’d be even better, so Tom could meet them, too. I talked to Jenny for a few minutes, too. Larry said he may bring Mom out and that she wants to ride with him. When? I don’t know.

I finished my project in #71.

Later…

I’m still up, but not for long. I went for a swim a little while ago.

I got a 3½-page letter ready to go out to Bob on Monday. Over the weekend, I’ll type letters to Kim and my folks. I did a little typing on #51.

Spoke with Andy who’s psyched at the thought of having only 6 more days till he goes home. He had planned on stopping to see Tammy, but now he’s not sure if he’ll have the time to do so.

He really liked the 3-D postcard I sent him and he wants to get some, too. My dad said he’s still trying to figure his out.

I’ve got some color now, but I really wish I had the color that Tom and Andy have.

You know what I should do right now? While I’m still waiting to get even more tired than I am, I should write as many names as I can think of in case I ever do end up doing an autobiography. I still doubt I ever will, but I’ll try to go beyond those 48 names a few pages back. Even if I barely knew them, knew them long, or if they’re jerks, good people or both. I remember some people’s names and what they looked like but there are also so many people’s faces I see, but I can only remember their first or last names only.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 11, 1994 Well, today’s Nervous’s birthday. Andy asked if I was going to call him. What’s the point? Crystal will just hog the phone and not let us talk. With Crystal and the distance between us, it’ll never be like old times. He’s a closed chapter now.

Tomorrow’s my parent’s anniversary, so I’ll call there tomorrow. I finished their figurines as well as Tammy’s.

Tomorrow’s also asshole Fran’s birthday. I still can’t believe he hasn’t called, but tomorrow he may try thinking I’ll be all sweet and friendly to him just cuz it’s his b-day. He’ll have thought wrong, though, cuz I’ll hang up on him.

I called SS and someone was supposed to call me back, but never did. What else is new with them?

Tonight I’m recording 6 hours’ worth of TV for times I get bored or lazy.

Today Andy was over. We were out by the pool where I got more color.

I got no mail today, but we mailed out more of those 3-D postcards. I began two pages of Bob’s letter and by Monday I’ll finish that as well as do one for Kim and my parents. I’ll be back to write more later.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 10, 1994 Just thought I’d take a break from the project I’ve been working on to get up to date on some of the things that have been going on. First of all, the major project I’m working on is in #71. I’ve randomly picked 48 people that I’m writing 2 pages about. Of course, I couldn’t pick everyone, so I just chose the first 48 people I could think of. Some of them are negative, positive, or both. Some I knew briefly, some all my life. Some are family, friends and acquaintances, lovers and enemies.

BOL #11 is done and from now on, all letters will go in a 3-ring binder or a manila envelope. I have a grand total of 293 letters! With the ones I haven’t copied, I know I’m just over the 300-mark! Wow! That’s a lot of letters.

Anyway, it’s a real sauna outside and very quiet. Tom said he thinks they took off next door a couple of days ago. He said the kids were all in the van and they were putting in boxes. Yeah, I think they did take off somewhere. Cool.

Yesterday I went to get a new license with my new name. They took another picture and I hope this one came out better.

We went to SS for a new SS card in the new name. He had to get a new one too, cuz he lost his a while ago.

Speaking of SS I called them today to find out what the hell’s going on. Am I on it or off it? She said I’m listed as on it, but I’ve got to call back tomorrow to talk to someone else. Like Tom said, if someone wants to give me money, I’ll take it.

Later…

I just did some laundry, so now I can write some more. Yesterday we ordered these colorful splash labels that say Tom & Jodi Lin S. Also a Post-it pad of paper. That says, Tom & Mystery.

We picked up two of the same kinds of figurines of a cactus with a narrow flowerpot behind it. One’s for Tammy for her birthday and the other is for my parents for their anniversary. I ran out of paints, though, so it’s delayed. I sent them cards saying that their gifts would be late. Tammy, who I talked to today, asked if I sent them anything and said she just sent a card. I gave her one hint about her gift and theirs. I said “paint” and she asked why she’d need paint. She asked if it was a picture. I said no, then quickly changed the subject. She’s no doubt going nuts trying to figure out what the hell it is.

I thought of a neat way to test my parent’s reaction if I ever was pregnant. Next April I’ll tell them I am as an April’s fool joke. If they flip, then I won’t ever talk to them if I ever do get pregnant for real. What if I were before April? Well, I’d really like Tom to be the one to tell them, but since he may not want to, I’m sure Tammy will.

Tammy asked how come Tom never calls her, but maybe we’ll surprise her one of these days. I told Tammy it works both ways. Bill’s never called me and he’s always welcomed to. Then again, I really don’t care for the guy.

Later…

My project’s 2/3 of the way done. Tom said he thought it was an excellent idea and that if he were teaching a writing class he’d tell his class to choose 20 people and write 2 pages about each one. That’s cool. I thought he’d think it rather strange if anything at all.

He may be a half-hour late this week as he’s stopping to feed his sister’s dog. She and Dave are in CA. He’ll also be leaving a half hour early before work to go feed the dog and let it out. I’m just kind of waiting for him now.

I guess I’m all up to date with everything. Gotta go get my jeans and Vegas tie-dye shirt off the line.

Later…

OK, I got my stuff off the line. The animals next door are there. I could hear them, but very faintly.

I am wondering if having my own child would impact the way next door annoys me. I believe the reason for this is that if you constantly hear your own children, it becomes difficult to distinguish them from others. Additionally, most people prefer the sounds of their own children over those of someone else’s.

Later…

I just heard the phone ring, but I figured it was just Andy calling to say hi, so I didn’t answer. It was a message from Tom, though. He’s at Mary’s and he’s going to be home between 7:30-7:45. I’ll have dinner ready for him either way. I made up cheese noodles with bacon bits and I’ll also make him two hot dogs.

I got a letter from Bob today and this time around he did something new. He addressed it to both of us.

I did my workout today and now I’ve got 2 weights in the thigh holder. In 2 weeks, I’ll be up to 4, the total amount.

I’m still on Phase 1 out of 4 until the 20th.

I did dishes, watered my plant outside, and that’s pretty much it.

Earlier today I had a sneezing fit for the first time in ages, but it was nothing compared to what I used to go through back East. Then, after that, I had the runs. I’m fine now, though. Last night Tom showed me a very easy way to print pictures and I did several. Today I was going to do some more, but I couldn’t get it started. Oh well.

Later…

Tom’s home now eating his dinner and when he’s done we’re going to chat for a while. I’m kind of horny and hoping for fun, but if he’s too tired I’ll understand.

MONDAY, AUGUST 8, 1994 Last night I’m sure the whole city of Phoenix was woken up by the massive thunderstorm we had. It woke Tom and I up sometime at 2 AM. It was really booming out there. I wished it was going on, though, when I was awake to see it. I like how I’m sure it woke them up next door.

Andy was probably pissed at being woken up and not up able to see it and enjoy it. He loves storms.

Well, I have 4 pieces of mail going out. A letter to Kim, a letter to Bob, Tammy’s b-day card, and my parent’s anniversary card.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 7, 1994 I have a million things to write about, but I’ve just been extremely busy to do so. Andy was over last Thursday and Friday. We hung out back by the pool, got some color and typed letters.

Yesterday I got a long 5-page letter from Bob. Also, my Phase-Out system came! I’m really psyched about it, too. It��s an 8-week program. Every 2 weeks you punch in 2 perforations into the filter with little tiny sharp needles.

Last Friday I taped The Guardian in SP. Luckily it came out just fine, but Andy kindly taped it as a backup.

It’s been peacefully quiet around here and Tom and I swam this weekend.

He and I are doing great and yesterday we had some serious fun sexually. It has become so easy for him to get in me and I’ve really loosened up. Today we didn’t have time for fun, but tomorrow we’ll make the time.

Yesterday, besides hot sex, we went out shopping. He got a computer book and some other stuff. I got 3 new journals, this pen I’m writing with, and also a purple one.

Also, 3-D postcards. When you look at them they’re all different kinds of pretty colors and patterns till you see the hidden image. It’s like stereo for your eyes. Tom’s mastered the technique, but so far I’ve only been able to see one postcard, plus a moving one he downloaded on the computer. There were 30 postcards. We’re sending 1 to David & Evie and I’m using the rest cuz he couldn’t think of anyone else to send them to. I’m sending 1 to Andy, 4 to my parents, 4 to Tammy & Bill, 4 to Lisa, 4 to Becky, 4 to Sarah, 4 to Kim and 4 to Bob. I put the postcard stubs and stuck a few at the back of this book. Mostly I put them in numbers 4 & 14.

Well, I’m totally beat now, so if I’ve forgotten anything I’ll write it in tomorrow.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 6, 1994 OK, now I finally have about an hour to write.

I just remembered that today’s that asshole Rosemarie’s birthday. I think she’s 30.

Gotta do my 1-2-3 workout today. The exercises are 20 minutes and the warm-up and cool-down take 10 minutes, so that’s 30 minutes total. I love the back and tummy supporter as well as the wrist weights. They’re great for when I’m sitting up typing.

I called my sister that day to tell her all about it, then got to talking with Lisa. She sang part of Get on Your Feet by Gloria and oh my God! That kid can really sing. She’s going to be great when she gets older. She already has vibrato. I didn’t get that till I was 22 and she’s only 11. Tammy says if that’s what she wants to do, she’ll support it. Thank God she’s not as negative as she used to be or is like Mom who was very discouraging. So, anyway, Lisa went on to tell me she wanted Gloria’s Spanish tape but had no money, so I made 3 tapes of Gloria’s best stuff.

I made 1 Spanish tape and 2 in English and I even put the voice exercises on that Bill made.

Now I’m going to go listen to music, but I’ll continue on later.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 4, 1994 I certainly have news to write about, but I’m so very tired now that I may not get into too much detail.

Yesterday my Tone-up 1-2-3 finally came and I love it! It’s the best method I’ve ever done. Clean-cut and simple. You do it 30 minutes every other day. I’ll expand more on it tomorrow.

I also talked to my parents. Ma asked if the shirt fits Tom, did he like the baseball, does he like sports, what kind of car does he have, what year is it, and do I drive it?

I talked to Dad, too.

I’ll write about Lisa and the tapes I’m sending her some other time.

Andy was here today and we were out back. I got some color and he may be over tomorrow, too.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 3, 1994 Got a letter from Bob yesterday as well as a wedding card and a letter from Alex.

I typed Alex a letter, but I won’t send Kim and Bob’s letter until Monday. I figured I’d send Kim and Bob letters every Monday and every other Monday I’ll send letters to my parents. I’ll send messages to Tammy whenever I’ve got something to say.

Our US West bill came yesterday. Amazingly enough, there were no calls billed from Fran. We’ll have to see how the next bill is and check the Sprint bill when it comes.

Fran also hasn’t called. What luck, huh? I really didn’t think he’d go down so easily. He’s not easy to shake off.

Yesterday we went down to a Social Security office. We didn’t have enough documents for proof, so we took forms with us. However, we can’t mail photocopies of documents, so we’ll go there again next Tuesday.

This Saturday I’ll probably get more journals.

Later…

Now I’m sitting at my blue card table, instead of laying on the bed.

I brought the old lamp I made in middle school in a woodshop in here and it’s now on the table. I just got up to wash the lampshade cuz it was filthy. I wish the lampshade weren’t so dark. I’d like to get a white one. The lampshade’s now drying out by the fan so I don’t end up getting zapped.

Tom will be getting up real soon. He has to work the next 3 days.

There was a surprise from him when I woke up. A huge poster of a still shot from our wedding video. It’s really cool. Sort of grainy, but if you stand a little further away, it looks so cool.

Yesterday we began our first task as far as shaping up the back room goes. We picked out tools that I may need, especially cuz he’ll have tools he uses in the back little room and the garage. He put up a pegboard on the door where the hot water tank and the washer are. It’s in this little square area between the garage and kitchen doorway. The other kitchen doorways are off the living room and off the back room, but that one’s more like an archway. I believe there were once sliding glass doors there before the back room was added on. Anyway, on the pegboard, we put screwdrivers (regular and Philips), a hammer, a pair of pliers, a broom, and a duster. I hung the mop up on a holder that was already there.

It’s 6:02 now and I think I hear his alarm. If he doesn’t come out by 6:05, I’ll go make sure he’s up.

Thanks to a commercial on TV, I learned something new. I have feminine powder, and I’d sit back on the toilet and try to stick some down there but when I’d sit up it’d go all over. Well, this time around I put it in my underwear. The tip came just in time as I got my period and it really helps keep me dryer.

Tom’s up so I’ll see ya!

Later…

Tom showed me changes he made with the picture printing program and now he’s eating hot dogs and watching the news.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 2, 1994 Boy, was I busy yesterday. I busted my ass cleaning the bathroom, scrubbing the kitchen floor and doing laundry. I washed the little rugs in the kitchen and bathroom and the curtains seem like they shrunk, though. Before I washed the curtains, I touched up the soundproofing stuff in the windows. There are tons of gaps in them, so I shoved in cotton balls and the last of the silver foil labels. Lots of the labels had fallen when I woke up. Instead of all the work wearing me out, it pumped my adrenaline, so I ended up being up for 20 hours when I finally knocked off at around 4 PM. I got up shortly after midnight. I’m still a bit tired.

Later…

Larry called yesterday. He started off by saying he was down the street and wanted to come over. I thought, holy shit! I’ve been up so long and look like hell. He was only kidding, though, and was at Mom and Dad’s in Florida. He said his plans are all fouled up, but he still hopes to get out here this summer. I told him all about my unpredictable schedule and why I understood that oh so well. He said Larry’s done riding with him for the summer cuz he has to go to school early cuz of Band or something like that.

Jenny just got back from camp, so she’ll go on the road with him. I hope to meet up with all of them eventually, but right now Larry’s done traveling alone.

I finally remembered to ask his age which I figured was between 38-40, but like most of us in the family, he looks younger. He was teasing me by saying I look 14. He saw our wedding video, and I thought, oh no! He said it was very good and I didn’t look fat.

He’s still looking forward to meeting Tom and when I said how blessed I was, cuz most guys are jerks, he jokingly goes, “I’m a slut.”

I don’t think that was a joke, though, at one time and I said I probably would have been too if I were a guy.

He also mentioned my possibly going with him on his rig maybe to CA for a few days. In the meantime, he doesn’t know when he’s coming, but I told him what Tom’s days off were.

MONDAY, AUGUST 1, 1994 Tom got up an hour ago. He slept for 12 hours. Lucky him. I wish I’d done that, too.

I was just playing with Piggy while he was working on his computer program.

I just did another huge round of journal housekeeping. I took out address labels that were in the wrong books. I wish I didn’t stick the stickers I just stuck in this book (4 of them). Why? Cuz I have so much doodling on the front and back covers of so many journals, especially in the beginning that it’d be nice to cover it. Well, I’ll be getting these TV dinners regularly, so little by little I’ll cover them.

Tom just came in and closed the air duct in my closet, so no spiders can come down.

Later…

Yesterday I didn’t do too much. I watched the women’s gymnastics and a movie I taped when I got up.

Tomorrow we’re going to go get my name changed with SS and also discuss the letter SSI sent. I still need to call the Registry of Motor Vehicles too.

[prettymmorg]

J cole forest hills drive live vinyl lp rerelease

#J cole forest hills drive live vinyl lp rerelease how to#

I began talking to myself, out loud, making sure it was clear and not slurred or babbling voicings.

#J cole forest hills drive live vinyl lp rerelease how to#

With a family history of heart problems, I was aware of the signs, and how to deal with an onset if one still had the ability to control functions as it begins. As I was processing this as a possible problem, I became aware that the entire right side of my body – from neck to feet – felt like it was asleep not paralyzed but buzzing and as if something was trying to grasp my entire right side with frail but gripping fingertips. This time, it stayed blocked, completely. But, they began dissipating almost as soon as they appeared, and never lasted more than a minute or so at the most. Now, I had been having little bouts of impaired vision, where these obscuring fields of gray blocked parts of my field of view in either eye sometimes the top half, sometimes the bottom half, sometimes the sides, sometimes was like a tunnel and sometimes right in the center of my vision. While shopping in an Indianapolis Wal-Mart in mid-August, I suddenly went totally blind in my left eye. That word is stenosis from an Ancient Greek word that means “narrowing.” However, like being in a late-onset Sesame Street episode, I was destined to learn a new word, a medical word that was applicable not just once oh no, it was applied to my condition twice, but with different body parts in play with the use of the word. Oh, this little distraction sorta clouded my larger issue for absence. Other than that, not a scratch, dent or wobble in the wheels or fork, all controls untouched and safe to operate. 2014 Forest Hills Drive comes off as a great, experimental, and advancing mixtape, but it's insider to a fault, as slight as that fault might be.My darling Della, who valiantly tried to stay upright after I was forced into the median curb by a car, only suffered a broken rear turn signal lens and a scuffed derby cover on the transfer case. Later, "No Role Modelz" mixes a tribute to the late actor James Avery ("Rest in peace Uncle Phil"), with a bubbling beat that's a variation on cloud-rap (co-produced by Phonix Beats and Cole), and a snarky, snappy set of put downs that are like an elevated Fergie ("I don't want no bitch from reality shows/Out of touch with reality hos"), but all these flights of fancy fly freely since the album lacks an anchor. Cole the producer offering a beat that's rather Alchemist or 9th Wonder inspired, and then slathering it in plush strings for a perfect single on an album that refuses singles. Key cut "January 28th" puts gut-wrenching hard truths of the Pusha-T type ("What's the price for a black man's life?/I check the toe tag, not one zero in sight") next to wobbly wordplay that could have been lifted off some old Digable Planets LP ("Flow is bananas/Here, peel this back"), while "Wet Dreamz" finds J. Most importantly, it's admirable bordering on excellent, sure to inspire returning fans to herald it as a classic even if it doesn't woo the skeptical, casually wandering out of its intro with two smooth and soulful numbers that are so free, they're just shy of being clumsy. Cole's third studio effort was released with no supporting singles, and there are no featured artists, either, because 2014 Forest Hills Drive is one of those personal, conceptual, and "heavy" albums. Named after the address of his childhood home in North Carolina, J.

[whirlybirbs]

          (   this chapter’s gif by @august-walker​ from this beautiful set !   )

✪   —   VACANT MIRRORS  ;  B.B.  |  4/?

summary: you formulate a plan, meet steve rogers, and bucky goes on a date.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 6.8k, mother of pearl

a/n: this ended up being mostly a filler with a lot of romantic growth - i had to break this chapter up from the unce unce unce clubbing that coming up, so please enjoy! 

  (   PREVIOUSLY   |    AO3    |    MASTERLIST  |   NEXT  )

MOSCOW, 1975.

In all the years that James Buchanan Barnes has had a heartbeat, he’d come to know the sounds of grief well.

War taught him a lot of things — that they were all just little boys playing with guns, and that no matter how many times you thought you’d be ready for the vomit-inducing pungency of violence, you never were. In the end, you’d do anything to save yourself; you’d crawl through the thick of death and debris a million times over if only to cling to the shredded tatters of your own humanity.

You would kill someone else’s son for the sake of your own mother.

War was disease that devoured every part of you — it was gunpowder snuff and carved flesh. That sickness — inky and desperate — had sunk deep into this heart during the war, and it crescendoed to the sounds of mothers clutching dead sons. The sounds that followed death were like a hollow opera. Waning and wailing.

In the raucous wake left by warborn grief, Bucky drowned everytime.

To the Winter Soldier, the operatic quality to the sounds of grief were as insignificant as a child’s rhyme.

He did not drown. No, he waded through the waves, comfortable in the cold and unphased by the stinging cut of loss. That was not something he could comprehend. After all, there were orders and there were targets, and everything in between was absolute.

He was the disease that devoured all.

He’s holding a gun to Andrei Kuznetzov’s head in a dining room with ornate trim — with silverware as delicate as scalpels that tinker against fine china. The carpets are red, the curtains are red, there’s blood on the table cloth. The guests continue to eat. Kuznetzov’s wife is screaming, red nails dug so deep into the dining chair’s arms it’s carving out the fabric. War dogs, like him, keep her rooted in her seat, and her tears find polished boots. She’s begging and bartering but the man with Kuznetzov’s life in his hands is not listening. He is eating his veal, bloodied meat dancing between his lips. He takes a sip of wine as his medal emblazoned chest glimmers in the light of crystalline chandaliers.

The spoils of war.

His smile is stained red.

There is no deal to be made.

The Winter Soldier pulls the trigger.

NOW.

His eyes are open.

Panic is the first emotion he feels, and it seizes him up quickly in its grasp. He doesn’t know this view, he doesn’t know where he is, not again, not again, not again —

Then:

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. Did you know you snore?”

The relief that the sound of your voice brings is immediate, and just like that he remembers. He’s laying on the bed. You’re sat up across from him at that small desk in the corner. He reaches as he rubs his face to thumb the edge of the pillowcase. He exhales tightly.

He’s fine. His name is James Buchanan Barnes. He is not longer the Winter Soldier. He’s in his Brooklyn apartment. He is fine.

When’s the last fucking time he’s slept in a bed?

He sits up, scratching his neck as he does. You lean back, half rotated in the desk. Before you is a mess of papers and his laptop — and on top of the keyboard sits his notebook. It’s open to the page where all he’d been able to figure out about Innessa was scrawled in his chicken scratch.

Bucky swings his legs over the edge of the bed and immediately his back complains.

“How long was I out?” he asks, voice hoarse with sleep. He moves to part the curtains. The room blooms with warm morning light.

You offer an apologetic smile into the vanilla sunshine. “Three hours. I wanted you to get some shut eye. You were starting to look a little overwhelmed last night—”

“You click too fast,” he waves, standing and immediately rolling his neck to the side. You watch as the man, before as peaceful as a sleeping pup, now regains his usual thinning veiled level of threat. Bucky is dangerous — it shows in the way he holds himself. He cracks his neck, rolls his shoulders, and groans. He exhales again, posture sagging a bit, “I couldn’t keep up.”

You’re standing now, socks padding against the hardwood as you eye his cowlick with a budding bloom of affection. With his notebook between your index and middle finger, you offer it out. You cling to your empty coffee cup in the other.

“I didn’t peek,” you say warmly, “Pinky promise.”

His laugh is more like a hot puff of air. Bucky manages a look that feels like an emotional dethaw.

“Thank you.”

You lead the way to the kitchen, stretching your own back as you go. You’d been up all night — this is your third trip out here for yet another cup of coffee. The pot has been on for too long, though, and you know the coffee sitting there is beyond bitter. You’re moving to dump it down the sink when Bucky grumbles.

“Don’t.”

“You want it?”

“No,” he mutters, reaching for a mug, “But I don’t want to waste it.”

“Wow,” you chirp, “The Great Depression just jumped out.”

“Yeah,” he snorts, yanking open the fridge to search for something to eat, “It does that.”

“Well, grandpa,” you hand him the steaming cup and set out to make another pot, “You’re also living on Depression Era rations — might I suggest some Dolly’s? Because I’m starving and I’ve been up all night and I think that means I get to decide where we get breakfast.”

Bucky’s look is soft — but you don’t see it. You’re too busy scooping sugar into your cup, too busy nudging him aside to grab the milk. He’s rooted there in the kitchen, watching you move about. You’re comfortable. There isn’t a trace of anxiousness in you, not in this moment, and he tries to remember what it looks like.

Your eyes find his and he clears his throat.

“Earth to Sergeant Barnes?”

“Don’t start,” he groans, albeit playfully, “It’s too early.”

“Oh, what? Too early for me to grill you on why you didn’t tell me that little laptop in there was on loan from the FBI? To one Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th?”

His face falls.

“Don’t worry,” you raise a hand quickly, leaning against the counter as you sip your coffee, “I figured that out before I did anything massively illegal.”

Bucky rubs his face as he takes a sip of his coffee — the bitterness is enough to slap him awake. He winces, swallows it back, and remembers the taste of instant coffee made in helmets on the line in Bastogne. He can smell snow, and the acrid sting of mortar smoke. Suddenly, he’s craving a cigarette.

That hasn’t happened in a while.

Bucky clears his throat. “Did you find anything?”

You frown slightly, lips pulled as you hide your inward disappointment — you push off from the counter and shake your head as you brush past him. Like a loyal dog, Bucky follows. Into the bedroom you go, and Bucky’s again surprised he managed to get any sleep at all in that bed. Maybe it was the comfort of having someone else there, or the genuine exhaustion that had finally choked him out after hours of trying to understand what the hell you were even doing on there.

You plop into the desk chair and snatch up a piece of paper littered with notes.

“I couldn’t do much of my usual snooping,” you explain gently as you gesture to the chromebook, “This thing might have been given to you in good faith, but they’re watching you pretty closely. So, I worked a little magic and ended up running a virtual machine. Gave me enough wiggle room to avoid the malware and keystroke trackers. Even still, I wanted to be careful, so I just did a little looking.”

“Looking?”

“I can’t dig deeper on Innessa, I know where to dig, but I can’t,” you frown, “Not on this laptop, and definitely not on my personal machines. I’ve got the GRC breathing down my neck, and the files I need to poke are very much off-limits.”

“So, what? We’re shit out of luck?”

“No, not entirely,” you stand up and motion to the paper in your hands; your tone is tight, “I know a few people who can help, but getting to them is going to be the hardest part.”

Bucky takes the paper, squinting at the writing as you settle on the edge of the bed next to him. You take a sip of your coffee and watch as his blue eyes dart across the notes; you point to the name scrawled across the top.

“There’s a club in lower Manhattan, but you’ve gotta know the right people to get in,” you mumble, scratching your cheek as a creeping sense of embarrassment bubbles up behind your words, “It’s in the basement of an old computer repair shop. It’s like a blackhat networking event, but with strippers.”

Bucky squints at the paper and reads the name. “The Glass Cannon?”

“Yeah,” you huff, crossing your arms tightly as you stand, “That’s the one.”

Bucky looks up from the paper, attention now rooted on the pacing you’ve begun to do across the room. Back and forth. You’re holding your coffee like a lifeline, gaze far away. That anxiousless way you’d been holding yourself before is gone. Now, he can see the tensing in your shoulders, in your fingers. You’re suddenly nervous.

Bucky stands. His voice is gentle.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” you snap almost immediately, “Just, y’know. Worried. I spent a lot of time there when I was younger. Did stupid shit. And now I’m about to waltz in after six years like I haven’t put that part of my life behind me.”

“We don’t have to do this,” he says immediately, moving to stand closer and halt your pacing. The invasion of your space forces you to look at him. His fingers glimmering in the morning light. You follow the line of his figure up to his eyes. The emotion there makes your heart clench. You can’t pin it down, and it’s gone in an instant.

“It’s the only way we’re going to find Innessa.”

“You don’t need to put yourself in situations like this for me,” he says, stressing the for me part in both expression and tone. The depreciation makes you wince and you’re fast to shake your head.

“That’s what friends do, Bucky,” you stand your ground, but you know there’s more to your reasoning than that, “Plus, she’s a bad guy. And I know you said I technically wasn’t the sidekick, but—”

“You’re not the sidekick—”

“I know,” you huff, nudging him gently with your arm, “But, I wanna help. Do some good.”

“You do enough good,” he mutters, “You’re a good person.”

Your words fail you at that — and your mouth parts but nothing comes out. Bucky watches with an expression as solid as rock as you blink and look away. His hand, the one of flesh and bone, finds your wrist as you tighten your grip on your mug.

The touch, though far too tender for you to handle, feels like fire.

Like a slap in the face, you’re reminded of how handsome Bucky is.

You slap that thought back, trading volleys, and remain quiet.

His tone is stern. “I mean it.”

“Well,” you finally muster, tone dipping sardonically into a cruel peel of humor, “Just wait until you see me in my natural habitat. Maybe the tequila shots will make you second guess that.”

“I didn’t know we were going out drinking,” he chirps as he raises an eyebrow, “Am I going to need to get you a leash?”

“We’re gonna have to try and blend in as best we can. People are going to know me — if they try to pin me with the GRC or the feds, we aren’t going to get anything on Innessa. They probably won’t even let me in the building if they suspect something’s up, after all not everything that goes down in Glass Cannon is kosher.”

“This is already sounding like a bad idea,” Bucky mumbles as he crosses his arms, “I’m stating that for the record, by the way.”

“Well, I think standing around and working ourselves up about this is even worse of an idea,” you chirp back, moving towards the door to muscle on your shoes, “So I say we feed ourselves and don’t worry about this until Thursday night.”

“Thursday.”

You nod.

All of a sudden, Bucky’s eyes go wide.

“Today is Sunday.”

You freeze, hand on the doorframe. You shoot him a wide-eyed look at the sudden flare of panic that’s shot up through him. “Yea, Bucky, today is Sunday.”

“Shit.”

“What?” you nearly cry as he disappears into the bedroom once more. You hear his closet open, then a clatter as he grabs something like keys — you nearly run directly into his chest when he strides back into the kitchen. He’s shouldered on his usual leather jacket, and in his hands is another.

He’s got keys in his hand.

“C’mon.”

He shoves the jacket into your arms and you frown.

“What the hell?” you cry, doubling back to snag your phone and bag as Bucky moves to the door, “What is this?”

“Put it on,” he says, holding open the door for you as you follow him into the apartment hallway.

You raise a brow and stand there as he locks the door.

“Why?”

“Because,” Bucky mumbles, rubbing his face as he widens his strides to the stairwell across the hall; before you know it, you’re desperately trying to keep up as he bounces down the steps — light on his feet like the boxer he is — towards the lower level of the apartment complex, “We’re late.”

You groan, trying to shrug on the jacket that smells like Bucky as you follow — a smell you’d come to know as clean laundry and sandalwood. Must be something for his hair. He never wore cologne, that much was apparent. The jacket is big on you, especially on the shoulders. You were swimming in it, trying not to trip as he held the door open to the garage.

Suddenly, the air is cooler. Immediately you wonder how much his rent is if he had access to a ground level garage. Call it NYC instinct.

“Bucky,” you nearly whine, throwing your head back, “Where are we going?”

Before you get a reply, you run straight into his back. Bucky grunts, moving to grab both of your hands and push you to the front of him.

Sitting in the spot is a motorcycle.

It’s a jet black Harley.

Bucky is handing you the helmet on the back seat as your mouth moves in disbelief. “No way— no, I’m not getting on that thing. I’d rather sell my kidneys. Stop, stop — ow, Bucky — you haven’t even said where we’re going!”

He’s muscling the helmet onto your head and through the flash of the visor you can see a real smile, the sort born out of his never-ending amusement towards your fickle sense of humor. His fingers are nimble against your chin. He takes the time to strap it on, adjust it, and give it a gentle tug. Bucky taps the matte black helmet twice, then flicks the visor down.

“We’re going upstate.”

                                        ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

It takes two hours to get to Elmwood Senior Living.

You spent the first forty-five minutes clinging to Bucky’s waist with your eyes closed — no fault of Bucky’s, really. It was different from riding in a car by miles, and you had your own qualms with driving. You couldn’t be in the passenger’s seat anymore. Not after the accident with Jaimie, when Mom disappeared. Being out of control made you itch; and it’s not until the fifty-minute mark that you ease up on the panic and remember who the man is that’s driving the bike.

You trust Bucky. You trust him with your life.

Once it’s open road, winding up towards the Northern part of the state, it gets easier.

Bucky can feel your grip around his waist loosen just a bit — and it’s enough reassurance that he stops looking back in the mirror every fifteen seconds. It’s enough permission to open up on the throttle, and the bike roars alive. Your immediate reaction is a gobsmacked yelp, the sort that’s pulled from a jolt of shock, but then comes the laugh. 

Bucky’s own quiet chuckle rumbles against your chest. You hold on tighter, but this time with open palms against the thrum of his ribs.

Halfway through the trip, he pulls into a McDonald’s.

You drop your ass onto the parking lot’s curb as he leans against the bike and houses a burger. You laugh, eyeing him candidly as you take a large bite from your own lunch. Bucky is a mess with it — cursing quietly when he ends up getting ketchup on his jacket.

“Shit.”

“Jesus, Bucky,” you mutter, “Did you even taste that thing?”

“Barely,” he clears his throat and starts picking at his fries, “These things taste different now. First time I ever had McDonald’s was right before bootcamp.”

“How much was it? Five cents?” you snort, leaning back and dropping a fry into your mouth.

Bucky watches with a half-smirk. “Fifteen, but nice try.”

He spends the next five minutes on his hand with a wet nap, trying hard to get the grease out of the delicate plates along his palm. You watch, as you knock back the rest of your soda, as his eyes crinkle tightly in frustration. His mouth is pulled tightly into a fine line. For the second time today, you’re reminded of how handsome Bucky Barnes is — and how fucking stubborn he is, too.

“Want help?”

“No,” he mutters, trying to get a spot between his thumb and index finger, “I got it.”

“I have smaller fingers,” you sing-song, gathering up his trash and your trash and crossing the parking lot to the bin; upon returning, you waggle them in his face, “Good for hard to reach places.”

Bucky absolutely hates that can feel his blush hit the tips of his ears at the comment.

He’s glad you’re too preoccupied with his hand to notice. You’re watching, like you always do, with respectful awe. To you, this part of him is a bit like a treasure — you find it beautiful and intriguing and incredible. It’s clear in the way you watch the mechanisms turn and tighten that you aren’t frightened by it.

It unsettles Bucky every time.

Finally, once he’s finished under your watchful eyes, he leans to muscle that helmet back over your head. You groan, squinting tightly.

“C’mon,” he knocks your helmet with his knuckles, “We’re almost there.”

The rest of the ride is wide open space, farm land and mountainous peaks looming far ahead. It’s warm, and the sun is hot on your back. The wind is howling around you and it sends your jacket collar flapping against your neck. Your chin rests neatly on Bucky’s shoulder, trying to get a view of the road ahead.

Elmwood Senior Living is tucked into the back of a suburb.

The two of you weave through a neighborhood or two, dancing under the shade of age old maple trees. They cast long, scattered shadows across the pavement as kids play on their lawns. A dog barks somewhere in the distance. Over the hill, church bells ring. Sunday service has ended.

Bucky rolls into the parking lot, past the large sign with swirling lettering. Suddenly, things make more sense. Suddenly, you’re struck with a sinking feeling of grief. Nostalgia. Mourning. But, happiness.

There are folks sitting outside, basking in the sun, tethered to walkers.

Bucky’s wrists crank back weathered knuckles, and slowly the bike rumbles into an open spot. Extending his legs, Bucky balances the bike with ease. You take that as your cue to swing yourself off the back clumsily, hopping a bit. Bucky leans, kicks the stand down, and with significantly more grace than you, swings his leg over.

You’re shrugging his jacket off when he speaks.

“He’s going to be different than how you imagine him.”

You exhale slowly, draping the jacket over the bike’s seat. You peel the helmet off.

“I’ve sort of pieced that together.”

You can see the slight discomfort hanging in his posture. You reach and touch Bucky’s arm.

“Come on,” you nod to the entrance, covered by a shady overhang where someone is helping a family member out of their car, “We don’t wanna be late, huh?”

His eyes soften. Bucky nods.

You walk side-by-side into the lobby of Elmwood Senior Living and it’s like time slows down. It halts in a warm, sunshine colored still — full of chatter, full of humanity, full of wisdom. The room is framed by big windows, by plants, by a man in a U.S. Navy ball cap. He’s stationed by the door, watching the comings and goings. The main desk, where a young woman watches, sits in the corner. You follow Bucky with a content little look. He notices.

He stands a little closer at the main desk. The girl, who looks like she’s incredibly out of place with her blue hair and piercings, is younger than you thought. Highschool, maybe. She offers Bucky an excited smile.

“Took you long enough,” she chirps, moving to sort through a bin to her side with key fobs.

Your brows raise. You spy calculus homework on the desk.

Bucky snorts. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

He notices the same problem set you so, and purposely leans over the desk. Suddenly, you’re seeing flashes of a more boyish version of Bucky — one that reminds you of a man with siblings. Bucky taps the paper, jutting a chin to the girl as she tries to swat his attention away.

“How’d you do on that test?”

“I got a 96,” she chirps pridefully, laughing, “Thanks for the help, nerd.”

You’re watching the entire exchange with a smile, backing up a bit to toss a curious glance over your shoulder. There’s a dining room through open doors — and looks like lunch is just wrapping up. Folks are moving around, back to their rooms or upstairs where you can hear the beginnings of a seated aerobics class begin.

Bucky nudges you with his hand.

“Thanks, Sarah,” he says and waves the key she’d handed over.

The girl with the blue hair scoffs. “Say hi to grandpa for me, Bucket.”

You laugh out loud as Bucky quickly flips her off. She’s quick to do the same.

You follow him around the corner, grinning ear to ear. He spares you a sheepish look, then rolls his eyes.

“What was that?”

“She’s a good kid,” he offers, eyeing the key with the grey little fob attached, “Reminds me of my sister.”

Your face softens. “Sister?”

“Her name was Sarah, too,” he says quietly, boots landing softly on the blue carpet. He’s navigating the residential wing like he’s done it a million times. There are rooms with flowers outside, with holiday garb, with little photos and keepsakes. Each room holds a lifetime of personality — the sound of Jeopardy lulls along in the background.

You hum. Bucky sighs.

He meanders down a long hallway where a different door is — this one heavy and locked by the little keypad. Bucky raises the key fob to the device and the door buzzes.

This side of Elmwood is quieter.

Down the hall, Timmy Dorsey and Sinatra play quietly over someone’s record player.

There aren’t as many folks in the hall in this wing, but doors are open and nurses flit about. Around the corner, there’s a loud conversation going on about lunch — and you watch as Bucky weaves towards the nursing station. It’s a room overlooking the common area with windows. Inside are three women.

One of them immediately jumps when she sees Bucky.

“Oh, good! I was meaning to talk to you—”

“Everything alright?”

“About the same,” she breathes as she stands, moving to grab at a Bucky’s arm with a sense of motherliness that makes you smile, “But, meals have been a bit difficult lately.”

“No kidding,” he mutters, rubbing his chin, “He just doesn’t wanna eat?”

“He thinks Peggy is coming home,” the woman whispers with a pained smile as she begins to lead you both down the hall, “He thinks your grandmother made dinner for him.”

“Right,” Bucky nods, “Doesn’t wanna ruin his appetite.”

“Exactly.”

You take note of the conversation, muddling through your own confusion. You’re quiet, though. This isn’t really your conversation to have. Bucky seems to be relaxed more — even humming slightly to a song that plays across the hall from the room the nurse is knocking on.

“Mr. Carter?” she calls gently, “Your grandson is here to see you, and his…”

She looks expectantly at you. You bawk.

“Friend.”

“Right,” she smiles and pushes open the door.

It’s like a little slice of home.

Sofas, chairs, photos on the walls. There’s a record player in the corner, a television, a coffee table stacked with books on the second world war. There’s a dresser covered in baubles and warm light coming in from the window overlooking the street. It reminds you of your grandparents’ sitting room — everything looks so lived in, so comfortable, so alive.

And then, below the light of the window, is a hospital bed.

In it is Steve Rogers.

Not the one you know — no, this one has lived a full life. This Steve Rogers has fallen in love, owned a home, settled down. This Steve Rogers has years of wisdom settled into his face, years of well-fought fights in his joints. His blonde hair has gone shock white, but his smile is all the same.

“Bucky.”

The way Steve says his name is like the man beside you holds the world.

To Bucky, he can hear a new weakness. A new exhaustion.

“Hi, punk.”

The nurse offers a little wave to you as Bucky ventures into the room, stripping his jacket off and moving to scope out the minifridge in the small kitchenette beside the bathroom. She leaves the door open, and you smile to her softly. Bucky rummages, poking his head up.

“You want a drink, Steve?” he asks, tone almost like he’s feeling out the lucidity of the man across the room, “There’s some of that lemonade I brought last week in here.”

“Sounds good,” he says slowly, “Please.”

You feel out of place — not unwelcome, but… it’s clear that Bucky has come and gone from here a thousand times now. He knows to get the glasses out, to get a straw, to turn down the record player on his way over. Doris Day’s voice lowers to a soft croon. You watch with heavy eyes.

“I brought someone, Steve,” Bucky says, “She’s a big fan.”

“Oh?” Steve asks with a slow look to the corner where you’re standing, “That musta broke your heart.”

Bucky snorts as he moves to swing the hospital bed’s tray over Steve’s lap. He places the lemonade down, then the other glass on the nightstand. He’s quick to move the armchair closer to the nightstand, and gestures for you to come over. Bucky’s hands guide you by the shoulders as he plops you into the chair.

“She’s one of the good ones,” Bucky says, “Reminds me of you.”

“No kidding,” Steve says slowly, offering a hand that shakes, “Steve Rogers. It’s a pleasure.”

You exchange your name with a shy look, shaking that hand with reverence and gentility. “It’s an honor, Mr. Rogers.”

“Please,” he mumbles, moving to slowly take a sip of his lemonade, “Steve is fine.”

Bucky moves to take up a post on the opposite side of Steve, in the sun. “You’re losin’ weight, y’know.”

That earns him a wave of the hand.

Bucky leans back and sips his lemonade. He waggles a finger and you watch the two begin to go back and forth.

“No, no,” he swallows, “No, you don’t get t’ shrug me off—”

“M’fine, Buck,” a sigh, “Really.”

“Mhm,” he narrows his eyes, “You’re startin’ to look like the Steve I knew before the serum.”

You lean back, hiding a quiet smirk behind your hand.

“I was wondering when you were gonna show up an’ pester me,” he says with a tired look, “The only peace I get around here is when Peggy comes home.”

Your eyes jump to Bucky. He’s watching you.

“Peggy?” you ask gently, “Is that your wife?”

A proud smile washes over his face. “Still knocks me for a loop, too.”

“Steve,” Bucky’s voice is gentle, “Peggy won’t be coming around for a while. Remember?”

There’s a look that flashes across Steve’s face, then. A mixture of sadness, of confusion, of panic. It’s clouded with a furrow of his brow, hidden by a tilt of the head. He looks at Bucky, mouth pulled in a fine line.

When he finally speaks, his voice is sad.

“That’s right. I forgot.”

“S’alright,” Bucky taps his head, maintaining an air of nonchalance, “That’s why you got me.”

“And why you’ve got her, no doubt,” he turns to you with a winning smile and offers his hand again, “Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you.”

You take it, you shake it, and you introduce yourself once more. Your smile is patient and understanding. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Steve.”

Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Steve smiles, tossing Bucky a look that borders on mischievous.

He sips his lemonade and clears his throat. “How is Sam?”

“You ask every time,” Bucky mutters, “And every time I have the same answer.”

“Sam?” you ask slowly.

“Wilson,” Bucky finishes, “Bird man.”

“You mean Falcon,” you correct, shooting him a stern look, “The Falcon. Are you ghosting The Falcon?”

“I don’t know what that even means, so maybe,” Bucky leans back and crosses his legs, “I’ve been busy.”

You roll your eyes. Steve saw. He smiles.

“I’m gettin’ why he keeps you around.”

Your face is smacked with a look of pure joy.

“C’mon on now,” Bucky cries, nearly indignantly, “No flirting—”

“M’ not flirting—”

“I know that look, Steve—”

Steve is laughing.

Bucky has a stern look in his eye. “You always do this—”

“I’m not doin’ a damn thing—”

“And you better keep it that way, old man,” Bucky shirks, voice splintering into a laugh in a way that you’ve never heard before, “I swear, this is how it always goes.”

“Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, huh, Buck?” you ask gently, leaning your cheek into your hand.

Steve laughs loudly at that.

Bucky spares you a smile — the sort that’s drenched in good humor and sunlight. It makes your lungs flutter, and you ignore the buzz in your fingers at the sight. You hide your laugh into your cup of lemonade, resigning to be a quiet counterpart in the conversation.

The two of them go on to chat about small things, then chat about old things. From the Commandos, to HYDRA, to amends, to therapy, to Peggy, to the itch the starch of their old dress uniforms used to bring. It takes a bit, a few redirections on the way, but it’s clear by the end why Steve Rogers is in Elmwood’s memory unit.

It makes your heart ache.

And if a super soldier is bed-ridden…

The two of you say goodbye around three in the afternoon after Bucky helps Steve shave.

The walk back to the bike is quiet.

Bucky speaks first.

“He’s dying.”

You chew your lip, eyes on the pavement. You match his slow stride, bumping your elbow with his as you walk. It’s still warm, and the clouds hang high in the sky. When you look up, Bucky’s watching you. You sigh.

“I’m sorry,” you finally muster, “I am.”

“Don’t be,” he says, grabbing the jacket from the seat and holding it up, “He’s lived a long life.”

You let Bucky hold out the arm for you, and you press your hand through the sleeve. He helps the other side on, and you zip it up to your chin. When you turn around to face him, there are tears in your eyes.

They snuck up on you. You hadn’t realized it until Bucky’s face fell, until the first one fell along the weathered leather of the jacket. You blink, raising your brows as you swipe them away, and offer an apologetic look.

“I’m happy,” you say, “Y’know. He has you. But, he’s a man out of time. Even now. That makes me sad.”

Bucky’s quiet for a while. He’s leaned up against the bike as you turn and watch Elmwood from the back of the parking lot. There’s a big part of you that feels heavy with guilt — and though Steve was in good spirits when you left, you can’t help but ache to provide him with more company. It’s clear that seeing Bucky means a lot to him, and that in turn it means a lot to the man beside you.

“Come on,” Bucky says then, “Let’s go home.”

You nod, let him muscle that helmet onto your head one more time, and hold on a little tighter back to the city.

                                       ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

You don’t see Bucky until Tuesday.

In all honesty, it feels weird to not hear from him for two days. At the very least, you expected some sort of phone call — but you remind yourself that you’ve been okay alone for a long time. There’s no need to throw all your work on being comfortable by yourself out the window for Bucky Barnes.

It’s tempting, though. God, it’s really tempting.

You hate the ache in your chest when you finally see him lumbering towards the cafe counter before your appointments. You hate this new feeling — so you shove it down and ignore the way his fingers brush yours when he hands you your latte.

He is ignoring it, too. He’s been ignoring it.

No use in thinking about it though.

“You got plans later?” you ask him in the elevator after your appointment, tilting your head, “Apparently there’s a Lord of the Rings marathon tonight on FX.”

Bucky stiffens — and immediately he can feel the hot sting of anxious regret flood his cheeks. He clears his throat, tucks his hands in his pockets, and toes the ground. You watch with a confused look. Then he speaks tightly.

“...I’ve got a date.”

You could have caught flies the way your jaw fell open.

“Oh. Oh!”

You blink, readjust your expression, and swallow down a sharp stab of rejection.

Bucky clears his throat. “It’s… I wasn’t going to but, Dr. Raynor—”

“No, no,” you wave your hands and shake your head and try to seem genuine, “No, I’m happy for you. Is this one of those Christian Minglers?”

Bucky groans. “Shut up.”

“Okay,” you say, “Okay! Just, uh, be careful. Y’know? And call if you need anything.”

The elevator doors open, and Bucky walks side by side with you through the well-lit lobby. He holds the door open for you, and you pass through with a pained look at the ground. He lingers, though, rubbing the back of his neck as you wait for him to say what’s on his mind.

“Thursday,” he says, “I’ll stop by.”

“Yea,” you say, waving your hand, “Whenever.”

But, that doesn’t end up happening.

No, Bucky Barnes shows up at your apartment doorstep at 10pm.

He’s clutching takeout and a six pack of beer and wearing a horrified expression that screams of guilt and exhaustion. No, Bucky buzzes the door to your apartment and basically croaks that he’s here — he’s asking if the marathon is still on while you buzz him up.

“Third floor,” you say into the buzzer with a smile, “Come on in, old man.”

When you open the door, you have to laugh — because his hair is a mess and there’s still a trace of lipstick on the corner of his mouth. Whereas jealousy threatens to flare, his incredibly regretful expression tamps it down. You cock a hip, eye him up and down, and jut your chin out.

“Get laid?”

Bucky rolls his eyes so hard you’re surprised he didn’t break something.

He pushes past you, moving to drop the beer on the counter and place the takeout gently down by the basket of fruit.

“I’m here for the cat,” he grumbles, “Not your witty commentary, sweetheart.”

You’re moving quietly to the sink and gathering a paper towel with a smirk as Bucky looks around, admiring the decor and aliveness of your apartment. When you turn around, he’s already pried a beer from the pack and popped the top off with his vibranium palm.

He winces when you reach up to swipe the coral lipstick from the corner of his mouth.

Then Bucky settles, letting you clean off the mess.

“Mhm,” you hum, “Right. Was it at least fun?”

“She had fun,” he mutters into his first sip, “It was a lotta tongue for my first night out in nearly a century, though.”

You wince. He nods with a sardonic smile that tells you everything about how the date went down — and you’re relieved. “So, I take it you're not calling her in the morning?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “Nope. No, and I’ve decided no more dates. That was enough for me.”

You wince and pluck a beer from the pack. Wordlessly, Bucky gestures for you to hand it over. In one smooth motion, he twists the cap off with his hand.

“That bad?” you ask, eyeing him critically.

“I decided halfway through,” he says as he moves to take the takeout from its bag, “I’d rather be watching Lord of the Rings with you.”

That stops you into silence. It’s like someone’s taken your own words and gagged you with them — and you’re left floundering for breath you never even realize you lost. You know he means it. You know it because he won’t look at you, because that sort of confession isn’t easy for people like you two. So you take those words and you glue them in a lonely locket and keep them close to your heart.

Poke’s entrance saves you a mouthful of broken words — he comes in, trots up to Bucky, and hollers.

Bucky laughs.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he mutters, eyeing the cat that’s eagerly rubbing himself along Bucky’s leg.

You wipe your face, sip your beer, and move to the pantry across from the kitchen island. You come back out with a bag of salmon treats — the good ones — and offer Bucky the bag. He takes it, eyes still on the calico, and crinkles it a little.

You lean against the counter and watch Bucky kneel.

“If you keep it up long enough he might even let you hold him.”

He lights up at that.

You laugh.

You move to grab plates and forks and knives and groan when you open up the first box to see Pad Thai — you make a mental note to properly thank Bucky for this. You meager dinner of reheated pasta really hadn’t hit the spot. This will, though. You can tell from the smell alone.

By your knees, Poke chirps.

“He’s cute.”

“I never took you for a cat guy.”

Bucky snorts.

You make a plate and flick his head as you walk by. “You’re missing the start of The Two Towers.”

“I’m going to be confused, aren’t I?” he asks as he stands and begins making himself a plate. He watches as you settle onto the couch and sip your beer, “I was too busy being turned into a cyborg to read the books.”

You laugh out loud. It shocks you.

“Was that a joke? Did Bucky Barnes just make a joke?”

He’s smirking. He rounds the counter with his food and settles next to you. Poke is following him, eager to curl up next to his new friend.

“I can be funny.”

“Funny lookin’.”

He elbows you on purpose. You snort into your beer.

There’s a comfortable moment of quiet between you, and you clear your throat.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah,” he says slowly, “No problem.”

More quiet, and he’s still watching you. Then, he asks what’s been on his mind for the last three days.

“You got a plan for Thursday?”

“I’ve got anxiety, Buck,” you exhale, swigging your beer and turning the television up, “I always have a plan.”

[edwardskhakipants]

Forks, Washington. August 2004.

Esme and Carlisle stood in the middle of their grand living room, waiting for their five vampire children to arrive. Alice arrived first—prompt as usual. She settled herself gracefully onto the tufted sofa Esme had recently acquired, only to be immediately jostled by Emmett who heaved himself onto the cushions. A breath caught in Esme’s throat—she had lost many pieces from her beloved collection by that action—but it looked like this one was still in one piece. For the moment. Jasper took Edward’s normal spot in the only armchair, forcing Edward to wedge himself between Alice and Emmett.

“What?” Rosalie grumbled as she perched on the armrest of the couch beside Emmett, “Are we having another one of those How to Respect the Telepath in Your Life meetings again?”

“No,” Edward answered, fully aware of the intent of this meeting since it hatched in Carlisle's mind two days prior. “But there’s never a bad time to bring that up. Christ, Emmett, if you’re going to have a song stuck in your head for over seventy-two hours, the least you can do is learn the correct lyrics.”

Emmett’s eyebrows knit together, asking his brother a silent question.

“It’s ‘mulatto, an albino, a mosquito, my libido,’” Edward answered.

Emmett’s brow furrowed doubtfully.

“No.” Edward shook his head, answering Emmett’s thoughts. “Why would he eat a beetle?”

Emmett grinned playfully and tilted his head towards Edward.

Edward wasn’t amused. “You know what it means.”

A silly grin plastered on his face, Emmett elbowed Edward in the ribs, silently egging him on.  

Edward’s eyes darted to Carlisle, then Esme, and he shifted in his seat. “Sexual desire,” he muttered.  

Emmett howled with laughter and clapped his hands once, “Wow, Eddie! You’re just going to say that in front of Esme!?” Edward scowled as Emmett’s bouts of laughter echoed through the room.

Esme ran a hand through her youngest’s ginger hair. “Boys,” she warned, and Emmett sucked in his laughter.

“Our meeting today has to do with all of you,” Carlisle began.

“We simply wanted to go over the rules of attending school with you kids before you start your second year at Forks High School,” Esme explained, unfolding and re-folding her hands in front of her. “There are already whispers, and we don’t want those whispers to turn into rumors.”

“I thought the only whispers about us at school were whether or not Edward liked girls,” Rosalie said, earning an eye-roll from Edward.

“No,” Alice chirped,” Some kids think we’re a cult.”

Jasper leaned back heavily in his chair. “We haven’t heard that one since the Seventies.”

“Kids are getting more creative these days.” Emmett nodded appreciatively.

Esme held up one, delicate finger. “Which is why it is best to take preventative action.”

Carlisle took the floor. “We thought a few reminders would be helpful before you started your first day of your second year,” Carlisle said. “We don’t want another incident like the one we had at the end of last year.”

Every head in the room turned towards Emmett.

“What?” Emmett threw up his hands in exasperation, “The water gun fight was the senior prank—I wasn’t the one who brought them to the school. Hell, I wasn’t even the only student who got suspended!”

“That’s true,” Carlisle agreed, “but you were the only student to shout, ‘Sit down, kids! Daddy’s gotta tinkle,’ and shoot the stream of the gun from your crotch.”

Jasper snickered—the sound was immediately silenced by a single raised eyebrow from Esme.

“I still don’t see the problem,” Emmett continued, “That’s not necessarily a vampire thing.”

Edward—who often mistook himself as the third vampire parent rather than the youngest son—sighed, “Yes, but it brings unnecessary attention to the family. Which is the first rule: do not bring attention to yourself.”

Esme ran her fingers through her son’s hair once more, “Yes, darling, you are especially good at keeping to yourself.” Edward’s eyes widened, despite Esme’s gentle touch, already aware of where her point was headed. “So much so, that I have been given the names of several child therapists to help my son through his depression. One was recommended for his exceptional work on spotting and treating the early signs of sociopathic behavior.”

Esme grabbed her son’s chin and forced him to look at her. “You have to talk to other people.”

Knocked off his high horse, Edward flinched back from Esme’s hand. “Friendship with humans never bodes well for us.”

“We’re not asking you to create lifelong friendships with humans,” Carlisle clarified, “We are simply asking you to be likable.”

“A nearly impossible feat for Edward.” Rosalie grinned. The comment went unnoticed, save Edward’s slight flinch. But the quick, little tick was satisfying enough for Rose.

“Look at your father,” Esme gestured towards Carlisle, “At every hospital he works at, he goes out of his way to ensure he is well-liked among his colleagues. He forces down countless lunches and coffees, solely to make sure they’re comfortable around him.”

Carlisle took over. “And your mother, a beloved member of her gardening club and a prized member of the PTA.”

“And neither of us have rumors started about us, and do you know why?”

All five teenagers grumbled the ingrained response. “Humans don’t want to spread rumors about people they like.”

“Exactly.” Esme nodded.

“I try!” Alice whined, “But Edward never lets me talk to any humans.”

“That’s because every, single thing that is about to come out of your mouth is incriminating. You might as well walk around with a neon sign that says, ‘I’m a psychic vampire’.”

Alice scoffed, “Is not!”

“You wanted to tell Nihal Howard not to audition for the musical.”

“And he broke his leg on opening night,” Alice challenged.  

“You were going to tell Christiana Ward that pink was not her color.”

“And she lost prom queen to Ashley Kirby.”

Jasper put a comforting hand on his wife’s knee. “Maybe try not to meddle so much, darlin’. Natural relationships, first.”

“They would have been!” Alice wailed, “I would have played it cool and casual and made friends and you all would have seen it! But everyone’s hurt and I have no friends at all because Edward won’t let me try!”

Edward rolled his eyes.

Carlisle suppressed a heavy sigh. “You have to let your sister try, Edward.”

Edward’s mouth fell open. “You cannot seriously be siding with her on this!”

But Carlisle stood his ground. He and Edward stared at one another for a few seconds, engaged in a silent conversation. In the end, Carlisle tilted his chin and Edward slumped back. Victorious, Alice used both pointer fingers to jab Edward in the side several dozen times at vampire speed.

Rosalie flipped her golden locks over her shoulder. “I don’t know how you all struggle so much. I have no issues with becoming well-liked at school while remaining inconspicuous.”

“Oh yeah, you’re so inconspicuous,” Edward grumbled, now extra-petty that he had been called out two times in one meeting. “You dress like you're on your way to brunch at your second husband’s country club in Beverly Hills and you make out with your foster brother. The perfect picture of discretion in Forks High School.”

“At least I don’t dress like a sad, old man.” Rosalie grimaced, disappointed in her comeback. The light, humorous insults that were required in family situations were Emmett’s forte; Rosalie’s insults were meant to emotionally cripple a person.

Edward sat up in his seat on the couch and turned to face Rosalie. “I think you missed the main takeaway in that you make out with your foster brother.” Edward turned back. “I can read your minds, and I still don’t understand what made either of you think it was okay to bring your relationship to school?!”

Emmett smiled, unperturbed. “It’s hot.”

“It’s disturbing,” Edward disagreed.

Esme frowned, “You kids don’t really do that, do you?”

“Would it help if Jasper and I became an official couple too?” Alice suggested.     Jasper perked up at the idea of being able to hold hands with Alice in public again.

“No!” Edward yelled at the same time Emmett and Rosalie muttered their acquiesce.

“It wouldn’t seem as weird if there were two couples,” Emmett agreed.

Edward dug his fingers through his hair. “Oh my god!”

“...maybe not, kids,” Esme intervened, but was ultimately ignored.

“So should we come out today like it happened over the summer, or make a little show out of it?” Alice asked Rosalie.

Rosalie waved a hand in the air. “Oh, it’s way more fun if you play up the theatrics.”

“A little more realistic, too,” Emmett agreed.

Alice looked to Jasper for his opinion. “It might be better if we were discreet about it,” she said. “Like we knew it was wrong, but we wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of our love.”

Jasper scooted forward to the edge of his seat. “Or we could let it be quiet and drawn out. Let others see our mutual pining, and root for us to be together.”

Gazing deep into the golden eyes of her soulmate, Alice sighed, “I love that.”

“If people wanted us to get together, it would normalize Emmett and Rosalie’s relationship.”

“Or Rosalie and Emmett could stop,” Edward suggested, bitterly. “That would be normal, too.”

“Oh, Edward,” Alice patted his shoulder, “You’ll find love someday, too.”

“That is not at all what bothers me about the situation.”

Carlisle made the decision for everyone. “Rosalie and Emmett, break up at school. Alice and Jasper, remain friends and siblings.”

Disappointment filtered into the room through Jasper.  

“I heard that,” Edward grumbled at someone’s thoughts.

“You were supposed to,” Rosalie shot back.

“We are also initiating a new rule,” Esme brought the room back to the conversation at hand, “No more correcting your teachers.”

A chorus of complaints rang from the couch.

Esme clicked her tongue, “I’m tired of defending you all from entirely preventable issues. I have emails from curious teachers wondering why my foster daughter is taking French 101, when she already appears to be fluent.” Esme looked at Rosalie, who immediately tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Or why my son, at the tender age of sixteen, could not only deadlift three hundred pounds in his first weightlifting class, but also give his coach tips on improving his posture.”

Emmett glanced over at Edward before he realized Esme was, in fact, addressing him. “What!?”

Jasper snorted. The sound was a mistake, for it brought Esme’s wrath onto him. “And not to mention the emails from not one, not two, but three teachers warning me that my foster son has an intimate understanding of the mechanics of a point fifty-eight caliber rifle-musket.” Esme held out her hands, almost pleadingly, “How does that subject keep coming up, Jasper?”

A noncommittal grunt was the only answer Jasper had for that question.

“No more,” she commanded. “You can get good grades but keep your extra knowledge on any subject to yourself. Whatever your teacher teaches is all you know. Understand?”

“But what if we—” Edward started.

“Understand?” Esme repeated.

The five teenage vampires understood, even if they didn’t want to. 

“I believe that all five of you will graduate from Forks High School!” Esme cheered.

The kids stared back, unable to muster the zeal Esme had over the prospect.

“Meeting adjourned!” Carlisle announced, and faster than fast vampire speed, the kids bolted from their seats. 

Esme was able to get in a few more reminders as her children flitted around the house and filed out to the silver Volvo.  “Remember to buy lunch with cash and not your credit cards. Emmett, please do not joke about being mauled by a bear. Do not address your teachers by their first names—I don’t care if you’re older than they are, Edward. Alice, please wear something a bit more causal, pet.”

When the house was finally empty, Carlisle pulled Esme backwards into his chest and began massaging her temples. The gesture wasn’t needed, but any touch from her husband was always welcome.

“Do you think they’ll listen?” she asked her husband.

“Not a chance.”

[atlafan]

Open Door Policy - One Shot

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

Warnings: angst, fluff, and smut! 

Words: 21.5K 

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

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

“Dr. Styles.” Y/N groans.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes.” She smiles back at him.

“Come on in, have a seat.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

“Looks at the exact same.”

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“And I was your professor?”

“Yes, Dr. Styles.”

He plucks his fingers over his lips.

“I feel bad for not remembering you.”

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

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

“Yeah.” She blushes.

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

“It’s alright, I recovered.”

“Clearly.” He smiles.

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

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

“That would be great, thank you.”

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

“You can take that off, you know?”

“What?”

“Your blazer.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

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

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

“It’s fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You work at Bento’s?”

“Yeah.”

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

“I work in the back as a baker.”

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

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

“I did?”

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

“Ah, well, glad I could help.”

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he remember you?” Nessa asks.

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

“Why is that embarrassing?” Charlotte asks.

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

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

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

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

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

“You two are the worst.” She groans.

//

“Hey, Y/N!”

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, uh, it was pretty easy.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“He’s gonna fuck you.”

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

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

//

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

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

“Morning, Y/N, are you excited?”

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

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

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

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

“Alright.”

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

“Thanks, that’s a really good tip.”

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

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

“Brilliant.” He says to her.

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

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

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

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

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

“Communication.”

“Undecided.”

“IT.”

“Psychology.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When does your next class start?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm?” She grunts.

“Gotta wake up, love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you think I’m home more?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m so sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not at all.”

“At least let me pay you.”

“No way.”

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

//

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

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

“Oh stop.” Y/N nudges her.

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

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

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

Y/N’s eyes grow wide.

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

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

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

Y/N: of course!

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it okay that I used your Netflix?”

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Harry.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Morning.” Harry says.

“Morning.” She pats Max’s head.

“Sleep alright?”

“Mhm, thank you.”

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

“Sure, I could eat.” She smiles.

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

“Eggs and toast alright?”

“Sounds great.”

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

“You working at Bento’s today?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sugar?”

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

“Mm, this is delicious, thank you.”

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

“Do you have to go to campus today?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You were?” He frowns.

“You’re a little intimidating.”

“I don’t mean to be.”

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

“Thanks again for watching him.”

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

“See you, have a good weekend, love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You got it.”

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

“Opening a tab tonight?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They could be college students.” Louis says.

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s got a point, Har.” Louis says.

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

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

“It’s not happening.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Doing what?” Charlotte asks nervously.

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

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

“Oh, am I? Who is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

“Oh, you do?” Louis smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi.” He says.

“Hi.”

“Did my friend bother you?”

“Not at all…he was very nice.”

Harry nods and sips from his drink.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

“Really?!”

“Mhm.”

“Should I go talk to him?”

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

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

“Wing-man to the rescue, I’m on it.”

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

“What?”

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“Do what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And then you made me breakfast.”

“As an extra thank you.”

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

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

“Where is he anyways?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yup.” He takes a swig of his beer.

“Why?!”

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

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

“I didn’t say that.”

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

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

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

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

“What did you just say to me?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t talk to me like that, Y/N.”

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He…talks about me?”

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

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

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

“How long have you been waiting out here?”

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

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

“When then?”

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

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

“Depends, what’s on the menu?”

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

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

“Alright, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he give you his number?”

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

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

“What?”

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

“Hi.”

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

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

“Come, sit, the food’s ready.”

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

“This looks good, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

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

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

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

“You would have?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

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

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

“We are?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s alright.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Correct.”

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

“Yes.”

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

“What are you saying exactly?”

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

“Yeah, it was good. You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, good!”

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

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

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

“Is it based off of Love, Simon?”

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

“Sure, we could watch that.”

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

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

“Mm, this is tasty, what is it?”

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

“It’s perfect, thank you.”

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

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

“S’alright, he keeps me pretty warm.”

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

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

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

“Now who’s being annoying?”

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

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

“Pizza would be perfect, thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm?” He grunts, clearly out of it.

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

“Get in.” He mumbles.

“Really, are you sure? Because I-“

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did, didn’t I…”

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

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

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

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

“But you will be again.”

“Because you wanted me to be.”

He looks at her and pouts.

“We’ll see each other more this way.”

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

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

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

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

“We could be discrete.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

“But I could-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You, um, you didn’t, I made them.”

“From scratch?”

“Well, yeah.”

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

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

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

“Harry.” She breathes against his lips.

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

“Can I?”

“Yes.”

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

“Are you not wearing any knickers?”

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

“Jesus Christ.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harry…” She watches him sit down.

“What?”

“Don’t you want to-“

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

“Okay.”

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

“You really made this from scratch?”

“Yeah, I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s delicious.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m on the pill.”

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

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

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

“Yes.” She whines. “Please.”

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

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

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

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

“Are you comfortable?”

“Could you maybe just hold my leg up?”

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

“Gonna come again for me?”

“Yes, fuck, I’m almost there, Harry!”

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

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

“Nope.” She smiles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you like ice skating?”

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

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

“I’d love it.”

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“What will I be then?”

“My girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?” Y/N asks.

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

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

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

“Course, mate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gonna let me lick it, angel?”

“Is that what you want?”

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

“How did-“

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

“What about it?” Harry chuckles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal.” She smiles.

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

//

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

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

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

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

“I love you, too.”

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

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

“Hey, no need to cry, darling.”

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you serious?!” He perks up.

“Yes.” She chuckles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harry…” She whines.

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

“You could have FaceTimed me.”

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

“You can stay.”

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

“I love you too.”

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you going to miss the girls?”

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

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

“I’m really proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you too, babe.”

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You did it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, what about me?” He pouts.

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

“Mhm.” He kisses on her and hovers over her. “My girl’s got her master’s. You’re so fucking smart, it turns me on.”

“Really?”

“When we did those mock interviews in my office I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking you.”

“Does this mean we can get a little sneaky in your office now?” She raises an eyebrow at him. “Or are you staying firm with your open door policy?”

“Think I may have to reconsider it, but only for you.”

[minria]

Instagram Update

Pairing: idol!Hoshix idol!(reader)OC

Word Count: Approximately 800 words

Type/Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none?

Prompt: Nari goes back to Korea with her members after their world tour and dyes her hair blonde for the first time since their debut in 2015. Soonyoung, her childhood friend, is in for a surprise when her finds out about it from her Instagram post.

Note: I hope you guys don’t mind that I named the reader. I’m much more used to using names instead of y/n. 😅

______________________________________________________________

Hwang Nari

I sighed for the nth time whilst scrolling through my phone’s gallery, it’s been an hour since my indecisiveness struck and all I wanted to do was choose two photos to post in my Instagram. Two photos out of the 50 that Aeri Eonnie took for me. I dyed my hair blonde for the first time since our group’s debut 7 years ago, so I’m really excited to surprise our fans and even my friends. I thought posting in my Instagram would be the easiest way to show it, but here I am an hour after.

“Nari-ah, any photo you choose to upload, everybody’s gonna love it.” Aeri Eonnie commented after hearing me sigh once more.

I looked up from my phone to see her shift her gaze from my eyes to my phone and giving me a pointed look, to which I replied with another sigh. She groaned, pushing herself up and mumbling about getting us some drinks, leaving me in our practice room.

By the time she returned, I managed to narrow down my choices to 5, and with an exasperated groan, I randomly chose two and posted it without second thoughts. Downing my coke in big gulps after clicking ‘post’.

Kwon Soonyoung

I didn’t even notice I finished my drink when another bottle of water was handed towards me. I nodded my thanks to Minghao who flopped down on the floor beside me, Dino and Jun hyung, working on the choreography for one of our songs in the new album.

My phone vibrated beside me, lighting up with a notification from my peripheral vision. I didn’t bother taking my attention off from my notebook but when my two members beside me ‘ooh-ed’ in unison and Dino commenting, “Nari-noona looks so pretty!” “I didn’t know they’re back in Korea.”

I snapped my head to look at him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. Did I forget they were coming home today? I thought it was supposed to be on the 5th. It was only August 3 today the last time I checked.

I grabbed my phone to check my messages. Sure, enough Nari had 3 messages for me letting me know they left Europe early and that she was here in the company for a meeting. The other notification from her as well, in Instagram. After replying to her messages and asking her to come up to our practice room if she was free, I opened my Instagram to see what was her update.

Oh.

Heat rushed to my face as I physically felt myself blush. Though she wasn’t fully showing her face in both photos, I still had to clutch my chest in a poor attempt at slowing my heart rate.

In the first photo, her blonde hair fell like a curtain on her shoulders and she was looking sideways, her laugh captured in frozen time, her eyes closed and crinkled from joy. The faint blush on her cheeks was so endearing but it was her outfit that made my heart thump louder. She was wearing my black and white checkered polo, unbuttoned and a black sleeveless shirt inside. I know it’s mine because I’ve been searching for that same polo in my closet for months and it looks very big on her. She looked ethereal even in casual clothes. Just as beautiful as she was, the day I finally understood what love was and how I saw it in her when we were kids.

The second photo was simply cute. Her face covered by her favorite chocolate milk drink that she was holding. I tried to act nonchalant while saving her picture and making it my home screen, but I should’ve known better than to do such things when I’m with my members.

One snicker from our maknae and I already know I’d be teased for weeks.

Hwang Nari

I just finished walking out the rest of my members who I didn’t notice was wearing sly smirks in their faces. The moment I turned around, a body knocked in to mine and arms wrapped themselves on my waist, pulling me flush against their chest. My panic faded when I recognized the scent that had me smiling and hugging them back.

“Hey Soon,” My words muffled and yet he was still able to understand me.

“Nari-ah,” he whispered, “I missed you. You look so pretty.”

“Shut up…I missed you too.”

After a few minutes, he pushed me to the elevator.

“Come on, we can catch up at the practice room, I wanna hear what my best friend has to say about her experience in Europe. I also ordered us pizza for dinner.”

“I already told you everything when we face timed!”

“Then tell me all about it again right now, and monitor my choreo after, I wanna hear your opinion on them.”

___________________________________________________________

“I can’t believe he kicked us out!”

“I can’t believe he still hasn’t asked her out, when they already act like a couple.”

[unhealthyfanobsession]

If you’re still taking prompts:

“Keeping a secret from your best friend is difficult... but when that secret is that you're madly in love with her, it's downright impossible. At least that's what Cassian thought, until he was a little tipsy and sharing a sleeping bag with said best friend. (College, modern AU)”

With smut please?🧎🏾‍♀️🙏🏽👀🥺

Oh hey bestie! So I think maybe you had like after a college party in mind for this but I went a… different way. Also it’s only smut-adjacent because I think good smut requires a Drabble of its own I think I’m sorry. Hope you enjoy!!!

Camping.

Nesta had two weeks between the end of her internship and the beginning of her last year of college, and somehow, she let herself get dragged along on her sister’s annual camping trip.

Their whole friend group was weird and twisted around like Ivy vines with who was closest to who, who was related to who, who was dating who, who had slept with who’s father (looking at you MOR!), and Nesta tended to avoid the big group things.

But this was only Feyre, Rhys, Azriel, and the real reason she was there… Cassian. Fucking Cassian dragging her off into the woods.

Nesta loved her sisters. She did. She wouldn’t spend time with them and pretend she didn’t hate their boyfriends if she didn’t love them. (Pretending not to hate Rhys and Lucien, for Nesta, pretty much required the energy of a full time job.)

She loved her sisters. But she was there for Cassian. Because she liked Cassian. Genuinely and entirely liked him. Nesta Archeron liked another human being. They’d been best friends since eighth grade when he tried to ask her out on the swing set and she elbowed him in the jaw.

Saying yes to that middle school date would’ve been the worst mistake of her life. Because then she’d have had this short drama filled relationship with Cassian and she wouldn’t have gotten to keep him. And she really loved that she got to keep him. Even if sometimes she wished he’d been her first kiss instead of Tomas.

Anyway, when he said he was going on this camping trip Nesta realized she had to go too. Because there was no way she was spending her free time somewhere that he wasn’t. He was her person. The person she wanted to spend her free time with.

“Pathetic,” Cassian grinned, plucking the pack right off of her back as if it weighed no more than a purse. As if she hadn’t been struggling under its weight for the past 4 kilometres.

“I agreed to camping. I didn’t realize a 7 hour hike was involved to get to the damn place.”

“Two hours at most, sweetheart.” Nesta scowled, pretending, as she always did, to hate his little endearments. “And all of the best spots require a hike. Otherwise they’re overcrowded.”

“Maybe overcrowded is a good thing. Maybe overcrowded means loud and safe instead of offering ourselves up to be a bear buffet.”

“I’ll protect you from any bears, I promise, Nes.”

Nesta glared. “You’re going to fight off a bear if it tries to eat me?”

“Of course I am,” Cassian nodded. “These muscles aren’t just for show.”

Nesta laughed. “How sad I’m going to lose my best friend on this trip. Don’t worry I’ll come up with something nice for the tombstone. “Here lies Cassian. Tried to fight a bear so his muscles would have a purpose.”

“I take it back, you can get eaten by the bear.”

“I’m going to shove you in front of the bear.”

Their water break had landed then both a few hundred feet behind Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel, so Cassian kept hold of her backpack as they moved, teasing her that he was still faster with two packs than she was with none.

When they arrived at the little clearing Nesta had to admit it was beautiful. Serene. A big patch of grass surrounded by trees with a stunning view over the mountains from a clearing just a few feet away.

“Worth the hike?” Cassian asked as he set up their tent. That was the deal. If Nesta was going to camp then he had to do all of the work. Because she didn’t know how to do it. Also he had to share his tent with her because seriously? Why would she own a tent? She wasn’t a damn mountain man.

“It is really pretty.”

“I told you you’d like camping, Nesta!” Feyre called out from over fifty feet away where Azriel, Cassian, and Nesta all banded together to force her and Rhys to put their tent. Far away from the other two. Nesta was so not sleeping on the ground AND listening to her little sister have sex all night.

“Cassian?” Consciousness pulled lightly through Cassian’s sleepy mind. “Cass? CASS!” He shot bolt upright, body instinctively turning to Nesta, looking her over, checking her for injuries or any other thing that might have her yelling his name into the pitch black tent.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Cassian laughed. It was probably 3am and she’d just woken him up, and still he was laughing. Man he had it bad.

“What’s up, buttercup?” He made a show of flipping around to face her even though he couldn’t really see her.

“I’m freezing.”

As his eyes adjusted, Cassian looked her over with a frown. She was bundled up in her sleeping bag, wearing his sweater… which he hadn’t given her, but he had discarded in between them before he went to sleep so that was fair game he guessed. It was far from the first time in over a decade of friendship that she’d stolen his sweater, but man… it still did something to him.

“Your sleeping bag isn’t made for below freezing temperatures, is it?”

Nesta stared at him. Blinked. “No. Why would it have to be? It’s August!”

“It’s colder up in the mountains,” Cassian explained. “Especially over night.”

“Great. I’ve been brought into the mountains to freeze to death and now Eris is going to win the gold medal for our year.”

Cassian laughed, “Well I can’t allow that. The horror.” This was probably a bad idea. No it was definitely a bad idea, but the words couldn’t be stopped from leaving his mouth once they popped into his mind. “Come share mine.”

Cassian half unzipped his sleeping bag and made a show of shuffling himself over.

“You’re too big.” She said.

“Thanks I work out,” Nesta glared at his cocky smirk. ���Come on Nes, it’s this or letting Eris win the gold medal.”

Nesta huffed, but unzipped her sleeping bag and crawled over to his, her legs were cool as they tangled with his in the tight sleeping bag. Cassian pulled her in, one arm wrapping instinctively around her shoulders to pull her against his chest, before he zipped the sleeping bag up again after her.

This had been such a bad idea. But what could he do? Let her freeze?

Cassian told Nesta everything, so it was already difficult enough to be keeping a secret from his best friend... but when that secret was that he had been madly in love with her since middle school, the situation became impossible. And pulling her perfect body tight up against his and wrapping her in his arms, hands moving up and down her shoulders quickly to try and warm her up, was not helping the situation.

“Thanks,” Nesta murmured sleepily. “I’m already a lot more comfortable.”

Me too, Cassian thought but would never say.

“Hey Cass?” Nesta’s voice was teasing. “What do we do if you wake up with morning wood?”

Cassian chuckled into her hair, a little bit drunk on the familiar scent of rosehips and iron will.

“Then I guess we’ll finally have sex.” He deadpanned.

Nesta’s jaw dropped. Ok. Bad joke. “I’m not having sex with you for the first time in a tent Cassian!”

Now Cassian’s jaw dropped. That was her issue with his suggestion? “I… Nesta I was joking. But… the tent is the problem? The only problem?”

“Grow a pair!” Nesta batted at him with her hand, an impressive feat considering she was all but pinned between him and the sleeping bag. “I thought this was you finally making a move.”

Cassian stared down at her. It was pitch black, but even with just the shadowy outlines of her features, he could see her exact expression in his mind.

“I wouldn’t use you freezing as a ploy to make a move, Nesta.”

“And why not?” She humphed, “it’s the perfect opportunity.”

“It’s… coercive.”

“Do I look coerced to you, Cassian?” Nesta ran her foot up his bare calf and Cassian shuddered.

“I can’t have sex with you if you’re looking for a friends with benefits, Nes.” Nesta paused her movements. “I… fuck, our friendship means so much to me and I’m so afraid to fuck it up. And if we start having sex I won’t be able to handle it being just sex and you’ll start to resent me so we just… shouldn’t go there.”

Nesta’s arms wrapped around him now, struggling to span the full width of his chest. “And if it wasn’t just sex?”

“Please don’t fuck with me about this,” he whispered. Low and Ernest in a way he almost never was.

“What?”

“Dont joke about this if you’re playing around or I don’t… you have to know, Nes. You have to know how completely in love with you I am.”

“Yeah,” Nesta tucked her head under his chin. “I know. I’ve just been waiting for you to make a move.”

It was dark. Cassian could barely see her. But there, with his arms around his best friend in the world, sharing a sleeping bag to keep her warm, Cassian nudged her out of his chest and found her lips in the pitch black.

Why had he kept this secret for so long? Everything in the world was better when he was kissing his best friend.

[marauders-venting]

I Love You

pairing: wolfstar (remus x sirius)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

words: 2304

note: based on a textpost by @moonyspadfoot45

a/n: yes i know disposable cameras didn’t exist until the mid 80s but i wrote that part before i googled it and i don’t want to change it so we’re gonna go with it

Remus sighed in the direction of the stack of boxes that looked like it was about to topple over.

“Sirius?” he called, walking into the living room.

“Yeah?” Sirius replied, peering at Remus around the stack of boxes from the couch where he was sitting.

“I swear to god if you and James used any of the boxes marked ‘fragile’ for your fortress…” He left the sentence hanging as he reached up to lower the box on the top. “How did you even manage to stack the boxes that high? Did you have to stand on a chair or something to reach up here?”

“Rude,” Sirius said, coming around to Remus’ side of the fort. “I’m not that short.”

“James had to do it, didn’t he?” Remus teased, turning around.

“Moony, stop making fun of me,” Sirius pouted. “Come on, we’re going into the fort.” The ‘fort’ was made of boxes that contained all of Sirius and Remus’ possessions stacked to form walls with a sheet stretched over the top. And it was right in the middle of the living room of Remus and Sirius’ new apartment.

Sirius grabbed Remus by the hand and pulled him into the fort. The sheet, which was their makeshift ceiling, was hanging so low that even Sirius had to sit on the floor. They sat down and Remus looked around. Then he spotted a box labelled ‘kitchen ware’ and turned to Sirius.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he said. “I was looking for that box for like an hour! I nearly called the movers to ask them to double-check that they hadn’t missed any boxes!”

“I didn’t know you were looking for it!” Sirius said defensively.

“I literally asked you if you’d seen the box!” Remus said, laughing and shaking his head.

“Uhhh,” Sirius started, scrambling for an excuse, “I’m sorry, Remus, but you should know by now that I answer most questions wrong.”

“That is the worst excuse I’ve ever heard,” Remus said.

“Then you obviously haven’t heard any of the excuses I gave McGonagall for breaking the rules,” Sirius said.

“What are you talking about, I was there 90 percent of the time,” Remus said.

“Yeah but when you were there you were giving the excuses.”

“Yeah, my excuses were good, they got us out of detention,” Remus said.

“Feels weird knowing I’ll never have another detention,” Sirius said, lying down on the carpet he and James had brought into the fort earlier. “I keep thinking we’re gonna go back at the end of the summer.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Remus said, lying down next to him. “It feels like just yesterday you were asking me to move it with you and now we’re here. In our living room. In a fucking fort.” Sirius laughed and kissed Remus lightly.

Remus remembered the day Sirius had asked him to move in. He’d never forget it. It was their first anniversary and they were up on the astronomy tower, the same place they’d gotten together the year before. Remus remembered how hard he was trying to put aside his anxiety about the upcoming exams just for that day. Sirius made it easier. Sirius made everything easier.

“Can I give you my present now?” Sirius asked. Remus had felt his cheeks heating, despite the fact that he was quite cold up on the tower, in the cool breeze stinging his face.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he muttered.

“I know,” Sirius said. “But I wanted to. Besides, you were the one who planned out this whole day. And you're the one who’s taking me out on the Hogsmeade weekend after exams.” Remus supposed it was true. He had planned out the day down to the last detail. He felt very cliche doing it but it was worth it to see the look on Sirius’ face. And to feel Sirius’ lips on his.

“Oh alright,” Remus gave in. He was curious now. Sirius handed him a small grey box. Remus cocked his head at him but Sirius’ expression was unreadable. He opened the box and inside it was a silver key and a disposable Muggle camera. Remus picked up the key and turned it over, examining it.

“Pads, what is this?” he asked finally. He was afraid he had ruined something. That this was something sentimental that he was supposed to understand.

“It’s a key,” Sirius said. Remus rolled his eyes.

“I’d figured that much out myself, funnily enough,” he said. “What is the key to?”

“Look at the camera.” Remus did. He picked it up and, glancing at Sirius to make sure this is what he was meant to do, looked through the photos in the camera.

“An apartment?” Remus said, still confused.

“Our apartment,” Sirius said. He was looking at Remus, his grey eyes alight.

“What?” Remus said, gaping at him.

“Only if you want it to be,” he added hurriedly. “I just thought… Everybody's been talking about living arrangements after school and I–I thought maybe you might like to live together. I mean, I haven’t finalised anything yet so we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Or we could still pick a different place. The owner’s of this one won’t vacate it until August so we’d have to figure something out for the first month and a bit after we graduate but I’m sure the Potters won’t mind if we stay there for a little while. And Lily and James might want to be alone in the beginning but I doubt they’d kick us out if we showed up but… do you hate it?” He had barely breathed in between words until now. He looked up at Remus nervously, biting his nail.

“Are you kidding me? I love it,” Remus said. “Sirius, this is… this is incredible. You’re incredible. I—” Remus hesitated. He knew what he wanted to say. But he couldn’t form the words. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“So you’re saying you’ll do it?” Sirius asked. “You’ll move in with me?”

“Yeah,” Remus said. “Yes, of course I will.” Sirius beamed at him. But then something occurred to Remus. “Sirius, you haven’t paid anything yet, have you? If you have I’ll pay you back, I—”

“Shh, don’t worry about that now,” Sirius said. “We’ll figure out all the technical details later.” Remus bit his lip.

“Okay,” he said. He could put it out of his mind for that night.

“Happy anniversary, Moony,” he said. And then he kissed Remus, there on top of the astronomy tower and Remus felt just as much excitement then as he had when Sirius had kissed him there for the first time, exactly one year previously.

And here they were now. In their apartment. They ended up deciding on the one Sirius had originally chosen, the one that he’d shown Remus photos of that evening. The owners had ended up vacating a bit earlier than they had said because there was still a week until August. Sirius had stayed at the Potter’s for the first few weeks and Remus had gone back home. But as they were spending every waking moment at Lily and James’ house anyway, they suggested that Remus and Sirius just stay with them. They had invited Peter to stay with them too, just while Sirius and Remus were there but he’d turned down the offer (“After seven years of sleeping in the same room with three other blokes, I think I’ll be good on my own for a while,” he had said). He still came over every day and stayed until around midnight but he always preferred to sleep at home. He said he’d never get used to it if he stayed at Lily and James’.

James, Peter and Lily helped them move in too. They’d been with them to Ikea a few days previously to buy furniture. And they had come over today to help start unpacking things. Well, Lily and Peter helped unpack. James was more interested in building a fort out of the boxes with Sirius.

Remus remembered worrying that he might spend less time with his friends after school since they’d no longer be living in the same big castle but so far the amount of time he spent with Lily, James and Peter had not decreased even a little.

But Lily and James had gone home now and Peter had gone back to his studio flat; Remus and Sirius were alone, together in their new apartment.

“Are you hungry?” Sirius asked, snapping Remus back into reality. “I could make you dinner.”

“You’re going to make dinner?” Remus snorted. “I’m sorry but have you ever made food in your entire life?”

“I have actually,” Sirius said. “Mrs Potter taught me how to make food when I lived there. I’m not as good at it as James is but I can make something edible without burning down the kitchen. Although I nearly did that the first time I tried to make food.”

“Well, that’s very convincing,” Remus said sarcastically. Sirius elbowed him in the ribs. “I’m kidding!” he said. “I’ll be on standby with the fire extinguisher.”

“What’s that?” Sirius asked.

“Kind of in the name, babe,” Remus said and then he crawled quickly out of the fort before Sirius figured it out and elbowed him again.

But Remus was pleasantly surprised because not only did Sirius manage to not light the whole house on fire, but he even produced some pretty good food.

“You know, this is quite nice,” Remus said, taking another bite. “Mrs Potter must be a really good teacher if she managed to get you to this level of cooking.”

“Why can’t you just have a little bit more faith in my talents, Moony?” Sirius said. “But yeah, she’s a great teacher. James, on the other hand, is a terrible teacher. It’s not that he can’t cook because he can. He just can’t teach other people to cook. But don’t tell him I said that.” Remus snorts.

“As if you haven’t already told him that to his face.”

“You know me too well,” Sirius sighs.

After dinner, Sirius goes to shower and Remus continues unpacking boxes. The more boxes he unpacks, the more he realises how much crap they’re missing. But he’s not too worried about it. They’ll go to the store tomorrow and find whatever it is that they’re missing. It’s nothing essential. The only essential thing to Remus in this house is Sirius. As long as Sirius is here, Remus would be fine.

Remus opens another box with a utility knife. He looks inside and his jaw drops.

“Rem?” Sirius asks, coming into the room, his hair still wet from the shower. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Remus says. “Look at this.” He takes out the contents of the box and sets them on the table. It’s photos. Loads of photos of them from school.

“Wow,” Sirius says, looking through the photos. “Oh my god.” He holds one of the photos out to Remus laughing. Remus looks at the photo and starts laughing too. It’s him sitting next to a dog, a stag and a rat. His friends in their animagus forms and him in the middle, smiling awkwardly as Lily takes a photo.

They spent a little longer looking through the photos, laughing at how much they had changed since the first day they’d met each other in first year. They all looked so little. And now… well, now they’re grown up. Remus didn’t feel like it though.

He returned the photos to the box, deciding he’d find a place for them tomorrow. He was reaching another box when Sirius took his hand.

“Come to bed, darling,” he said. “It’s nearly midnight and you’re still unpacking boxes.”

“Yeah, okay,” Remus said. He smiled and laced his fingers with Sirius’.

He showered and put on a massive sweater (despite it being midsummer) and clambered into their new bed, where Sirius was already waiting for him. Sirius pulled him in and kissed his forehead before resting his head against Remus’ chest.

As they cuddle in their brand new bed, in their brand new apartment, Remus is overcome by the urge to tell Sirius, to just say it. To say what he wanted to say months ago on their anniversary but had been too afraid. He doesn’t even care if Sirius says it back. He just wants to say the words. He wants Sirius to know. Sirius deserves to know.

He lifts Sirius’ chin with his hand so their eyes meet as he brushes his thumb against Sirius’ cheek.

“I love you,” he says.

“I– I–” Sirius stutters.

“And you don’t have to say it back or anything,” Remus assures him. “I just wanted you to know.” Tears spill from Sirius’ eyes.

“You’re crying?” Remus said, sounding concerned. “What’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“No, nothing wrong, I just—” Sirius hesitates, sniffing. “That’s the first time anyone’s told me that,” he admits.

“That’s a shame,” Remus says, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I’ll always remind you how much I love you. I love you so much, Sirius.” He pulls Sirius into a tight hug. “You deserve so much love.” Sirius kisses him softly. It’s a quiet, gentle kiss, tears still flowing freely down Sirius’ face.

“I love you too,” Sirius whispers.

“You don’t have to say it just because I did,” Remus says.

“I’m not,” Sirius said. “I really do love you.” Remus smiles as he feels the blush blooming on his cheeks. And suddenly he can’t remember what was holding him back in the first place. He feels like an idiot for waiting so long to say this. He loves Sirius. He loves Sirius with all of his heart and he’s going to make sure Sirius knows it.