#so i went to office hours to make up the experiment from thursday but she wouldn’t let me do the tuesday one

[steviescrystals]

the last post i reblogged just reignited my rage over something that happened my freshman year of college so mini rant in the notes lol

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 2 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Anna knows her new coworkers want her to meet their friend Bob. But she's too hesitant, afraid to get herself in a situation where she's pining after someone new. During a spur of the moment shopping trip, Bob is delighted to bump into a woman he can only describe as adorable. Too bad he's never been great at the follow through.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

By the end of her first week teaching, Anna had learned many things, almost like she was a student herself. That nice, secluded ladies' restroom she found was secluded because one of the toilets regularly overflowed. The coffee in the teacher's lounge was actually disgusting, but the donuts were available every day. And Dr. Pham from the sociology department asked her out three times on Thursday, apparently because she wore her hair in two braids like Princess Anna from Frozen, a mistake she wouldn't be making again.

And she was so tired. She started to lose her voice on Friday morning from how much she had to talk in her lectures. She took the wrong notes to class with her and had to improvise an hour long class on Emily Dickinson, because she was too afraid to give one of her students the keys to her office door. So she sweated it out, but managed to sound somewhat coherent as she dismissed her class at noon.

She pressed her lips together. If she ran to get her sandwich and peanuts really quickly, she could join her new friends by the weird tree. After two days of joining them for lunch, she really liked both of them. She just didn't want to get their hopes up about their friend Bob whom she was supposedly perfect for.

Anna wasn't perfect for anybody. And frankly this Bob guy sounded like a dreamboat, which just made it worse. He'd probably laugh after taking one look at her, and if she opened her mouth and tried to talk to him, he'd run away scared. She already turned down their invitation to go to the Navy hangout bar on Saturday night, citing that she was too exhausted. But it was really because she needed to stand firm with herself and do everything she could to protect her feelings from now on. 

After another few seconds of contemplation, she went to her office and got her lunch before heading to the quad. But today it was just Jessica there eating lasagna and garlic bread from a plastic container while Anna's stomach growled in jealousy. 

"Hi," she greeted after she chewed up a bite of her perfect looking lunch. "It's just us today. Dr. Rosenthal apparently had a bunch of questions about the math curriculum and took Advanced Calculus out for a long working lunch at Covewood."

Anna had barely been in the city for more than two weeks, but even she had heard of Covewood. "That's a five star restaurant. A romantic date night hot spot."

"Mmhmm," Jessica agreed as she sunk her perfect teeth into the garlic bread.

Anna realized her own experience was fueling her next sentences, but she said them anyway. "Isn't she married? Her husband is okay with that?" she asked softly.

Advanced Physics burst into laughter. "Bradley loves Dr. Rosenthal. He's in his seventies, and he's one of the sweetest people at the school. They have him over for dinner sometimes. He actually did my tenure review."

"Oh," Anna replied, embarrassed that she could hardly relate to someone who trusted their spouse. "That actually sounds really nice."

"Hey, are you sure you don't want to come out tomorrow night? No pressure. I just think you'd have a fun time. The guys are all sweethearts."

Anna looked down at herself and her sad sandwich. She didn't even have money to spare for a beer that she would probably drink half of before she wanted to leave. And it didn't matter if the guys were sweet, she knew her two new friends would be champing at the bit to see how she and this Bob person interacted. "Not this weekend," she replied. "Maybe another night."

Instead of socializing, she spent her Saturday window shopping in North Park. She had a budget of exactly zero dollars, but she could entertain herself for hours this way. She gasped when she found a two story bookshop that claimed it contained new and used and rare finds, and she ran across the street to get to it. 

It was darker and quieter inside than the sunlit, traffic filled streets, and when Anna took a deep breath, it reminded her of a cozy library. The clerk behind the register waved instead of speaking, so really, it just kept getting better. When she noticed the wooden sign on the wall informing her that The Classics were upstairs, she made her way up the creaky steps to a loft area with row after row of tall shelves. 

"Perfect," she muttered, walking to the end of the open space and turning down the last tight row of bookshelves. She wasn't alone, but the only other occupant was a tall, slim man with broad shoulders and tidy, sandy colored hair. He seemed to be so absorbed by what he was reading, he didn't look up when Anna reached for an enormous copy of Shakespeare plays.

She almost moaned out loud; it was annotated and contained every play she had to teach in her Thursday morning English 300 class. It was well worn, and the cover felt nice in her hands. Shit. Of course it was seventy bucks. That was more than she spent on groceries last week. Maybe she could expense it to the department? She should probably know how to do that. Maybe she could text one of her new friends and ask if that was allowed. 

But she slid the book back into place as a Vonnegut she didn't yet own caught her eye. She reached out for it with a steady hand, but as soon as her fingertips met the spine, a much larger hand, complete with graceful yet calloused fingers, wrapped around hers. Everything suddenly smelled clean like soap and also intriguingly like tea leaves. And then she heard a voice next to her ear that made her bite down on her lip as a ripple of pleasure teased her spine. 

"Oh. I'm so sorry."

--------------------------

Bob had never been to this store before, and he wasn't really planning on stopping by today, but Mickey dragged him in and then ditched him for the children's section at the back of the store. Bob looked around downstairs, but as a poetry fan, he found that section to be seriously lacking, so he headed up to the loft instead.

He considered himself well-read until he realized how many classic novels he'd never even heard of before. And they all sounded really depressing. Which was kind of the point, he supposed, but if he was going to get something new to read, he was in the mood for a more upbeat story. Maybe a romance or a European adventure he could get lost in. Maybe a sweeping, romantic tale where the nice guy gets the girl for once. 

After several tries, he still wasn't finding anything close to what he was hoping for. As he re-shevled The Bell Jar, he decided to just reach for a book at random. Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut? Maybe that would be more his speed. But when he reached for it, his fingers wrapped around a soft hand complete with glossy, burgundy fingernails instead of the actual book. He jumped an inch in the air, because he hadn't even been aware anyone else was in the aisle with him, let alone a woman who smelled like sweet perfume.

"Oh. I'm so sorry," he stammered, already mortified. Then she turned to look at him over her shoulder, and he wanted to jump off the loft railing and run out the shop door. There was only one word to accurately describe her: adorable. She had dark red hair done up in a messy braid, big brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose. "Oh."

"It's okay," she replied softly as she tried to hand him the book. "You can have it."

He shook his head, completely distracted, as he kept finding more things about her face that he liked. A grin curled along his lips as he said, "No, it's all yours. Really. I was just looking for something new to read."

She glanced down at the cover and then back at his face, and maybe he was imagining things, but it looked like she was blushing a bit. "Wow. I wasn't really expecting anyone else to be interested in reading a sarcastic take on global destruction on a sunny Saturday afternoon."

His eyebrows shot up. "Is that what it's about?"

Her laughter was also adorable. "Yeah, I mean... it's Vonnegut," she said with a bit of an eye roll. Oh no. She knew what she was talking about, and he kind of didn't. He was probably about to sound like an idiot. 

Bob cleared his throat and pointed at a random spine to buy himself time. "What's this one about?"

She cocked her head slightly to the side and said, "Two murders and a kidnapping."

"Oh," he said with a little laugh. "No thanks. How about this one?"

He wasn't even looking at the books now at all, preferring to watch her facial expression change as she checked another title. "Oh, that one's good. Also about murder."

He chuckled and pointed at another. "This one?"

She smirked and looked up at him. "Jealousy, rage, hatred, and also a lot of murder."

"Wow," Bob replied with what he was sure was a stupid looking smile. "I was hoping for something a little tamer? Perhaps less murder-y? Maybe I should go down and look in the children's section?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and listened to her laugh again.

"I could recommend a few books with little to no murder. Maybe even a happy ending," she told him, and he watched as she pushed her braid over her shoulder. 

"I'll believe it when I see it," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. To his shock and amazement, her gaze followed his movement, and her blush returned.

When her tongue darted out between her lips, Bob could feel his heart beating in his temples. Her brown eyes drifted back up to his face, and he wondered if this was how Jake or Bradley used to feel when girls paid attention to them at the bar. It was decidedly really exciting. 

He was going to be bold like his friends. He was going to ask her for her number. Maybe he'd see if she wanted to help him shop for some books, and he could buy her that horrible Vonnegut that she wanted, and then he'd ask her very nicely for her number. 

"Floyd!"

Bob watched you jump as Mickey's voice echoed through the store.

"Floyd! Let's go!"

"S-Sorry," Bob muttered, stepping past her and heading for the loft railing. "Just... hang on for one second?"

As soon as Mickey looked up and saw him, he said, "We gotta go, man. I got some books for my nephews, but we'll be late to grab a drink before D&D if we don't leave now. You know how she gets when we're late." He was shaking a bag of books and heading for the door.

Bob did know for a fact that Jessica got annoyed when they showed up late because they got hungry or distracted on the way to The Hard Deck. "Just give me a minute," he told Mickey, but he was already outside. 

He swiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and turned around to find the aisle empty. Oh no. He checked the next row of shelves, and the next, and the next, until he got all the way to the stairs, but the adorable redhead was nowhere to be found. And he had no idea what her name was. 

"Hello?" he called out softly, checking each aisle again until he was back where he started. Bob might have believed that he imagined the whole entire exchange with an attractive woman, except that there was one book propped up against the others right where he and she had been standing. 

"A Room With a View by E. M. Forster," he mumbled as he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. He glanced around again, but she was well and truly gone, leaving nothing except for what seemed like a book recommendation. 

"Floyd!"

Bob sighed and tipped his head back in frustration. "Coming!"

He descended the stairs slowly, head swiveling in every direction, searching for brown eyes and a braid while he held the book. Gone. He paid for A Room With a View and headed outside to find Mickey looking quite annoyed. What he didn't see was the mystery girl watching him from the far end of the loft.

-----------------------

"She was real," Bob insisted as he held his glass of ginger ale a little tighter. "Just because you were too busy yelling doesn't mean I made her up in my mind. She had red hair and brown eyes."

Mickey gave him a skeptical look. "That's actually a really rare combination. And I know for a fact you happen to have an excellent imagination, my friend."

Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Why didn't I ask for her name and number?" Then he paused. "You know what? It doesn't even matter. There's no way she would have agreed to give it to me." 

He thought about the book he bought sitting on the front seat of his truck next to his dice bag and character sheet, and he considered just going home for the night. Maybe he could start to read the book. Maybe he'd feel like writing.

Then he felt an arm slip around his waist. "Hi, Jessica," he said as he blushed when he looked down at Jake's petite girlfriend. A second later, Bradley's wife was next to him as well, and Bob realized they were wearing matching smirks.

"Hey, Bob," Jessica replied, giving him a little squeeze. "We were just wondering if you happened to like redheads."

Mickey snickered before he tipped his beer bottle back and finished the drink. "He loves them. Daydreams about them."

Bob shot him a withering look. "She was real."

"Who was real?" Bradley's wife asked as her husband came up behind her and set his chin on her shoulder. Great, now he was going to have a full audience of people informed about his embarrassing afternoon of not even knowing how to ask a woman what her name was.

"There was a cute girl at the bookstore in North Park earlier," he muttered. "She had red hair, and I fumbled the ball."

Bradley chuckled. "You know what your problem is, right? You're too nice. Sugar met me when I was an absolute fuckboy, and she fell hard."

"I've been having a decade long lapse of judgement," she replied, and Bradley kissed her neck. "Don't listen to him, Bob. Girls love nice guys."

But Bob knew they didn't. Even the woman from the bookstore dodged him after approximately five minutes of flirting. If you could even call that flirting. He finished his ginger ale, and said, "We need to go. It's almost time for D&D. I'll drive."

Mickey nodded and said, "I'm ready." He could probably tell Bob had reached his limit with this conversation. His friend may be an extrovert to the extreme, but he was good at recognizing when Bob needed a break.

Jessica nodded as well and patted him on the chest before she pranced off into Jake's open arms. They shared the most adorable looking kisses before Jake straightened out her glasses and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Have her home by midnight, Bob!" he called as he released her. 

Bob nodded wishing there was someone besides the elderly woman who lived in the duplex next to him that cared if he was out past midnight or not. Even though he always looked forward to playing Dungeons & Dragons, he kind of wanted to head home and call it an early night. Nothing sounded as good as sending an email to Nat before reading his new book. But he would wait until later, and maybe he would even be in the mood to get his laptop out.

-----------------------

Anna went back to her studio apartment empty handed. Well, that wasn't quite true. She didn't buy any books, but she did splurge on a six dollar bottle of wine which would probably taste disgusting. She just hoped it would help her sleep through the night after reading some sad poetry and eating a piece of toast for dinner. 

That guy from the bookstore was going to linger in her mind for a long time whether she wanted him to or not. She was more attracted to him after five minutes in his presence than she was to Kevin at any point in the past five years. And if she was going to start thinking about Kevin, she was probably going to cry. 

The toast was good, but the wine was bad. And she did cry a little bit. She was never going to get attached to the idea of being in a relationship ever again. She was never going to have herself that level of intimacy just to have it ripped away. She wouldn't allow it. Relying on herself would have to be enough. Handsome strangers with muscular, veiny arms and cute glasses who made her laugh were not part of the plan. That's why she ducked behind the end cap after she left him a book she thought he might like. She watched him buy it for himself, which left her almost breathless. If she allowed herself to, she could picture him sitting in a coffee shop sipping some tea and reading that book.

"Enough," she whispered, vision a little sloppy from the wine. She opened up the website called PoetsAmongUs, read a bookmarked collection about how good it would feel to be loved completely, and passed out. 

The realization that she was going to have to spend all of Sunday afternoon getting ready for the week was made slightly easier by the fact that she only had four hundred square feet of space to clean. And then she thought about the beautiful home she once had in New Jersey, and she had to finish the bottle of wine to help her get through her notes on The Great Gatsby.

She was still thinking about that hot guy with the glasses on Monday when she grabbed a donut from the teacher's lounge. Indulging in a little fantasy here and there about being loved and cared for wouldn't be so bad. And putting his face to it just made it even sexier. When she wasn't teaching, she let her mind wander to some possibilities that would never happen again. Pretty eyes, lean muscles, soft looking hair, pink cheeks. He probably had nice friends, too. He probably never cheated on anything in his life.

"Hey, Anna? Are you alright?"

She looked up from her bag of peanuts and realized she'd been so deep in thought, she wasn't paying attention to the lunch conversation. "I'm sorry," she replied, fighting the urge to groan. She wasn't very good at this stuff and should have probably just eaten lunch in her office like she did the past few days. The fact that it was Wednesday and she was still distracted was concerning to her. 

"Don't apologize. You just seem lost in thought," said Jessica as she ate another perfect looking lunch. 

"Do you want some chips and hummus? Bradley packed me too much food today," her other friend said. And of course he did, because he sounded like a damn dream.

Anna ate a few chips and sighed. "Have either of you ever had your heart smashed to bits?" She didn't really mean to say that out loud, but now that she had, she was met with an awkward silence that she wanted to run away from. 

"Yeah," Advanced Calculus replied softly. "And I did it to myself."

"Not my heart as much as my hopes and dreams," Advanced Physics added. "But for me, I think that was much worse."

Now the silence that followed wasn't quite as painful, but Anna was still a little embarrassed. "Yeah. All of the above." She cleared her throat and tried to think of something else to talk about, but her mind was still on the bookstore. "Hey, why didn't you tell me that San Diego is full of hot guys? They are literally everywhere. I went window shopping in North Park and got sucked into a bookstore, and I bumped into a guy with glasses who smelled so nice."

"Ohhh, what did he look like?"

Anna sighed. "You know how you can just tell a guy is really strong even though he doesn't have bulging muscles?"

"Mmhmm."

"He was like that." Anna bit into her sandwich and chewed it slowly. "Pretty eyes, kind of the color of a lake. Sandy hair. Wire glasses. Soft spoken. He smelled like a cup of tea." 

A few seconds later, she was snapped back from her drifting thoughts as Advanced Calculus asked, "Did you say this was at a bookstore in North Park?"

"Yes," Anna replied with a nod. 

"Did you get his name?" Advanced Physics asked. 

"No," she answered, still embarrassed over the fact that she hid from him.

And then she thought she was going to get whiplash again.

"Was he about six feet tall?"

"Was he slim but not skinny?"

"Did he blush when he smiled?"

"Will you please come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"

--------------------------

Bradley is so proud of the fact that Sugar fell for him when they were in college. Beer Boy just gets better with age. This little Bob and Anna meet cute might spell disaster when they figure it all out! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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[crmsnmth]

September Sky Chapter Two, Part 5

"Yeah, he got here, like, an hour ago?" That was Amber's only flaw. The word like. Yeah, I get she was young and that seems to be one of those things with every generation, but it always drove me nuts then. It drives me nuts now. Anybody else does that, I'm liable to just walk away. And then people think I'm rude, not knowing walking away is better than letting out my inner asshole. I don't like letting that out. I like it too much. And that scares me.

"Oh cool. This been it since you've been in?" I motioned around the room.

"Pretty much. And they were done eating when I got in. So about a half hour of making whiskey cokes." Amber liked her job. When she got to be what she thought a bartender was. She should've been working at seem theme bar, where the bartenders have stupid games and stupid little dances. Not making the same five drinks for the same five type of people that came here.

The five types? First dates; we're affordable for the type of food we put out. Be fancy without actually being fancy. Show off without destroying any chance to do anything for the rest of your night.

Celebration tables: some kid just aced his dissertation, so the friends and family wanted to celebrate. At least once every couple of weeks we have a table of at least ten people. And a lot of those times, these people don't understand how to make a reservation.

Quick business meetings: even on the edges of Riverwest and the Eastside, there sat the people who wore three-piece suits to work and made deals with five digits at the least. They ate fast, efficient and never left a mess. Or a good tip.

The tourist; this person has no idea how they got here. They wandered in somehow, and just said fuck it. They'll stick with the flow. They'll love the place for the night, and usually their waitress got a pretty bad ass tip from them. Tourists, are honestly the best to work for. I love them. No matter what, they will love the food. They care about nothing but the experience.

And finally, the middle-aged date night; these are depressing to watch. Two people who at one point loved each other and got married. Now they've gotten old, and busy, and life isn't this bright and full of opportunities. The spark died, and they don't want to admit it. So they try every trick in the book. And one of those, and it never worked, was weekly date nights. And every so often, they would show up here.

Those were the main five types. I mean there were other sorts that came in. But those were the five. The table right now, drinking? Business meeting that apparently went very well.

We clacked our shot glasses together and downed them. Amber made a gross face. She never was a fan of whiskey, and I was not a fan of vodka, which was usually her choice. I, on the other hand, enjoyed the smooth shot. Good whiskey is good whiskey.

I hopped off the stool. "I'll talk to you later. I should go see what Skeletor is doing." I said, grabbing my jacket and heading for the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the rest of the building.

"See you later," Amber said, going back to marrying bottles and wiping a spotless bar down even more than she needed.

"Skeletor!" I shouted as I came into the kitchen. I was officially and fully in the work part of my personality. The loudness, the living. The things you have to be to be a good manager.

"'Sup!" He shouted back from the line. He was there, a black t-shirt and blue jeans covered with a black apron. An apron that stopped above his knees. We only had one apron that fit him and it had gotten covered by a spilt pot of tomato sauce. Our laundry was done on Thursday nights, so he'd always have it on the weekend. Maybe you don't think of how your kitchen looks, but we do, and we do have the uniform. Burns and cuts lining the forearms. Pen or pencil in the ear. A sauce covered apron covering our clothes,

"How we standing?" I asked, walking into the back office, where the three desks stood. One was mine, the most covered in paper and it looked very messy to the untrained eye. But I knew where everything actually was so don't fucking touch it. Angela's desk was spot less and clean. Not a paper clip out of place. Just like her. We didn't get along all that well. And then Amber's desk. It was covered in little nick-nacks that she'd brought in. Even her laptop had a dorky sticker on it. I threw my jacket on the desk, grabbed an apron and headed back to where Justin was chopping up an onion.

[filminah]

work experience (pt 2!)

on my third day i had three new supervisors! the main one was the owner of the law firm who turned not to be not very intimidating like i thought he would be! he was very fun and nice! and he bought everyone in the office food which was really nice but i couldn't eat it because it wasn't halal :( he offered to go out again and buy me something but there was no way i was making my boss do that. he knew everyone in the magistrates court and i was supposed to see some of the clients with him in the cells but they denied me because i'm too young :// thursday i wrote letters to clients, did some general paperwork, looked at case files and made everyone tea and coffee. the main task that day was a review from a teacher at school which was generally favourable! and my supervisors gave us good reports aswell! i had also gone to youth court that day but it was mainly sitting around since i wasn't allowed inside the court - there was lawyer who was 70 years old who i spoke with in the waiting room, he was actually not far into his career as a lawyer as he decided to become one around the age of 40 which i thought was really coolll. then once all the youth cases were handled my supervisor and i got locked out the office so we played squares in the rain on my notepad, then i drew phoenix wright and thumbtacked it to the main board on the wall!. friday i went on a trip to leamington with another supervisor! leamington is really different to my town, i almost walked into a police station because it looked so done up i thought it was the crown court building! they had soo many good songs on the radio that day, i think i spoke a bit too much though, my supervisor was quite sad from something personal that had happened to her so i just kept talking and trying to cheer her up because she looked like she was constantly on the verge of tears, i think she's really amazing for still coming into work despite everything happening to her. the crown court in leamington is really different to the magistrates court where i live - in the magistrates court the public viewing place is just a few chairs at the back of the room but in the crown court, its a whole seperate place with microphones and a tv screen - i got let off early that day because there quite literally nothing for me to do, i wish i had just stayed there anyways for a few more hours because i kinda miss it, i'm really thankful i had such a good placement! sorry this post is a week late, i thought i had queued it but it turns out it's been sitting in my drafts, since that was the most eventful thing that happened in feb i think i won't make a february roundup since i've already told you everything until next time! Amina

[haloburns]

had some free time to think today and i just. got really sad about the life i used to think i was going to have before i became disabled

(whoops this turned into a Journal Entry, so im putting it beneath a read more sry lmao)

like. i had plans to travel europe and work in cafes and stay out too late in clubs with my new friends and then stumble in to open the cafe with my clothes from the night before and smeared makeup. and like, maybe thats a weird dream to have, but id spent so long in this tiny little box in my hometown (kinda. its complicated bc ive lived where i am now longer than the place i was born, but my birthplace will always be my hometown, to me.) so i was reaching for experiences so drastically different from the life id known.

but then i went to college out of state. 10h from home, almost in canada. and i did spend a good chunk of my first two years partying exactly like i described: work until 8/9, go home eat something fatty and greasy, change into smth slutty and cool, and go out with my friends and stay out until the wee hours, making out and dancing with whoever asked. two one night stands came of it, both embarrassing for different reasons (thats a whole different post lmao but i dont regret either, actually) but i had so much fun. i felt free. like i could truly be myself for the first time in my life

and then i became disabled.

(caveat: ive probably been disabled my whole life, but i simply. never noticed. i didnt know it wasnt normal to be in pain, because i didnt know what 'pain-free' meant. it wasnt until i started making diasbled and crippled friends that they made me realize that living at a 4/5 on the pain scale All The Time is in fact not normal)

i got a terrible cold my first thanksgiving. spent the entire break on the couch in the lounge sniffling and coughing, trash can, tissues, hand sanitizer, and lotion all right next to me because i was DETERMINED not to get anyone sick (context: this was pre covid. wearing masks was like. not a thought.) despite everyone having gone home/away for the break. i got my first (and only) case of viral pink eye. i had bronchitis until april. that same january, while i still had bronchitis, my knees suddenly swelled up so badly i couldnt move for two days. my knees have ached almost daily since then.

from there, it was simply a cascade failure of things. fingers and wrist hurt constantly, no matter what i did or what brace i wore. (hint: i ended up having de quervaines tenosynovitis and had to have surgery bc it went untreated for 5+ years) back was constantly cramping. feet hurt after only a four hour shift. stairs became impossible. i was constantly exhausted, no matter what i did.

then, in december 2020, i was home like everyone else, and i was working in my mom's office full time while also attending classes full time remotely (like everyone else). my mom took a week off. finals week. she left me in charge, since i was the second most senior person in the office with my roughly two years experience. my half sister was demanding to know why our other sister wouldnt talk to her after she borrowed our car to go see our estranged father. again. (we gave her permission to borrow the car, but it still hurt). the exhaustion was getting worse and worse until thursday of that week. my coworker was threatening to call my mom to come pick me up because i couldnt think, could barely talk, and i was nodding off at my desk. and then my half sister called out of nowhere and wanted to talk. and i was so tired, so done with EVERYTHING, i let her have it. that took the last bit of my energy and i told my coworker to call my mom.

i spent a week in bed with the worst pain in my life. my entire body ACHED. my cat couldnt lay on me because it felt like i was being crushed to death my a bed of needles. my elbow swelled up so badly i could hardly move it. i could barely sit up to eat or stand to go pee. i slept SO MUCH.

i returned to work maybe a week or two after. i maybe finished my classes but i hoenstly dont remember. i moved back up to school in jan/feb with covid restrictions so i could finish my senior year on campus. i couldnt walk to the mail room and back without needing a nap. i couldnt go to starbucks and bring back two coffees without needing a break in the middle of my walk. i went to the health services because something wasnt right.

after some tests and lots of arguing with some shitty doctors and PTs, the light of my life, dr k diagnosed me with chronic fatigue. i finally had an answer for all my issues.

i thought that was it.

that summer, june/july 2021, i developed postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome and fought to get it taken seriously. two er trips with elevated heart rate, brain fog, and high bp, and it took the second trip to have them take me SERIOUSLY and get a referral. the cardiologist told me i was fat and just needed to exercise more, the three heart monitors don't show stereotypical tachycardic events, so im just experiencing elevated heart rates. i was fine. finally convince him to put me on propranolol, the "as needed" dose, and fuck off when he says he wants to work me off them and get me exercising.

i found a doctor who took me seriously and listened when i said "i have x problem. i would like a solution." and gave me referral after referral after referral, chasing more and more diagnoses. she never once made me feel insane for my symptoms, never made me feel unheard, and she never failed to make me cry in relief every time i went to see her and didnt have to fight for just an ounce of care.

since then, ive been diagnosed with moderate asthma, psoriasis, fibromyalgia, and potentially (almost assuredly) hypermobile ehlers-danlos syndrome. (for those of you keeping track, thats six diagnoses in four years) dr m, my savior, retired this year, and ive found a new doctor im hoping i can teach to treat me with the same care and respect. shes already given me a second referral to gastroenterology for my stomach issues (which... might just be from too much ibuprofen... :) rip me) and neurology bc my migraines that have crippled me for upwards of a month before are no longer being managed by my meds and i need something more specific before i start new meds. she said shed find me a doctor to dx heds, bc shes still new and wasnt comfortable with the tests required and didnt want to do it wrong, which endears her to me just a little more

but all of ^^^ that is just a big winding way to say that my life has changed a LOT since i graduated high school. i can no longer stand for long periods of time. i cant lift more than maybe 5-10lbs, and i certainly cant carry it for any significant length of time. i get migraines so easily. my joints slip out of place if i step wrong. i cant go out one night and expect to be up and at'em early the next day. i have to weigh my energy vs what i want to get done vs what needs to get done, and most days, nothing gets done at all.

and sometimes, usually when i get a new diagnosis and a new complication to my life, i mourn the life i used to dream about for myself. i mourn the things ive had to lose out on because my reality has changed so drastically. i cant go to amusement parks anymore. i cant go to standing-room-only concerts. i cant go to the grocery by myself. and you can forget doing things like wandering through the mall to kill time or going for a leisurely walk around the park.

being disabled is not the worst thing to happen to me, and i dont think im damaged or broken or anything like that. despite all the pain and complications and accomodations i have and need, i love myself the way i am. after all, i am now the funniest fucking person in ANY room. i dont think i want it back, because i love the life i have now (meaningful volunteer work, a dnd group i love, and a partner i thank the stars for regularly). but sometimes, its hard not to mourn the life i thought id have

[grigs1lk]

Social Media Experiment

I am not an avid social media user but I am pretty tied to my phone when it comes to texts, emails, and news (local and global). When I was tracking my social media usage earlier this month, I was fairly happy with how much I use my phone and social media. I rarely post on Facebook or Instagram these days so that was not really a problem for me. I still haven't made a social media post all week. However, I do work in an office so I am on a computer for almost 8 hours a day during the week, then with my classes I'm on a computer a lot outside of work as well.

For this experiment, going a full 24 hours straight without using any technology was not an option for me so I had to break it up. However, I was able to go most of Thursday without it. I started on Friday and decided not to use my phone while I was at work at all. I told my husband and my daughter the night before that I wouldn't be using my phone so if it was an emergency they could call me at work. They didn't thankfully. I turned my phone off on Thursday night and instead of using my alarm in the morning, I had my daughter wake me up once she was done taking a shower. Once I got to work, it was immediately hard but not because of social media or anything, but because I listen to a book or music while I'm working. My desktop at work doesn't have Bluetooth so I couldn't listen through my work computer without everyone in the office hearing me. The next part that became hard was during my lunch break. That is usually when I use my phone the most during work, especially since I have an hour for lunch. However, I knew that would happen so I brought a book with me to work that day and read in my office with the door closed. The rest of work on Thursday was ok because I was pretty busy in the afternoon with meetings that the time passed pretty quickly. Once I got home from work on Thursday, I used my phone for about an hour because I had some phone calls that I had to return. For Thursday I went 12 hour without using my phone; 6:30am to 6:30pm. Friday, I did the same thing in the morning, skipped my alarm and had my daughter wake me up when she was done getting ready. I turned my phone off the night before and left it on my desk all of Friday morning. We had a groundbreaking event for a housing project and normally I would be taking photos and videos but I decided that there would be enough people at the event that they could send me the pictures and videos if I asked. I had some things to pick up for the event and a colleague tried to call me to ask me to get something extra but I didn't have my phone so that created a bit of a problem but once I got to the site I had enough time to run to the store and grab what we needed. I forgot to tell my colleagues I was doing this experiment so they were a little worried when I didn't answer but it all worked out. I got off work early on Friday and once I got home I found it hard not to take out my phone and play Sim City on it. Then I thought to clean my house but realized I couldn't listen to music or a book without my phone but I had already started so I finished the job. That was the hardest part of the whole 24 hours. I was going to pick my daughter up from school instead of making her ride the bus but I didn't want to turn my phone on and let her know I was coming to get her so I decided to just let her ride the bus. Once my daughter got home we decided to go see "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" play and I told my husband that I was leaving my phone at home and to call Z if he needed anything. Once we got back home, my twelve hours were up.

I realized that I am completely dependent on my phone to entertain me throughout the day with either books or music. I already knew I wasn't tied to social media, but I didn't realize how hard it would be to do my job or clean my house without a book or music. I could have played it through my laptop or Alexa, but I felt like that was cheating so I refrained but it was pretty difficult. Right now I am remodeling my house so I have an apartment for the short-term so my record player is at my house and I was really wishing I had it with me. I also found myself taking breaks from work to switch tabs and got to the NPR website or some other news source to be caught up on the news. Normally, I get a bunch of notifications from different news outlets and I feel up to date.

Even with the anxiety I felt not being able to listen to music or books during work and while cleaning, I found that I am fairly happy with my screen time during the day. I average about 4 hours of screen time per day and it's mostly listening to books, music, or reading the news. In the future, I would like to be better about not "doom scrolling" immediately upon waking up. Usually, I wake up, listen to NPR, and then get ready when my daughter is done getting ready. I have to admit, it felt good to have her wake me up rather than my annoying alarm and then immediately start reading news after waking up. I honestly don't know why I do that to myself, but it's just something that I do.

[ramrodd]

How does Dante Alighieri portray himself in Purgatorio?

COMMENTARY: 

I read The Divine Comedy before I went to Vietnam, so my sense of the narrative has probably changed,

For example, the firey pits never held much terror for me when I was in college and the cultural wars were going on around me and I just kept my head down and tried to make grades until I was commissioned so I could go to Vietnam and soldier.

Well, I understand “firel pits’ differently now that I have been close enough napalm to feel the air being sucked out of my  lungs, very softly, around the edges, but there, big time, and felt the heat brush my cheek like a mother stroking her child’s sleeping face.

Troops who employed napalm on a regular basis talk about how the “Crispy Critters” dance, trying to get of the flame.

“The Flames, they followed Joan of Arc/As she came riding through the dark”.

That’s a line Hank Williams could have wrote. Burning at the stake was a particularly cruel if usual way o die. There is a great line in a Bob Lee Swagger novel about a RVN political officer talking about facing napalm with an officer who faced it constantly as a CO of an NVA battalion fight Bob Lee in A Shau or some other pleasure spot and the political officer says “It is terrible, but it is over in an instant;.” and the front fighter considers the ignorance of the comment and responds “Yes, but it is a long minute.”

That’s what the Total Depravity Gospel dwells on, the terrors of Hell, the firey pit” which is all Calvanism business model: Fear of Hell and Hatred as Righteousness. It’s why Hegel rejected it. Hell for Jesus lasted from the moment Judas kissed Him until just before the 7th hours of the day, He had been in Roman custody from sunrise, Maudy Thursday until just before the 7th hour, the next day, Friday. the last 8, stung up like a butterfly in a serial killer collection. The centurion in charge confessed to His divinity, although his actual initial response was “Oops1”

Jesus was acting out a unilateral covenant cutting ceremony between God and the Roman centurion with His own blood the baptism. Hell, as a reality, in the Divine Comedy sense of the word, is tres Jean Paul Satre, That’s the whole point of No Exit? We are already in Hell: death will be our only memorial on the critical path of the narrative of the Bible. Hell is Existential. But  That’s what those crosses everybody likes to hang from their ears: Life is just a very long instant.

But, then there’s bagels and things could be worse.

So, if I was inclined to go back and read Dante’s self-examination again, I might flinch more at things he describes before my experience of napalm

Now, when I think about Clausewitz, napalm is at the core of the paradox. As Sherman observed, War is all brutality: there is no refining it”  When he observed “War is Hell”, he had Dante in mind.

My impression of Dante as he stepped unto the boat was as a kid on a Disney World theme adventures . I cannot always capture the drama of what I am reading unless I hear someone reading it. like listening to mom reading me into lay me down to sleep and the blankie of sleep. So, in college, I about tripled my reading, I rad all my text books, cover to cover. I don’t memorize stuff, but sort of collect the pollination of the thinking available by reading. By the end of Paradiso, I checked it off as read like after reading Capital. IT was a slog, like reading Atlas Shrugged, but I persevered. With Dane, I was dealing with a translation and the poetry was evident to me entirely by the verse structure. I knew I was doing poetry, but it didn’t sing to me.

I believe that Dante wanted to portray himself as authentically penetrant  . It’s a conceit of the Total Depravity Gospel than my joy at being rid of Total Depravity as an act of following all the rules.  Dante wasn’t an Evangelical in the Campus Crusade for Christ sense of the word, but the TULIP is the restoration of the Total Depravity Gospel of the Roman Catholic Confession, which Martic Luther gave up when he posted his 95 Thesis. It’s the gospel of the anti-Christ. Dante’s Hell is what is going on the spiritual realm of human society, what we do to each other and what we do to ourselves, that defines Hell. It is an element of the Human Condition,

Dante’s Hell is like Revelation, a portrait of the spiritual realm occurring around him in the same way the  betrayal of Jesus by corrupt theology is connected, cause and effect, to the Jewish Wars of  Josephus. Josephus was a Judas to all the people who had invested their trust in him. What he did is identical to Edward Snowden, then made a career of his treachery, like Edward Snowden. But it is essential to understand Josephus and his zeit geist in the same manner as to understand Dante and Inferno as a reflection of the Existential Reality of his Zeit Geist. And=, the that manner, abstract out their universal qualities in a Aristotelian fashion.  

In short, I had no sense that Dante’s Pucker Factor was engaged. He allowed himself to be passively transported by Virgil along th4e Way, although he does take satisfaction from the punishment of certain people still alive at the time it was published. But the conceit is that it is really Virgil’s idea.

I may get an audio book of Inferno just to see what it sounds like now.  Dante is an entertainer, doing a certain kind of performance art not unlike Andy Warhol, doing Campbell’s Soup graphics.

There is a difference between a mother who rushes into a burning building to save her baby and a fire fighter who enters into a burning building to save the mother and the baby. The fire is the same for both of them. Since George McGovern was nominated for President, the collective political wisdom of American’s understanding of Clausewitz reflects the sentimental impulse of the mother rushing into a burning building when the US Constitution is based on an understanding of Clausewitz based on napalm.

Dante’s Inferno needs to be understood in terms of the Existential basis of Hell as the essence of the Human Condition and the Total Depravity Gospel. Hegel and Kant reject this artifact of the anti-Christ of Jerusalem and present a Phenomenology of Spirit based on  irresistible Grace reflected in the relationship between the Sun and a Field of Sunflowers.

Dante is halfway through his ‘three score and ten” and having something of a midlife crises. The Hebrews were the first society to assume history was going somewhere. The critical path is defined by the narrative arc of the epistemology that begins with the Book of job and runs through Genesis 13:5 and out beyond Abraham’s horizons. It turns out, the original narrative arc of Job to Genesis ends up in the hands of the Zealots and the destruction of Jerusalem.

But the critical path of the Human Condition tunned on its axis around Genesis 15:5 in a reorientation of Christianity aligned with the social engineering of the Roman Empire, with its administrative state, the Italian Cohort as creatures of the Roman secular rule of law. The narrative thread of the Book of Job ends at the Cross, and shifts to the community structures of the synagogues acting like a dandilion gone to seed and spreading Judaism all over the world.

At 35, Dante begins the rest of his life by looking backwards at where he had come from by walking through the Inferno with Virgil, but the balance of the narrative, Dante turns toward the future and how life can also be the kingdom of Heaven, that the Resurrection of Jesus illuminates the forces of Hell for the puny powers they truly are and, like Jesus, “get thee behind me, Satan” and let’s go get a bagel and coffee and make things better in a “Love thy neighbor as thyself” ethical kind of way.

[steamishot]

xmas 2022 pt 2

on the day after xmas, i called carnival cruise who told me that we are unable to embark on the cruise from cozumel and proceeded to cancel our ticket because there was no way we could make it to nola in time. we were refunded only the taxes & fees, as well as the price for our chichen itza excursion. currently we have to pay our cruise ticket price (~$1800 for two) as a penalty fee. NY state has a regulation where we are unable to utilize carnival’s refund if we did not buy travel insurance from the cruise company. i’m hoping that amex can come to the rescue with trip cancellation insurance. as the department is out of office today, i should have an answer tomorrow. 

we cancelled our very expensive business class ticket to cancun right after we were told that embarkment was impossible. out of desperation and emotions, matt was willing to pay $3k for the tickets if that meant he could cruise with his family. 

after a 4 hour hold on the phone with delta the day after xmas, they issued me a $250 voucher for the inconvenience of missing the cruise. we are hoping for more compensation but it is pending processing from the refunds department and may take up to 30 days for a response. i followed up with delta today via chat (which took a considerably shorter time for a response ~15 minutes) and they again offered apologies and a $150 voucher/person. so far, i am up $550 for the two of us for this flight cancellation and hope i can get more so that all our expenses will be covered lol. 

xmas and the days after xmas turned into scrambling and troubleshooting for the trip. it wasn’t the easiest to communicate because matt was on a different schedule than us. i had to be the bearer of bad news to his family and to him when he woke up that day after night shifts (after only 4 hours of sleep). running on fumes, post-night shifts/80 hour work week recovery and the disappointment of missing a family cruise made this experience very emotional. we booked last minute flights to new orleans to arrive thursday morning and booked a last minute hotel room in the french quarter. also did our best to book restaurants and activities. 

matt always sets out to bite off more than he can chew. its admirable that he always does so much though it comes with extra benefits and extra tolls/stress. the moment that our flight to nola got cancelled, i would have given up, stayed put in nyc, and went straight to amex to try and get our money back. matt (regardless of the fact that he’s working a 12 hr shift until 7am the night before) immediately goes to check for other flights that we can possibly take, from philly, or other routes, to get on the damn cruise. 

f*ck marwa (his boss) for putting him on night shifts yet again. although his contract says 20% of nights, we calculated his nights to be 45% thus far. he finally complained when she put him on nights on the second half of january again. a trip right after night shifts is definitely not enjoyable because you’re basically recovering and reversing the “jet lag” the first few days. anyway, if he was on days, we saw that the flight that we would have taken on xmas night made it to nola soundly. 

nola 2022: the last time i was in nola was right before the pandemic in january 2020. i guess this trip makes it full circle. this time around, i experienced the richer side of nola. we had a rental car last time; this time we ubered or took tours. due to our sleep schedules being off, we only got one hour of sleep before our flight thursday morning. the hotel fortunately allowed us complimentary early check in. we took an uber to eat at blue oaks bbq near city park and trudged over to cafe du monde afterwards. came back to the hotel to nap. that night, we ate at compere lapin. 

on the second day, our steamboat on the mississippi river got delayed and then cancelled. it was pouring rain and they said the boat had mechanical issues. i think the world was telling us that we’re not allowed on any boats that week. we went to eat herbsaint, checked out the sazerac house, and then rode a streetcar to the garden district to eat la petite grocery. all of these restaurants that we were eating were mostly white, “fine dining” establishments. la petite grocery especially was entirely white. it felt interesting to be the only POC. my favorite dish of this trip was the hamachi with pineapple and fried okra from compere lapin.

on the third day (NYE), we met up with matt’s family for a swamp and plantation tour. i did these activities in 2020 but at different locations so it was interesting to compare/contrast. the weather was warmer this time around, so we saw more alligators. i was lucky to see one up close. the plantation’s oak trees are beautiful. the one we went to this time was more commercialized and the experience was more like a museum. after the tour, we checked in to the sonder that i booked for everyone - it was a two bedroom apartment and extremely spacious. i led matt’s dad, brother and cousin in and it was really nice to see their reaction to the space. matt and his mom came in later and she liked it too. matt and i have become the default planners/navigators of trips. he did the majority of the work when it came to booking everyone’s plane tickets, cruise tickets, excursions, hotels, activities, restaurants etc. not only does he book these, but everything has to be up to his standards as good quality and good deal. 

sidebar: we have met his match when it comes to these credit card points/travel hacking, his indian coworker R. R was helping us through this scramble during xmas night shift (tips on converting points to stay at a 5 star resort for cheap, how to email a complaint letter to delta using an AI generator, etc)

NYE evening, we ate at trenasse, which FINALLY was a mixed crowd. we ate the flavors of lousiana (crawfish pie, shrimp and grits, gumbo, oysters, etc) and shared a bottle of wine. the timing worked out perfectly for us to walk over to jackson square to watch the ball drop at midnight. our sonder also provided NYE props for us to wear and matts cousin had some raver necklaces. i think this was my first time ever celebrating new years by actually being out and counting down? the crowd was not at all rowdy and overall it was pretty quiet - i was scared it was going to be very crazy like bourbon st which i can only handle in doses. the fireworks were mesmerizing and the whole experience was really nice. 

all of our uber drivers were friendly and talkative, which is completely different from NYC and most other cities. there were three uber drivers that we had who were talking on the phone on speaker. one was specifically chatting to his baby mama or girlfriend about nye plans and his lost debit card lol. i’ve never seen an uber driver have a full on conversation with passengers in their car. i was a bit apprehensive about all the talking (like i see how covid can spread more easily with this southern hospitality culture) but i started liking it by the end of the trip. 

it usually comes down to: we got to experience really cool and memorable things, but is it worth the extra stress/lack of relaxation and rest? especially when the lack of relaxation and rest impacts the quality of being able to experience said really cool things? is it worth it if the extra stress causes us to be in worse moods and argue more? seeing family also comes with extra responsibilities as we are the adult couple who has more travel experiences and therefore should make the call on a lot of things. 

this month, i am making it a point to only stay in town. we need to learn how to cultivate our lives here, which can be difficult without family and many friends. 

although we have more money now, we are not using it to make our lives less stressful. in fact we are complicating our lives and adding more pressure. with the bougier choices that we are making (to try and make ourselves happier), ie the expensive trips and expensive dinners, there are definitely higher expectations, higher financial pressures and stress, more planning involved (and more opportunities for mishaps to occur), and then then more pressure to work more to fund this lifestyle that you’re too burnt out to enjoy. soooo stupid.

[localsimpmigraine]

Bustin’ Makes Me Feel Good (Egon Spengler x Reader) [18+]

A/N: Hello all! This is my first time posting a fanfic on here so forgive me if it looks janky. I usually only write and keep it private, but everyone seemed hungry for more Egon Spengler fics! So, here is the start of my hard work. If you guys could, please leave suggestions for future "experiments" for Y/N and Egon! And perhaps provide notes or helpful tips if you feel so inclined. warnings: smut, minors dni, unprotected sex (pls use protection I do not condone unprotected sex!!), sex experiments, Possessive!Egon, Gentle!Egon, tiny bit of cunnilingus, dic suck, p in v sex, leaving marks word count: 3,816

Chapter 1: The Start of the Experiment

It was late, and after Janine was done doing her half of the paperwork for the business, she bid you goodnight. You were lagging behind, not sure if it was because you’d only had one cup of coffee or that it was Thursday. You were so close, yet so far from the weekend. But then again, the work at Ghostbusters HQ was never over. Constant calls in the dead of night, explaining why everyone in the office seemed to be in a prolonged state of fatigue. You sighed, filling out forms and organizing them in the filing cabinets at your side. You got up, having a dozen pages left, to go make some coffee and wake yourself up. Once you arrived in the kitchen area, you noticed Egon sipping on his own mug of the dark caffeinated beverage. He had already made a pot. You should’ve expected that of the sleepless scientist, constantly snacking and drinking coffee to continue his research. You grabbed a spare mug from the cabinet, one that was your favorite color, and filled it with hot coffee. You added some creamer and sugar before sitting across the table from the lanky doctor.

“Still running tests?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink quietly, savoring the taste.

“Of course. Our work is never done and there is always more to know,” he said contently, his fingers gently tapping the handle of his mug.

You hypnotically watched his hands, your mind wandering off into the night and leaving your body sitting completely still, your hands around your mug. Once Egon had realized you were dissociating, he moved his mug aside and sat forward, his hand reaching to yours. He knew the risk would be that he would scare you, but he figured the likelihood of that was low considering how sleepy you seemed. Once his hand touched yours, your eyes blinked rapidly, scanning your surroundings until you landed on Egon in front of you.

“You seemed lost,” he stated.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to space out on you.”

“No need to apologize. Dissociation can happen when one is fatigued.”

He retracted his hand slowly as you gripped the handle of your mug and readied yourself for another sip. You closed your eyes and held the mug up to your nose to smell the coffee, then took another swig. You refocused on him and put your mug down.

“Do you do that too or are you just kept awake by science?” you asked jokingly.

“I tend to eat a lot of snacks. Also, I lose track of time. Aren’t you almost done with your work though?” he asked. “I’d cover for you if you want to leave and get a proper eight hours.”

You thought for a moment but wanted to impress him. “No, no. I really should get the paperwork done so it doesn’t pile up on top of the workload in the morning.”

“Well if you’d like, you can come into my lab to finish your coffee before returning to your work.”

It was odd that he made the offer, but you certainly weren’t going to turn it down. You were curious about what all was in his lab and what he was gathering data on. “I’d love to.”

You stood with him, your mug in your hands as he finished his coffee and placed his mug in the sink before sticking his hands in his lab coat pockets and leading the way to his lab down the hall. You carefully followed him, keeping his pace and holding your mug tightly, so as not to drop it. You went up the stairs to his lab, and right as you met the threshold of the doorway, the smell of earth, dirt, and metal hit you in the face. It was somehow comforting and warm, though that was probably because of the heat lamps he had over his growing fungi on the shelves. He walked over to his collection on the shelves and gave a small smile to the growing organisms. You could tell he was proud of his collection and indeed enjoyed watching these things grow. You thought to an extent it was adorable, even if you didn’t understand it fully. You scanned the bookshelves, seeing many books on anatomy, botany, and other fields of study. Some more recent reads were stacked and opened on his desk, one catching your eye, called Human Sexual Response.

“It’s very comfortable in here,” you commented, looking from his face to the gadgets and wires and hunks of metals he was using to make machines in the room. “I’m honestly surprised you wouldn’t fall asleep in here.”

“Well, it’s warm enough to keep my collection thriving. Though I usually run cold, so it’s warm enough to keep my body heat within a normal range,” he explained, walking toward an island table that held what looked like an upgraded version of the PKE reader that Egon had used for many ghost hunting trips.

“Well, Dr. Spengler, I do adore your lab. I wish my desk was as nice,” you said longingly, setting your mug down on the surface.

“Then perhaps you could rethink your choice of a job. You could become a lab assistant, if you’re interested. I admit I may need help in here soon with the amount of work we’ve been picking up.”

You approached him carefully, getting closer than you usually would. “Well, Dr. Spengler, your lab isn’t the only thing I’d love about a job like this.”

He scanned you with keen and clever eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He had been reading the research of Dr. Bill Masters and Virginia Johnson, which had made him wonder if sex was as formulaic as they had written. Maybe this was his chance to test the findings of Dr. Masters with his own experience. Your hand touched his shaven cheek, snapping him out of his thoughts. His eyes met the heat of your gaze, as your other hand rested on his sweater vest-covered chest. You felt the beat of his heart increase, and the breaths he took were more shallow.

“Y/N. Are you sure you…want me? If this is going to happen, I have some conditions,” he said, his hands now caressing your forearms.

“I want you, Dr. Spengler. What do you need from me?”

“You need to be my lab assistant. You’re obviously too curious to be behind a desk. Peter will find more help for Miss Melnitz, I’m sure.”

“Yes sir. But what do I need to do for you to have me now?” you asked, the hand on his chest gliding down his pec and to his side.

“I think tonight we’ll start with heart rate before and after coitus,” he managed, a shake in his voice as if your touch made him tremble. He too was human, and even if he tried to act like he wasn’t, he still had desires like his friends.

He reached his right hand to your neck, two fingers resting on your pulse point as his eyes trained on his watch to check your beats per minute. He stayed still, breathing quietly through his nose as you stood frozen for him. You could feel yourself getting excited. He was going to fuck you. In his lab.

“58 BPM,” he said, turning away from you to a notepad on his desk as he scrawled the information down, making sure to label it properly so it wouldn’t be another number written on the sheet. He stayed turned away from you as he took his own heart rate. You drank in the sight of his fluffy dark hair atop his head, his collared shirt covered with a sweater vest that smelled earthy, and his grey slacks that showed his shapely backside.

After he had written his down messily, he turned around to face you. “We need a flat surface, unless you’d like to perform this in an unusual way. Though, I’m not sure how much that would affect my results,” he said, his eyes wandering from yours to the steel table behind you. He was getting caught up in his thoughts here, while you were excited from anticipation.

“Dr. Spengler—” you started before he corrected you softly.

“Please, call me Egon, since we’re alone.”

“Egon,” you corrected yourself. “If we’re doing this for research, surely you’d like to include variables other than visual and audible stimuli. The position can be factored in as well. I’m perfectly comfortable as long as you’re here.”

He had looked from the floor to your face again once you started speaking his language. Science. Stimuli and scientific method speak. His gaze was curious and hungry.

“You have a point,” he muttered.

He took two steps toward you, closing the gap of space between your bodies. His hands cautiously rested on your waist, his fingers not sure what to do other than brush your shirt up for skin-to-skin contact. A shiver ran down your back at the coolness of his thin fingers. Your arms snaked up his chest and around his neck, your fingers brushing his fluffy hair at his nape. You leaned in, stopping just shy of his lips and grinning. His eyes were half-open, looking at your lips before he closed the space that was left. The kiss was soft at first, warm and inviting. But as you got heated, the kiss increased in intensity as you began to move your tongue along his lip. He complied and opened his mouth, clashing tongues with you. You were so close, that you could feel the heat emanating off of his groin and the thump of his heart against his ribs. Once you broke the kiss, you started to peel off his sweater vest, your fingers gliding down to mess with the hem as you pulled it up. He followed your movements and smoothly took it off, setting it on the desk behind him as he studied you. His hands went for your shirt, pushing it up and off your torso, revealing your lack of a bra.

“Oh,” he chirped, his cheeks turning pink. He obviously wasn’t expecting that to be missing. He awkwardly looked away.

“Egon, you can look at them. Hell, you can touch them. I guess I should've warned you.”

“Is this something you do often? Omit this article of clothing?” he asked, his eyes slowly crawling back up to gaze at your chest.

“When I can, yes. Some bras are very uncomfortable.” He nodded in response, understanding. You imagined he probably took a mental note.

Your hands gently grabbed his wrists and guided his hands up to cup your breasts. His fingers weren’t as cold as they had been, but they were still cool enough to make your nipples go hard. You softly gasped as he delicately brushed the tender skin of your chest. As you reveled in his touch, your hands had found the tie around his neck, working the knot out of it and pulling him close with it before you removed it from his shirt. Your fingers next found the top button of his collared shirt, undoing each of them, showing more and more flesh. His hands had begun to massage and toy with your nipples, drawing purrs from your lips. Once his shirt was unbuttoned, he leaned toward you to kiss you again before he lined your neck with kisses, occasionally suckling hard to leave a mark. He grazed your breasts with his lips and nose before arriving at a nipple and letting his tongue circle it. You trembled, feeling yourself become wetter for this nerdy scientist who was appearing to be a great lover as well.

“Egon,” you breathed, your hands clutching the back of his head, his soft curls intertwining with your delicate fingers. He released your nipple from his mouth and gazed up at your euphoric face.

“Something the matter?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

You shook your head, loving the pace this was going, but at the same time longing for him to fuck you into next week. “I want to see you. I know you’re modest, but you’ve only got your tie off while I’m already topless.”

His face turned a little pink and pulled his sleeves off to remove his shirt from his body, revealing a toned but not too toned body shape. He obviously got enough exercise doing ghostbusting, but he did make up for it by eating Cheez-Its and Twinkies. “I apologize. Is this arousing for you? To see me without a shirt?”

You mentally facepalmed. He had to be joking. You nodded, biting your lip at the sight of his smooth skin, his light patch of chest hair as fluffy as the hair on his head.

Another mental note taken, he set his shirt on his desk, holding your gaze until you broke it to see where your hands would touch. His chest was soft but solid underneath the layer of skin and little fat. You felt his sides, each rib felt on your way down to his hips as he shuddered beneath you. You snuck a glance downwards and could tell his erection had to be getting painful. He noticed your glance and took the opportunity to surprise you by lifting you up and sitting you on the edge of the cool table behind you. It was solid wood, slightly colder than the room surrounding it. You squeaked when he lifted you, your hands grasping his shoulders as his hands firmly grasped your waist. Then, those magic fingers of his began to pull on your dress pants, and you shifted to help him get them off. Once they had fallen to your ankles, he roughly folded them and put them where his shirt was on the desk. The dampness between your legs was visible on your mid-colored underwear, the waistband lacey and soft. Your panties had soaked through, getting your thighs damp now, which sent a tingle down your spine at the chill in the air without your pants. This was happening.

Egon kissed you again, grunts from his chest being heard between each one, your hands holding his freshly-shaven face. One of his hands had found your heat, the pressure from his hand on your mound making you shift up into it. He rubbed and felt your folds through the underwear, a grin crossing his face as he broke the kisses and moved his head to kiss your navel, stopping just short of the lace. He played with the hem, hesitating.

“May I?” he asked. As per usual, always the gentleman.

“Yes,” you breathed, “please.”

He took them off gently, as if unwrapping a neat and pristine present. Once he got a look at your core, his face definitely ran hot. He squatted, his hands each taking a leg under your thigh and placing them on his shoulders. His hands reached around the tops of your thighs and caressed them, kissing them up and down before focusing on your quivering pussy. His tongue laid flat over your clit, nearly causing you to buck into his face before his tongue began tracing your labia. You squirmed beneath him, giving Egon the sense that what he was doing was desirable to you. Your fist clenched beside you while your other hand held your breast.

“Ah, oh, Eg-gon,” you stuttered, the pleasure removing cohesive thought from your mind. Your heart was leaping, and just before you could grasp a climax, he stopped. “Egon?”

You looked to where he was, and you saw him looking at your face hungrily. “You make interesting faces when I do this. I had to see them in action…and wanted to see what would happen if I stopped.”

He sounded logical, but still lustfully charged. “May I pleasure you in return?”

He raised his eyebrows. He was so hard, he thought his slacks would tear. He nervously nodded as you sat up, laying on your belly to reach his belt and undo it, pulling his briefs and pants down. His cock sprung free, twitching and begging for attention. It was so red, you couldn’t believe there was still blood spare to go to his face and make it blush. His size was impressive in terms of length. He was girthy around the top and obviously hadn’t shown this part of himself to anyone in a long time. He covered his mouth as he watched you take his penis in your soft hands and guide it to your mouth, the taste of precum coating your tongue. His length throbbed in your mouth, and you knew too much would make him cum before he even had a chance to enter you. He let out a shaking moan, his hands stroking your hair and your shoulders, as if to praise you. You hollowed out your cheeks and let your tongue run along the underside, drawing out a grunt from Egon, followed by a small gasp. You stopped and pulled him out of your mouth, looking up at his euphoric face. You sat up and got back into place, your hips resting on the edge of the table, your hands drifting to find the small of his back to pull him towards you.

“Please, Egon,” you whined, making a face at him as he was caught in his head on the stages of human sexual arousal. His gaze raked you, taking in the sight of your form as if he’d never see it again. But a sly grin crept onto his face as he remembered the arrangement you two had agreed on. You would become his lab assistant and accompany him on this journey of experiments.

“Are you at full arousal?” he asked.

You nodded, your hair trembling on your head. “Are you?”

He grunted in satisfaction, grabbing his cock with his hand and lining up with your heat. He pushed in slowly, his girth spreading and filling you like nothing you’d felt before. You never imagined this would happen, and yet here you were, with Dr. Egon Spengler inside of you. Once he’d buried himself to the hilt, he hummed a moan as you contracted around his length, adjusting to his size. His hands gripped your hips, knowing it would leave a mark on you. He showed signs of possessiveness over you. The question you asked yourself next was, was it because he was aroused or because he actually liked you?

“Please fuck me, Egon,” you pleaded.

He complied, beginning a rhythm of thrusts, his girth hitting just the right spot while the room crowded with the sound of skin-to-skin contact. Your hands covered his on your hips as he gasped for air, each thrust drawing out squeaks and moans in a symphony of pleasure from your mouth. He threw his head back, humming louder until his lips could no longer hold in his sounds of euphoria. Hearing him make these noises because of you drove you wild, your hands reaching for his shoulders to pull him towards you as you sat up. He slowed the pace, panting as you grounded him with your gaze before making him tilt his head again to give you access to his neck. Your lips brushed along his tendons before settling on a spot and suckling on it, leaving a hickey that surely would last a week. He tried to control his breathing, his hips shaking as he desperately wanted to come. You laid down again and he resumed his rhythm, hissing through his teeth as he watched your breasts move to his beat.

“I’m gonna— Egon, right there, there,” you whined, your arms moving above your head, clenching your fists around the air.

“You’re close to orgasm, Y/N,” he huffed. “I’m right behind you.”

“Cum for me,” you begged, a moan ripping through your chest as your orgasm rocked you. Your walls clenched around Egon’s length, as he let himself go, his cum spilling into you. You didn’t think there would be so much, it felt like he had filled your stomach. It was satisfying.

As he came down from his high and refocused on you, he saw your hands cupping your breasts as your chest rose and fell. His rationale returned to him and he quickly took two of his fingers and pressed them to your pulse point on your neck, his eyes (while seeing stars) trained on his watch as he counted in his head. He slowly removed his cock from you before turning around to write down the number he had recorded, then taking his own heart rate. Your eyes were scanning his back when he was turned to you. You could see the hardened muscles that he used to carry his proton pack along his shoulder blades, the line down his spine finally stopped before his round ass cheeks tautly sat below it.

“You have a beautiful ass, Dr. Spengler,” you chuckled, the feeling of his seed spilling out of you giving you a shudder. It was still warm.

“Thank you,” he responded, turning back around so you could take in the sight of his face, chest, and now resting penis. “I think.”

“It is a compliment, Egon. Your behind is very shapely. Most women like a guy with a tight ass like yours.”

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind.”

He gave a small smile, clearly indicating that the dopamine from the sex had not yet cleared his system. “So, when is our next experiment?”

He thought for a moment, thinking about what he would need to gather and read on before the next one. “How does next week sound? It will give me time to gather my materials for further experimentation and for you to get to know your way around the lab.”

“That sounds perfect,” you said, sitting up and sliding your fingers to your slit, getting a drop of cum on your fingers, and sucking it off as he watched intently. The salty taste coated your tongue as your eyes met his. He seemed confused, intrigued, even, but not disgusted.

“I’m not judging you, if that’s what you’re thinking. I was just curious why you did that. Is it sexually arousing or pleasing?”

He could be so linear. “It’s satisfying to taste you. Think of it as…a gesture of pleasure. I enjoyed you.”

“Ah, about that. I forgot to ask if you’re on birth control.”

“I am. No worries.”

“So,” you said, hopping down from the wood table and approaching him as he stood and observed you. “Same time next week?”

He nodded, moving out of your way so you could grab your clothes from the table. This was going to be very informative for him. Not only would he compare his findings against those of Dr. Masters, but perhaps he could learn some other things about human intimacy that couldn’t be measured in numbers or statistics.

[watchmegetobsessed]

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part Six (Harry Styles)

a/n: LAST PART OMG!! im a little emotional this story has come to its end but it already ended up like twice as long as i planned it to be haha! thank you so much for reading and loving the story, it means so much to me and i loved seeing your reactions as the plot developped! i hope you guys will be happy with the ending our pair got and i can’t wait to read your thoughts about the series as a whole!!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce, sexual content

word count: 14.8k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

Waking up next to Harry is probably your most favorite thing in the entire world right now and you’ve been able to experience it every morning since you dropped Izzy off at Anne’s. You’re missing her like crazy and can’t wait to have her back, but part of you is desperate to stretch these days as long as possible, because you’re not sure if Harry will be comfortable with you sleeping in his room once his little one is back under the roof.

It’s always the same, yet you can’t get enough of it. Harry grumbles as he turns the alarm off, snuggles back to you for just a few minutes before he forces himself to take a shower. In the meantime you start breakfast and his coffee waits for him ready by the time he joins you in the kitchen. You eat together, sometimes talking, sometimes just silently enjoying each other’s presence and it’s the perfect way to start your days.

Then Harry is off to work and you go for whatever shooting you had planned for the day. Luckily, you’ve been keeping yourself busy. If your day ended early, you always found something else to do, you picked Trevor up another time and also managed to have lunch with Harry on Thursday which was such a nice change, even if it was just eating takeout in his office because you were in the neighborhood and he had some time to see you.

Now it’s Friday and you’re spending it with some editing and eventually packing, since you’re leaving to the countryside for Sarah and Mitch’s wedding when Harry comes home. You’ve been looking forward to this weekend all week, you had a few phone calls with Sarah and the two of you hit it off quite well, you can’t wait to finally attend the wedding. And also because Harry is coming with you, so it’ll be a kind of weekend getaway even though the two of you have been alone home all week.

Harry runs a little late from work so you leave about an hour later than you planned, but it’s all good, since nothing is planned for the evening, you just wanted to be at the location on time. It’s going to be a small wedding, nothing extra and it’s held in an inn near the beach, the perfect spot in your opinion, especially because even the weather seems to be celebration the occasion and it won’t be raining cats and dogs.

Heather: A double date? I don’t know, who’s the guy?

You’re texting Heather in the car and you finally bring up the possibility of going on a double date with Niall.

Y/N: Photo attachment

Y/N: He is a cool guy, I think you would like him!

Heather: He surely is hot! Alright, we’ll see. Anyway, have fun with your super hot and rich boyfriend this weekend! Tell me all about the wedding next week!

Y/N: Thanks!

Your eyes scan over the word boyfriend. You didn’t want to correct her and tell her that you are not boyfriend and girlfriend, just dating, because you kind of enjoy the thought of being an official item. It’s been just a few weeks since it all started and you know that Harry needs to take things in his own pace, but that doesn’t mean you don’t like to play with the thought.

You’re aching to finally call him your boyfriend or what’s better, hear him call you his girlfriend. The thought of calling this man yours is making you go nuts but you need to be patient with him. He has gone through so much change lately, you can’t let your silliness ruin it for the both of you.

It’s late by the time you arrive to the Inn and you both feel exhausted from the ride so you want nothing else than to get a good night sleep before the wedding tomorrow.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Sarah greets the two of you when you walk into the Inn. She envelopes you in a warm hug before doing the same with Harry. IN the meanwhile, Mitch has also appeared and he greets you with a short hug as well before giving a brotherly hug to Harry. “Had a safe ride?”

“Yeah, everything went fine,” you nod smiling.

“Great. Well, here is your room key, made sure you two are getting one of the larger rooms,” Sara smiles slyly, but you’re taken aback by something else.

“We’re sharing a room?” you ask turning to Harry, who seems nervous about your question, though it wasn’t your intention to make him ashamed in any kind of way.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, Sarah asked me this week which room I want and I told her we would be sharing… Is that okay? We-we could ask for a room for you as well if y—“ “Harry,” you chuckles softly, giving his hand a squeeze. “I would love to share, I just wasn’t expecting you to want to do the same is all,” you tell him and you can see the relief in his eyes instantly.

You talk over a few things with Sarah before taking your stuff up to the room and calling it a night. Harry takes a shower first in the small bathroom that’s joined to your room and in the meantime you hang your dress up so it doesn’t get too wrinkly by the morning. Then you just get all your equipment done, making sure everything is full and loaded for the big day tomorrow. When Harry is done you take your turn and the hot shower feels nice, quite relaxing. Walking out you find Harry lying in bed, typing on his phone, he smiles up at you when you join him in bed.

“My mum sent me this. They went to the park today.” He turns the screen towards you and a photo of Izzy is shown with ice-cream all over her face, grinning happily into the camera.

“She could literally live on ice-cream,” you chuckle, making yourself comfortable under the sheets.

“And gummy bears,” Harry chuckles before locking his phone and putting it to the side table. He is quick to wrap his arms around you, pulling you against his side and you smile as you snuggle to him, enjoying the heat of his body. “Good night, love,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Good night, H,” you softly reply before letting yourself drift to sleep within seconds.

You already have a lot of experience with weddings and no matter how big or small it is, the day is always a little bit chaotic, everyone is all over the place, there’s no time for just messing around, especially for you.

Following a nice breakfast with Harry on the tiny balcony that’s connected to your room, you are forced to part since Harry is supposed to be with all the other guys, getting ready in the room that’s reserved for Mitch, while you kind of need to be everywhere at the same time, but you obviously spend the most time with Sarah, wanting to capture all her best moments.

Sometime around noon you get about an hour off while everyone else is getting lunch and Harry texts you to join him on the mole down the beach that runs just below the inn. When you arrive he is already sitting on one of the old wood benches with a pizza box on his lap.

“Hey,” you smile softly and leaning down you peck his lips quickly before joining him on the bench.

“The boy ordered pizza and I got one for us too, hope it’s okay.”

“Of course, I didn’t even think about lunch until you texted,” you chuckle as he settles the box between the two of you and you both take a slice.

“So how are the photos coming up so far?”

“Good, I’ll have a ton of editing to do, but I think they will like the outcome.”

“Can I have a sneak peek of them?” he smirks playfully, but you shake your head.

“No, the first ones to see them will be Sarah and Mitch, sorry,” you chuckle as he pouts his lips at you, but goes back to his slice right after.

You both are just enjoying the quiet for a little, having had a busy day so far, exchanging very few words, but it’s still a nice time spent together. It is just the two of you until a guy approaches you on the mole.

“Hey guys! Mitch wondered where you went, H,” he smirks down at Harry before his eyes land on you. He is tall, but not as tall as Harry, rocking a noticeable beard and he is wearing the same outfit as Harry: maroon pants with a crispy white dress shirt. “Oh, you’re the photographer, right?” he smiles at you.

“Yeah, I’m Y/N,” you answer nicely, holding out a hand for him.

“I’m Landon, Mitch’s cousin,” he nods with a charming smile. “Sorry for interrupting your lunch guys. Just wanted to let you know that Mitch wants to do a round of shots when everyone’s back,” he chuckles.

“He is gonna be so hammered,” Harry chuckles shaking his head. “I’ll be back soon, thanks Landon.”

“No worries. I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he smiles at you before turning around and walking back to the inn. You catch Harry’s eyes for a moment and you have a guess what he is thinking about. Landon seemed to like you, with his flirty smiles and friendly introduction, he was surely thinking about shooting his shot, but he might not know that you’re dating Harry.

However he doesn’t say anything, just continues to eat his lunch in silence and quite frankly, you forget about Landon’s existence pretty fast.

After lunch it gets a bit hectic. The ceremony is starting at 3, so you don’t have much time left. You do the first look reveal thing and this time their son, James is included in it, which is honestly such a pure moment and capturing it feels like a privilege.

Soon enough the guests are starting to arrive and you quickly run up to the room to change into your dress. Most of the time you are not required to dress up for the job, but you like to blend into the crowd so you usually choose to wear a nice dress and you’re doing the same this time as well. You’ve brought a pastel yellow satin dress that teases a little cleavage, and you pair it with a cream colored cardigan, creating a simple but still elegant look for the rest of the day. You’re fixing your makeup in a hurry when the door opens and Harry walks in.

He immediately stops in his tracks upon seeing you in front of the mirror, his eyes traveling down the lengths of your body, a stunned expression adorning his handsome features.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were… in here,” he mumbles and you can see the blush forming on his cheeks. “You look… You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you chuckle softly. He takes a few steps closer to you and reaching up he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers leaving a trail of delicate touch on the side of your face.

Leaning down his lips hover over yours for a moment, as if he was giving you the chance to pull back, but who are you to deny anything from Harry Styles? So when you stay in place, he finally presses his lips to yours in a slow and tender kiss filled with passion. His hands cup your face in his and you bring yours up to wrap around his wrists as you kiss him back, already craving more than just a kiss.

But it feels like you are not the only one growing hungrier with the seconds, one of Harry’s hands wander down to your butt and you feel his palm’s warmth through the thin layer of your dress, though you wish there was nothing between his skin and yours. When he starts kissing down your jawline and neck, pushing you backwards you hate to break the moment, but there’s no time for any funny business. So painfully, but you pull back, already missing his lips on yours.

“I would really love to continue this, but I need to be with Sarah in about three minutes,” you chuckle softly.

“Yeah, I need to get back to Mitch too,” he sighs, pecking the corner of your mouth before his arms fall from around you.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” you smile up at him, fixing the collar of his shirt.

“Yeah,” he smiles with a boyish smile before you part ways again.

All through the ceremony you are kind of all over the place, trying to get the best shots, you don’t have much time to spare. Sarah’s entrance with her dad and James walking down the aisle is so beautiful and you get some amazing shots of Mitch’s emotions upon seeing his future wife. They tell their vows, touching every guest with their sweet words to each other and then they finally say ‘I do’ and become husband and wife.

You snap a series of photos of that moment as well, but then you allow yourself to peek over at Harry who is already watching you with a soft smile. You can feel yourself blushing, his gaze is warm but also quite intimidating in this sentimental moment.

And then the party finally starts. You try to follow the newly weds around as much as possible, but you also get around the tent, shooting pictures of the guests as well. You only get to have a few moments with Harry, because either you need to rush off or sometimes someone finds him and wants to have a few words. He is quite popular among the guests, but it’s no surprise. You’d want to have the chance to talk to him too if you saw him.

“Have you even had a bite yet?” A male voice calls out for you when you’re trying to sneak from one point to the other. Glancing over your shoulder you see Landon with a drink in his hand.

“I’ll eat later. The dance is about to happen so I need to be ready for that,” you smile at him.

“Mitch told me they found a really good photographer, but he surely forgot to mention how devoted you are. I’m excited to see the photos.”

“Thanks, I’m trying my best,” you chuckle.

“Save me a dance later?”

“Oh, um, sure,” you nod with a nervous chuckle. “But I really gotta go now,” you excuse yourself before he could even get another word out.

As you slalom between the tables you spot Harry sitting at one of them and he is staring at Landon from across the room, a not too friendly look plastered across his face. You wonder if he has seen you talking to him and now he is feeling jealous or if you’re just seeing things. But you don’t have much time to ponder on it, work is calling you.

As the happy couple share their first dance, soon enough more and more guests join them and you’re standing at the side, snapping the cute dance partners slow dancing to the music with Sarah and Mitch in the middle. You’re adjusting the settings on your camera, when a tall figure appears in front of you.

“May I have a dance?” Harry asks, holding out a hand for you like a true gentleman.

“Oh, I should—“

“If you are about to say you should be taking pictures, the bride told me to ask you,” he tells you with a soft chuckle and as your eyes fall on Sarah, she is smiling in your way happily, nodding her approval to get off duty for just a little.

“Then, I would love to,” you smile shyly, taking Harry’s hand as he takes you to the dance floor. Placing his hands to your waist he pulls you close to him while you rest your arms around his neck, swaying to the rhythm very gently.

“I always get a little emotional at weddings,” he confesses with a small smile.

“Yeah? Why?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I just… love seeing people in love. Especially when they are my friends,” he adds chuckling.

“It really is a nice thing.”

Harry pulls you tighter against him, his cheek pressing against the side of your head and you let your eyes fall closed for a few seconds, enjoying this moment with him. He starts to softly him the song and his voice flows through your ears smoothly, you’re in awe how good his voice is. He never told you he is a good singer too above being an amazing producer.

When the song ends some couples stay, but some make their way off the dance floor and you have to get back to your job as well. Leaning back you squeeze Harry’s arm as his hands fall from your frame too.

“Save a slice from the cake for me,” you smile at him and he nods with a smirk.

“I will. I’ll have it ready for you at the table.”

You place a short kiss to his cheek before you disappear from his sight, leaving him alone again.

The night carries on as usual, sometime after dinner your phone dies so you leave it on the charger up in your room before running back down. The party starts to unfold as the time passes, more drinks are being consumed and this is kind of your secret favorite part, because the more people drink, the more they are willing to pose for funny pictures. This is the time that births the best group photos, in your opinion.

Though you are having an amazing time, you can feel yourself growing tired. When it’s finally cake time you take some time off to sit with Harry who saved you a slice, just as you asked him. It’s nice to have a breather, just enjoy the evening with him by your side again.

“Mm, didn’t know you could eat icing without getting it all over my face,” you tease him, referring back to the time you made such a mess out of the kitchen when you tried to make cupcakes for him.

“Very funny,” he narrows his eyes at you, before dipping his finger into the icing and wiping it onto your nose.

“Hey!” you pout at him, cleaning it up, but he just smirks at you playfully before pecking your lips shortly. It’s the first time he is kissing you in with so many people around and it surely makes you giddy, knowing that he is not trying to hide you in any way.

Weddings are a lot of fun, but they always stretch so long. The party can last till the morning sometimes and you can’t just decide to call it a night and stop doing your job, you need to be there until the DJ shuts the music off and all guests disappear. And it seems like this wedding won’t be any shorter either.

It’s already past midnight when you decide to sneak out for a short break. You’ve been on your feet for way too long and you stole some food too. You hesitated if you should sit back to your table, but you felt like you could use some quiet so you left the tent and found a bench nearby.

As you sit and eat the food you snatched from the buffet table, you hope the party won’t last until the Sun comes up. You get so into your own little world that you almost don’t even notice the approaching tall figure.

“Having a break, huh?” Landon calls out as the gravel crunches under his fancy dress shoes.

“Ah, yeah. I needed a few minutes away from the music,” you chuckle softly. Landon stops in front of you and hides his hands in his pockets as he blinks down at you with tired looking eyes. It might be from the long night, but you are guessing the drinks he’s been consuming don’t help his energy either.

“May I say that you look really pretty? I haven’t been to many weddings yet, but the photographers went for the more comfortable look since they are not on the photos, but you chose to glam yourself.”

“Thanks,” you chuckle softly. “I like to blend into the guests.”

“Well, you don’t blend in this way either, because you look prettier than most women in that tent,” he compliments you and you’re starting to feel awkward. It’s not that you don’t like it when someone is talking highly of you, but it’s obvious what Landon wants and you are definitely not on the same page.

“Um, thank you.”

“I’m sorry if I come off too brash or pushy, but I promised myself I would never miss a chance to compliment a pretty woman when I see one.”

“That’s nice, but I’m afraid I’m not the right person to spend your energy on,” you answer with a tight-lipped smile. Landon narrows his eyes at you, but keeps his playful manner.

“So you don’t find me good-looking, is that it?” he teases and you shake your head with a soft chuckle.

“That’s not what I was talking about.”

“Then you like to break hearts, right? You must enjoy making men fall for you,” he carries on with his little joke and just as you’re about to speak up to tell him you are seeing someone, Harry’s familiar deep voice interrupts the conversation.

“There you are, I’ve been calling you.” He is talking to you, but his eyes are clearly glued to the man standing in front of you.

“Oh, my phone is in the room, I had to charge it,” you tell him.

“What are you guys doing out here?” he asks, clearly not liking the situation, you and Landon alone outside with no one else around. Jealousy is dripping from his eyes that appear so much darker now in the dim lighting.

“I’ve been dumped by this amazing woman right here,” Landon sighs dramatically and Harry cocks an eyebrow at him before glancing over at you.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, she is clearly not interested in me, my charm didn’t work on her,” he laughs lightheartedly.

“I hope it didn’t because she is my girlfriend,” Harry answers simply and your lips part at what he just called you.

Landon stumbles back, his smile quickly vanishes from his face as he stares back at Harry. You feel like you’re watching some kind of documentary movie where male animals are trying to win over the female, only that Landon stands no chance in this situation, but you find it quite funny.

“Man, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t—I didn’t know!” he apologizes right away as he realizes why Harry has been kind of spicy around him. Landon then faces you. “Y/N, I didn’t mean to make it awkward and all that, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you smile at him nicely. He mumbles something about checking up on Mitch before walking away, leaving you and Harry alone. He joins you on the bench, staring after Landon for a few moments before turning to face you. A much softer expression is showing on his face this time.

“So, you just called me your girlfriend,” you point out, trying your best to hold your growing smirk back.

“I, uhh—I did, didn’t I?” he chuckles nervously. “I’m sorry, it just slipped out, because I didn’t like how Landon was trying to chat you up all night…”

“So you didn’t…. You didn’t mean it?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows, feeling yourself growing disappointed.

“Well, I… I mean, I didn’t mean to say it like that, without discussing it with you, but… I would love to call you my girlfriend,” he admits shyly and you can’t believe that this nervous man next to you is the same man who owns a record label and manages his million dollars business every day without a problem.

“I like the sound of that,” you smirk, leaning closer to him so your noses are almost touching.

“Yeah?” he smiles, a lot more relieved and playfully than he was a moment ago.

“Mhm,” you nod, biting your lip. You blindly put your plate to the side before cupping his face in both of your hands and pulling him in for a kiss, your first one as boyfriend and girlfriend. Part of you feels silly that it makes you so ecstatic, like you’re a high school girl, but in this moment you couldn’t care less.

What starts as a sweet and innocent kiss quickly turns into something more, something heated. When Harry’s hands find your bare thighs and they slightly slide under your dress you can’t help but yearn for more, pulling him closer as your tongues meet. Your fingers lace through his curls, tugging on them gently and you’re fighting the urge to throw a leg over him and just sit on his lap straddling him. When he starts kissing down your jawline and neck, you have to stop him for the second time today, not that you wanted to do it anytime, but the time and place hasn’t been right.

“We can’t…” you sigh, pulling back even though every fiber in your body is telling you otherwise. Harry lets out a long sigh, nodding his head.

“Yeah, I know.”

“But hopefully, the party will end soon and then we will be all alone in our room,” you smirk at him slyly and it brings back the shine into his eyes.

“I can’t wait,” he mumbles before kissing you one last time.

From that moment, Harry lingers around you at all times for the rest of the night. He is always either right by your side, or within a few feet away from you, keeping an eye on you, but not in an obsessive and intrusive kind of way. His eyes are filled with lust every time you share a look at each other and you can tell he can’t wait for the party to finally be over. Whenever he is next to you, he makes sure to touch you in any kind of way. Placing his palm to the small of your back, your arm or your hips, or when you sit next to each other he rests his hand on your thigh or knee without hesitation. And you are loving all the affection you are being showered with.

By the time the wedding officially ends and you can finally call it a night, you are both touch starved and hungry for each other. Harry pulls you against him on the stairs up to your room, not even giving a damn that you are still out in the public. His mouth attacks you hungrily, kissing you anywhere he can reach as the two of you stumble up your way to the room.

Pushing the door open you basically fall inside, giggling against Harry’s lips as he shuts the door closed and presses you up against it, making you gasp at the action. He is so much more demanding and confident than the last time you shared an intimate moment and though you’re not sure how far he is planning to go, you know you are ready to give him anything he desires.

“As much as I love this dress on you, it needs to go,” he playfully smirks as his hands bunch your dress up on your thigh before grabbing it and pulling it off your body, leaving you only in your underwear so fast.

Your lips find his as your fingers work fast on the buttons of his shirt while you inch further into the room towards the bed. You both kick your shoes off on the way and when you fall to the mattress Harry’s shirt is already gone. He climbs above you as you sink into the way too many pillows and you blindly throw a few off the bed to give you more space. Harry licks into your mouth one last time before he moves down your neck and collarbones, peppering your heated skin with his kisses, his hands already sliding under your back to unclasp your bra. Arching your back you give him space to do the task on hand and a few moments later you are lying under him with your chest completely bare. His name falls from your lips as a whimper when his mouth comes in contact with your left nipple, kissing, licking and sucking on it while his hand kneads your other breast before he switches, giving both sides the same amount of attention. Your fingers lace through his unruly curls as you enjoy his touch that’s burning and soothing at the same time.

When he kisses down your stomach and hips, he hooks his fingers into your lacy underwear, but stop before doing anything, looking up at you for reassurance. You give him the green light by nodding and he carefully pulls the fabric off your body, baring you in front of his eyes completely. His kisses pepper his way up your inner thighs until he finally reaches your dripping wet core.

“Harry!” you moan when his tongue and lips press against your clit, swirling and sucking on it just right, making you shiver under his touch. He curls his arms around your legs, keeping them in place as he keeps working his magic, making you a whimpering mess with each lick.

He does the same thing as last time, teases you with his finger dancing around your entrance until you are basically ready to beg him for more. Then he finally pushes two fingers inside you and starts pumping in a slow pace that drives you nuts, leaving you ache for more of him.

You pull him up before he could get you to the top, because that’s not how you want it now and you need to know if he is ready to take this step with you. He understands what you want from just a look as he hovers above you and you cup his face in your hands tenderly.

“I want it,” he breathes out and you could come just from those three words.

“Are you sure?” you ask, though you just want to jump right at it already. Still, you want to make sure he is completely fine with everything that’s about to happen.

“Yeah. I am,” he nods before leaning down he presses his lips against yours.

Your hands reach down and undo his pants, pushing them down along with his boxers before he does the rest of the job kicking them off. His erection presses up against your thigh as his hips fall down a bit and you moan with just the feeling of him on your skin. Wrapping your hands around his shaft you start pumping him while your kiss never breaks.

“Oh fuck,” he moans in sensation and you grin against his lips, enjoying the thought that you are the one making him feel this good.

“Do you have a condom?” you breathe out.”

“Shit, I don’t…”

“It’s alright, I have one.” You sneak out from under him and rush over to your bag to look for your toiletries, you know you have one somewhere in there. When you finally find the little package you quickly get back to the bed where Harry is now lying on his back. Kneeling next to him you give him a soft, reassuring look.

“Do you want me to…?” you imply, holding up the foil.

“Oh, um, yeah, sure,” he nods and you swear you see him blushing. Ripping the package open you lean closer and roll the condom down his hard length before throwing a leg over his lap and get back to kissing him. You take your time with him, running your hands up and down his toned, inked chest as his palms warm the skin on your waist while your lips move together in sync perfectly. You could tell he needed a moment to get settled and wrap his mind around what’s really about to happen.

“Everything alright?” you ask, a little out of breath as you hold yourself up above him. He nods shortly. “Do you want me on top or you want to switch?”

“C-can you stay on top for now?”

“Yeah,” you smile at him warmly, before capturing his lips in a sweet kiss while your right hand wanders down his body until you reach his hard cock. Harry whimpers against your lips when you wrap your hand around the base, lining him up with yourself.

“Tell me if you want to stop, alright?” you ask him and in any other situation you’d find it a little funny that it’s you asking him that, usually this request comes from the guy, but you just want to make sure he is comfortable with everything that’s happening. Harry nods again and as he gulps hard his Adam’s apple bops up and down. Leaning down you kiss him again as you slowly ease down yourself just enough so that the head of his cock slides inside you. You stop, giving both him and you the chance to get accustomed to the feeling. It’s been quite some time for you as well, and your fingers do not compare to Harry’s size, that’s for sure.

He keeps one hand on your hip while the other reaches up and cups the side of your head, panting against your lips from the feeling of finally being inside you. Once you’ve made sure you both adjusted to the feeling, you allow yourself to sink further down until his whole length disappears inside you. You stay still, shutting your eyes closed as you let your walls stretch around his erection, making that slight pain you feel go away. Adding the length and thickness of his cock to the long drought you’ve had in the field of sex is making it feel like you are having your first time again in a way. It’s not that awkward and definitely not that painful, but still, that’s what it reminds you of.

“Are you good?” he asks, squeezing your hip gently. Your eyes snap open and meet his green ones that are now clouded with a little bit of worry.

“Yeah, it’s just… You’re big, Harry,” you admit with a soft chuckle that brings a cocky grin to his lips as well. “Just give me a moment.”

He just nods again and both his hands start running up and down your sides reassuringly as you take a few seconds to yourself before you start moving your hips. You start off slowly, dragging your movements out, trying to see what feels the best and judging from Harry’s moans and grunts he is enjoying himself no matter what you do. Your hands sprawl out on his chest, fingers digging into his skin as you lean onto him while starting to move up and down his throbbing cock.

“Fuck, you feel so good!” he whimpers, almost as if he was in pain, but you can see the pleasure in his eyes.

Your thighs start to burn, but you keep moving yourself, not wanting to stop, because you’re feeling your orgasm building up inside you. When he starts thrusting up to meet your movements, you moan his name so loudly there’s a chance the people next door heard you, but you couldn’t care about that now.

Harry might have noticed that you’re starting to get tired, so pushing himself up he wraps his arms around you and turns you over until you’re the one lying on the bed and he holds himself up above you on his arms. Your legs circle around his waist as he starts moving in and out of you, the new position making you both moan and gasp at the sensation.

“Harry!” you whine as he keeps hitting that one spot inside you, pushing you closer to the edge dangerously fast.

“Am I making you feel good, baby? You like it?”

“You’re making me feel so good, please don’t stop!” you beg him as he buries his face in your neck, sucking on the soft skin, most definitely leaving a mark on you that you’ll wear proudly tomorrow. You would never want to hide the fact how good Harry fucked you, let the world know that your boyfriend made you feel so amazing!

“Oh my God, I’m getting close. Are you feeling it too? Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” he asks, his lips brushing against your earlobe. Grabbing his face you pull him into a kiss, pushing your tongue into his mouth mercilessly and the grunt he lets out is making your insides tremble. It’s animalistic, so passionate and sexual, you want to hear this every day for the rest of your life.

“I’m close, go a little harder, Harry!” you plead and he does as you asked without hesitation, his hips slamming harder against you, making you gasp for air as your head sinks into the pillow, your back arching in pleasure.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Let it go!”

“Harry!” you whine, as you can feel your orgasm threatening to burst inside you any moment.

“Say my name when you cum, I want to hear who’s making you feel so good, baby!”

Your fingers dig into his hair as you chant his name over and over again with each thrust he makes and then your release finally arrives. You moan and whimper, shaking under his naked, sweaty body, his name falling from your lips as an endless glorification. Your walls clench around his cock and it’s the last straw for him as well, his thrusts become sloppy and uncoordinated as he cries out your name, his hips slamming hard against you while he rides his orgasm out. Reaching down you drag your nails down his back until you reach his perfectly round ass, giving it a cheeky squeeze while he buries his head into the crook of your neck, thrusting into you a few more times before coming to a stop.

Turning your head you kiss his temple, running your hands up and down his back while you both try to catch your breath, coming off your high. Soon Harry pulls out and rolls off of you, his body smashing into the mattress beside you, his face glowing from that post sex euphoria. After a few moments of just panting and blinking into the void you finally feel yourself returning to reality and rolling to your side you cuddle to Harry’s body, his arm instantly coming to circle around you.

“Everything alright?” you softly ask, placing a tender kiss to his chest under one of his swallow tattoos. The last thing you want is to have him freak out now that the deed has been done, but when he gifts you with a tired but genuine smile, your worries vanish into thin air.

“Yeah. I’m all good. More than good,” he chuckles before lifting his head and placing a soft kiss to your forehead. His fingers are dancing up and down your naked back, following the line of your spine and your ribs, his smoothing touch already working as a lullaby on you, but you’re determined to stay awake just a little longer.

“Are you turned on by hearing your own name during sex?” you tease him with a sly smile as you think back to how much he enjoyed you scream his name over and over again.

“I might have a bit of a praise kink,” he admits truthfully with a smirk.

“Mm, interesting.”

“What’s yours?”

“What do you like during sex?”

“You, balls deep inside me,” you bluntly answer, making him laugh at your words. “And I like doggy,” you then add to actually answer his question.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, and maybe some hair pulling. Not in an extreme way, but I like a little.” “Alright, noted,” he hums nodding.

You both clean yourselves up in the bathroom, moving around each other naked without any shame. Harry then puts on a pair of clean boxers and you change into your night clothes, though the moment you make yourself comfortable in Harry’s arms in bed his hand sneaks up your back under the shirt, tugging the material up. You could have just stayed shirtless, but now you’re too tired to even move. His fingers are drawing little patterns over your skin as you listen to his steady breathing before drifting off to sleep.

Sunday feels like a day after a sleepover in high school, when you’re thinking about everything that has happened the day before, and you’re so happy it happened but you’re kind of tired and just want the comfort of your home already.

Sarah and Mitch leave for their honeymoon early in the morning. You say goodbye and Sarah just keeps thanking you for your work even though she hasn’t even seen the picture yet.

“But I’m sure they are amazing! Can’t wait to see them!” she beams at you when you try to tell her to just wait for the actual outcome.

You leave the inn a little before noon heading to Anne’s to pick Izzy up. You have lunch somewhere on the road and then you sing along to the music in the car, enjoying yet another roadtrip together, making the best out of your last minutes alone. You’re happy to see that Harry hasn’t seemed to spiral after what happened last night, he seems delighted and pleased, maybe even excited. Driving down the highway he keeps a hand on your thigh whenever he doesn’t need to use it on the shifting gear and every time he reaches for you, it turns you into a giddy little girl.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Izzy chants upon running into Harry’s arms the moment you park down on Anne’s driveway. Apparently, she’s been sitting by the window for an hour, waiting for her dad to finally arrive.

“Oh, I missed you so much, baby!” Harry cheers, catching the running girl and lifting her up into his arms, hugging her close. It’s such a sweet sight, seeing the two purest people you know be so happy to see each other after a week spent apart.

“I missed you too!” Izzy sighs, wrapping her short arms around Harry’s neck, nuzzling into her daddy’s embrace and your heart is fluttering in your chest for sure.

Anne invites the two of you inside for a tea, Harry helps Izzy pack all her stuff while she is nonstop blabbering about everything she did with her grandma during the week, and Harry listens to her intently, even though she already shared everything with him on the phone when he called every night.

“How did the wedding go?” Anne asks you cheerfully as you help her in the kitchen.

“Oh, it was amazing! Sarah looked so beautiful and everything went smoothly.”

“That’s great, they are such a cute couple!”

Anne is quick to ask you about photography, how long you’ve been doing it and you even show her a few of your works seeing how enthusiastic she is about the whole thing. You were a little nervous about meeting her, but she is just as sweet and kind as her son, making it so easy to treat her just as a friend, not as the mother of your boyfriend.

Before leaving Izzy insists on showing you all the paintings she made for Anne this week, she has them on the wall in her little home office. While you’re shown around in Izzy’s personal gallery, Harry joins his mother downstairs, finishing up his tea.

“I assume the weekend went well, you two are glowing,” she smiles slyly at him and Harry can’t hide his boyish smile.

“I uhh… I asked her to be my girlfriend,” he admits and Anne gasps happily, thrilled about the news.

“I’m so happy for you, Har. I think she is a really good match for you!” she beams, pulling him into a motherly hug, kissing his cheek as if he was just a little boy, not a grown man.

“Thanks, mum. I’m happy too.” “You deserve it. It’s so good to see you living your life again.” Soon enough, Harry loads the car with Izzy’s stuff and it’s time to say goodbye.

“Bye Anne, it was so nice to see you!” you smile hugging her.

“Come back soon, Darling! Nag this old man to visit me more often!” Anne jokes giving Harry a playful look who leaves her comment unnoticed, giving his mother a tight hug.

“Thank you for everything mum, love you, I’ll call you alright?”

“Drive safe!” she calls after you all as you get into the car and wave her goodbye leaving.

The drive home tired Izzy out, or maybe it’s just the change of settings again. Whatever it is, she can barely stay awake until dinner, so once her tummy is filled Harry decides to put her to sleep early.

Izzy asks Harry to lie in bed with her as he reads her a bedtime story, she is extra clingy now that she is back with her daddy, but Harry is enjoying having his little one back so he doesn’t mind it. Izzy snuggles to his side, playing with the ears of the bunny she chose to sleep with tonight as she listens to his steady, smooth voice talk her to sleep.

“Daddy?” she asks quietly, already half asleep.

“Yes, baby?”

“Are you going to marry Y/N?”

The question catches him off-guard, he was definitely not expecting it especially since Izzy hasn’t even seen the two of you kiss yet.

“Why are you asking?”

“My new friend, Loretta from the park told me that if a boy and a girl live together they are probably in love and want to get married.”

“Loretta seems to know a lot about adult stuff,” Harry chuckles softly. “Well, it doesn’t exactly work like that, Iz. But… would you be happy if I told you Y/N is now my girlfriend?” he asks, feeling a little nervous, as if Izzy’s word on the question could destroy any possible future between the two of you. She stays silent for a few seconds and Harry starts to think she has fallen asleep, but then she finally speaks up again.

“Did you kiss her?” she asks and Harry can’t push down a soft chuckle. Izzy’s idea of relationships probably doesn’t go further than kissing and holding hands so this is how she is trying to put the picture together in her head.

“I did, yes.”

“Oh!” she exclaims. “I like Y/N.”

“Well, I like her too.”

“She can be your girlfriend,” she then replies, giving her blessing. “Are you going to get married?”

“Um, not for a while, no. But… it could happen if things go right,” he chews on his bottom lip, he is definitely not in the phase of thinking about marriage yet, not just because you barely just became an official couple, but that would be a huge step in his way of processing the end of his last one.

“Okay,” Izzy simply nods and that brings the end of the discussion. Harry has been a little nervous to have this talk with Izzy, he was afraid she might get a little confused about the idea of him having a girlfriend and the thought of her mother, but she seemingly didn’t even bring Maggie into her train of thoughts. Luckily.

When Izzy is finally asleep he closes the door and makes his way downstairs where you’re lying on the couch, watching the rerun of the news. You smile up at him upon his arrival and as he joins you on the couch, he is quick to pull you into his arms, making you snuggle into his embrace.

“I just told Izzy that you are my girlfriend,” he confesses and you lift your head up, not even trying to hide your surprised expression.

“Really? And what did she say?”

“Well, she asked if we are getting married,” he tells you chuckling shortly. “I told her that we shouldn’t get that far ahead. But she basically gave her blessing. She said she likes you.”

“Well I was hoping she doesn’t hate my guts after spending almost every day with me,” you chuckle, making him smile too. “But I’m happy she likes the idea of us.”

“Yeah, me too,” Harry nods before pulling you closer for a sweet, innocent kiss.

You finally get around to have that double date with Heather and Niall one month into your relationship. Harry’s weekends have been a little busy these past weeks, he had to go into the office on a few Saturdays, but now he has finally finished a huge project he has been working on so he can actually take some time off.

Ruth comes over to look after Izzy that evening and she keeps looking at you and Harry like a proud grandparent whenever she sees the two of you interact as a couple. Little touches and kisses have been more regular around home ever since Harry told Izzy that you are together. So far, she’s been handling it really well, she doesn’t seem to be confused about you and her mother and it might be because Harry has had a talk with her recently about her mother and where she really is now. His therapist suggested to be open about it with her as early as possible, and though she doesn’t seem to completely understand the idea of life and death just yet, she has definitely started to put the picture together in her head.

You’ve been spending all your nights at Harry’s room, so by now your bedroom is more like an office space for you and a storage for all your stuff, a place where you can be alone whenever you have some editing to do or just simply need some time on your own. Luckily, Harry totally understands the feeling of needing some space, he has his own limits as well and the two of you have been trying your best to coordinate around these lines when it comes to your relationship. After all, it’s been a pretty unusual situation, you were already living together when you became a couple, jumping a few steps in the timeline of a regular relationship.

Just as you were expecting it, Niall and Heather hit it off quite fast upon meeting at the dinner. Niall is in awe of Heather’s confidence and raw sense of humor that matches perfectly with his, while Heather finds him entertaining and somewhat like a challenge, since you honestly told her about Niall’s reputation as a womanizer, but it’s not something that could scare her away.

“He is cute, desperately wants to prove how good he is doing on his own, but I think that’s just a façade,” Heather tells you when you ask her about her date in the restroom. She fixes up her lipstick, staring at herself in the floor to ceiling mirror.

“So you think you want to see him again?”

“I’m not gonna run after him, if he asks for my number I’ll give it to him. But if he doesn’t, I won’t let him see my disappointment.”

“And what if he asks you to go home with him tonight?” you ask, feeling like teenagers gossiping in the girls restroom between classes. Heather smirks at you through the mirror before turning to face you.

“Oh, I’m not going home with him. That would bruise his ego so badly he won’t be able to think about anything else.”

You stare back at her stunned from how big of a genius she is. You would have never schemed like this when it came to men, but yet again, you never really needed to. Before Harry you were busy with Keith and that relationship came so easily to you. There were never really games, it took you about three weeks to get together. But Heather is a player and a very good one, apparently.

“You two look cute, by the way,” she smiles at you quickly washing her hands before the two of you head out, back to the table.

“Thanks,” you blush, eyes finding the guys sitting right where you left them.

After dinner you decide to stay for a few drinks at the bar a corner away and it’s been so long since the last time you were out just having fun, enjoying some time with good friends. If someone told you a few months ago that you’d be sitting here, sipping on a cocktail with Harry who is now your boyfriend, you would have laughed hysterically.

When Harry reaches for you thigh under the table, resting his palm on it, giving it a gentle squeeze just as a sweet gesture, you glance at him and he smiles at you as his eyes meet your gaze. It’s the first time you actually feel like any other couples. Having a nice evening with your friends, touching each other, holding hands, simply living in the moment knowing well that going home he will probably sneak into Izzy’s room, pressing a kiss to her forehead before joining you in bed, falling asleep with his arms curled around your figure.

It’s no surprise when Niall invited Heather over his place for another drink at the end of the night and you can barely hold your smirk back when she refuses and his face completely falls, especially because he was so confident in himself, the evening went well and he was probably sure she would say yes. Instead, she grabs herself a taxi and heads home upon parting ways. Niall is shocked, but he is quick to ask for Heather’s number from you before you say goodbye and you happily give it to him.

On the way home you think about how weird it is that you are still basically working for him. It’s not that you mind being the one who is looking after Izzy, it doesn’t even feel like a job, she has grown so close to you. It’s about getting paid for it when you’re Harry’s girlfriend and even though you know how untraditional everything has been with the two of you, now might be the time to make a change.

Harry checks up on Izzy while you get ready to bed and he joins you under the covers soon. Your thoughts about your possible quitting keep racing in your head and you decide to bring it up, just to see how he sees the situation.

“H?” you softly ask while he is checking a few things on his phone, propped up against the headboard.

“Yeah?” he glances at you, letting you know he is listening.

“Don’t you think it’s weird I’m still working for you?”

He stops and locking his phone he puts it to the nightstand to fully focus on the conversation. He just stares at you for a few seconds before knitting his eyebrows together, that crease between them making an appearance and you fight the urge to smooth it out with your finger.

“You don’t like taking care of her anymore?” Your stomach drops at the way he interpreted your question, because it’s not at all the situation.

“Harry, I love taking care of her!” you smile at him softly and can see the relief in his eyes. “It’s just a little weird that you’re paying me to be with her. I would do it for free,” you explain, hoping he now gets the whole picture.

“Oh!”

“Are you… Are you planning for the long run? With us?”

“Of course,” he nods and now you’re the one relieved at how naturally the answer came to him.

“Then maybe we should look for a solution that doesn’t make me feel like I’m a kept house woman,” you chuckle softly and a small smile tugs on his lips as well.

“What were you thinking about?” Sighing you bite into your bottom lip, not sure what he’ll think about the idea that came to you.

“I’ve been getting a lot of requests for photoshoots. I thought that maybe I could take two more days out of the week to work on them and stay home with Izzy for the rest of them. We could look for a nanny for those days. They wouldn’t have to move in, because I would be home by three probably. I think… I think it could work pretty well.”

Harry takes a few moments to think it through and you know he has to be considerate, the only reason he was so quick to hire you was because Izzy already knew and loved you. Bringing a stranger into the picture is a big change and everyone has to be fine with it to make it work.

“Would that make you happy? Staying home for half of the week with Izzy? I wouldn’t want to ask you to sacrifice your time for her… for us, if it doesn’t benefit you.”

For a few moments you’re just processing his words, but then you finally understand what he meant by that. He is thinking you might take it as if he is using you to take care of his daughter and he doesn’t want you to take responsibility for her if it’s not what you really want. But you see being in Izzy’s life as a privilege, you haven’t truly processed it yourself, but you start to look at her as your own daughter. Having spent the majority of your days with her these past months, it was inevitable to grow so fond of her.

Scooting closer to him you cup his face in your hands as you smile down at him softly, his green irises filled with worry and doubts, probably thinking that he is doing something wrong again, but he is not. He needs to have more trust in himself.

“I would love it, Harry. I love spending time with her and… with you,” you admit and there’s one thing that you’re aching to add.

And I love you.

But you keep that one back, not sure if he is ready to hear it just yet. It’s still so early in your relationship, and it might feel like a bomb if you just dropped it on him. You need to be a little more patient before taking this next step.

Bringing his arms around you he pulls you to his chest, a deep but happy sigh leaving through his nose as he kisses into your hair. Nothing else is said, but no words are needed. It’s been settled that you both are planning for the long run together and you’ll start to alter your life to make it fit into the picture.

You don’t jump into it right away, but a few weeks after the discussion you had about hiring a new nanny, you take the first step. Ruth agrees to cover one day every week, Fridays, so you can have it off for your sessions. Summer brings a lot of events and occasions and your calendar has been getting busier as your circle of customers has been growing lately. Though Ruth is more than happy to spend some more time with Izzy, you all know she won’t be able to do it too long, you need to find someone at last by the end of the summer.

Harry would never admit, but he is very anxious about bringing a new person into Izzy’s life. He is not the toxic kind of parent who wouldn’t let anyone get near his daughter, but he surely is considerate about who he lets to take care of her and it’s understandable.

On an afternoon spent at the park you are chatting with Ava, Yara’s mom when she mentions a nanny agency they’ve tried out before and had a really good experience.

“They hire people with at least three years of experience and many of their nannies have a degree in some kind of field in connection with child care. We had a nice girl from Russia watch after Yara, she is a primary school teacher but she moved here with her boyfriend for a year. She was amazing, really. Yara loved her, Saige and I loved her, it was a good match.”

She gives you a phone number and later that day you look up the agency, presenting the idea to Harry, who seems interested, but a little hesitant.

“We could still have an interview with them, right? Or I would have to just choose someone from the website like from a catalogue?” he voices his concern as the two of you lie in bed with your laptop propped against your thighs.

“I’m sure we can have an interview,” you smile at him.

Harry just nods, ergo he doesn’t reject the idea, but you can tell he has quite a few doubts about it, but there’s not much you can do.

In the course of three weeks you and Harry have five interviews with nannies that the agency sent and at the end of the day, Harry finds something wrong with all of them, even though they are only minor things.

“You rule out people for the tiniest things, Harry,” you sigh after the fifth interview with a kind middle-aged woman, Kaitlyn. “Based on these interviews you wouldn’t have hired me back in the days,” you joke.

“You know it was different with you,” he points it out and you just nod. He has told you so many times how you were just the perfect fit which is very charming, but it doesn’t help the situation on hand right now.

That evening, when you’re lying in bed, reading, while Harry checks up on Izzy one last time, you see that something is on his chest when he walks in and as soon as he is under the covers next to you, but you don’t ask him, instead just wait for him to bring it up himself.

“Y/N, I’m sorry for being such a pain in the ass about the whole nanny thing,” he sighs tiredly. Closing your book you place it on the nightstand before turning to face him fully.

“You’re not a pain in the ass, just very careful and maybe a little picky,” you add with a soft chuckle.

“Do you think I should be the one staying home with her?”

“Most kids spend the majority of their days separated from their parents in daycare, kindergarten or preschool. It’s not a crime that you are not a stay at home dad, not many like to do that or even fit for that role,” you shrug and it’s your genuine opinion. Just because parents don’t devote one hundred percent of their life to their children, it doesn’t make them bad. Parents deserve to be selfish sometimes.

“I just… I can get so into my head about everything I do wrong,” he sighs, closing his eyes and he seem so tired all of a sudden, like he has been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Brushing his hair out of his forehead you kiss him gently before his eyes open again.

“You’re not doing anything wrong, Harry. Believe me, Izzy is having the best childhood she could ever wish for. She is secure, loved and taken care of. Everything is going well.” He doesn’t answer, just nods as his arms wrap around you, pulling you to his chest and you gladly snuggle into his embrace.

That evening it felt like Harry was shifting in the right direction, but you can never know what really goes on in someone’s head and you couldn’t see what was coming.

A few days later another candidate comes for an interview, you, Harry and the young girl called Rachel sit outside at the terrace as Harry goes through the same questions he asked every other applicant while Izzy is playing around the swing set.

Rachel just finished her bachelor’s and is now taking a gap year before moving back to her hometown to work at her father’s law firm. She grew up with three younger sisters and took care of them most of the time to help her parents out who worked a lot. She is nice, very well educated and it’s clear she is great with children. Yet again, when you glance at Harry you don’t see him as satisfied as you are and you already know he is going to find something against her.

“Alright, so what is it this time?” you sigh once Rachel is gone and you can finally talk openly about her.

“She basically doesn’t have any official knowledge about kids, she just grew up with kids, that doesn’t qualify her as a professional.”

“Raising children is the best knowledge you can get, Harry,” you argue, feeling a little impatient this time. Rachel is perfect for the job, but any other applicants would have been fine too. You’re running out of time and Ruth won’t be able to help much longer.

“I would just be a lot more comfortable if it was a professional staying home with my daughter,” he answers, marching into the kitchen and you follow him.

“There were plenty of professionals between the previous ones as well. You are ruling everyone out!”

“I’m not ruling them out, I’m just trying to make the best decision for my child!”

“By being absolutely insatiable?!”

“Why is it so bad that I want the best choice?” he growls throwing his hands into the air.

“It’s not, but the best choice is not always one without any flaws, Harry,” you point it out, hoping he gets what you’re talking about.

“But I want this to be flawless!” he snaps and you can see that he has lost his patience at this point, but so did you. “I’m not settling for less than what I want, Y/N!”

“So then what? You lied when we talked about all of this? Because without a replacement, I can’t start working more!”

“I didn’t fucking lie, I’m just asking for more time!”

“Well it seems like you just want to push me into changing my mind about switching jobs and eventually say that I’m staying home, taking the blame off of you!”

“I’m not pushing you into anything, Y/N. We still have time until the end of summer, I just want to find the perfect person, give me some time!”

“Harry, there won’t be a perfect person!” you raise your voice, done with running the same circles at this point. “Any of the previous applicants would have taken good care of Izzy, why are you ignoring it?!”

“Stop telling me what to do when it comes to Izzy!” he then snaps, his voice beaming through the room, taking you by surprise. But what he says after this is what really hits you hard in the chest. “She is my daughter, not yours!”

Part of you knows he didn’t mean it the way it came out. Like you had absolutely no relations to Izzy, like you weren’t partially raising her way before you got together with Harry. You can see that it just slipped out in the heat of the moment, but your anger is making you selfish and not care about that anymore. His words hurt and you’ve stopped making excuses for him.

“Yeah, you’re right. Why am I still even here?” you calmly ask before simply turning around and heading out.

The calm but warning tone snaps him out and he is quick to realize he has crossed a line. He launches after you and almost catches you in the hallway when Izzy runs inside, calling out for him.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

Harry stops and turns around to see if she is alright and it gives you just enough time to escape. You rush out of the house and throw yourself into your car, igniting it and driving away as Harry shows up at the front door, calling after you, but you ignore it, making your way to your mom’s. You need a familiar place to calm yourself down at.

Harry tries to call you several times, and though the first few times it rings out, you send his calls to voicemail almost immediately after a while.

“Damn it,” he growls after another failed attempt to reach you. It’s been almost an hour since you stormed out and he is losing his mind, not knowing where you are, especially after what he said.

He regretted it the moment the words fell from his lips, but he knew it was too late. He let his anger bring the worst out of him and it all crashed down on you when you didn’t deserve any of it. Harry knows you’re right, he’s been trying to find something bad about every applicant because… part of him thinks that he is a bad father for not being the one taking care of Izzy all the time. If it wasn’t enough already, he’s been feeling like a failure for years… ever since he lost his wife because he wasn’t ready to commit more time for his family. He’s been dealing with the thought of being the worst father for so long, sometimes he convinces himself it’s the truth.

If I was ready for another baby, Maggie wouldn’t have had to die. If I put my family first, she would still be alive, he tells himself often when he is feeling the darkness clouding over his mind. Little does he know that it’s all just in his head. It doesn’t make him a bad father that he wanted to wait a little longer before having another baby. He never put his work above his family, he was always there when he was needed and made sure his loved ones are safe and taken care of. Never in his life did he ever put his work before Izzy or Maggie or anyone in his life he cared about.

But sometimes, your mind can play dirty tricks on you. And Harry fell for them.

As time is passing by he is growing more and more anxious when he doesn’t hear from you. No calls, no texts, he has no idea where you went or when you’re coming back. Sitting on the edge of the bed he stares out the window blankly before his eyes wander to the side where you usually sleep and it hits him hard when he realizes how eerily similar the situation is.

Following a fight his lover runs away, doesn’t answer his calls and he can’t get a hold of her. It’s like history is repeating itself all over again and as realization creeps up his spine, his throat tightens and he gasps, tears flooding into his eyes. With shaky hands he grabs his phone and dials Niall’s number, hoping he is not out somewhere at a bar, ignoring his phone.

“What’s up?” he answers the phone delightfully.

“Call Heather now and ask if she knows Y/N’s mom’s address,” he snaps immediately frantically.

“Woah, what happened?”

“Niall! Just do what I asked!” he barks and ends the call, giving his friend the chance to obey. Luckily, Niall feels the seriousness of the situation and does as Harry asked. A few minutes later a text arrives to Harry’s phone with the address.

Putting Izzy into the car he speeds down the streets to Gemma’s house who is shocked to see her brother in this state, but she doesn’t have the chance to ask anything as Harry drops Izzy off and asks her to watch her for the night.

“Okay, yeah, but—“

“Not now, Gemma!” he calls back, already running back to his car, heading to your mother’s house where you sought comfort following the fight.

“Not that I don’t like having you here, but you really should go home and talk it out.” Trevor joins you outside where you’ve been sitting on the steps of the terrace, staring out into the darkening sky. It’s been a few hours since you basically ran away from home and Harry has been blowing your phone up so you put it into airplane mode, sending all his calls to voicemail until you feel like dealing with him.

Trevor sits beside you, his long legs coming up closer to his chest as he sits the same way as you, his arms hug his knees.

“I know, I just… I’m a little tired,” you mumble.

“You don’t have to discuss it, but Harry would want you home for the night, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” you nod breathing out. “Do you think I overreacted?” you ask him, feeling unsure about the way you acted. Was it too much? Did you have the right to do it? You’re not so sure about it anymore.

“Well, he didn’t lie about Izzy not being your daughter,” Trevor huffs. “Though he could have handled the situation better. I get it that he just wants what’s best for her, but you were right too.”

Sitting in silence Trevor doesn’t try to convince you to apologize or keep holding a grudge. He just lets you figure it out all by yourself.

Not long later you go back inside and grabbing your phone from the dining table you decide to turn it back on, missed calls and texts flooding the device, but for your biggest surprise, not just from Harry.

Heather: Niall just called me to get your mom’s address urgently, everything alright?!

“Oh shit,” you gasp, typing a quick reply to assure her that you’re fine and then you open Harry’s text seeing how frantic he grew over time and you realize what it must feel like to him. The situation is way too similar to the way he lost Maggie and though you didn’t mean to hurt him by putting him through it again, it’s already too late.

Just as you are about to call him to let him know you’re fine a car pulls up on the drive way and you know it’s him. You rush out the front door the moment he jumps out of the car, eyes wide, chest heaving as he finally lays his eyes on you.

“Oh my God!” he breaks down in tears as you smash against him, wrapping him in your arms, he does the same, his strong arms circling around your waist tightly as he sobs into your chest painfully.

“I’m fine, everything is alright. I’m fine. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for running away like that,” you mumble, kissing the side of his head, holding him for dear life.

“I was so scared it happened again!” he whimpers, his whole body shaking. You slowly start pulling him until you reach the little front porch where there is a small bench kept next to the front door. You sit and pull him with yourself, he doesn’t even loosens his hold around you, as if you would turn to dust if he lets go of you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it through,” you hum, fingers combing through his hair as you try to calm him down. He is still shaking, but his sobs are starting to die down finally, his hands still fisting your shirt at your waist.

“No, I’m sorry for being such a dick. I didn’t mean it. You are doing so much for Izzy and I, I don’t know what I would do without you!” he whimpers and when he finally lifts his head up, your heart breaks at the painful look in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You were right about everything! Please forgive me!”

“Oh Harry,” you breathe out, the tears already welling in your eyes as you brush his messy curls out of his forehead.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you, what I said was bullshit! Please forgive me, I can’t… I don’t want to lose you, Y/N,” he stutters with one breath and then he adds: “I love you.”

Your lips part as you stare back at him in total awe at his sudden confession. Though it’s been an emotional ride, you weren’t expecting him to drop this bomb on you. A smile cracks on lips as you cup his face in your hands, feeling a hot tear rolling down your cheek.

“I love you too, Harry,” you answer, both of you letting out a relieved chuckle as he finally presses his lips to yours. His kiss tastes salty from both your tears, it’s needy and a little uncoordinated, but it means the world to you at this moment.

Sitting on the little bench you finally talk everything out once you both calm down enough to speak. Harry admits that he’s been so picky about the nannies because he is still struggling to be the best father he can and is reminded of being alone in this every time he faces a struggle. It constantly reminds him that he is supposed to have his partner with him, solving everything together, but now he is on his own and has to provide the best possible life for Izzy.

“Harry… you’re not alone,” you breathe out, heart aching for the man you love with everything in you. “And I’m not only talking about myself. Your mom, Gemma, Niall, even Saige, Ava and Linda are always happy to help you out with everything. If Maggie was still here, it wouldn’t be just the two of you. Raising a child needs a whole village,” you chuckle softly. “But if you want a partner in it… I’m here. And I really mean it. I see a future with you, I want to be part of your family, of course, only if you let me.” Reaching over your hand finds his on his lap and you squeeze it gently as he looks at you, his expression still a little torn, but it’s not as painful as it was when he arrived.

“I would love to have you be part of my family, Y/N.”

It’s like a rock is lifted off your chest upon hearing his reassuring words. This is all you ever wanted, have a partner in life who is willing to build a future together with you and Harry is offering you just that.

You stay on that old little bench for so long, you don’t even realize how late it has gotten, only when your mom shows up at the door, wearing her nightgown and a fluffy robe.

“Don’t want to bother, but do you want to spend the night? Just asking if I should get you some extra pillows and blankets…”

“Oh! Um, no. We are going home, but thank you mom,” you smile tiredly, noticing it’s nearing midnight now.

Harry stands from next to you and as he steps to your mother you realize they haven’t even met. Harry stands tall in front of your mom, but you notice the nervous flash in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even have the time to introduce myself,” he mumbles with a nervous chuckle. Your mom blushes, most likely finding your boyfriend quite handsome though you already showed pictures of him to her. “I’m Harry,” he says, holding out a hand.

“Oh, no worries! I’m Tina!” she smiles charmingly as they shake hands.

“Nice to meet you, Tina.”

“I know we should have probably had a better introduction, but we’ll come around some other time under better circumstances,” you chuckle softly as you stand up from the bench too.

You say goodbye to Trevor and your mom and finally head home. Harry tries to convince you to ride back in his car, but you don’t want to leave yours here, so you tell him it’s going to be fine. Both of you arrive in one piece and you only realize that Izzy is nowhere to be found when you walk into the house.

“Dropped her off at Gemma’s. I’ll have to explain a lot of things to my sister tomorrow, but it can wait,” he chuckles softly before his hands reach out to you, grabbing your waist gently as he pulls you closer to him. “I’m so sorry for tonight, Y/N.”

“Hey, we agreed that no more apologizing,” you remind him of the deal you made earlier. “It’s all in the past.”

Harry nods, huffing through his nose before leaning down he kisses you softly, as if you were some kind of fragile artwork that needs to be handled with so much care.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips, his eyes barely open under his thick lashes.

“I love you too,” you smile back, your hands coming to rest at the base of his neck.

“I will never get tired of hearing that,” he chuckles lowly, making you laugh too.

“Good, because I’ll be saying it a lot.”

“Perfect.”

“Stop picking on your lip!” you warn Harry when you catch him fidgeting with his bottom lip. He wouldn’t admit, but he is surely nervous as the two of you are waiting for Izzy to join you downstairs. She just got home from the zoo with Gemma, they had an amazing day together, but it had a purpose. You needed her to be looked after while you went to the doctor. It was your first ultrasound since the time you went to see if you’re really pregnant or the tests just fooled you, but it was one hundred percent legit. You were indeed pregnant.

You and Harry got married a few weeks before Izzy turned six. She was the cutest little flower girl in the small ceremony held at the backyard of your own home. Both of you agreed that you don’t want anything big and flashy, just an intimate little wedding with your close family and friends. It’s been two months of being husband and wife and it’s almost completely sure the little baby growing now in your tummy was conceived on your wedding night…

You’ve been keeping it a secret, wanting to tell Izzy first before sharing the news with your friends and family.

“Do you want to talk first or do I do it?” Harry asks in a whisper, as if Izzy could hear anything from upstairs.

“I have a feeling you wouldn’t be able to get a word out so I’ll take the lead, if you don’t mind,” you chuckle softly and Harry doesn’t argue.

He has been such a nerve wreck thinking about telling Izzy that she is going to be a big sister. These past years she has dealt so well with processing everything about the situation with her mom, you and the idea of her dad having a new wife. You felt like she was a little confused at the beginning, but once you had an actual, mature talk with her, answered all her questions, you could see things shift to place in that cute little head of hers. Now she knows what it means that her mom passed and how you came into the picture. This is why you have no doubt she’ll take the news well, but Harry is still afraid she might flip.

Little feet tap against the floor somewhere upstairs and then Izzy runs down the stairs, joining you at the dining table.

“What’s the surprise?” she asks in excitement. You told her you have a surprise for her when she arrived and now she is pumped for whatever is coming.

“Izzy, you know how Zac has a little brother, right?” you ask, smoothly starting the discussion.

“Yes! His name is Jeremy!”

“Yeah. So Jeremy is a little younger than Zac, they are siblings. Zac’s parents wanted to have more than just one kids and so they decided to have Jeremy.”

“Mrs. Rumbald had him in her belly!” she explains cleverly. The topic of babies has already came up earlier, so now she has an idea of what really happens when a couple decides to have a baby.

“Exactly,” you nod smiling. “You know how your daddy and I are now married, right? We talked about what it meant.” Izzy nods, glancing at her father who is sitting beside you, sweating his balls off even though it’s going smoothly. “Married couples often decide to have babies. This is what your dad and I did too and now there is a baby in my belly too. That means that you’re going to have a little brother or sister soon.”

Izzy blinks a few times, processing your words before her face lights up with excitement as she gasps.

“Can I play with her?” she asks, making you and Harry laugh.

“Might be a boy, baby,” Harry chimes in.

“Okay, then can I play with him or her?” she corrects herself.

“Well, you have to be careful with newborn babies, but I’m sure she or he will love to play with you!”

“What’s it gonna be called?” she asks her next question.

“We don’t know that yet. But you can suggest names if you want to,” Harry offers.

“Can it be Elsa if it’s a girl?” she immediately suggests and you smile at her first thought. Of course she says Elsa, she is going through her mandatory Frozen obsession like every other kid at her age.

“We’ll put it on the list,” you tell her. “Do you want to see a picture of the baby?”

“You can take pictures of the inside of your belly?” she asks with a confused look.

“Well, not with a camera like the ones I use,” you explain as you place the black and white, messy picture of the tiny baby in front of her. She grabs it and starts inspecting it as if it was some kind of puzzle and you can tell she is having a hard time making out where the actual baby is. “That’s right there. It’s still tiny and has to grow a lot,” you tell her, pointing at the right splotch in the picture.

“Can I keep this picture?” she asks smiling up at you sweetly. “I want to put it to my wall!”

A while ago Harry has gotten her a huge frame right above her bed that has wires running across it with tiny clips attached. You’ve gifted her her favorite polaroids from your stack you’ve collected through the years, most of them featuring the three of you. It’s touching to know that she wants her little sibling there already.

“Of course!” you breathe out, touched by the idea.

You follow her up into her room and while she stands on the bed, you put the sonogram next to a photo that was taken of her and Harry on her sixth birthday.

“Can I tell my friends at school that I’m going to have a brother or sister?” she asks, still standing on the bed so now she is almost as tall as you are.

“Um…” glancing over at the door your eyes meet Harry’s who just shrugs, letting you know it’s up to you. “I guess you can, yes.”

“Thank you!” she beams, throwing her little arms around your neck as she hugs you tight and you return it gladly. “Can I watch some TV, please?” she asks with an angelic look she knows you can never resist.

“Yeah, but only for an hour,” you tell her as she jumps in victory before climbing off the bed. Running to the door she gives Harry a hug before disappearing down the hallway. Harry walks in, a proud and soft smile tugging on his lips as he steps to you, his hands finding your waist. He pulls you against his hard chest, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“This went well, right?” he asks.

“Yeah, you were such a big help, sitting there in silence,” you chuckle teasing him.

“But you handled it so good, baby. I didn’t want to interrupt,” he smirks and you just roll your eyes at him before circling your arms around his neck.

“Uh-huh, sure,” you smirk. “So… are you ready to be a daddy again?” you ask him with a shy smile.

“Technically, I never stopped being a daddy,” he points out. “The real question is, are you ready to become a mommy?” he asks turning it back to you.

“I’m… a little nervous, but very excited. I think I’m ready,” you nod smiling.

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna be alright,” he hums, kissing into your hair.

“Wow, when did you become the emotional support in this relationship?” you tease him and he just rolls his eyes.

“Learned from the best,” he nudges his nose against yours before kissing you softly. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” you smile against his lips, thinking about how long the two of you have become since you first met and you are happy you got to be the person who taught Harry how to love and be loved again.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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[queenshelby]

The Singer – Part Three

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 7,970

Warning: Smut, Some Swearing, Age Gap

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***Raising Suspicions***

Kurt was quick to tell Amanda about his suspicions. He was sure that Cillian and you were involved after he’s seen Cillian’s watch at your apartment, lying on his study desk along with an empty condom wrapper.

He wasn’t surprised, knowing very well that you preferred older partners and that he was the exception all along. But Amanda didn’t buy into his suspicions.

‘Common Kurt, you are being ridiculous. Cillian wouldn’t be interested in Y/N’ Amanda said, but Kurt simply raised an eyebrow at Amanda’s comment.

According to Amanda, you weren’t Cillian’s type. You were too young and too outspoken. In addition, she explained to Kurt that Cillian wouldn’t like your tattoos, piercings and your involvement on social media. You were completely different to Amanda, not just physically but also mentally. You were an extrovert whereas Amanda was an introvert. She was mostly quiet and reserved whereas you were loud and direct.

Despite Amanda’s comments, Kurt didn’t back down and eventually confronted Cillian when they were on their own.

‘Are you fucking my girlfriend?’ Kurt asked Cillian out of the blue.

‘Excuse me?’ Cillian responded somewhat flustered by Kurt’s question.

‘It’s a simple question Cillian. Are you fucking my girlfriend? Yes or no?’ Kurt asked again angrily, starring at Cillian’s watch again.

‘Did someone spike your coffee this morning or something?’ Cillian asked somewhat annoyed, making Kurt sound absurd.

‘Alright, don’t fucking answer my question then but, just so you know, since you are always trying so hard to stay out of the tabloids, it would look really fucking bad if you left Amanda for a woman half your age’ Kurt went on to say, catching Cillian by surprise.

‘You have issues man’ Cillian said angrily before walking away from the conversation, getting on with the things he had to do for the arts and music festival.  

Despite Cillian’s immediate reaction to Kurt’s question, Kurt’s comments didn’t leave Cillian’s mind for the remainder of the day.

Of course, it would be bad if he was involved with someone half his age, especially shortly after separating from Amanda which was something that wasn’t even public knowledge yet and it was exactly this what made Cillian think about whether he should continue seeing you.

With these thoughts on his mind, he became rather distant over the next few days, not returning your calls and messages, only engaging into conversations with you when he absolutely had to.

You were frustrated by his behaviour and the least you were expecting from him was that he would talk with you about what happened between you. If he believed it was a mistake that you slept with each other, then you wanted to know.

Eventually, a week had passed and nothing had changed.

***New Woman***

After having been upset and frustrated with Cillian and Kurt, you’ve given up on men all together and, on a Thursday evening, your closest friend Emily and her fiancée Judy took you out to a LGBT friendly bar in Dublin.

It was cocktail night and Judy introduced you to a friend of hers named Kirsten. Kirsten was a local Dublin artist and photographer and you got on with her quite well immediately.

You spent the entire evening talking and dancing and you eventually had a few too many drinks and left the bar together with Kirsten.

Sharing a taxi together, you got quite comfortable on the backseats and things eventually got heated between you and Kirsten when Kirsten leaned in and kissed you passionately while running one of her hands between your thighs.

Her lips were soft and smelled like strawberries from the lip gloss she was wearing and you couldn’t resist but give into the kiss on the backseat of the taxi.

‘Did you want to come to my place?’ Kirsten asked when your lips drifted apart.

‘I probably shouldn’t…I have been making a few mistakes lately’ you whispered, knowing that Kirsten was, in fact, in a relationship with someone else.

‘It could stay our little secret you know’ Kirsten smirked but, despite the large amount of alcohol you had to drink, you shook your head.

‘Listen, you are gorgeous but I don’t do one-night stands, I am sorry. Perhaps we will meet again under different circumstances’ you said with a tender smile before allowing Kirsten to kiss you once more just before the taxi driver pulled up in front of her apartment.

After a short final kiss, Kirsten got out of the taxi and walked into her apartment while you remained sitting, asking the taxi driver to take you home.

When you got home, you quickly undressed and let yourself fall onto your soft and large vintage style bed which is where you remained fast asleep until 8 o’clock the following morning.

At 8 o’clock, your phone beeped and it was text message from your sister with a link to one of the bar’s patron’s Twitter Accounts…

******************************

“New Relationship for Y/N L/N with sexy Dublin artist Kirsten Lang??? It looks like Kurt Spencer is finally out of the picture”

*******************************

This was a nightmare, you thought. The last thing you needed was false information being out there about you while you were still dealing with your break up from Kurt and all you could think about was Cillian.

But, there was nothing you could do about it and, after digesting the news, you had a shower and got ready for another day of organising this arts and music festival.

When you arrived at the usual meeting spot, everyone had already seen the Twitter post and Kurt immediately gave you a serving about it, asking you why he wasn’t invited for a threesome with your lesbian friend.

‘Fuck off’ was all you managed to respond with. Still hungover and angry about the Twitter post, the last thing you needed was Kurt making a comment like this.

With your coffee in your hand, you eventually sat down next to Cillian who looked at you with a half grin on his face. His eyes were full of questions but he didn’t say anything at all.

‘What?’ you asked, annoyed by the way he looked at you.

‘Are you alright?’ Cillian asked concerned.

‘No, I am not fucking alright, ok? I am sick of this shit’ you said with frustration as you scrolled through the Twitter comments.

‘You need to be more careful about who you hook up with in public. Trust me, I speak from experience’ Cillian chuckled, referring to that one night a few years ago where he was caught by cameras having a night out with one of his female co-stars. The incident caused his first major fight and break up with Amanda until it became public that Cillian and his female co-star were, in fact, accompanied by his co-star’s boyfriend and several other members of the film crew.

‘Well thanks for the advice’ you said angrily, still unsure why he cared.

‘Was it worth it at least?’ Cillian asked carefully, trying to figure out whether anything happened between you and Kirsten  

‘Nothing happened. We just kissed. So no, it wasn’t fucking worth it’ you said. You couldn’t help but chuckle yourself knowing how idiotic this all was.

‘You’ve got two choices here. Either, you set the record straight or you let it go Y/N’ Cillian said calmly, feeling genuinely sorry for you.

‘What would you do in my situation?’ you asked.

‘I’ve learned not to give a shit about gossip like this over the years. Personally, I would let it slide. But I can see that it bothers you, so get your manager to make a statement on your behalf or, like you young people do, make a statement yourself on this platform with the bird on it which I think is where the rumours are coming from, right?’ Cillian recommended with a warm smile.

‘What Twitter?’ you laughed.

‘Yeah. Or you can use whatever social media platform you young artists use these days’ Cillian suggested.

‘Good idea old man. I will make a tweet’ you laughed. ‘But tell me, if you don’t use Twitter, how did you know about it in the first place?’ you went on and asked.

‘Kurt has a big mouth’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Of course’ you sighed.

After the initial Twitter drama, your day working with Cillian went exceptionally well and you felt much better after setting the record straight on Twitter, having your followers and fans interact on your post and offering their support.

You finished up after about five hours, ready to head back home in order to have a lazy evening.

‘Do you want a lift back home?’ Cillian asked after you indicated that you would be leaving and were ready to catch up on some sleep. You had told Cillian earlier that your car was still with the mechanics and he could see the tiredness on your face.

‘No thanks, I will walk’ you said despite the fact that you were tired and walking was the last thing on your mind. You were trying to spend as little time as possible with Cillian.

Cillian nodded and, just like this, you were out of the door.

‘You know, if you like her, perhaps just tell her’ Janine, the administration assistant, said to Cillian after having observed his interactions with you for the past few weeks.

‘Excuse me?’ Cillian asked surprised and with a slight chuckle.

‘It’s obvious that you like her. Just as it is obvious that you touched the damn printer again last week even after I told you not to’ she then went on to say.

‘I am sorry about the printer’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Sure you are’ she laughed before walking off.

***Change of Mind***

Unfortunately for you, the following day, which was also going to be the last day of working with Cillian and some others on the festival preparations, was going to be even worse than the last.

You barely made it to the office on time again, not having had much sleep again. You were on to your third cup of coffee and had been taking pain killers all night.

‘Fuck Y/N, you look awful. Are you alright?’ Cillian said as you sat down next to him and, over at the copier station, he could see Janine shake her head in disbelieve. He just told the woman he liked that she looks awful. He was a hopeless case she thought.

‘Oh, thanks Cillian. That makes me feel better’ you chuckled as you took a sip from your large cup of coffee and popped yet another two tablets of paracetamol.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it this way. You just look unwell’ Cillian said shyly, looking over to Janine for guidance. She nodded in approval.

‘I am fine. It’s just the time of the month’ you responded quietly and with some embarrassment.

‘What do you mean?’ Cillian asked with some confusion.

‘She means that she’s got her period Cillian’ Janine chuckled from behind before walking off.

‘Right. Of course’ Cillian said, his cheeks starting to flush. ‘Why didn’t you just stay at home if you are unwell?’ he went on to ask.

‘Because my apartment won’t have any electricity until 8pm. They are finally fixing the central heating system’ you explained.

‘Bad timing’ he responded.

‘I know. I will go to my sister’s later for dinner. Although I don’t really feel like it. She’s got two young kids who are quite a hand full and all I want to really do is chill and watch Netflix’ you whined.

‘Well, if you want to, you can come over to my place. No kids there and we could get some food, watch a movie and then I will drive you home once the electricians have left’ Cillian suggested.  

‘Do you actually mean that or is this a “come up for tap water” type of situation?’ you asked causing Cillian to laugh.

‘You just said you have your period so it’s defiantly not a “come to my house for some tap water” type situation’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Believe it or not, some guys are into that. It’s just that I am not’ you giggled, causing Cillian to raise his eyebrows.

‘I can assure you that I am not one of those guys. Just a movie and some food, alright?’ Cillian laughed and you nodded, knowing that this would be a mistake but you much preferred a quiet evening with Cillian than a loud evening with your nephews while you were battling your period pains.

Just as promised, after a long day, Cillian took you home with him after you cancelled on your sister.

He dropped you at his house first, showing you how the TV works, before leaving you there on your own for half an hour so that he could organise some food for you as his fridge was usually empty now that Amanda had finally moved out.

While he was gone, you looked around the living area and you noticed that all pictures of Amanda and Cillian had gone. He clearly had moved on.

Eventually, you lied down on the lounge, watching TV and it wasn’t long until Cillian returned with two large shopping bags and it looked to you like he was going to cook for you.

‘When you said food, I expected pizza or chinese take away’ you said surprised before telling him that no man had ever cooked you dinner before and you were delighted by his efforts.

‘Nah, I enjoy cooking’ Cillian said with a warm smile as he continued to unpack the grocery bags.

Amongst ingredients for risotto, he also bought a caramel fudge ice cream, a bottle of wine, a hot water bottle and very warm ruby red socks.

‘Please explain’ you giggled as you held up the socks.

‘The last time we watched a movie together, in your bed, you had your feet wedged between my lower thighs because they were cold’ Cillian laughed before running his thumb over your cheeks and then pulling away, realising that he might have overstepped the line once again.

‘Thank you, you are very observant’ you said, feeling the want to kiss him but holding back.

‘How about you have bath while I do this’ Cillian then suggested and your eyes lid up. Your apartment didn’t have a bathtub but you also didn’t see a bathtub in the bathroom you used the last time when you came to Cillian’s house.

‘I feel bad. I should really help you’ you then said, feeling guilty that Cillian was doing all the work.

‘There is no need Y/N. Common, I will run you a bath’ Cillian said before showing you the way upstairs to his bedroom.

‘You’ve got nice taste’ you said as you looked around his bedroom and observed the quite obviously new furniture and artwork.

‘Thanks’ Cillian chuckled as he grabbed a fluffy white towel from the large cabinet inside his walk in-wardrobe.

The entire bedroom was furnished with modern wooden furniture and only a little decoration. Over the bed there was a large painting of a landscape in France and the bedside lamps were almost contemporary or vintage.

Across from the large king size bed was a spa bath and, behind a nook, there was the rest of the bathroom. The entire area could be closed by a large sliding door or could be left open if you wanted to watch TV.

You watched Cillian put some bubble bath into the tub and then turn on the water before changing the lightening and handing you the towel, a t-shirt and your brand-new fluffy socks.

‘I will be downstairs alright?’ he said with a warm smile and you nodded shyly.

You got undressed as soon as he left the room and sank into the hot water. It was delightful but you wished he would have joined you for the bath.

He was very different from Kurt, caring and romantic and you wished that he would let you in, give you chance.

After your bath, you returned downstairs wearing nothing but the t-shirt Cillian had given you, your panties and the red fluffy socks.

‘This was so nice’ you said as the pain in your stomach had decreased. ‘And this smells so good’ you added as you looked what Cillian was cooking.

‘Before I put all this chilli in there, do you like spicy food?’ Cillian asked as you stood next to him, closely watching what he was doing.

‘I love spicy food so bring it on’ you giggled, giving Cillian a big smile.

***Return of Romance***

After you both ate dinner and cleaned up the dishes, Cillian had a quick shower before sitting down next to you on the lounge in a t-shirt and trackpants.

‘Still bad?’ Cillian asked as he observed you holding your stomach.

‘Yeah, it usually lasts a day or two’ you said and, without asking, Cillian got up and boiled the kettle.

Moments later, he returned with the hot water bottle he had purchased and placed it onto your stomach before indicating to you to lie down on the lounge and pick a movie.

‘Seriously? You let me pick a movie again?’ you asked as Cillian sat down next to you.

‘I know I might regret this but yeah’ Cillian chuckled just as you put one of the small lounge pillows onto his laps and rested your head on top of it.

Cillian’s hands soon found your hair and ran his fingers through it gently while you searched through Netflix.

‘Please, no’ Cillian chuckled as you stopped at Pretty Woman and cheekily pressed play.

It was your favourite movie and Cillian already regretted giving you the remote control.

About ten minutes into the movie, you shared some ice cream and then you sat up next to him, curling up against his chest watching Julia Roberts seducing Richard Gere.

You were still in pain and Cillian noticed, his hand rubbing against your lower back gently while you held onto your hot water bottle.

‘Are you alright?’ he whispered while you took in the scent of his aftershave.

‘Hmm, yeah this is nice’ you murmured, referring to Cillian’s hand massaging your lower back gently.

‘I am glad that I am not a woman’ Cillian chuckled just before he moved some of your hair out of your face which was when you looked up at him, starring into his deep blue eyes yet again while Richard Gere was taking Julia Roberts over the piano.

‘I always wanted to do this…on a piano’ you said quietly, causing Cillian to chuckle again but then lean forward, pressing his lips onto yours gently.

You loved the feeling of his soft lips on yours and gave into the kiss which was long, gentle and passionate.

Then your lips drifted apart and you looked at each other full of questions before they met again, this time more intense than before, your tongues meeting and moving in sync.

‘I missed this’ Cillian whispered as your lips drifted apart, his hands caressing your face gently.

‘So did I’ you said quietly before wanting more, kissing Cillian again, not getting enough of his sweet lips.

You spent the remainder of the movie curled up against each other, touching each other and kissing each other until, finally, Richard Gere climbed up Julia Robert’s balcony ladder with a bunch of flowers, admitting his love to her.

‘God that is so damn romantic’ you said as your eyes began to water, Cillian looking at you somewhat confused.

‘If you say so’ he chuckled before giving you another kiss and taking the ice cream bowls to the dishwasher.

‘I should probably get home soon Cilly, I am pretty tired’ you said as you got up, following him to the kitchen but not really wanting to leave.

‘You can stay the night if you want’ Cillian said, his hands on your hips, pulling you close for another kiss.

You nodded shyly before asking him whether he would give your lower back another rub. No one had ever done this for you before and it felt amazing, taking away some of the awful pain.

‘I could give you a massage in bed’ he smirked, causing you to look at him with some confusion.

‘Are you being cheeky?’ you asked, thinking that he intends to get kinky with you which was not what you were after while on your period.

‘No, I am serious’ Cillian said before kissing you again briefly. ‘Let me show you what these hands can do’ he winked, causing you to laugh and follow him upstairs to his bedroom.

As soon as you arrived at the front of Cillian’s large bed, you were quick to take off your t-shirt and climb on the bed, wearing nothing but your cotton panties and warm socks.

Cillian momentarily disappeared, getting some sort of body lotion from beneath the sink.

‘That should work I guess’ he said before he climbed onto the bed with you, his eyes gazing over your mostly naked body for a minute before he squirted some of the cold lotion onto your back.

His hands were magic, working your upper back and then your lower back gently before he leaned down, trailing small kisses at the back of your neck.

Goosebumps were forming all over your skin and you wished that you didn’t have your period as, otherwise, you would have turned around and make him take you on his large and comfortable bed.

Eventually, after Cillian had massaged your back for almost 20 minutes, you turned around to face him, relaxed and even somewhat sleepy.

‘Fuck that felt good’ you giggled just before Cillian took off his t-shirt and tracksuit pants and lied down next to you, quickly throwing the large doona over you both in the hope that you wouldn’t notice his raging erection.

‘Feeling a little better?’ he asked and you nodded before thanking him for taking care of you.

‘You know I could help you with that?’ you smirked as you reached for his crotch, noticing how hard he was.

‘Not tonight’ Cillian said as he pushed your hand away gently, knowing that you were probably still in pain. But, none of this prevented him from pulling you closer towards him for more gentle kisses until, eventually, you curled up against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

‘Cillian?’ you murmured, looking up into his deep blue eyes once again.

‘Hmm’ he responded with a warm smile, his fingers running through your hair gently.

‘What is this between us?’ you wanted to know.

‘I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t stay away from you no matter how hard I try’ he responded, his tone soft and warm.

‘Then stop trying. I mean, why are you trying anyway?’ you chuckled as you continued to look up at him while playing with his chest hair.

‘For so many fucking reasons Y/N’ he responded.

‘Like what?’ you asked.

‘For starters, you are twenty years younger than me’ he explained and you knew that the age gap between you had been an issue for Cillian.

‘So? You know I prefer older men’ you reassured him.

‘I’ve seen the shit you went through with your ex-girlfriend. This is going to be worse and I know much bad press bothers you’ he explained, remembering reading the tabloids when your first long term relationship broke down.

‘I am willing to take my chances. What else?’ you asked.

‘We both just came out of failed relationships. I don’t think it’s smart to start dating again so soon’ Cillian said concerned.

‘Listen Cillian, I don’t expect to be your girlfriend or us going public. At the moment, you keep pushing me away every time we get closer and I wonder if we could just give this a chance. Let’s just keep it between us and see where it goes’ you suggested.

‘I would like that’ he then said before giving you another few kisses and turning off the light.

You were still curled up against Cillian and could feel the heat radiate from his body when you drifted off to sleep. Usually, you hated sleeping in other people’s beds but, that night, you felt comfortable and safe.

No one had ever treated you so well and you were happy with where you and Cillian were at and how far you had come after all the ups and downs.

You also remembered your relationship with Kurt. Being with Cillian was all so different to what you knew. It made you realise what you had missed out on.

You slept well through the night with Cillian holding you tight but, the following morning, you were woken up by an uncomfortable feeling beneath you.

You were quite vigilant when it came to your period and when you felt something sticky on your upper thigh, you got disturbed.

Woken by the unfamiliar feeling, your eyes drifted open slowly and you looked up. It was getting light outside which was when it clicked.

You remembered that you should probably have changed your tampon again before going to sleep and your heart began to pound heavily.

Feeling you wiggle around and moving the doona to the side, Cillian was slowly waking up himself, his arm falling over to the side searching for you.

But, you had scooted up and out of the bed which is when you noticed the two small blood stains on your upper thigh.

You quickly ran to the bathroom to wash them off and change what had to be changed but you knew what this meant.

You probably had gotten some stains onto Cillian’s sheet sheets as well and you weren’t ready to face this embarrassment.

‘What’s wrong Y/N?’ Cillian murmured as you returned from the bathroom.

‘I…I think…’ was all you managed to say as you pulled aside the doona and, as you had feared, noticed a small blood stain not only on the sheets but also on Cillian’s upper thigh, which was caught up in between your legs all night when you were sleeping.

You immediately began to shake nervously, feeling embarrassed by what had just happened.

‘Hey Y/N, what’s wrong?’ Cillian asked as he held out one of his hands, indicating for you to come back to bed as he was surprised by your reaction.

‘I am sorry Cillian but I think I stained your sheets and there is some on your thigh…I am so fucking sorry’ you said almost hysterical.

Cillian looked down at his thigh and the sheets for a brief moment, unsure about what the problem was until he noticed the blood stains.

‘So? I will wash the sheets and have a shower, who cares’ Cillian said with a raised eyebrow before pulling you onto him.

‘That’s so embarrassing’ you said but Cillian disagreed.

‘No, it’s natural. Don’t worry about it’ he said before kissing you passionately and you were surprised that he wasn’t bothered in the slightest. Kurt would have made a massive scene if you had ruined his fine cotton sheets like that.

As you were making out, sharing several kisses while grinding your bodies against each other to get some traction, you suddenly heard a loud female voice coming from the doorway.

‘You are fucking kidding me’ Amanda said loudly and in disbelieved as she saw you on top of Cillian half naked by that point.

‘Holy Fuck’ you shouted before quickly scooting beneath the doona.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Cillian asked somewhat angrily about the fact that she had just entered his house unannounced before getting up and pulling a t-shirt over his head.

‘Getting the last of my stuff. I told you I would come by over the weekend to grab it’ Amanda explained angrily.

‘Yes, and I would have expected you to use the fucking doorbell when you do’ Cillian said firmly before walking downstairs with her.

‘I cannot believe that Kurt was actually right’ Amanda said almost hysterical and you could hear her and Cillian argue from the bedroom.

‘Right about what?’ Cillian asked.

‘That you are fucking her. God that’s so disgusting, you know that? She is almost half your age…trading me in for a younger model, that’s something I never expected’ Amanda said with anger.

‘I didn’t trade you in for anyone Amanda. We broke up because you couldn’t get over your fucking jealousy’ Cillian explained.

‘Well, it was warranted it seems’ Amanda said.

‘I never fucking cheated on you’ Cillian yelled and it was at this point that Amanda began to shout, calling you and Cillian names.

Eventually, Cillian kicked Amanda out of his house and immediately called a locksmith before driving you home.

***First Date***

You didn’t expect to hear from Cillian for the remainder of the day, especially in light of what happened with Amanda and the fact that he told you last night that he wasn’t sure where this was going between you. But, to your surprise, at around 2 o’clock you received a call from him.

During the call, Cillian asked whether you felt like going for dinner with him at restaurant near your house.

Was this a date, you wondered? It sure sounded like a date. If it was a date, did it mean that he no longer cared about the implications he was concerned about previously after your talk last night?

You sure wanted to find out and accepted Cillian’s offer to take you for dinner and he picked you up at 6 o’clock, nice and early so that you had enough time to watch a movie at your place afterwards.

The restaurant was rather busy and Cillian had booked a nice booth in the corner, giving you some privacy.

He ordered a bottle of wine while you looked through the menu for some tapas to share. You enjoyed the same type of food and it was easy for you to agree on the dishes.

‘So, is this a date?’ you asked Cillian after the waitress had taken your order.

‘I suppose’ he chuckled before he took your hands into his, sharing a tender moment with you.

‘Good, because I was worried that our run in with Amanda this morning put you off a little. I’ve heard what she said to you’ you said quietly, knowing about Cillian’s reluctance when it came to dating you, a woman twenty years his junior.

‘If anything, it made me care even less about the reservations I have about us’ Cillian explained.

‘Well, hopefully, those reservations will disappear completely when you realise how awesome I am’ you joked just before the waitress brought out the first dish.

You enjoyed your dinner and wine despite the fact that a group of girls on a table nearby were watching you. You tried hard not to care, but the giggling and whispering bothered you more than it would usually have when you were out with someone else.

Eventually, one of the women from the table came over just as you and Cillian were about to leave, asking Cillian for photo which he declined politely.

The restaurant was only a short stroll from your apartment and you were ready to get your comfortable clothes on and watch a movie with Cillian.

Shortly after you arrived at your apartment, you got changed into a nightie, poured two glasses of wine and asked Cillian whether he could get the lighter from the top draw of your bedside table so that you could light some candles.

As you put the two glasses of wine onto your coffee table, you heard a loud buzzing coming from besides your bed and you recognised the sound immediately.

‘Cillian!’ you shouted as you watched Cillian play with one of your vibrators, a big grin running over his face.

‘Give it here. I said top draw, not bottom draw’ you chuckled as you took the vibrator out of his hand.

‘How does it work? It clearly won’t fit inside you’ he asked curiously, his grin getting bigger.

‘It’s called a wand and it is for clitoral stimulation only. I actually never used it because it’s too intense. My sister talked me into it, saying it’s the best thing ever. But I don’t know’ you explained, your face flushing with embarrassment.

‘Sounds interesting’ Cillian chuckled, which is when you noticed that Cillian had already lid the candles on your beside table.

‘Not really’ you said before you shuffed the vibrator back into the draw and, just as you came up, Cillian crashed his lips onto yours.

‘There are other things I’ve found in your draw’ Cillian said after your lips drifted apart and before he reached for the handcuffs and satin blindfold in your bedside table and threw them onto your bed.

‘Cillian, remember, I’ve got my period’ you giggled just as Cillian pulled your nightie over your head, leaving you in nothing but your panties.

‘I am aware. Just let me make you feel good’ he said, grinning again before pushing you onto the bed and hoovering over you.

‘Cillian, I am serious’ you giggled, his teeth grazing your neck gently.

‘Don’t worry, your panties are staying on and I promise that I won’t touch you down there’ he said reassuringly and, whilst you had no idea how he would get you off without touching your most intimate body part, you agreed and reluctantly lifted your hands over your head and allowed Cillian to tie your wrists against the bedhead with your leather cuffs.

Cillian then gently placed the blindfolds over your eyes, carefully tying the knot behind your head without catching your hair in between it.

You trusted him. Yet it was difficult for you to relax especially since, all of a sudden, you heard a familiar loud bussing sound again.

‘No no no, this vibrator is too intense. I never….oh my fucking god’ you moaned as you threw your head back into the pillow and arched your back as soon as the vibrator hit your clit through your thin cotton panties.

‘Fuck that’s sexy’ Cillian observed as he watched you squirm against your restraints and moan as he moved the vibrator over your clit in circle motions.

‘Don’t move’ he then chuckled as he placed the vibrator onto your clit and resting the handle on your stomach. You felt the weight on your bed lightening and heard him get up, walking away from you momentarily.

‘Fuck Cillian…don’t leave me like this’ you protested just before you heard the door of the fridge opening. What was he doing? Getting himself a beer?

Then, finally, you could feel his weight on the mattress again, right next to you.

His hands began to roam over your breasts and stomach while he pushed the wand back against your clit more firmly after tuning it up a notch.

‘No no no….oh god’ you moaned, your legs squirming.

‘If you do not stay still on your own, I will tie your legs up too’ Cillian said cheekily before pulling on each of your nipple piercings slightly. He knew that you loved it when he did this, subjecting you to this little bit of pain.

You inhaled sharply, wanting him to pull them again, but Cillian had other ideas and it wasn’t long until you felt something extremely cold on your left nipple.

‘Fuck, Cillian’ you moaned as ice cold water began to run down your left breast while he turned up the setting of the vibrator again.

The ice cold feeling soon moved to your right nipple, running down from it over your stomach like a cold stream of water.  By this time it was obvious to you that it was an ice cube which Cillian had placed into his mouth and which he was running over your breasts.

You could feel it melt slowly and the cold water ran all the way to your belly button followed by his hot breath.

Then, you could feel the entire ice cube slid down your stomach and all the way to the hem of your panties while, again, Cillian turned up the vibrator, reaching its highest setting.

‘Holy Christ’ you inhaled, trying as hard as you could to stay still.

You were close to climaxing and Cillian had to hold you down, securing your thighs so that you were unable to squirm away.

‘Oh fuck yes’ you screamed as, finally, your orgasm washed over you and you had no choice but to give into the sensation.

It was at this point that you heard a knock on the wall from the apartment beside yours, causing Cillian to chuckle as you had told him about the letter you received from your neighbour last week complaining about the noise level from your apartment when Cillian visited you the last time.

You eventually came down from your high and Cillian released his tight grip on you and turned off the vibrator before taking off your blindfolds and untying you from the bed.

‘Feeling better?’ he asked and, surprisingly, you did.

With a quick nod and thanks, you pulled Cillian on top of you for a passionate kiss before pushing him down onto the mattress beneath you.

Without words, you looked at him and suggestively bit your lips before reaching for his black Calvin Klein briefs and pulling them down.

‘You know I just love your cock…it’s fucking perfect’ you smirked as you starred at his erection before separating his legs, bending his knees up and taking your place between them.

Cillian scooted himself up in the bed so that he could watch you and you leaned forward to kiss him, loving and deep, before making your decent on his perfectly toned body.

When you finally reached his hard shaft, you kissed the tip of his cock suggestively before collecting his precum with your tongue.

Cillian’s hands knew what to do to help you now and he gathered up your hair and hold it out of the way as you lowered your head and take his cock into your mouth, moaning as your mouth is filled.

Cillian groaned as you finally took all of his length into your mouth and down your throat. You wanted to devour him and you took your time about it, pleasure slowly building, pressure teased and growing as you kept bobbing your head up and down.

Looking up at him while you wrapped your lips around his hard member turned him on incredibly and it didn’t take long for his breathing to become laboured.

By this point, his legs straighten, splayed out on either side of you while the frequency of his moans and groans increased.

You knew Cillian was getting close and you loved watching him moan with a slightly open mouth while you slowly and deliberately wrap your lips tightly on the head of his cock and take him deep into your throat again, all the way to the base.

Your eyes close on their own with the sensation and greed you feel and each time you rise you look into Cillian’s deep blue eyes, stopping to let him watch as you flick your tongue all over his frenulum and swollen pink tip.

His face suddenly changed and his mouth contorts. Cillian’s hands tighten, no longer simply holding your long hair out of the way but gripping your head with handfuls of your hair in both hands right at the scalp. He took control, pushing your head down hard, his cock filling your throat before letting go of you again.

‘Again’ you moaned, loving the way he takes charge and he complied with your request, grabbing your hair again and making you take his length all the way into your throat.

‘Fuck Y/N, I am close’ he moaned and, with him thrusting into your mouth and you bobbing your head at the same time, it wasn’t long until you felt it, the unmistakable spurt of cum into your mouth as his body is finally released.

You could taste him, feeling the slick cream on your tongue, holding it in your mouth as you milk the last drops. Then looking up, you see Cillian’s beautiful sexy smile and flushed cheeks, open your mouth and show him the cum pooled on your tongue.

Another groan escaped him as he watched you hold it, tilting your head back slightly while some drips escaped you and ran over your chin.

Looking at his face, completely turned on by what you were doing, you smiled wickedly and very deliberately closed your lips, looked at him, and swallowed.

‘God, why are you so fucking sexy?’ Cillian asked just as you moved up towards him and pressed your lips onto his.

‘I don’t know, I just am’ you winked before sharing another passionate kiss while his hands were roaming over your back.

After some pillow talk, you eventually curled up against Cillian, running your fingers through his chest hair while his right hand gently touched your cheek.

It didn’t take either of you long to fall asleep and you were still curled up against each other the next morning when you heard a loud knock on the door.

***Meeting June***

‘Will we ever be able to just wake up next to each other without being interrupted?’ Cillian growled as he turned over, ignoring the knock on the door completely. He was clearly not a morning person.

You jumped up quickly and threw on Cillian’s t-shirt which, the night before, had found it’s way to the floor besides your bed.

Wearing nothing but the t-shirt, some purple cotton panties and giant plush socks with small bunny rabbits on it, you walked to the door and opened it, thinking that, surely, it was just a delivery. Your local postman had a habit of arriving early and you were considering getting a postal box soon.

‘Good Morning Sis’ June said and it took you a few seconds to rub your eyes yawn before realising that you probably shouldn’t let her inside with Cillian lying in your bed completely naked.

But your sister didn’t ask for permission and barged inside, putting a bag of croissants and two coffees on to the kitchen counter.

‘What are you doing here?’ you asked surprised as she hung up her coat.

‘I know how shit you feel when you get your period and you didn’t come by the other night so I wanted to check on you, that’s all’ June explained just as she was walking through your loft, not having noticed Cillian yet as part of the view of the bed was covered by a large industrial style bookshelf.

‘Now is not a very good time’ you said nervously which was when she noticed clothes scattered across the floor.

‘Oh shit’ she giggled just before she bluntly looked past the large bookshelf.

‘Morning June’ Cillian chuckled just as he reached down to the floor to retrieve his briefs before pulling them beneath the doona and trying to discretely put them back on.

‘Holy fuck’ June shouted, her jaw dropping to the floor.

‘Jupp, swearing runs in the family’ Cillian chuckled before getting up from beneath the doona, wearing nothing but his black Calvin Klein briefs.

With a grin on his face, he walked over towards you and gave you a quick kiss before taking your coffee from your hand, taking a sip and telling you that he will go and have a quick shower.

He quickly retrieved his jeans from the floor and disappeared into the bathroom all while your sister’s eyes followed his every move.

‘Stop looking at him’ you demanded, giving your sister a nudge as it was obvious to you that she was checking out Cillian’s ass.

‘How the fuck did this happen? Did I just dream this?’ she asked as you were shyly drinking your coffee with some embarrassment, unsure how to answer her question.

‘Oh my god, he is the guy you were telling me about. This all makes sense now’ June said and you confirmed her suspicions and told her that you’ve resolved your differences.

You trusted your sister and told her about what you had discussed with Cillian the night before and that you were at his house, which is why you cancelled on her.

Eventually, Cillian came out of the bathroom, wearing his tight black jeans but not much else.

Your sister looked at him with some excitement, not even ashamed for drooling over the man you were involved with.

You noticed immediately, giving her another nudge just as Cillian stole the rest of your coffee.

‘Can you put your shirt on please’ you eventually said before handing Cillian one of the croissants and the jam from your fridge.

‘Well, I would, but you are wearing it’ Cillian reminded you, unbothered by the fact that your sister was in the same room.

You quickly disappeared behind the bookshelf and changed into your own clothes before handing Cillian his t-shirt and your sister sighed with some disappointment as he put it on.

Despite the fact that he had met your sister already, he felt somewhat awkward with your sister around and, after putting on his t-shirt, he left your apartment in order to get some more coffees, allowing you to update your sister on the situation.

While he was out, waiting for his coffee order at the nearby coffee shop, he received a call from his agent drawing his attention to a quite unfavourable article which had just appeared online, less than 30 minutes ago.

**************

OK! Magazine News 

Cillian Murphy following the Hollywood Trend?

Rumours have emerged suggesting a developing relationship between actor Cillian Murphy (43) and singer/songwriter Y/N L/N (23). This comes after Murphy has only last month been spotted at a Dublin fundraising event with long term girlfriend Amanda Winter and L/N was rumoured to be involved with local artist Kirsten Mann after having been spotted leaving Soho Bar together as little as three nights ago.

Music producer Kurt Meskin confirmed the break up from singer and songwriter girlfriend Y/N L/N earlier yesterday and revealed that the break up was due to a romance unfolding between Y/N L/N and actor Cillian Murphy. It is unclear how Kirsten Mann is involved and Meskin wasn’t able to comment on Mann’s relationship with L/N’s.

Murphy and L/N have been working together with others, including Meskin, on the United Arts and Music Festival since earlier this year. The festival is set to take place later this year and will feature L/N as well as Murphy’s long term girlfriend Amanda Winter.

Meskin said that he was saddened by L/N’s actions but has accepted her decision.

‘There is not much I can do. Unfortunately, these things happen but it’s simply sad to know that not only one, but two relationships have been destroyed by her actions’ Meskin said when referring to what sounds like an affair between L/N and Murphy.

It is not clear whether Murphy and Winter have since separated but it appears to be likely as L/N and Murphy were spotted in front of Le Maison Restaurant in Dublin late yesterday evening.

The picture appeared on Twitter shortly after the date night between Murphy and L/N and has since received a large number of comments as fans question what happened with Amanda Winter and criticise the twenty year ago gap between Murphy and L/N.

“Perhaps he’s following into the footsteps of other Hollywood actors like DiCaprio who like their girlfriends much younger” one person commented on Twitter.

Neither L/N or Murphy have commented on the rumours but, with L/N’s social media presence, it is probably just a matter of time until a statement is received.

  Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal   @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse   @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  @littlewierdalien  @sad-huffle-nerd  @theflamecrystal   @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @themissthang  @0ghostwriter0  @stylescanbeatmyback  @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni  @momoneymolife  @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03  @mcntsee​@cloudofdisney​ @missymurphy1985​​ @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @otterly-fey janelongxox  @uchihacumdump

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @margoo0 @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee  @daydreamingnymph  @fookingshelby   @chocolatehalo

[bangtae-sohotddaeng]

we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 4

(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)

pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader

rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)

summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -

Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?

warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed

genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack

words: 4.6 k

note: hey, y'all. i know i've been awol and i'm really sorry about it, but, well - first i went back to uni for a while and got busy with my classes and my boyfriend. but this lasted for, like, barely three weeks, and then i came back home and got covid. yep, i finally got unlucky. my parents got it, too, after me, and the three of us had been home quarantined and getting treated for the past month or so. we're in better health now, though, so i'm getting back into writing. here's hoping i pick up speed super quick! 💜

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gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

Your first week of heading this project with all its roadblocks and exhaustion, as it turned out, had merely been a taste of what was to come.

Your Wednesday at work began on a positive note, though. 

Towards the middle of the day, your phone rang, making both you and Jungkook jump. 

Cursing, you pursed your lips at Jungkook apologetically, and fished the device out. He nodded at you with a chuckle. 

Looking at your phone screen, you realised this was a call you'd been waiting for.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m calling to inform you that we’re done.”

Your eyebrows immediately hiked up your forehead. “Wow, really? That’s great news!”

“Yeah, the cleaners will be in tomorrow morning. You can move in by tomorrow evening.”

You actually grinned. “That’s such fantastic news! Thank you so much, Mister Lin. I’ll initiate your payment later, today.”

“Anytime, ma’am. Thank you.”

You disconnected the call with a happy sigh. Jungkook squinted at you. “That sounded like a fun conversation.”

You nodded, smiling. “Our team is moving into an apartment, tomorrow.”

“Wow! You’ve been in the hotel for what, ten days now? Must feel nice!” Jungkook’s eyes sparkled.

You nodded with a sigh, shutting your eyes in relief. “Oh, yes. We’d made reservations at the hotel for fifteen days. We had to move into the apartments within this week. This feels so amazing. I’ll finally be able to prepare my own food.”

Jungkook giggled at that, scrunching his nose up. “Where’s the apartment? Hope it isn't too far.”

“Oh, no, it’s a few blocks away from here. Which is why we had to book a hotel in the first place. We needed two four-bedroom apartments on the same floor, in this specific radius, in three days.” You paused to laugh when Jungkook’s jaw dropped with a gasp. “It was a very hard find. But our agent was sharp, he did a great job.” You clapped your hands together. “I cannot wait to check out of the damn hotel.” 

Jungkook nodded in understanding. “Hotels are hard. It could be a seven star luxurious penthouse, but you’d still wanna run away from it after a while.” 

He seemed to be speaking from his personal experience, but running away from a seven star luxurious penthouse? You couldn’t relate. You hated your hotel because the curtains weren’t dark enough and the mattress was stiff and you couldn’t afford getting any of them changed. You also hated having to order Chinese every single day, but you also knew you’d be emptying your bank account if you got anything else.

None of this would trouble someone living in a seven star’s penthouse. But you didn’t want to make Jungkook uncomfortable by stating any of this when he was just trying to be a bit compassionate and empathetic.

“Food doesn’t bother me that much, though,” Jungkook continued after a thoughtful pause. “We’re usually either on diets or order takeout. I personally hate the mattresses.”

“Oh yes,” you sighed deeply, the kink in your upper back in absolute agreement. “I’m not really a fan of sleeping anywhere other than my mattress back at home, but hotel beds are the worst of it.”

Jungkook chuckled, nodding. “I completely understand. You remember that story I told you about lugging my beddings over to our dorm when we first moved into one?”

You nodded with a laugh. “Oh, yes. The rest of the boys were getting new mattresses, and you were busy dragging your mattress from your parents’ house. It may sound hilarious, but it’s actually very relatable.”

Jungkook looked a bit bashful as he nodded. “You know, when we first started preparing for our first tour, I had a half a mind to take it with me.”

You barked out a loud laugh at that, the mental image of Jungkook dragging a seven by four piece of bedding around and stuffing it into trailers. He laughed, too.

“Yeah, it was funny and really stupid. Half the time we didn’t even get to sleep in the bed we had taken with us, but whenever we did, I was nodding off the second my head hit the pillow.” Jungkook’s eyes sparkled as he went down the memory lane. “That one was nothing in comparison to the tours we go on now, but it was our first ever experience so it was still pretty difficult adjusting, Tour schedule is a different level of hectic, you know? You don’t have time to eat, you don’t have time to sleep. Just rehearsals and fittings and sound checks. I would fall asleep in makeup chairs,” he confessed with a chuckle, shaking his head fondly, “and when noona would wake me up, I would recall how I wanted to bring my mattress here. Such naivete.”

You smiled, nodding along. You hadn’t yet gotten to the tour discussion yet, as it was planned out for the third month of your blueprint, so all of this was brand new to you. But, at this moment you didn’t want to bring up plans and blueprints. Jungkook was compassionately being candid with you. You were becoming friends, beyond your professional boundaries.

Sighing, you decided to impart something personal, too. “When I moved to the States and got into this company, I rented the apartment with an old friend who was already living there. And it wasn’t my first time living in a house away from my parents. I’d been a university student, lived in dorms then rented apartments, both solo and shared.” Jungkook looked at you pensively, nodding with a little furrow in his eyebrows. “But when I got to this apartment, got all this brilliant furniture set up, all new and fresh, I couldn’t sleep. I missed my home.” Jungkook’s eyes softened, lips pressing down into an understanding smile. “Not the dorm, not the studio I’d been renting—I missed my childhood bed.” You exhaled, recalling all your sleepless nights. “There's this connection you build with the place you call home. I’m sure you must have started to feel this way about your dorms as time went on.”

Jungkook softly smiled, nodding as he looked into space. “Very correct. Tour life made me realise this exact fact.”

You both sat in a few minutes’ quiet, basking in the nostalgic atmosphere you’d built around you.

Then Jungkook grinned at you. “Now you’ll get to experience real Seoul life.”

You laughed. “Oh, yes. And I honestly can’t wait for it. The local markets, the grocery stores, everything. Everything here is very unlike home.”

“I’m sure you’ll love it!” Jungkook exclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows smugly.

You went back to work soon after, with Jungkook tossing in questions about your move and suggestions about what all you should do in the city, every now and then.

It was a good, productive, joyous day. You were hardly even tired when you got back to your hotel to spend your last night on that stiff ass mattress.

Thursday had started off pretty much the same, except for you guys taking a slightly early departure to spare some extra time to set your new place up after your belongings were moved.

By late night, you were all settled in two, pleasant, well-furnished, well ventilated four-bedroom apartments, next to each other. Your housemates consisted of Sana and Simon. Needless to say, you weren’t a fan. But you needed a room to build the office in and you preferred it to be under the same roof as your bedroom because you tended to work odd hours when you couldn’t sleep. Simon and Sana volunteered to share the apartment with the office and you, so you didn't exactly have room for complaint.

From getting the apartment cleaned one last time to accept you all, to ensuring none of you had left anything significant behind in your hotel rooms—you didn’t trust the hotel staff enough to not misuse it if they found anything related to BTS in one of your rooms—you had been the one that took care of it all. It was kinda on you, because you didn’t trust anyone from your team to do the latter responsibly. So, quite naturally, you were dead on your feet by the time you got into your soft as a cloud beddings at nearly 3 o’clock in the morning. Sleep pulled you in the seconds you rugged your covers up.

You were very dead on your feet when you got to the BTS dorm, five hours after you’d gotten into bed. You hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in your system for more than a few weeks, now, but man did you have a hangover.

So it goes without saying that when you bumped into someone on your way to Jungkook’s studio, your eyes were half shut. You wouldn’t have thought much of it and might have slinked away with a mumbled apology, if not for the familiar voice than greeted you.

“Good morning. Looks like you had a rough night?”

You blinked, miles away from sleep within a second when your eyes met a familiar pair of brown ones. Taehyung was dressed in the routine BTS loungewear that consisted of a pastel t-shirt that was one too many sizes bigger on him and dark sweatpants that covered his feet. His hair was the usual black and curly, mostly pulled away from his forehead with a few tendrils dangling over his brows.

Your interaction with him had been meagre throughout this week, only consisting of respectful nods of greetings and waves of goodbyes. You’d meant to ask him how Simon was doing and how he felt about his ideas being taken now, after you’d had a talk with Simon about it. But you didn’t know what you would do if he said he was hating how things were and wanted you to do something about it. So you had kept your mouth shut and watched from the sidelines as you tried to gauge Taehyung’s inner feelings by his facial expressions. 

He was an extremely closed off guy, never really letting his face show what he was truly feeling. But sometimes you would catch him looking into space as if he was zoning out of his conversation with Simon. Now, he could very well be thinking deeply about something Simon said—you really couldn’t be sure with the guy. But it had you worried, nevertheless.

God. Why did Simon have to pick out Taehyung’s name?

By the time you realised you’d been staring at him for too long, he had realized it too. “Anything wrong with my… hair?” he innocently questioned, threading his fingers through the front of it.

“No!” you yelped, making him flinch. “I mean, no, it’s not that. I, um. We were moving into our apartments last night and it got kinda late. My brain’s processing things a bit slow, today.”

Taehyung chuckled at that, nodding with his teeth on display. “It’s okay. Congratulations on the move. Hotels suck.”

You sighed. “Tell me about it.”

Awkward silence hung over the two of you as you looked at the floor, at your feet, at his feet, tried to discern if his pants were very dark gray or blue, cleared your throat, scratched your ear, met his shifty eyes again— 

“How…how is working with Jungkook?”

His question caught you off-guard. You looked at him in surprise. “Uh…it’s, um. It’s good. Very comfortable, very productive. It’s great, actually.”

Taehyung nodded, pursing his lips as he looked down again. “Simon has been a better listener this week. Did you talk to him?”

A weight was lifted off your shoulders on hearing that. You grinned at him with all your teeth. “Really? That is really good to know. Comforting, even. I did talk to him, yes.”

Taehyung looked into your eyes as his lips spread into a slow, soft smile. “Thank you so much for doing this for me. I thought you would think I was stupid for demanding so much, but…” He shrugged his shoulder, one corner of his lips ticking farther up his cheek. “You made it work. I feel so much better now.”

You exhaled, willing your heart to not beat so fast. It was your job to ensure they were all comfortable, this was part of what you were getting paid for. But somehow, the way Taehyung seemed to have taken it so personally made you not wanna mention the fact in the moment.

Also, he didn’t know how this wouldn’t last. You’d been giving Simon tips to handle himself professionally around Taehyung, literally every single day. It kept the wheel running, but it was tiring both of you out, immensely. Simon was out of his element and you were getting slowly overwhelmed and under-rest due to the amount of responsibilities piling on for you. You were determined to talk this out with your boss, this Sunday, and find a way out before you broke.

Right now, though, you gave Taehyung a bashful smile. “I wanted you to be comfortable and feel good about working on this project, Tae. I am constantly working out plans to better it.”

Taehyung looked at you with so many emotions swimming in his eyes, that the intensity of it almost made you wanna look away. But you didn’t. Instead, you tried to decode what any of it could mean. 

This time the silence between you two was not awkward in the least. It was charged—heavy with this unknown tautness between your mind and heart and this indecipherable look in Taehyung’s eyes.

“Tae?”

The trance was broken by Jin, startling both of you.

He walked into the halfway from behind Taehyung, peering around him with a frown. His eyes widened when he saw you. You immediately bowed, always extremely cautious about being respectful around BTS’ oldest member. “Good morning, Jin-ssi.”

He chuckled at your address, insisting that you didn’t have to bow every single time. “Just the respectful good morning is fine. Did you just get here?”

You nodded, subtly glancing at Taehyung whose eyes were slightly rounded and still stuck on you. Why was he acting like you two were caught by Jin? You’d just been greeting each other and catching up!

Right?

Right.

“Ah! There comes Riya!” Jin suddenly announced the arrival of his partner on your team, cutely waving at someone behind you.

Your teammate Riya walked into the hallway after you, having walked here on her own insistence. “Good morning, Jin-ssi. Taehyung-ssi. Boss.”

You smiled at her, nodding in acknowledgement of the respect she paid. “Where’s Simon?” you questioned.

“Just here!” the man himself responded, rushing in after Riya. 

You met Taehyung’s eyes, and he nodded with a meaningful look and a small smile on his lips. Your heart felt light.

The unexpectedly happy and positive start you’d gotten in the morning lasted with you the whole day, making your time with Jungkook a lot fun, and fulfilling in terms of work, too.

When Sunday came in and you received your boss’ call, her first question was about how well you were settled in the apartments, followed by how you’d handled things with Simon. You had done a decent job on the former, but the latter was gradually turning out to be a pain in your ass. You told your boss as much.

“Drag it out for another week, and then design a change of gameplan. If he really isn’t doing a good enough job by himself, it’s better if he works with someone else. This whole charade will tire both of you out. And V would be facing issues, too, if Simon’s heart isn’t into it.” Your boss had looked at you solemnly through the computer screen.

“Simon’s heart’s a bit too much into it, boss, that’s the whole issue.” You had derisively chuckled at your joke, but her words had left you thinking into the late hours of the night.

Taehyung had definitely been facing issues, you’d heard it from the man himself. And the respite he thought he’d gotten this week was momentary, because neither you nor Simon could honestly keep up with it for too long. And it was very unfair to Taehyung. This book was supposed to showcase a part of all the boys. A biography was the culmination of one’s whole life—something very personal, precious and endearing. The process of its creation should have been a similar experience for the boys, too.

You really would have to assign someone else to Taehyung.

On Monday morning, you knocked at Simon’s door at seven.

“Just this week, and then you switch,” you told him.

“Really? Oh, my God, thank you so much!” Simon cried out.

“Please accommodate him the best you can.” You sighed. “I’m too tired to give you notes everyday. Will you be able to manage?”

“I’ll accommodate him the best I can, just as you said.”

You hadn’t taken his word for it, but it seemed like the knowledge of his misery ending soon had done Simon well. He did a fair job of maintaining his professional composure, and on Tuesday, when you went in to grab a cup of coffee from the kitchen, you saw the two of them laughing about something, too. Taehyung had politely greeted you, exchanging more than a nod for the first time in more than ten days—minus that one altercation in the hallway, of course—and then immediately went back into the discussion.

He seemed to be really into it.

It made you feel a lot better. 

On Friday, you and Jungkook went for a walk by the pool in the late afternoon with a cup of ice cream in your hands. He brought up Taehyung, asking how the elder was doing.

“You told me he was having some trouble with his partner?” Jungook asked, biting into a huge glob of chocolate ice-cream like a maniac and braving the brainfreeze with a straight face.

You grimaced at the sight. Then exhaled, plopping a spoonful from your own ice cream into your mouth. “He’s doing a lot better, now. It might not last, though”

Jungkook, instead of quizzing your ominous statement, nodded in understanding. “Does it have something to do with what I told you about hyung’s personality?”

You sighed. “Pretty much. We might have to change his partner.”

Jungkook paused at that. “Is there a possibility that…” He trailed off, confused, doe eyes looking at you.

You couldn’t lie to him. You shrugged. “Everything’s on the plate.”

On Sunday evening, you decided to gather the team for the call with your boss. Sending them a quick message once you all got home, you hopped into the bathroom for a long, relaxing showe. 

When you came back, you stepped into your office to the welcome sight of your team occupying bean bags and chairs and spread across the entire surface area of the place.

Collectively, you all brought up Taehyung’s partner with the Editor-in-Chief.

“Why don’t you do it, Y/N?” your boss questioned you after the rest of them had briefed her with their progress so far and detailed out their future plans with their assigned boys.

You sighed. “I have been doing just as great as the rest of them, boss. It wouldn’t be ideal for me to stop working with Jungkook after we’ve been making such great progress.”

Your boss took her glasses off, the highlight on her nose glistening as her movement caught light. She shook her and then sighed. “One of you is going to have to make a sacrifice.”

Simon, rightfully, flinched with a guilty face.

“So either you talk one of your team members into doing it, or you do it yourself. You’ve got one whole week to discuss it. Tell me what you decide, next Sunday.”

You kept tossing and turning in your bed. You’d either have to force one of your team members. Or you’d have to disappoint Jungkook. Your prospects really weren't looking good. 

You would like to believe you and Jungkook had become friends in these three weeks. It is impossible to remain a stone-faced stranger with someone literally relaying the story of his entire life to you. And besides that, too, Jungkook was a very likeable guy. He was a curious soul with a myriad of interests. Taking notes on literally every topic would always branch out into an enthusiastic conversation between the two of you. 

Sighing as you recalled how the two of you had shared your roller-skating experience with each other just today, you shut your eyes and decided to finally go to sleep.

On Monday morning, your team members were gathered in your new office to begin with the scripting process of the biography. As you got down to comparing notes and checking off boxes, each one of you resolutely ignored the gigantic elephant in the room—that fact that one of you would not be working with the same person when this week was up.

Strangely, this forcible change of partners was weighing down on all of you not just because of how much more labour it would cost, but on an emotional level, too. Which was a very unfamiliar concept, at least to you. You never got attached to clients, knowing it would only cause hindrances when you had to criticize their work—which was why they were talking to you in the first place. You had been somewhat lucky too, in a way, because it wasn't easy for you to get attached to people.

But Jungkook turned out to be just a really easy person to get along with. You really had become friends.

This, you suddenly realised, would also mean that Jungkook would make friends with another partner just as easily.

“Guys, remember—it’s not just their story that we’re writing, it’s ours too!” you announced to your team, clapping your hands to raise their spirits as the six of them worked on their computers. “They’re the narrators, sure, but we are the writers. Use your words wherever you find fit, do not hesitate to trim, omit or add. This is what we were hired to do.” 

At noon, you all ordered takeout and took a break.

“We’re all really on schedule, boss,” Riya, Jin’s partner, spoke up from her spot across the room from you. Her rounded eyes narrowed suddenly, and she winced. “Well… except Simon, but we kinda already expected that.”

Simon, seated on a bean bag to your immediate right, cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“You’ve been really shitty at your job, Si,” Areum, Jimin’s partner, commented, looking at Simon through her round framed glasses, her face displaying disappointment.

“He really has,” you added. “But it cannot go on like this. You’ll have to be really professional with your partner, this time round, Simon. You’ve really done a lot of damage with Taehyung. Boss won’t just pull you off the project if something like this happens again, she’ll fire you.”

Simon visibly gulped, nodding with his wide eyes fixated on you.

“So, who’s gonna take his place?” Nathan, Yoongi’s partner, butted in, prompting Sana to stop stretching. “Have you decided yet?” he asked you.

You exhaled. “Why not ask dear Simon who he wants to work with? The last time he kept protesting about the assigned choice, and I didn't listen. Maybe he’d have done better if the selection of his partner was voluntarily done by him.”

All eyes turned to Simon. He cleared his throat, looking beyond nervous. “Please don’t put me in this spot. One of you will have to let go of a month’s worth of hard work for me, as it is.”

You looked around the room. “Any one of you willing to switch?”

Five pairs of eyes turned to look at you incredulously. “No one’s gonna willingly give their research up for you, Simon,” Charlotte, the only redhead on your team and Hoseok’s partner, spoke with a roll of her eyes. “None of us.”

“Simon,” You sighed. “Choose.”

And then Simon squeezed his eyes shut and fisted both his hands to whisper, “Jungkook…maybe?”

Of fucking course.

Later that night, you had calmed yourself down enough to tell yourself that everything was gonna be okay. You could be a darn hardass professional when you needed to be. In fact, being humble and empathetic was usually what posed a challenge to you. You would very smoothly transition into working with Taehyung, you were sure of it.

You belatedly thought about how much change these past three weeks had already brought about in your nature. You were starting to show a lot more compassion than you’d thought yourself capable of. That kind of came in this job’s description, because biographies made people vulnerable, and vulnerable interviews required compassion. 

You had to unlearn some of the things you’d picked up over the span of your adult life to save yourself from hurt, and also the guilt that came with hurting others. Jungkook also helped, in a way. His openness and just the overall cheerful vibe that his nature eluded made you want to be more of a friend to him than a writing guide or an interviewer.

You wondered how Taehyung would be. 

There was something undeniably intense and mysterious about him. Now, you weren’t naive enough to want to “unravel” the guy’s mysteries, but you sure were irked and curious. Maybe he was one of those kinds of artists that literally lived in their art.

Back when you didn’t work in this company with this hectic schedule and had enough spare time on your hands to write, you used to pride yourself to be one of these kinds of artists, too. You lived in your stories, kept building characters up wherever you went, whatever you did. You wondered if it was something similar with Taehyung for music. 

You would find out, eventually. There was no point pondering it so much.

Sighing, you turned off your side lamp and decided to retire for the night.

Your writing week was gliding past smoothly. It was just Wednesday, and you all, ahead of the schedule, were at the verge of finishing up your writing parts.

“Are we super efficient or did we sign up for a longer duration of time than needed for this whole project?” Sana questioned, typing away on her laptop.

You snorted. “Or maybe, we didn’t design the blueprint with as much uniformity as we’re required to.”

“You don’t always have to critique everything, boss,” Charlotte, Hoseok’s partner chimed in, flipping her long mane of auburn hair off her shoulder as she shot you a look. 

You glared right back at her. “Uh, actually, I do. That’s kind of my job here.”

You’d been harsher than was needed, making the whole room go quiet. Only the clicking of keyboards echoed around you all for a while.

“Where’s Simon?” Nathan, Yoongi’s partner, asked after some time.

You sighed. “In his room, finishing up his writing work there. He doesn’t feel comfortable sitting between all of us because, and I quote, y’all give off really judgy vibes that fuck with my concentration.”

“That might actually be true,” Areum, Jimin’s partner, mumbled in Korean under her breath.

“Did you mail Manager Woo about the switch yet, boss?” Nathan asked you as you got up to get a refill of your coffee.

You exhaled. “Nope, I'm stalling,” you confidently confessed, leaving the office to make a trip to the kitchen. On your way back, you knocked at Simon’s door before peeking in. “You doing okay?” you asked him flatly.

Simon gave you a nod, not moving his gaze from the laptop screen. You rolled your eyes and came back to the office.

“Should one of us do it? If it won’t look too unprofessional?” Sana asked.

You wrinkled your nose. “It would look grossly unprofessional, Sana.” You pursed your lips as you sat behind your laptop again. “Fine, I’ll do it right now.”

You took a sip from your coffee, and opened your email. This was final, now — no coming back.

You were officially gonna start working with Kim Taehyung.

gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

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series masterlist

Tags: @tangledsparkles​ @hoefortaeshands​ @getmemyfries

[mcwriting]

Live from New York, it’s Saturday Night!

In which the reader is the musical guest at Saturday Night Live the same week Tom Holland is hosting.

Ship: Reader x Tom Holland

Word Count: 5747 (what in the heck?? my longest piece ever lol)

Warnings: Mild alcohol consumption

Rating: K

Preface: I mention the NBC page program, which is like an intense internship/fellowship with the company where college grads work with at least 3 parts of the company over a year to get job exposure. A lot of famous actors and actresses were pages!

***

Walking into 30 Rockefeller Center on Wednesday afternoon was a surreal experience for sure. As a young NBC page led you through hallways and up to studio 8H, you were getting butterflies.

On one side of the hall was a sign for studio 8G, which hosted Late Night with Seth Meyers, but the page turned the other way, guiding you through doors to the Saturday Night Live studio.

There was hustle and bustle all around you as she took you to your green room, which had a sign printed with your name on it over an NYC skyline. You almost pinched yourself.

You had known for about a month that you’d be performing as the musical guest for SNL the upcoming weekend, but now that you were here for your first rehearsal, things were getting real. 

When your manager had asked if you wanted to play the show, she’d been met by your enthusiastic “YES! Are you kidding me?!” It was even better when she mentioned who the host would be:

Tom Holland.

You’d watched every season of SNL since you were probably in middle school. You could easily name off every cast member but would have to remember to keep your cool until after Saturday.

Another thing you’d need to stay cool about was Spiderman himself. You had the biggest crush on him, but who your age didn’t? He was charming and British, disregarding physical features. You were most nervous to meet him. 

The page let you put your things down and took you to Lorne Michael’s office where he and some of the production team wanted to talk to you about your set. You’d only get two songs, but one of the writers also asked if you’d want to be in a couple sketches, too.

Later that evening would be the normal pitch meeting, where writers who’d spent all Tuesday afternoon and night into the early hours of Wednesday writing finally got to show the host and cast their ideas. They’d narrow it down to eight, so you were surprised they wanted you in not one, but two sketches.

It wasn’t difficult to say yes to that. You wouldn’t be present for the pitch meeting, however, because in just a few short hours you’d be heading down to studio 6B to film a segment for Jimmy Fallon’s show. 

Your management team stayed behind at the hotel to work on details for a couple concerts you had and were planning to head up to the studio before your interview.

After the meeting, you were shown around to familiarize yourself with the studio and stage before starting your first rehearsal. For one song, it would be just you and a piano, but the other song would have a band playing while you sang and did some limited choreography. 

You sat in front of the keys of a beautiful grand piano, stretching your fingers. Someone requested you play one of your songs, so you looked around, as if asking for permission. Everyone in the room nodded for you to play, so you began the tune of your favorite song from your album.

Your voice wasn’t warm and there wasn’t a mic on you, but you got lost in the lyrics and chords like you always did. By the song’s end, you’d drawn a small crowd. They clapped and you blushed when you finished, closing the lid and standing to do a sheepish curtsy. 

Most of the small crowd dissipated and you were talking to some crew about stage setup when someone interrupted you.

“Sorry to bother, but that was incredible. Can’t wait to hear how good you’ll be this weekend,” said a male voice with a distinct London accent. You turned to find Tom Holland right in front of you. 

“Oh, well, thank you! I- I uh, didn’t expect to meet you so soon,” you stuttered, thrusting out a hand. “Y/n y/l/n.”

He gripped your hand firmly and shook it, nodding his head once, too.

“Tom Holland. You know I was excited when I heard you’d be performing the same week I host. The last film I did, we listened to your music like, all the time. You could say I’m a fan.”

Was this real? Tom Holland was a fan of you!? You chuckled.

“I could definitely say the same for you. I love your movies. ‘Been a fan for years.”

You both smiled happily and Tom was about to respond when the page who’d been showing you around the whole time came up.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Miss y/l/n, they’ve asked to get your measurements in costuming if that’s okay.”

“Oh! Yes of course!” you said to her, then turned to Tom. “Sorry. It was nice meeting you! See you around?”

“Of course! Nice meeting you also!”

As the young girl led you away again, you missed where a younger brother of Tom said to him,

“Think you’re in love yet?”

***

After an eventful visit at the Tonight Show that included you and Jimmy playing box of lies and performing one of your songs for the audience, you headed back up to 8H alone. 

You’d remembered leaving something in your dressing room and had let your team go on back to the hotel without you. You’d felt confident that you could sneak back to your hotel safely without causing a big ruckus. It was only a few blocks away.

You were digging in your bag for your phone when you bumped into someone. Each of you said a quick “oh, sorry!” before looking to see who the other was.

It was Tom again.

You hadn’t realized before, but his room was the one right next to yours. It made sense, both of you being guests and all, but you were still caught off guard. 

“Headed out?” he asked. You felt yourself blushing a little.

“Yeah, well. I just finished at Fallon’s and they don’t need me back here until tomorrow so I’m heading back to my hotel to order pizza for my whole team and then crash,” you laughed. 

“Oh yeah? That sounds about like what we’re doing,” Tom gestured back to his brother and best friend, who you shook hands with gladly. 

You talked as you wound through the halls and quickly realized you were all staying at the same place.

“That’s crazy! We were just going to get a cab if you want to just come with us. I’m already paying for it, so...” he offered. You were surprised.

“What? No, no, I couldn’t just ride on your coattails like that,” you started.

“No seriously, y/n. It’s fine! We’re literally all going to the same place and no one can bother us from a taxi cab. You don’t even have to talk to us if you don’t want to.”

You looked at the other two boys questioningly and they nodded, encouragingly nodding for you to accept the offer. 

“Okay, okay! If all of you are fine with it, I’ll come.”

They cheered and you continued in happy conversation as you headed downstairs. A doorman called a cab for you and you piled in. Harry took the front and you offered to take the middle, sandwiched between Harrison and Tom.

Never in a million years had you expected to be in such close proximity to one, much less all, of them. It was a short drive and the driver took you to a back entrance, the place celebrities usually entered.

You still weren’t quite used to the star life. Up until you’d hit it big, it was normal for you to do pretty much everything yourself and stay in relatively cheap hotels like any other person.

Now, your management team handled most things and you were staying in five star places with secret celebrity entrances and prices that would probably make your grandmother faint.

Inside, you’d also realized you were on the same floor, both of you staying in large suites used by many elites over the years. You parted ways, anticipating seeing each other in the morning for rehearsals and later that evening when you’d be doing Seth Meyers’ show together.

***

The studio was buzzing when you entered Thursday morning. Your small team headed straight for the dressing room as you were taken away to a sketch read. Both sketches the writers had asked you about had been greenlit, so you were excited to work on them

“Morning, y/n. How was the pizza?” Tom asked cheekily when you first walked in. A couple of people passing by gave strange looks but said nothing.

“Well, who doesn’t love a good New York slice, huh? I’d say it was pretty darn good. And you?”

“We ended up getting room service, but pizza’s definitely next on my list,” he joked before you were handed scripts and asked to review them. The writers and cast were trying to figure out some basic spacing as you looked over your lines and cues.

You finally got to work rehearsing the two sketches. You broke a couple times when Kate landed a punchline and when Beck accidentally tripped. 

When they decided to move on from those, you where whisked away to wardrobe and makeup to shoot "bumper” stills and videos, the photos and clips between sketches and commercial breaks. 

You were excited to see how they envisioned your style and personality and would bring it to life. The photographer collaborated with you and shot some really incredible photos, both serious and goofy.

Next you were back in music rehearsals figuring out more about the staging and running some diagnostic sound checks. Once lunchtime came around, your stomach was growling.

You just barely caught Tom as you went for lunch, he was finishing up as you built your plate. As it always seemed, you only got a few words in with each other before someone was dragging Tom off for his own photoshoot.

You got to talk to Harry and Harrison for a little bit, too, until your manager asked to have a quick meeting about your schedule. Once you were free, you were taken to costuming to try a few things on and figure out hair styles that would fit the show.

There were more music rehearsals and you read the new scripts (as they had already been rewritten twice now). You were pretty tired by the time someone asked you to head across the hall to prepare for Late Night.

You grabbed a quick bite to eat on your way out of 8H and finished is by the time you were in the doors of 8G and a page led you to your green room, once again located next to Tom’s. 

Since you were both doing SNL together, you and Tom were going to be interviewed together, but you also had the added bonus of being the musical guest again. 

You only needed to rehearse a couple times to get the sound down (it’s not like it’s live, so you could easily restart if something went wrong). Once you were finished, they brought in the studio audience and you got a chance to go back to your green room and chill for a little while. 

Seth had a couple other guests, so while you were waiting, you knocked on Tom’s door to greet him and discuss the talking points each of your management had given Seth.

As the in-house band was warming up, Seth came into the room.

“Well I didn’t expect to see both of you in here,” he joked, shaking both of you hands. Tom had been on the show before, but this was your first time meeting the host. 

After a couple minutes, Seth was informed of the time and made his leave, going out to meet his audience and begin taping. After his monologue and the first guest, you and Tom were called to the stage.

“Now for our nexts guests we have both the host and musical guest of this weekend’s Saturday Night Live, Tom Holland and y/n y/l/n! Come on out here!”

Tom gestured for you to go ahead of him, so you walked out, waving to the cheering crowd. You took the seat nearest to Seth’s desk. 

“Well hello, there. Good to see you two,” he greeted as you settled in. “Welcome back, Tom, and welcome for the first time, y/n.”

“Wait this is your first time here?” Tom asked incredulously. You laughed.

“Yeah! Up until a few months ago like, no one knew who I was. Not even Seth!” you poked right back. Seth jokingly agreed. 

The interview went well, both of you telling some funny stories and explaining how the week was going. Finally, you cut for a commercial.

“Alright we’ll return with y/n and Tom after this short break!”

You were right back to the interview after the commercial “break.” Towards the end of it, you all got off on the subject of alcohol.

“You are 21, right?” Tom asked you. You rolled your eyes and gave an exaggerated hair flip.

“Yes, I am of the legal age. You should know as well as anyone what it’s like to have a baby face,” you roasted, causing the audience to go “ohh!” and Tom and Seth to raise their eyebrows.

“Wow looks like we’ve got a little rivalry now. The real question is who can handle their alcohol better. I think we oughta bring you two back for my day drinking segment to settle this!”

Both of you overconfidently pointed at yourselves when Seth asked who was better with alcohol.

“Now that’s an idea I can get behind!” you exclaimed before the interview finally wrapped up and you got ready to go sing. Tom and Seth stayed at the desk while you performed, which thankfully only took one shot.

As you wrapped up the show, you gave final waves to the audience and then headed offstage. You and Tom walked through the halls together and Seth caught up with you after finishing his outro.

He thanked you both for being on the show, you took a few pictures, then talked for a while. Seth was eventually called away to look at something, so you said your goodbyes to him and continued towards the green rooms.

“You were great tonight. Your voice is phenomenal,” Tom said to you. “and honestly I can’t believe you haven’t been doing talkshows that long. You’re a natural.”

“I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I love to talk about myself,” you quipped. “But seriously, thank you. Everything leading up to now has happened so fast, it’s hard to really gauge if things are going well or not.”

“I can relate to that. It’s hard, but having my family and brothers helps keep me grounded, you know? Harrison, too. They know that they can call me out and, yeah, I might get mad at first, but I understand that they’re keeping me from getting a big head.”

“Yeah I can’t imagine how overnight it must have been for you. My family and friends definitely don’t miss the chance to poke a little fun here and there to keep my ego down, too. You know, it’s nice talking to someone who understands for once. I love them, but unfortunately they’ll never fully get what it’s like, but you do,” you smiled.

You talked a little more, then spilt off to actually go to get ready to leave the building for the night. The upcoming Friday was going to be a long one.

Once again, you let your manager and assistant and everyone leave ahead of you. Regardless of whether you would hitch a ride with Tom again, you could find your way around easily.

You waited by the door until you heard their voices nearing and the boys came into the hallway.

“Oh y/n, you’re still here, too,” Harry said.

“Yeah, I was trying to decide what to do for dinner tonight before I head back to the hotel.”

“Well we’re going to grab some pizza if you want to join us,” Harrison offered happily, causing Tom to look at him funny. 

“Y/n probably doesn’t want to be bothered by us all day every day and plus, she had pizza last night, I’m sure she doesn’t want it again. Sorry, y/n, don’t feel pressured by this div,” Tom said apologetically.

“Honestly, I could eat pizza everyday, so that’s not an issue, and I honestly love hanging out with you guys. You remind me of my friends back home. If y’all want to eat together, I seriously would not mind.”

“Really?” Tom asked incredulously, then recomposed himself. “Well, yeah, sure. We were gonna head back to the hotel to change clothes and then figure things out from there, is that okay?”

“That sounds perfect, except I’m paying the cab fare this time.”

***

In most situations, a group of guys you’d only known a couple of days asking you into their hotel room would be a major red flag, and it probably still should have been, but you threw caution to the wind and went to Tom’s suite anyways.

Harry answered the door and let you in, and inside you found Tom and Harrison on the floor of the living space drinking beers. They both raised their cans up to you as you came in.

All three of the boys were in simple sweats and t-shirts, similar to you in your leggings and sweatshirt. It wasn’t much later that Harry went to the lobby to retrieve the pizzas they’d ordered and you were all digging in, seated around the coffee table talking.

You all discussed random things, poking fun at each other like you were old friends. It was like they’d already accepted you as one of their own.

“How you think this weekend’s gonna go, y/n?” Tom asked between swigs of his ale.

“I’d say pretty good. I’m hella nervous though. SNL is like its own universe.”

“You can say that again. This is like nothing I’ve ever done before.”

“Oh, come on. You two are both going to do great Saturday. Don’t think too much about it and just have fun,” Harrison encouraged as you continued eating.

Throughout the evening, you couldn’t help but pick up on the way you and Tom kept making eye contact. It was brief, but it was different than how you and Harry or Harrison looked at each other. There was something else there.

Your stomach fluttered. Who else could say that they spent an evening drinking with their biggest celebrity crush? And then continually exchange flirty looks?

At one point Tom even tossed a wink at you after cracking a joke, causing your heartbeat to quicken momentarily. 

After getting lost in conversation with the boys, you realized the time and prepared to excuse yourself back to your own room. The coming morning was going to be an early one, after all. 

“Oh man, I better head out. We’ve got a long day ahead of us,” you commented, stretching as you stood up. The boys followed suit.

“Wow I didn’t even realize how long we’ve been sitting here,” Tom added.

“Yeah. Thanks again for letting me come over tonight. I haven’t gotten to do something like this in a while so it’s nice to just spend time with people who I don’t pay to hang around me all day, you know?”

“I understand and definitely can agree, since these divs are kind of paid to hang around me.”

You all laughed as Tom walked you to the door. 

“Well. See you bright and early...” you trailed.

“Yeah, see you then,” Tom answered, awkwardly sticking out his arms for a hug. You obliged, squeezing your arms around his neck as his held your waist.

And goodness did he give good hugs.

***

You were definitely tired walking into 8H Friday morning. The caffeinated drink in hand helped a little, but late night beers paired with waking up early didn’t quite go hand in hand.

It wasn’t really a hangover either, since you hadn’t been fully drunk, but it didn’t help the exhaustion from traveling, working the past two days, and a lack of sleep.

The first thing you had to do was rehearse your songs for Saturday as the set team worked on transporting and putting together large set pieces that had been made at the navy yard in Brooklyn.

Tom and the cast weren’t far away, figuring the live show with costuming and quick changes along with doing some pre-filmed sketches. The writers were continually making adjustments and figuring out how things would be done. 

They eventually called you over, too, to rehearse your sketches and film one of them. You had to get used to the costumes and cue cards and blocking of each. There had been some minor changes as well, so you had to be quick on your feet.

By lunchtime, all the cast took a well deserved break to sit and have a bite. The writers were having to shuffle around while they tried to eat as you and Tom sat down to talk some more.

“Hey, sorry to bug you, but do you guys mind if I take a picture or two for the SNL social media accounts?” a page asked while you were munching on sandwiches.

You and Tom looked at each other and shrugged.

“Fine with me,” you answered, Tom giving a similar reply. The two of you leaned in next to each other, holding up your sandwiches and laughing.

A few photos were snapped and you and Tom approved of them to be posted online. You thought nothing of it as you went to more rehearsals, working through the show’s order and trying to get down timing before Saturday’s dress rehearsal and show.

You couldn’t help but laugh watching the sketches, as this was your first time seeing the ones you weren’t a part of. Tom’s comedic timing and dry British humor paired well with the material he was given.

When the day came to an end, you were looking through instagram and gathering your things. You went to SNL’s page and put the post of you and Tom together onto your story, adding the text “Can’t wait for everyone to see my favorite sandwich partner host the show tomorrow!”

As before, you thought nothing of it and posted the story, heading out the door to ride back with Tom and the boys.

***

At the hotel, you and Tom had decided to not hang out for the evening since you’d be having a late, late night Saturday and wanted to get some sleep. You opened up social media as you laid in bed to wind down.

You decided to look at the picture of you and Tom from lunch again and read some comments, hoping there would be some funny ones and whatnot.

Instead, you found hundreds of comments saying “omg ship” and “my two faves together” and “this couple would be everything!!” 

You were honestly shocked to see people saying that about you, especially since you had never heard of your fans indicating that they wanted to see you two together.

Twitter was also buzzing over you and Tom’s picture, some fan pages just talking about either one of you, while others also talked about shipping you.

In your heart, you kind of enjoyed it, since you were hardcore crushing on Tom now, but you had no idea how he felt.

Did he like you back? Did he just think of you as just a friend or acquaintance? Was he secretly dating someone and you were just reading too much into it? 

It was much to think about, so instead you closed your phone and fell into a deep slumber.

***

You didn’t have to be in the studio as early as the past days since dress rehearsal wasn’t until 8pm and the show started at 11:30. You felt better rested than the day before, but butterflies were constantly erupting in your stomach.

You and Tom caught each other at the building’s entrance and went up the elevators together.

“Ready for tonight?” you asked, tapping a foot anxiously.

“Absolutely not. You?”

“Same here. Not only is it going to be watched by millions, but some of the most important people in my life are coming and I’m freaking out a little.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked softly. “And who would that be?”

“Well, my parents and some friends from home. I can sing in front of sold out stadiums but I still get nervous if I know they’re in a crowd. It’s stupid, I know.”

“No I totally get it. My parents and brothers will all be here, too, and my heart races when they watch my work. The best advice ever given to me, though was ‘turn nerves into excitement,’ and that’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”

You nodded and smiled up at him.

“That is pretty good. Thanks,” you replied as the elevator doors opened. 

The halls were bustling with what seemed like every employee as you headed to your green room. It wasn’t long before you were being thrown updated scripts and rehearsing again.

Finally as dusk turned to night, the dress rehearsal audience seats began filling up. You were bouncing nervously in the hall as you watched the cast begin the cold open on a monitor.

“Nervous?” a male voice asked quietly next to you. It was Tom, of course. You bobbed your head from side to side.

“Excited,” you replied cheekily. He smiled and was about to say something else when a crew member came by to lead him to his starting place for the monologue. He gave a quick wave before heading backstage, instead. 

The dress rehearsal went okay, certain jokes and lines being cut and rearranged by the end for time. Thankfully the audience received everything well, for the most part. 

Your own music and sketches felt like a rush, but you were proud. Tom’s advice had really gotten to you, because you were bubbling with excited anticipation for 11:30 broadcast to begin.

There was about an hour between dress and the actual taping, so you scarfed down a few bites of food and tried to shake out some jitters. You also sipped some caffeinated hot tea and did vocal runs to stay in tip top shape. 

Your friends and family stopped by the green room to say hi before they joined the audience, giving you hugs and encouragement for the evening ahead.

As the clock neared 11:30, you were walking down a hall already dressed for your first song when you almost bumped into Tom.

“Oh, hey! Great job at dress! You’re gonna do amazing,” you immediately said, making him beam.

“Thank you! And you too! Your voice is on fire tonight, as if it’s ever not.”

“You haven’t heard me try to sing sick, then. I sound like a diseased animal.” You shook your hands and head to dismiss yourself. “But, uh, earlier I was gonna tell you ‘break a leg’ and then I remembered you used to dance, sooo... merde.”

Tom raised his brows and chuckled. 

“You know that phrase too?” You nodded. “Well then merde to you, too. Oh, and I was wanting to ask if tonig-” 

Tom was cut off by someone once again needing to drag him away to prepare for the show, causing you both to toss waves at each other again. Maybe he’d finish his thought later.

This was it. The real deal. 

You took that as a cue to find your place by the monitors until after Tom’s monologue and the commercial break, when you’d start moving to stand with the band.

The cold open landed well, and you felt chills hearing two of the cast yell,

“And live from New York, IT’S SATURDAY NIGHT!”

The classic jazz music of SNL played over the intro and Tom made his way down the iconic steps to do his monologue. 

Your heart fluttered seeing him stand on that stage with a wide smile, waving at the crowd. He was dressed in a blue suit and his curls were styled just right. He looked incredible.

The monologue landed well and you felt an even bigger flutter as you heard Tom lead into commercial, saying the iconic line,

“We have a great show for you tonight! Y/n Y/l/n is here! So stick around we’ll be right back!”

With that the camera panned out and cut, and chaos began as the crew moved everyone to set the first live sketch. In the meantime, a prefilmed sketch played, the one you had participated in.

The audience cheered and laughed at your surprise appearance in the sketch, which made you feel really good. You had moved now to a place where you could see the stage in person.

The camera panned in as the audience applauded and the next sketch began. Even after having seen it multiple times that week, you couldn’t help but laugh as the ridiculous character Tom played so well. 

When they cut to another commercial break, it was your time to get ready to sing the first song. 

Your stomach fluttered like it always did before a show, but Tom shot you a thumbs up before the break ended and boosted your confidence. A camera was pointed in his face as he calmly said,

“Ladies and gentlemen, y/n y/l/n,” as he gestured towards you.

The lights came up and you began playing, and you became lost in the music like always. It came and ended quickly, and suddenly you were listening to the cheers of the audience. You waved and bowed in thanks as the cameras panned again.

Up came the weekend update, your favorite part of any Saturday Night Live. The jokes for the segment were typically written on Saturday, so many of them were new to you. 

Tom came and stood next to you during the update with a bowl-cut red wig dressed in khakis and a sweater vest over a button up. You looked him up and down amused.

“Your performance was amazing,” he whispered.

“Thanks. You’re doing great out there. They love you,” you whispered back.

“I sure hope so. Hey I’ve been trying to ask if-” he started, but then was cut off by someone grabbing him and leading him towards stage for the next sketch. Your stomach fluttered again.

What could he possibly want to ask me?

The live sketch transitioned into a prefilm and then you were up again, this song was more energetic and included some choreography, and you felt confident in the shimmering gold bodysuit and boots you were wearing. 

You happily danced and sung after Tom reintroduced you to the crowd and got a large round of applause. There was only one sketch left of the show and you were in it, so the team rushed you into a quickchange booth offstage to put on your costume and a quick wig.

The sketch began and you stood to the side nervously. When your cue came, you burst onto the stage clumsily, as directed by the script. Your character made some inappropriate comments to Tom’s which garnered you many laughs again.

It was satisfying.

Once the sketch ended, all that was left were the goodnights, so you were again rushed off to change into a cute jumpsuit and reaffix your hair. Tom came out in a blue suit with the jacket unbuttoned, a black tee underneath. 

You rushed to take your place next to him as other cast members filed in around you, Lorne standing in the middle of the room watching to make sure everyone came out. The audience applauded as the music played and camera panned.

After they gave the final countdown, Tom began giving thanks to many people, from cast and crew, to family, and to you.

“I want to give a huge thanks to tonight’s musical guest, y/n y/l/n,” he exclaimed, gesturing to you. The crowd cheered and you laughed and waved, giving him a joking elbow. 

“I love you all! Goodnight!” he finally exclaimed. 

With that, the music was brought up and everyone began hugging as the credits rolled. You immediately turned to Tom and he to you, both of you throwing arms wide. 

You wanted to hug him forever, but realized that it would look fishy and there were many people you still wanted to hug and thank.

Both of you pulled back, giving each other a quick “good job!” before turning to others.

***

You were finally offstage and had said quick goodbyes to your family, who wouldn’t be staying for the afterparty. As you headed towards the greenroom for the last time that night, you were stopped by Tom.

“Hey! Y/n,” he said, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Oh my gosh there you are!” you said, turning to give him another hug, this one more emotional and less performative.

“I’m serious y/n, you were incredible. I know I’ve said it a million times but you have a real gift. Not to mention your acting skills,” he said into the crook of your neck.

You pulled away to look at him, arms still loosely wrapped around him.

“Well thank you, but you were great too. Everyone loved you. I loved you out there.” You paused for a moment, arms sliding from his shoulders as you continued to walk down the hall. “You know I had a lot of fun this week. Doing this and just hanging out. I was really nervous to meet you.” 

“I did too, and yeah, we were all super nervous to meet you, too. Like I told you before, we listen to your music a lot. But, uh, that being said. All night I’ve been trying to ask if you’d like to go to the afterparty with me?”

“Oh yeah that’s perfect! Are the guys coming too?” you asked enthusiastically, not detecting the nervousness in his voice.

“No, no. I mean, yeah they’ll be there but...” he stopped and you followed suit. “I’d like you to go with me with me. And ideally leave with me... alone.” 

Your eyes widened and breath hitched. Now it clicked. He was asking you out.

“Oh! Well then... I’d like that very much.” You smiled.

“Yeah?” he asked, incredulous.

“Yeah,” you answered.

Let’s just say you were singing a different kind of tune that night once you left to your empty hotel room “with him.”

***

A/N: omg omg omg I started this story forever ago but finally got around to finishing it! No new marriage project chapter this week, I thought I’d just post this to hold y’all over ;) Thanks for reading!

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[kerie-prince]

We're Worlds Apart (6)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj!reader

series m.list | general m.list | previous chp

warnings: language, smoking (cigarettes), mentions of sexual activity (but no actual scenes), Blaise (you know what i mean <3)

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

a/n: would y'all be interested if i added a smut chapter? also fun fact! the little date bit where y/n thinks about her worst date is based on my real life experience. only we didn't go to mcdonald's, we went to in-n-out. and it was terrible

(gif cred)

Blaise Zabini.

This man was the walking definition of lust. Flirtatious, smooth, and most definitely a womanizer. He didn’t hide it in his actions and you didn’t care. He could break your heart and have you crying for weeks, but man, if he wasn’t gorgeous.

Blaise Zabini looked as if he was carefully molded by Aphrodite. A man almost too beautiful for the world, and you’re going on a date with him. He nearly knocked the air out of your lungs when he asked to take you out to the fanciest, most expensive restaurant in Buffalo. And who were you to say no?

The whole window incident was completely forgotten. He could see more if he’d like— “Hey Y/N?” Your employee brought you out of your thoughts. A soft blush was on your face as you tried to act like you weren’t thinking of your neighbors’ friend. “Uh, yeah, what’s up?”

“Did you want me to put the crystal beads in the front? They’ve been really popular today.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You had a few more hours of your day left before going back home. You had called over two of your best friends to catch up and help you pick out an outfit for your date that coming Saturday. It was currently Thursday, but in case nothing in your closet was good enough, you’d at least have some time to go shopping with them. Which was probably going to happen anyway.

It was a really good day; it got really busy with customers and the usual nuisance was gone today. But no matter how busy it was, you still felt like time was passing by slowly. In all honesty, what you really wanted was to be able to see Blaise today even if it was for just a minute, just to say hi.

Your last date was six months ago and, well. If it went well, you wouldn’t be attending the date you were going to later on the weekend. It was a horrifying date; he took you to a fucking McDonalds on the first (and last) date, only paid for his own meal, and made weird sexual innuendos nearly the whole time. And the worst bit was that even though it was a terrible date, you decided to give him another shot by texting him saying that you’d like to go to another date and he never texted you back.

Blaise was only going to be around for a month, you know this. And you kinda felt bad for taking some of his time away from his best friend whom he was visiting for, but he asked you out. So, if he’s alright with it you should be, too.

After the store closed, you stayed an extra hour just to make sure everything was cleaned up and ready for tomorrow. As much as you were in a rush, you hated clutter and didn’t want to have to wake up earlier to clean. Most likely, your friends were gonna want to drink a little. Traffic home wasn't great, but once you got home you got exactly what you asked for.

Outside, Blaise stood against a wall smoking a cigarette on Draco’s porch. God, even the way he stands is hot you thought. He saw you pull in your driveway and put out the last of the bud onto the ashtray. Blaise made his way to you and your heart was beating hard. “Good evening, gorgeous,” he said in that mesmerizing British accent. I’d kill to hear that voice in the morning.

“Hello,” you sighed in contentment. He was about to say something before your friends pulled up next to your car. Internally, you groaned. You just had to hope they wouldn't say anything to embarrass you. Without taking the chance, you started thinking of a reason to excuse him back to Draco’s house but it was too late as your friends were already rushing to your side. Act normal, act normal, act normal—

“Hey Y/N, who's this?” Miranda probed. Her voice was suggestive and you caught how she looked Blaise up and down. Bianca, the shyest of the three stood aside and waved at him.

“Blaise, these are my best friends Miranda and Bianca,” your hands gestured to the girls by your side. “Guys, this is Blaise.”

He took their hands and kissed the top of them. “Well, you ladies have a goodnight. I’ll see you later, Y/N.” He winked at you before he left.

Miranda let out a sigh before she spoke, “God, you’re so lucky.” She started heading into your house and pulled out a bottle of wine from her purse. Yeah. I am.

—

Draco has no idea what he walked into.

Santa Marie’s was absolute chaos. There was nearly a horde of injured wizards and witches that he and his team had to help. People filled the waiting room and beds were constantly being changed for the next patient.

The worst bit of it was that no one had any memory as to what happened. “This is a really strong memory charm. Not as bad as how Lockhart was left, though. Any idea who could’ve done this?” Draco worked as he healed one person after the next. He’s been running around with Ian at his side.

“Not really. This is the first time I’ve ever seen anything like this. Hell, this is probably the first time anything like this ever happened at Santa Marie’s,” Ian pondered. It was true. Something like this hasn’t been seen in this hospital. But Draco wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing about it. He became Head Healer at Santa Marie’s for a reason and he was going to prove he deserves this position.

When he found a few minutes to himself, he called his landline at home to let Blaise and Theo know that he might not come home for the night. Theo was the one to answer the call and offered to take Draco some clothes if need be, but Draco already had a bag in his office just in case something kept him there. Guess today’s that day.

“Are you by yourself?” Draco asked.

“Yeah, Blaise left about twenty minutes ago,” Theo confirmed.

“Where’d he run off to? Not like he has other friends around,” Draco chuckled. He used the time to eat a sandwich from the cafeteria vending machine. Wasn't as filling, but he figured it’ll do for now until he would be able to eat an actual meal.

“Don’t you remember? Blaise got his date with… what’s her name again? The muggle, witch one, fuck if I know,” Theo said. That’s today? Draco had forgotten all about it. Of course, if he had remembered, he’d probably be distracted from his work today. Wait, why?

Theo regained his attention by calling his name multiple times thinking Draco had just hung up. “I’ll call you later. Still got loads of work to be done.”

“Hey, do you think they’ll do it-” Draco cut the call off before he could listen to the end of that sentence. Last thing he wanted on his mind while he worked was Blaise doing… things with you. It wasn’t because he liked you. You’re his neighbor and things could get pretty weird. It took months just to get along and have one engaging conversation.

And honestly, Draco still didn't like how you were a Wiccan. He may not understand what exactly it means, but it didn't matter. What would even happen if for some reason, Blaise actually showed you what real magic looks like? That was what really concerned Draco. Showing a muggle magic. He didn't know what those laws were like under the Magical Congress, but under the Ministry it was only allowed to show muggles magic and the wizarding world if it had the promise of marriage or you were a mudbl— muggleborn.

And Draco knew Blaise. His longest committed relationship was probably three months, so marriage is a definite no. Draco didn't know why he was even worried about it, it's just one bloody date. He figured that America made him soft as he stood ther overthinking about literally nothing. He was so immersed in his thoughts that he almost didn't feel Ashley flick his forehead. “Ow! That hurt!”

“I’d be worried if it didn't. You were standing there like a damn zombie. You ready to get back out there?” Ashley sassed. Draco scarfed the last of his sandwich and followed Ashley back to the emergency room. Ugh, I want this day to end.

—

It was the best date you ever had. You weren't in love or anything, but you were definitely tired out. The dinner was amazing and the conversations were engaging and interesting. But it's the events after the dinner that you remember.

Unlike boyfriends and girlfriends before, Blaise took his time with you. Slow, sensual and just perfect. It was quite suspicious, actually. What man is this perfect? There's something up. Weird foot fetish, secret Star Wars nerd. Or worse. Star Trek you thought.

Two days after the date, your best friends drove straight to your house after a single text was sent. There was no way Miranda and Bianca were going to read about the details on a phone screen, no. They wanted to hear the explicit details with their own ears.

“He did what?” Miranda nearly choked on the wine. There was a certain confidence in your aura. You slept with a man hand crafted by the gods and it was the best time of your life.

Bianca sat bashfully listening to your story, but she leaned forward to hear you better. “Little trashy for a first date, but who the hell cares? Ten out of ten, would definitely do again.” You smirked at the end of your corny joke. Your friends looked at each other and rolled their eyes. “Alright, we get it. What now, though? He's only here for a month. What's gonna happen now?” Miranda questioned.

“Dunno. But for now, I'm just having fun. At first, I thought it'd be weird since his friend isn't the most pleasant to live next to, but Blaise is different.” You could only assume they were different, but considering you were getting along way better you figured it was safe to assume they were.

“What does your neighbor even look like? I haven't seen him anywhere,” Bianca noticed. Now that you realize, you haven't seen your brooding neighbor in a couple days. Not that you cared. “Actually, I don't know. Work, probably,” you shrugged your shoulders as you brought your wine glass to your lips.

“Where does he work?” Miranda asked.

“In the emergency room at a hospital,” you answered.

“Oh. You know where?” Miranda kept at it. “No, we don't really talk much. Took me nearly six months to even find out that he even talks, let alone what he does for a living.” Just as you were about to take another sip, a certain black car was pulling up.

From afar, you could see the dark circles extremely prominent under Draco’s eyes and noticed him wearing the same clothes he left the house in a couple days ago. You actually pitied him, but admired him at the same time.

Being a doctor is no easy task, and here was one across the yard working day and night to help people. “Is that him?” Bianca noticed him from out the window. You nodded in response and took another sip of wine.

“I'm moving to England. There's no way that they have this many attractive men. Watch me pledge allegiance to the Queen, I don't care,” Miranda rambled. You laughed at her in response. “You said there's another person visiting him?”

“Yeah, why?” you quirked an eyebrow. “What does he look like?” Miranda looked at you with wide, hopeful eyes. You shrugged your shoulders, “Haven't seen him yet. Never comes out but I think I heard him once in the backyard.”

After a couple hours of talking and laughing, the two best friends decidedly went home and called you once they arrived safely. The night was chilly and the sky was clear. You admired the sunset and the orange and purple hues in the sky from the bench of your porch. If you could, you'd paint the scenery.

The sound of a door opening made you look to the side and saw Draco pulling out a cigarette. He looked around and once his eyes landed on yours, he reached in his pocket for the lighter. Once it was lighted, he took a deep inhale and let the smoke out with a long puff.

“Long couple days?” you asked from across. He took another puff before he started walking to the fence separating your yards. You did the same and leaned against it next to him. “Feel like shit,” he said under his breath.

“You look like shit,” you commented. Draco glared at you and you laughed at him. It took him a couple seconds to drop his glare and then he started laughing as well. When you looked at him, you noticed how his eyes crinkled and how bright his smile was. It was the first time you'd ever seen him like this and it made you feel a bit warmer inside. You remembered how when he'd first moved in, all you wanted was to be friends with your new neighbor and have moments like this.

The silence lasted a while when your laughters died down. He finished the last of the cigarette and stepped on it as you just stood and wandered into nothing. Whether it was an awkward silence or not, you didn't know. But considering you were comfortable, maybe it wasn't.

You looked at your neighbor and reached one of your hands out to him. Draco looked confused, like he once did when you first went to his door and reached for a handshake. He stood still as he expected you to say something. The expression spoke for him so you finally explained yourself, “Friends?”

Draco seemingly thought about it, eyes going back and forth from your hand to your eyes. He then looked at his house for some reason and met your eyes again. Hesitantly, he shook your hand, “Friends.”

This was going to be an odd friendship for sure, but after months of trying, a friendship began.

—

next chp

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[teamhappyme]

to care for you

rafael barba x female!reader

referenced cases from S17E04 and S17E16

word count: 4k

a/n: this is my first fic that I’m letting the world see and I’m... terrified. i hope whoever reads this gets some joy out of it. shoutout to @qvid-pro-qvo and @hurricanejjareau , y’all got me roped into loving the SVU boys, and this would not have been created if I hadn’t found your blogs. big inspiration over here. alright, here we go friends.

****

“Well you’re going, right?” 

“I haven’t decided.” “Haven’t decided? It’s Liv and Noah, Barba. A christening for the cutest little boy and the most deserving mother. They’ve been through hell this year, they deserve our support. Besides, you’re a devout Catholic, you should be all in for this.”

“First of all, he’s getting christened in a Unitarian church. Second, I wouldn’t exactly use the term devout. The last time I went to church was with you and Carisi after that trafficking case last year.” He said while grabbing another slice of pizza. In your three years since joining the SVU this was the first time you saw Rafael Barba eat a slice of pizza. 

“Careful. You might get some grease on that thousand dollar suit, Counselor.” He glared at you before taking a bite. “If you’re worried about the priest smelling your absence out, Carisi and I have enough devotion to pass on to you.”

“I don’t want any of Carisi’s Catholic guilt.” “You need me to take your confession?” You asked with a smirk. 

There weren’t many people that could get away with pushing Barba’s buttons without getting chewed out by the ADA in his next breath. And when you first started out with the squad, there were many occasions where you and Barba had some heated arguments.

Getting transferred to SVU was an overwhelming experience. You were thrown into the understaffed department right along with Carisi, so the two of you had to step up pretty quick for the unit. There was no adjustment period, trust wasn’t built, it was forced upon the squad. It took about two months for you to really trust the other detectives, but once you did, the unit got into a groove. Cases were being solved left and right and you started to understand the routine of the SVU. 

Until you had to testify. It was six months in, and it was your first testimony with the unit. It was also the first rape case you worked with minor victims. There were four fifteen year old girls accusing their history teacher of rape, two of which disclosed to you. 

You prepped with Barba for an hour the night before, making sure you knew the case inside and out. You felt confident in your answers, and were ready to take the stand. Until the following morning. On your walk down to the courtroom with him, you rushed into the ladies room to vomit up your coffee and your anxiety. Public speaking was never one of your strong suits, and Barba had cautioned you to be prepared for Buchanon’s toxic cross examination.

As you washed your hands and cleared your face, Rafael stayed outside the door, even deterring a woman from coming in. Once you exited, he was waiting at the side, pulling a granola bar and stick of gum out of his blazer pocket. You took the food, as he gave you a nod and waited for your okay to continue the walk down to the courtroom. A slight nod of your own and weak smile got his feet moving again. 

That trial was the first olive branch extended between you and Rafael. He wasn’t one to offer warm greetings, and since you were often glued to Carisi’s hip, it was hard for him to separate you from the enthusiastic detective. There were passive aggressive comments relayed back and forth while trying to indict a perp, and long nights spent deliberating probable cause at the round table. But it wasn’t until you accompanied Liv to One Hogan Place, in a particularly bad mood when you sassed the ADA back after he made a comment about your witnesses being incredibly unreliable, not having time for the shenanigans. 

After that moment, Rafael knew that he could trust you. The passive aggressive comments yielded, but the sass continued. The repertoire the two of you were slowly building drew quite the audience, Carisi and Rollins almost always feeding the fire with more topics to discuss. 

About a year into your tenure here, you started to check in on Barba. The first time you stopped by was originally a business call. Liv needed a warrant asap, already staking out the apartment of a suspect. You rushed over to the courthouse, trying to find any ADA’s secretary when you saw Barba still in his office at midnight. According to Carmen, he rarely went home before 9:00. After that night, you made it a habit to check in on him at least once a week. The DA’s office was a cutthroat environment, and Barba’s office was an even lonelier place. 

Thursday nights were penciled in for your unofficial drop ins, almost through the week but still burning the midnight oil. You would show up around 10:00 with pizza for you, and sushi for his expensive taste every time, knowing neither one of you had time to eat dinner yet. Most of the time, the two of you would work on your respective cases, sometimes sharing notes if the work overlapped. But if it was a slow week, sometimes the two of you would just, talk. It was nice to be able to talk to someone who understood the demanding nature of the job. Your family in particular couldn’t understand why you loved this career so much, but your squad could. It was reassuring to have their support.

“Alright, enough with the holier than thou attitude, Detective. I actually wanted to talk to you about the case.” Sitting up a little straighter in your chair, you wiped your hands on a napkin as he pulled out a manila folder. “I’ve been encouraged by the D.A. to drop the charges against Bobby D’Amico and Noel Panko.”

“What?” “And I have a motions hearing scheduled for Friday morning to dismiss the charges.”

After everything the squad had done for this case, what you saw Amanda put herself through. It was all for nothing.

“Barba, you can’t be serious. We have three victims, two willing to testify. We have footage of them attempting to rape Rollins for crying out loud.”

“Kristi Cryer has changed her story too many times. She was raped, then it was consensual, it was Panko, it was Panko and D’Amico. A jury will never believe her story.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “The jury won’t believe her or you won’t?”

“Hey, you know this isn’t about what I think. This isn’t a case we can win. We have to look at the optics.”

“The optics,” you muttered as you stood up from your seat. “Multiple women were raped by two well-known men in New York society, and the D.A. doesn’t want to make any enemies, right?” 

“You’re taking this worse than Liv did.” You scoffed. “Am I? Good. Because for the rest of their lives, those girls will have to live with the fact that their rapists are still out there. Not to mention their reputations will be ruined. People are going to call them liars, and whores. Their lives are never going to be the same. All because you won’t stand up to the D.A. and do what’s right?” 

Rafael stood up now, his loosened tie swinging from the sudden movement. “If this goes to trial, it will not go our way.”

“What about when you went after DCFS? You went after Musio, Grayson, Sheridan,”

“That was different,” “Why because it was Liv?”

“Because the department was a mess, and there were months worth of evidence of neglect and backdating reports. You were there, and if I remember correctly you were fighting alongside Liv to get me to prosecute.”

You ran your fingers through your hair, not willing to accept that this case was over. “These girls deserve justice, Barba. You were there when Panko went off at Dodds, he knows he’s done.”

“I want these guys just as bad as you do, Y/n. But we do not have the evidence. It’s a he said she said case, with one other accusation from a year ago without a rape kit. Not to mention Rollins went undercover without notifying a superior, tainting the whole investigation. We will make a fool out of ourselves and lose this case in court.”

“And it’s all about winning for the D.A.’s office, isn’t it. Can’t do anything out of the kindness of your hearts, can you?” You knew you crossed the line as you saw Rafael’s shoulder’s drop the slightest bit, his jaw clenched in place. 

“Maybe if you passed the Bar instead of failing three times you could understand why we can’t pursue this. We can’t bring a case to trial based on our emotions. This isn’t your tissue loaded desks, this is a courthouse.” 

You broke the tense eye contact you were holding after his statement. Insulting your academic failures and empathetic tendencies in one foul swoop. That was a low blow, even for the counselor.

Rafael knew his words pierced you. He pushed his chair back and let out a breath, getting ready to back track. But you beat him to the punch. 

“You know, my capability of empathizing with victims is the reason why you’ve put so many rapists away. If they had to speak to you, there would be no cases for you to even prosecute.”

This wasn’t a normal spout between the two of you. Things rarely got personal, and if they did, they were never this spiteful. 

“Then I guess there’s a reason I’m prosecuting in front of the judge and jury and you’re dealing with the victims.”

You scoffed at his final statement. You knew he was cocky, but you didn’t think he would use your insecurities or shortcomings against you. Especially not the fact that you failed the Bar Exam three times, which was only disclosed to him once Carisi opened his big mouth.

Covering your head with your beanie, you made your way to the door before either one of you could do more damage. You fought the urge to apologize, knowing you would need space before you could think of a response.

“Have a good night, Counselor.”

****

“Oh my goodness, Benjamin! Look at that tower you made with Maura! Did you show Luke?” “No. Mama saw it!” You smiled at the two year old through the phone, his own grin lighting up the room even over facetime. “Benjamin, is mama there? Y/n/n wants to talk to her for a minute.”

“I can bring you to her!” Maura took the phone out of the toddler’s hands, but you quickly protested so you could say goodbye to your godson. “Bye Benny, I love you buddy.” He blew you a kiss and you caught it as your little cousin brought you across the room. 

“Auntie Leah! Y/n/n wants to talk to you.” She handed the phone over while settling in next to her aunt. You saw your older cousin’s calming face, and couldn’t help the tears in your eyes.

“I haven’t even said anything and you're already crying,” You let out a laugh and took a sip of water. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.” 

“Y/n, are you at the precinct? It’s 8:00 your time on thanksgiving, what are you doing there?”

“There was some work I needed to get done. If I can’t be with you guys, I can at least get a head start so I can come home for Christmas.” The squadroom was empty now, but it had only been filled by the desk sergeant and a couple uni’s until five. You’d been here since noon, not succeeding in spending the holiday alone in your apartment. “Besides, I’ve been able to ignore all of my mother’s phone calls with the ‘I’m working’ excuse. Has she called you guys yet?”

“Just mom once. You know she doesn’t mean it to hurt you, she just wishes you could spend time with family for the holidays.” “I know.”

Your family meant the world to you, and having missed the last two years of holidays was hard on you. Sure, you saw them eventually, but Christmas and Thanksgiving weren’t the same alone.

“Since I’ve already started Christmas shopping, is there anything Benjamin needs or wants from his godmother?” “He has requested, and I quote, ‘y/n/n’s nummy cookies’.” The smile that spread across your face was so big it almost hurt. That baby boy was probably your favorite person on the planet, besides your own nieces and nephews. “Alright well hopefully he can help Y/n/n make those nummy cookies in a few weeks. If not, I’ll send a box out, along with an amazing present.”

“What about me?” Maura asked, and you just shook your head. “Hey, I’m not made out of money here girlfriend.” She laughed at that.

“Have you at least eaten anything today?” Leah asked, trying to steer the conversation into a more meaningful direction. She could read you so easily. “Yes, I have. I’m not going to be here much longer, so I’ll grab something for dinner on my way home.”

“Y/n/n,” The eight year old interrupted again, and you couldn’t help the smile that etched across your face as you rolled your eyes at the silly nickname. 

“Yes, Maura.” 

“There’s a fancy man walking towards you.” 

You turned your head and saw Barba walking through the squadroom. “I gotta go, Leah.” 

“Is everything okay?”

He pulled over Carisi’s chair, raising a brow to make sure it was okay. You nodded.

“It’s okay. Just a colleague. I’ll talk to you later.” “Okay. We love you and miss you.” Tears pooled in your eyes again as Maura hopped on. “Love you Y/n/n!” A tear fell from your eye as you let out a laugh. “Love you too guys. Bye.”

You ended the call, quickly wiping your eyes now that you had an audience. It was only last night that you had your rather animated argument, and neither of you had reached out. Being stubborn was one of many traits the two of you shared.

“Can I help you, counselor?” 

He held up a brown bag with a receipt stapled to the fold. “It’s thursday night. It’s usually you making trips to the office, but I figured I could take the field trip tonight.” 

He opened up the bag, pulling out cartons of Chinese food. Your hand immediately reached for the fortune cookies, ripping the plastic wrapper off. 

There was a lingering tension in the air, unresolved conflict, and hurt feelings, but it still felt okay. Mainly because the two of you knew you were both to blame. 

“How did you know I was here?” You asked while grabbing the carton of lo mein. “I called Carisi. He said you were supposed to be in Minneapolis for the holiday, but got wrapped up in the case. Said he offered his family to you, but after hearing the commotion over the phone, I understand why you declined.”

“I didn’t decline because of their raucous personalities. I just wanted to get some work done.” 

He digressed, retreating into his carton of fried rice. “What about you? Why aren’t you eating pie and decorating for Christmas with your lovely mother?”

“She volunteered this year. Since Abuelita died, she hasn’t been a big fan of holidays.” You nodded, knowing how hard it was for Rafael to grieve his abuelita last year. 

“How has she been doing?”

He shrugged. “She has good days and bad days. She blames herself most of the time, but she has her school, and her kids to keep her upright.” “And you.” His eyes met yours for a brief second, the corners of his mouth turning up the slightest. He always wanted to do more for his family. 

“Was that who you were on the phone with? Your family from Minneapolis?” 

“Yeah. I was supposed to go out there for thanksgiving, but when we caught Kristi’s case, I cancelled. I thought,” You stopped, knowing any mention of the case would bring up last night’s conversation.  

“We were going to trial.” He finished the sentence and you nodded.

If everything had gone according to plan, Panko and D’Amico would’ve been indicted this week and the trial would’ve begun the following week. You’d already started prepping Kristi with Rollins, making sure she knew her story backwards and forwards. But it was all for nothing it seems.

“Y/n, what I said last night,” You shook your head. “We both said things we didn’t mean. I started it, and was completely out of line.” 

“You weren’t. You were fighting for Kristi, and your case. I just, I didn’t want to hear it.” He ran a hand through his hair, not perfectly quaffed like usual. “I shouldn’t have brought up the Bar. It was low, extremely low, and you didn’t deserve it. You and Carisi could take me out in court in a day. And if you ever tell him that, I’ll deny it until I die.” You laughed while taking an egg roll, crossing your finger over your heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

You let the apology sink in for a minute before starting your own. “I know you would’ve brought this to trial if we had enough evidence. I know that you care about the victims just as much as we do. I’m sorry that I said you didn’t.”

Poking around the container, he let out a scoff. “You weren’t that far off. I’m the D.A.’s puppet, letting him decide which cases I prosecute or not. We don’t have a lot of room for an emotional influence. I know how cold I can be with vics and witnesses.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t care.” 

“Tell that to Kristi Cryer. She posted a vlog today, ripped me a new one for not believing her. Called the D.A.’s office, and I quote, ‘a bunch of spineless jellyfish.’ She’s not wrong. I mean,” He let out a humorless laugh. “I went to law school so I could help people. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself the last twenty years. But in reality, I’ve been climbing the bureaucratic totem pole, pushing myself further and further away from that kid in the Bronx.”

“You don’t seriously believe what Cryer said do you?” He shrugged, not meeting my eyes. You sighed, placing the carton on your desk, leaning over to rest your hand on his arm. “You are the Assistant District Attorney for the Sex Crimes division. People do not last here if they don’t care about the victims. I’ve seen you in court, in testimony prep, hell even in interrogation. You care about every single person that needs our help. Does it suck that the law is not the most accommodating to rapists and pedophiles? Yeah, it’s really shitty. But you didn’t write the law books, as much as you like to believe you did.” A smile crept onto his face. “You care about your mom, your abuelita, everyone that helped you in the Bronx. I know you care about us, even Carisi, although you’d never admit it. You are not a spineless jellyfish, no matter how fun it is to say.”

“You really believe that?” He still couldn’t meet your eyes. It always amazed you how easily the most put together people could fall victim to their insecurities. 

“Rafael, I would not be spending every Thursday night for the past two years with you if I didn’t believe that you were one of the most kind-hearted people I’ve ever met. I care about you.”

His green eyes finally met yours as he moved to gently hold your hand that was previously resting on his forearm. He gave it a soft squeeze as you smiled, trying to ignore the butterflies that started blooming in your stomach. The same butterflies that rested there every time your hands brushed when you were walking down the hallway, or when his hand rested at the small of your back to escort you into the courtroom. And after tonight, and the way he was looking back at you, you knew he felt them too.

You spent the next ten minutes finishing off the takeout, sitting in a comfortable silence, not needing to fill the moment with anything else. The two of you kept sneaking glances at one another, breaking out into a sheepish grin if you were caught. 

Once you were done eating, Rafael cleaned up the food as you got all your belongings together for the long weekend. It wasn’t until that moment you realized he wasn’t wearing an expensive suit; he had on a navy blue quarter zip, black jeans, and some loafers. A smile crept up on your face knowing that you got to see him in casual clothes.

“Ready?” He asked as you slipped on your gloves and pushed your chair in behind you. “Ready.” 

You lived close enough to the precinct that it was only a ten minute walk. Rafael lived in the other direction, but still insisted on walking you back to your apartment. An Uber could pick him up from there, he said, because that man would not be caught dead walking across the city in his loafers.

He called for a ride as you approached your block, not wanting him to wait in the cold too long. As you approached the brick walk up, you started to fidget with the keys resting in your pocket. 

“Thank you for dinner. And a double thank you for not making me eat your sushi.” He smiled. “You’re welcome. Thank you for being such good company.”

“Anytime.” A sharp gust of wind hit you, causing you to duck your head into your coat for a few seconds. When you looked back up, Rafael’s cheeks were rosy red and wind burnt, and absolutely adorable. “I’ll see you next week for a warrant, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure. Make sure to get me a coffee on the way, listening to you list the legal reasons why you need the warrant always makes me sleepy.” 

You smiled.“Deal. Goodnight, Raf.”

“‘Night, Y/n.” 

Despite the farewell statements, neither one of you moved. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from his warm eyes, and it wasn’t until you felt his fingers brush against yours that you moved closer. 

His eyes flickered to your lips for a second, before looking back at you. You took another step towards him, waiting for him to close the gap between you. When he did, all you could feel was the warmth of his lips on yours, and the cold tip of his nose resting against your cheek. 

It was short, the two of you pulling away after a few seconds. But one smile from you had him leaning back in, resting a hand on your cheek as he kissed you again. It was slow and careful, but full of adoration. You couldn’t help but smile into him, bringing your hand up to rest against his own. After a few more seconds, his own smile made it impossible to stay connected. 

This time when you pulled away, you rubbed your thumb across his red, wind burnt cheek, not even trying to suppress the stupid smile on your face. And you were happy to see him grinning the same way.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” He said, shifting his head just enough to press a kiss to the palm of your hand. Neither one of you is willing to ruin this moment with any talks about what this means. “Okay. Get home safe.” “I will.”

One more look at his rosy red cheeks, and you let out a laugh before you let yourself pull away.

“What?” He asked, completely dumbfounded by his affect on you. You shook your head in response. “Nothing.”

He returned your laughter before lightly kissing your lips one last time. You could get used to this. 

“Goodnight, counselor.” You said once you pulled away, lightly shoving him toward the ride that just pulled up. 

“Goodnight, detective.”

****

[gallavictorious]

Outsider POV Gallavich Fic: Captive Look

For a while there this spring, I was mildly obsessed with the CO in 10x03: you know, the good-looking guy who seems so completely unfazed by finding two armed inmates stabbing an old man, and then for whatever reason doesn't report it? (He can't have; Ian's parole wouldn't have happened so soon after something like that.) I also really dig his beard... Anyway, IMDB identifies him as Raymond and I've had this short little piece about him and his interactions with two certain dumbasses sitting almost finished in my draft doc for months and months and months, so... you're welcome? 2882 words, to help pass the time until the new episode!

You can read it below or on AO3.

---

It's half past eight on a Thursday when Raymond catches sight of them across the bar at South Side Social. He’s there to celebrate his baby sister’s birthday, familial obligation overriding personal preference, but after an hour of politely chatting with her increasingly wasted college friends over obnoxiously rustic-only-because-it’s-trendy food, he’s ready for a break. Catching Tina’s eye, he mimes lightening a cigarette; she raises an eyebrow at him and smirks. She’s a clever kid, his sister – the first in their family to go to college – and she knows him only too well. Knows, for instance, that he gave up smoking years and years ago.

Offering her a rueful grin, he gets up and gets out and spends the next few minutes breathing in Chicago’s poisonous evening air. It’s December, but unusually warm for the season, and somewhere underneath the dusty stink of exhaust fumes and concrete there’s a faint trace of melting snow.

On the way back to the table Raymond stops at the bar to order another beer, and that’s when he spots them, just three feet away. Two men in their mid-twenties, casually dressed and apparently in the middle of a not-very-serious argument, complete with waving hands and mock-scoffs. It takes a moment for the vague feeling of familiarity to click into actual recognition, and when it's does it's not so much their faces as the way they pause to look at each other.

It's not the sort of look you see a lot, especially not in prison.

So, well, he’ll be damned. It’s Milkovich and Gallagher. Cellmates, lovers, and occasionally a goddamn pain in his ass. Released, as improbable as it sounded, within days of each other less than half a year ago, and now laughing over drinks in a half-way decent restaurant in downtown Chicago. It’s not the sort of place he’d expected to find them in – but then again, there’d been a lot of unexpected things about that pair.

Not them hooking up, necessarily, not once they’d ended up sharing a cell; trading sexual favors for protection (whether voluntarily or not) was common enough. Frowned upon in theory, of course, but in practice –

Well. You didn’t have to like it, but it was what it was. Idealism didn’t survive long at Beckham. Raymond himself had never harbored any grand notions about the redemptive potential of his work, but he’d seen his fair share of fresh-faced new CO:s have their illusions crushed after a week or two caught between the often violent offenders who despised them, the indifferent malice of many seasoned CO:s, and the stifling drudgery of the American penal system in general. Not Raymond, though: he did his job, did it well, and went home and didn't spend waste moment of thought on it. You did what you needed to do to pay the bills; no need to dwell on it.

So no, Gallager getting in bed, quite literally, with Milkovich hadn’t been a surprise. The nature of their relationship, though...

Sure, it wasn’t unheard of for inmates to fall for one another, or for established couples to end up in prison together. Didn’t happen a lot, and actual homosexuality was still more likely to get you beat up than laid, but yeah, it did happen. What, in Raymond’s experience, never happened was having to people look at each other the way Milkovich and Gallagher sometimes did, whenever they thought no one else was watching: there was a kind of wonder to it, both staring at the other like they’ve been handed a goddamn gift and couldn’t quite believe their luck.

Particularly on Milkovich’s face the look was baffling.

Ever since the young man arrived at Beckamn he'd moved down the gray corridors and among the yellow-clad crowds like a man born to it. Raymond supposed he was; his father Terry had spent much of his adult life in the very same prison, as had a great many brothers, cousins and assorted associates. Though Raymond didn't know any details, and didn't really care to know them, he'd bet dollars to donuts that Mickey Milkovich's criminal career had had both an early start and a sense of inevitability to it. Various stints in juvie, followed by a real prison sentence for... attempted murder, wasn't it?... followed by a widely publicized jailbreak and an eventual and far less publicized return to Beckman.

Milkovich was tough enough to make others back down when he had to but smart enough not to start any unnecessary fights, not with the other inmates and not with the ones set to watch over them. Knew how to work the system, too: how to get things in, get things done, which guards could be bribed. Raymond didn't play that game himself, but he wasn't getting paid enough not to turn a blind eye when others do. And Milkovich had been pretty smooth about it, especially since his return; careful not to cause a stir.

Gallagher, on the other hand... He'd been the kind of inmate Raymond would've been seriously worried for, had he been inclined to worry and had Milkovich not been there to watch his back and show him the ropes. Not because Gallagher struck Raymond as even remotely helpless, but he so very obviously did not belong in prison, and so very obviously did not really have a clue about what was what in here. The nastier inmates would have eaten him alive long before he'd had the chance to navigate the intricacies of prison politics and find the friends needed for protection. He'd have ended up someone's bitch, or ended up in the infirmary, or dead.

But he'd ended up with Milkovich, and as unlikely as it had seemed at the time, that had worked out. (There were moments when Raymond wondered about that, wondered about them: apart from the looks, there were little touches, too, casual things that spoke of a familiarity far beyond what they could possibly have developed in their short time in a shared cell.)

That wasn't to say that their relationship had been all rainbows and lollipops, and it sure as hell hadn't been fun for everybody. They’d driven half the cellblock insane sometimes, as well as occasionally one another. Other prisoners had complained about their bickering and their fucking (though never officially complained, because you didn't, not unless you wanted to go looking for your teeth in the shower drain), and Raymond recalled vividly the time when not one but both of them had gotten roped into Chester Russom’s endless quest to spend the rest of his life behind bars –

He'd been passing by the infirmary when he'd heard the screaming and come running. Hadn't been surprised, exactly, to find what he found, but that didn't lessen the urge to smack both Milkovich and Gallagher on the head for being so damned stupid.

Neither of them had seemed particularly concerned about getting caught stabbing another inmate. In fact, they'd fallen over themselves to take the blame, which Raymond might have taken as an unselfish attempt to save the other – if he'd been a complete idiot and if the two of them hadn't been sniping at each other all the way from the infirmary, to the point where he felt like his head would explode.

“Imma murder you two if you don't stop talking,” he said, glaring at them as they sat chained outside the small office. Thankfully, they did stop, looking neither at him nor at each other.

Raymond waited for a moment, deliberating.

“What did Chester promise you?” he eventually asked. Gallagher might have agreed to help the old man out of the goodness of his heart, but Milkovich sure as hell hadn't.

Neither man answered. They were studiously avoiding looking at each other.

“You're not going anywhere until you tell me,” Raymond warned them. “If I have to leave your sorry asses chained to this bench all night that's no skin off my back.”

“We needed a break,” Gallagher offered eventually, reluctantly. Milkovich gave a little snort at that, but – wisely – kept his mouth shut. “So we thought that if one of us got sent to solitary... “ He trailed off, shrugging half-heartedly.

Oh, for the love of God - ! “Why did both of you have to stab him if the goal was to get one of you to solitary?”

Again, there was a protracted silence, and somewhere in it – in their earlier insistence that each of them had been the first to stick the shiv into Chester – Raymond could just about make out the shape of it.

“You are both idiots,” he said, moving to uncuff them from the bench, making a decision. “Come on, let's go.”

“Wait,” Gallagher said, not rising. “You're not reporting us? What about solitary?””

“You don't get a damn reward for stabbing someone, so no, you're not going into solitary, you're going straight back to your cell – where you will hand over all contraband you've hidden there.”

“Now, wait a minute – “ Milkovich began, but he faltered when Raymond fixed him with a hard stare.

Raymond had no illusions about intimidating this particular inmate, but Milkovich really did know how this worked; knew better than to ever be friendly with a guard, not even the ones he bribed – but knew when not to push too.

He had kept their hands cuffed for the walk back to the cell, which was policy, but was him making a point too. While there were extenuating circumstances – primarily the fact that Chester had asked them to stab him – by all rights they should be going down for this, and Raymond wasn’t one hundred percent sure why he wasn't letting them. Save himself the paperwork? Yeah, sure. Why not? As good a reason as any.

“Now, am I going to have to search the cell or will you give it up voluntarily?” he asked once they'd made it to the cell. “You make me look, I won't be too careful with your shit.”

A lot of the guards would be deliberately careless when they tossd a cell, either to prove a point or just for the hell of it. Raymond usually didn't bother with that sort of power trip bullshit, but he was prepared to make an exception if these morons proved stupid enough to give him any more trouble. He was already cutting them considerable slack here, and neither of them have the brains to appreciate it.

They had shared a look, and then Milkovich gave an imperceptible nod. Without a word they set to bring forth an array of cigarettes and foodstuff, little things that would have been commonplace and unremarkable in the real world but was made precious by its scarcity on the inside.

Raymond wasn't naive enough to believe they actually gave him everything they'd got in there, but enough of it to inconvenience them, which would have to do. He grabbed the the items, then fixed them both with a firm look.

“Either of you cause me any more trouble, I'm taking your books,” – he pointed to Gallager, then to Milkovich – “and your pens and paper. You think you have it bad now? Imagine sharing a cell and having nothing else to occupy you.”

He had hoped to God he wouldn't have to make good on his threat, though. The other prisoners would probably riot if they have to put up with more of ´bickering from these two.

“I catch either of you with a shiv again, you'll be fucking sorry,” he continued. “Talk it out, or agree not to talk, or whatever. Split the cell into his and his, I don't give a damn. But sort your shit out.”

Maybe they had, maybe they hadn't; the point became moot just a few weeks later, when Gallagher was released. Milkovich had soon followed him – and how exactly that had happened, Raymond still didn't know, because there was no way in hell anyone actually thought releasing that one back into society was a great move – and that had been that. For now, at least; he fully expected to see Milkovich again. Guy like that wasn't going to quit, and sooner or later he'd get caught and find himself back behind bars. Rinse repeat, until he got himself killed or locked away for good.

Only now here Milkovich is, but in front of a bar rather than behind them, and with Gallagher right by his side, laughing like they'd never stabbed a man just to get away from each other.

Raymond hesitates. There's some small part of him that actually wants to step up and say hello, and that throws him a little. He's got a rule about never getting emotionally invested in the fates of the inmates; that way lies nothing but heartbreak, because most of those who find themselves at Beckman will find themselves there again and again, for longer and longer. Don't abuse the prisoners, but don't care too much either: it's been Raymond's private policy for the past five years, and it's worked out so far.

Except now he's actually considering chatting with a couple of convicts, just 'cause he really is a little bit curious about how this unlikely pair is doing.

But nah. Forget it. His rule aside, it'd be pretty uncool to intrude on their evening out. They're free men now – kind of – and having a CO check up on them can't be high on their list of wants. But before he can move away, they both look his way; sees him. Recognizes him, too, from the way they freeze.

Okay. Call it fate, then. “Hello,” Raymond says, going for neutral good and a little nod; I come in peace.

A beat. Milkovich is eyeing him with a wariness he doesn't bother to conceal and it's Gallagher who speaks first:

“Officer Reese,” he says, managing a polite smile. “Hi.”

Raymond notices the way they glance down at the beers they technically shouldn't be having.

“I'm not your PO,” he assures them. “I don't give a damn if you drink. Might want to take it easy, though,” he can’t help but add. “Getting shitfaced is a quick way to get into trouble.”

Milkovich opens his mouth, but after a quick glare from Gallagher he closes it again. Probably for the best; Raymond can’t imagine him playing even remotely nice now that he doesn’t have to.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt your evening,” he says. “Looks like you’re doing all right.”

“Yeah, yeah, we've got jobs and... “ Gallagher pauses to glance at Milkovich again, as if asking his permission. Milkovich rolls his eyes but says nothing, and Gallagher turns his gaze back to Raymond. There's a real smile on his face now, small, but filled with something akin to disbelieving delight: “We got married. Couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh, wow. Congratulations.” Raymond isn’t quite sure what surprises him more: the fact of their marriage, or the fact that he is genuinely happy for them. Maybe he’s getting soft in his old age… Or maybe it’s just that there’s so very few happy endings for those who find themselves at Beckman, whether as inmates or as guards, that they need to be treasured whenever you find them.

“Ian!” someone calls across the room, and Gallagher turns his head to look at a blonde woman gesturing wildly. “Where are those drinks?”

“Shit,” Gallagher mutters. “Better get this to Tami before she has a fit.”

Another smile, and Gallagher is gone. Milkovich, however, lingers, seemingly debating whether to say something more. Curious against his will, Raymond does his best to look approachable. Evidently, it works, because Milkovich clears his throat:

“You’d reported us when we stabbed that old fucker in the infirmary, Ian wouldn’t have gotten his release.” He pauses, looking uncomfortable, then forces out: “Appreciate it.”

Raymond merely nods. Maybe he should say something about being glad taking a chance on them had paid off, that he is glad to see them doing well – but he’s pretty sure Milkovich wouldn’t much appreciate the sentiment.

“Your boy doesn’t belong in prison,” he says instead.

Milkovich face immediately collapses into a scowl. “Well, I didn't fucking put him there,” he growls.

But Raymond isn’t intimated; just hold his gaze. “Gonna keep him out of trouble then?” Gonna stay out of trouble, he doesn’t ask, but Milkovich isn’t stupid, so he'll hear it all the same.

Milkovich still glares, but something in his eyes seem to soften ever so slightly. “You betcha. Won’t have anything on us ever again,” he promises ambiguously, with a cocky grin and one eyebrow raised.

When he walks away, swagger in every step, he is every bit the unrepentant gangster – but Raymond keeps his eyes on him and sees the way he relaxes as soon as he stops next to Gallagher. Reaches out to touch him lightly on the arm, catching his eye. That same wondering smile on both of their faces.

Raymond thinks that maybe he won't actually see either of them again.

He is glad of it.