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atlafan · 4 years

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The Tutor - Part Three

a/n: alright, I think I have these two out of my system now. hope you enjoy! feedback is always appreciated, as well as reblogs!

Part One Part Two

Warnings: fluff, SMUT, slight angst, slight spitting, partying, alcohol consumption.

Words: 18.6K

After spending like what felt a week in bed together, the spring semester officially began. Y/N was in a stage of just feeling giddy from how good Harry made her feel. Now that they had been together for a few months, she felt totally comfortable with him. She would often sleep naked, or lounge around in just her underwear she knew they would be alone for a while. Harry didn’t mind one bit. He liked how cute and sweet Y/N was, and he loved being loved on by her.

When she walks into their Art of Film class she scoffs when she sees him sitting in the second row. She walks right up to him and rolls her eyes.

“We are not sitting this close up.” She shakes her head.

“I like sitting closer, Y/N.”

“But if we’re going to be watching movies, then we should sit in the back.”

“This isn’t even a stadium style classroom, so that doesn’t make any sense. If you wanna sit in the back then be my guest, but this is where I like to sit.”

Y/N sighs heavily and sits down next to him. She didn’t like sitting up front in class, it just meant she would be called on more and she didn’t much feel like participating to the extreme in just a gen ed. She liked to save her energy for her major courses.

“You’re a little too studious sometimes, you know that?”

“Y/N.” He hums warningly and side eyes her. “Are you going to be able to handle sitting next to me? Or is this going to be an issue?”

“Golly gee, professor, I don’t know, maybe I should come to your office hours later to discuss it.” She smirks at him and he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t be mean.” He pouts. “I have a tough time concentrating in the back sometimes, so sitting up front is better for me. We’re in the second row at least.”

“I suppose that’s true.” She sighs.

Other students fill in. Billy from senate is in the class as well, and sits behind Harry. Y/N gives him a smile as well. The professor walks in, and sets his bag down on the desk. He gets his computer hooked up to the tech station so he can use the projector.

“God, please don’t tell me we’re going to watch Fight Club and Pulp Fiction.” Y/N groans.

“I didn’t see those on the syllabus.” Harry says, taking a few papers out. “Actually, a lot of the films we’re going to watch were directed by women, or have strong female casts.”

“You…already printed the syllabus?”

“Yeah, it’s what I did after I sent you home last night. I did it for all of my classes.”

“Good morning everyone, I’m Professor Robinson, feel free to call me Eric.” He smiles. “I’m really excited about this course, it’s one of my favorites to teach. We’re going to watch some great films, and learn about what goes into making them. I hope you all will get the book needed for class. It’s a little dense, but I promise I’ll be able to explain it in ways for you to understand.” He starts to go over the syllabus a bit. “One of the first films we’re going to be watching is Baby Face, it came out in 1933, and is considered a drama and a noir. This came out right at the beginning of when the Hays Code was being introduced, so we’ll be comparing this to Double Indemnity, which came out in 1944, another Barbara Stanwyck film. You’ll be able to see how differently the films were made, and even the difference in how female characters were treated. We’ll go over the Hays Code as well, but these two films will be great starting points. Now, you may have noticed that Wednesday evenings were put on your schedules from 7-9PM. These are optional meeting times. I will be showing the films here during this time, or you can watch them on your own. Whatever’s easier.” He smiles and continues on.

Y/N was captivated. She wasn’t sure what to expect from the course, and even though they would be watching a few black and white films in the beginning, the subject matter actually interested her.

“Alright, now, I hate doing the normal ice breakers where we all state our names, our majors, and a fun fact, and I know you all have made claim to your seats, so, turn to the person next to you, introduce yourself and talk about what you look for in a film when you go to the theater.”

Harry and Y/N look at each other and smile. Harry extends his hand out to her and she giggles as he shakes it.

“You’re so silly! Okay, when I go to the movies, like, if I’m going to pay to see a movie, I want to know that I’m going to laugh and not be bored. Like, I know it’s a good movie if I don’t check my phone the entire time. I like when the beginning is easy to follow along so I’m not confused.”

“Same here. I sort of like being sucked into another world, like, escape for a little bit. I feel like when I go to the movies, it’s one of the few times I don’t need to think too much about anything. It’s when I feel my least anxious.”

“Okay!” Eric says. “Glad you all could get to know each other a bit. I think we can end class a little early. Please make sure to check out the moodle page, there is a forum post do before Wednesday, and make sure you have Baby Face watched by next Monday. Thanks everyone!”

“This is going to be a fun class.” Y/N says to Harry as they walk out together.

“I think so too.” He kisses her cheek. “Where are you headed next? I have stats.”

“I’m heading to my Macroeconomics class, and then I have Organizational Communication, then I’m done for the day.”

“Alright, and then I’ll assume you have lifting?”

“Mhm.” She grins at him and pulls him aside.

“What?”

“Your birthday is this Friday.”

“Is it?” He pretends. “Had no idea.”

“Well, I hope you know I have a lot planned.”

“Is that so?”

“Yup, you’re going to be spoiled rotten, babe.” She gets on her tip toes to kiss him. “I gotta go, I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.” He chuckles as he heads upstairs to his stats class.

Y/N and Harry decide to be good sports Wednesday night and go to the formal viewing of Baby Face for their class. Most of the class actually showed up, so it made it more fun to watch. There was a scene where a man put his hand on Barbara’s knee, and she poured hot coffee on him without skipping a beat. Y/N loved her. She climbed her way up to the top by manipulating men, just as the men her life when she was younger had tried to manipulate her.

“I loved that movie!” Y/N exclaims as they leave the academic building. “She was so badass, taking no one’s shit.”

“Yeah, I really liked it too.” He yawns. “Christ, I’m tired.” He leads her in the direction of her apartment.

“Did I tell you me, Gina, Amanda, and Becca all signed a lease for an off campus place next year? We’re really excited.”

“That’s great! We’re all staying in the same apartment, which I’m happy about. It’s the perfect spot.” Harry walks Y/N up to her door and she looks confused when he stays outside. “M’gonna go back to my place, it’s late and I have an 8AM tomorrow…”

“Oh…alright.” She wraps her arms around his neck, and his go around her waist. “Thanks for walking me home.”

“Anytime, baby.”

They stand outside kissing for a while before he detaches himself from her. They both giggle and say goodnight before she goes inside. Louis and Niall were in the living room when Harry gets back, and he flops down onto the couch with them.

“Hey, mate, how was the movie?” Louis asks.

“Not too bad, actually. We both enjoyed it. I don’t think I’ll have the energy to go every Wednesday night, though. I’m pooped.”

“Did you go to the gym this morning?” Niall asks.

“Yeah, went for my usual run. Forgot how tiring going to classes all day were. Sort of miss just working in the law office.”

“I’m surprised Y/N isn’t with you.” Louis says.

“Nah, I walked her home and told her I wanted to come back here. I can’t get into the habit of having a lot of sleepovers during the week.” He hoists himself to his feet. “Well, I’m off to bed, goodnight.”

“Night, mate.” Niall and Louis say.

Harry gets cozy in bed, and then groans to himself when his boxers become uncomfortably tight. He rolls his eyes at himself. Did he have to press up against Y/N while they were making out earlier? Of course he was fucking did, and now he was too riled up to fall asleep. He wondered if the same thing ever happened to her.

Harry: can’t sleep

Y/N: thought you were exhausted

Harry: I was, but now I can’t stop thinking about you

Y/N: me or my parts, lmao

Harry: YOU

Y/N: not much I can do to help you from all the way over here…

Harry: picture???

Y/N: Harry!

Harry: you sent a ton over break!

Y/N: that was different

Harry: please??

Y/N: fine, I’ll send you a snap, gimme a minute

Y/N rips her blankets off her body, unsure of what sort of picture he was hoping for. She gets up and strips herself of her bed-shirt, and takes a mirror selfie, careful to hide most of her face, just in case, and sends it to him on snapchat. Harry was already stroking himself in anticipation. He grins ear to ear when he sees the notification pop up on his phone, and opens it immediately.

“Oh, fuck me.” He groans when he sees her naked body on display for him. She had squeezed one of her breasts, and he could just make out her biting her bottom lip. He knew she didn’t really like receiving nudes, even if it was from him, so he sends her back a pouty selfie telling her how fucking beautiful she was.

Y/N: you did this to yourself, you could have come up

Harry: I was trying to be good

Y/N: look at you now, giving yourself a hand job

Harry: don’t be mean…would you send another?

Y/N: yeah, hold on

She sends him a snap of her breasts pushed together, and that does it for him. He bites down on his knuckle while come gets on his other fist and lower belly. He gives himself a minute before cleaning himself up and laying back in bed.

Harry: thank you baby

Y/N: you realize you owe me

Harry: I’ll give you anything you want, you know that

Y/N: love you, goodnight

Harry: love you too, sweet dreams

He sighs happily as his eyes flutter closed. Y/N rolls her eyes and smirks to herself. Sometimes these moments were gentle reminders that even though Harry was a little more “woke” than most guys, he was still your average college guy. He wanted nudes from his girlfriend, and he wanted to sext even though he easily could have just come inside. She wasn’t annoyed her anything, and she didn’t want to be with his birthday so close. However, now she was left there, aroused at the idea of him simply getting off to a couple of pictures of her. She figures if he could do that, then she could do the same. She told him about most of her winter break, but what she hadn’t told him was about her new little friend. The girls had all gone to a sex shop, and she bought a little bullet vibrator. Y/N gets up and goes into her closet to use it. If he didn’t want to come in to satisfy her, she had other ways of getting around it.

Thursdays were days Y/N could meet up with Harry for lunch, so she happily goes to see him at the dining hall. She smiles and sits down with her food. He had his laptop out, typing away at something.

“How could you possibly already have something so important to do?” She sighs.

“Student senate stuff.” He says and then closes his laptop. “Thanks for your help last night.” He smirks and then kisses her cheek.

“You’re welcome.” She sips on his drink.

“Are you excited for your game tonight?”

“Mhm.”

“Are you upset with me?”

“No, why would I be?”

“You seem a little annoyed with me…”

“Not at all, Har.” She shrugs. “I just think that if you wanted to fuck me, you could have come inside.”

“I didn’t feel like spending the night.”

“I’ve told you before that you don’t need to.”

“You say that, but then you give me this look, and then I feel guilty…so I just don’t come in at all. It’s easier.”

“Mm, and then you get to conveniently rub one out.”

“Are you upset that I asked you to send me pictures?”

“No, I suppose it’s flattering. I just think I make things a little too easy for you sometimes. It’s not exactly easy for me to get off on my own, you know?”

“Aw, did I leave you hanging?” He genuinely felt bad.

“Nope, took care of it myself. Don’t exactly need you, do I?” She grins. “Made my back arch off the bed all by myself, no help from you whatsoever.” She bites into her sandwich, and looks innocently as his grimacing face. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re being mean. What are you saying, I don’t make you feel good anymore?”

“No, you make me feel plenty good. But I know a thing or two now, so don’t you worry about not wanting to come up and fuck me because I can handle it all on my own. In fact, let’s be like an old married couple who have sex nights and just do it once a week. That could be fun.”

“You are annoyed with me.”

“I’m not.” She leans closer to him so no one around can hear. “I just don’t want to be your personal porn star when you can’t fall asleep at night.”

“That’s not what I…” He sucks his teeth. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, you’re right. It was a little selfish, I’m sorry.” He pouts at her and hides his face in her neck. “Love you so much.” He kisses on her neck slowly, and she sighs.

“It’s okay.” She rubs his back. She really couldn’t stay upset with him when he was like this. He was just too cute. “I love you too.”

He sits up straight and pecks her lips before eating more of his food.

“I can hang out tonight if you want, no Friday classes this semester.”

“Me neither! Although, I’ll still have practice tomorrow morning. I’ll think about it. Maybe you could come to dinner after the game?”

“I’d love to.”

The girls ended up losing, so there was no community dinner down town, and Y/N was in too sour of a mood to have alone time with Harry, which he understood. Tomorrow was his birthday, so she’d rather start fresh with him when she was in a better mood.

“Shh.”

Harry’s eyes flutter open around nine. He usually never sleeps this “late”, but his alarm didn’t go off for some reason. His eyes snap open when he sees, Y/N, Niall, and Louis all creeping into his room. They were holding balloons and streamers and confetti.

“Happy birthday!” They all scream and dog pile on Harry. He laughs hysterically.

“Okay, okay!” He yelps. “Can’t breathe!”

The boys both get off the bed, but Y/N stays straddling him.

“Right, well, we’ll be whipping up some brekkie downstairs.” Louis says with a wink as he and Niall leave the room.

Y/N gets up quickly to lock the door and then she gets right back on top of Harry. His hands grip her hips tightly.

“What a nice surprise.” He smiles up at her. “Do you mind if I go brush my teeth and all that? Just woke up, you know.”

“You know what’s funny? With all of the excitement this morning, I forgot to take a shower.” Harry’s eyes grow wide at her. “What do you say, Har?” She says lowly.

“They’re home…”

“They’ll be busy making what I asked them to, and they’ve been told not to come upstairs. They just want you to have a good birthday, and so do I.”

“Do you even have anything with you?”

“Yeah, my bag’s right over there.” She points to it. “So…”

“Alright, yeah, let’s go take a shower.” He says excitedly.

Harry brushes his teeth while Y/N gets her hair up in a bun so it won’t get wet.

“Did you shower after practice?”

“I rinsed very quickly, not the same thing.” She takes her clothes off and presses her body against Harry’s. “This is much better.”

“I agree.”

He pulls the curtain back and helps her in. They both giggle as the water hits his back, and she wraps her arms around his neck. His hands slide down to her ass and he squeezes her. He licks into her mouth, and she happily glides her tongue along his. She bites his bottom lip and steps back, grabbing at his body wash.

“Which scrubbie is yours?”

“Oh, I just use these.” He holds up two gloves that are made from exfoliating rags. “They work much better and they’re more sanitary.”

“Learn something new about you every day, Har.” She grabs the gloves and puts them on, and squeezes the body wash onto them. “Turn around, gonna getcha all clean.”

“Wow, I’m really being spoiled today.”

He turns around and nearly purrs at the feeling of her scrubbing his back. She turns him around so she can do the same to his front and arms. She peels the gloves off and rinses them out.

“Thanks, baby.” He smiles as the soap rinses off him.

“Want me to wash your hair too?” She asks shyly. “Grew my nails out for you.” She holds them up to show him and he his mouth forms in an “O”.

“Yes, please.”

She giggles and get his shampoo lathered into her hands, and he bends down a bit so she can properly scrub at his head. He moans softly as her nails scratch at his head. She massages his scalp a bit as well before helping him rinse it out. Once he’s all clean, she gets on her knees in front of him, and starts stroking him up and down.

“Is this what you wanted the other night?”

“Yes.” He grunts. “Are you sure you feel like doing this right now?”

“Mhm.” She hums before swirling her tongue around his tip.

Harry mindlessly grips at the tile on the wall while she bobs her head up and down on him. She swallows around him and plays with his balls, doing everything she knows he really likes.

“Baby, please, let me touch you.”

She looks up at him and he nearly loses it. He helps her stand up and he pushes her up against the wall, and she gasps with surprise at his abrupt forcefulness. His lips sponge at her neck and across her chest. One of his hands slides between her legs and her head rolls back against the tile.

“We’re wasting water.” She groans. “Let’s get out, and then we can play a little more.”

“You’re not just teasing?”

“No, babe.”

“Okay.”

They both get out, and get wrapped in towels. Harry smells the food from downstairs, and his stomach growls, but he soon forgets he’s hungry when he sees Y/N drop her towel and shake out her hair.

“Come and get me, birthday boy.”

He drops his towel and nearly tackles her onto his bed. He nips at her lips and works his way down her body, biting and sucking where he pleases. He just wanted his head between her legs. He spreads her apart, and licks a flat stripe up her center.

“Jesus.” She shivers from that alone, and slots her fingers through his hair.

He sucks harshly on her clit, and swirls his tongue around it, nibbling a little before sucking on it again. She moans out a little too loudly and she covers her mouth with her hand. She didn’t exactly want to put on a show for the boys downstairs. That all goes to hell when he licks into her. She props herself up on her elbows to watch him. He looks up at her while he fucks her with his tongue, and the eye contact is too much for the both of them, but they continue through any embarrassment they may feel.

“Oh my god.” She pants as her head rolls back. His mouth moves back to her clit, and two of his fingers slide inside her, twisting around as he pumps them in and out. “Harry, fuck, oh my god.”

He curls his fingers up as he gets in knuckle deep, and rubs them against her g-spot, as he continues to suck on her clit. He groans against her when he feels her tighten around him.

“Gonna come?”

“Yes, oh my fucking god, shit!” She cries out as she pulses and vibrates around him. He takes his fingers out and laps away at her as she comes down from her high.

“Ready for my cock?”

“Please.” She breathes and nods.

He gets up and grabs a condom to roll on. He gets back on the bed, but she pins him down, pinning his hands on either side of his head.

“Let me take care of it, baby, just want you to feel good and relax.”

She lines herself up and sinks down on him. He moans out at the tight feeling. She brings her hands back down to his and intertwines their fingers as she keeps them pinned on his pillow. She rocks back and forth on him slowly, just getting adjusted, and then she starts to get a good pace going, moving up and down on him.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He grits his teeth and squeezes her hands. “You feel so good.” He was panting, watching her above him like this was really doing something to him, and he sort of speaks before he thinks. “Would you spit in my mouth?”

Y/N kept moving on him, but she looked down at him deeply concerned.

“You want me to what?!”

“Never mind!”

“No, I’ll do it!”

“Forget I said anything! I don’t even know why I-“

“Harry, you want me to spit? I’ll spit!”

“It’s weird, it’s too weird, I went too far!”

“Open your mouth!”

Harry’s mouth falls open, his tongue peeking out. Y/N wells up some spit in her mouth and leans down so her mouth was close to Harry’s. She didn’t want to spit harshly. She sort of just wanted her saliva to drip from her tongue to his. Maybe that could be sensual? So she does just that. She opens her mouth and lets the spit in her mouth roll from her tongue to his. She was moving on him in slow circles as she did this. He swallows it and looks up at her. He uses the power from his legs to thrust up into her since his hands were busy squeezing hers.

“Do it again.” He breathes.

She happily obliges and does it again for him. It was his birthday, she’d do anything he wanted…within reason of course. She supposed it wasn’t the weirdest thing he could have asked for. His tongue had been so far up her cunt, swapping spit was probably the least odd bodily fluid they could have shared.

She stays close to him, sucking on his tongue while they move in sync with each other. She starts squeezing and tightening around him. She was rubbing up against him in the perfect way, and he was about ready to lose it himself.

“M’gonna come, Y/N.” He groans.

“Me too, fuck, me too.”

She sits up straight and her back arches as she comes, and his release wasn’t too far behind. He feels like he explodes inside of the condom. She lets go of his hands slowly and he helps her off of him. He runs a hand through his hair as he watches her wobble around to get some pants and a t-shirt on.

“Just gonna go pee.” She kisses his cheek and slips out of his room.

He disposes of the condom, and puts his boxers and sweatpants on, not much feeling like a shirt at the moment. He was sitting on his bed, twiddling his thumbs, when she came back into the room. She sits down next to him and smiles.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah…I just, um, was that weird?”

“What?”

“When I asked you to spit in my mouth?”

“Um…” She blushes. “It took me a little off guard, but it’s really not that weird.”

“I don’t even know why I wanted you to do that, it just sort of slipped out.”

“It’s really not that different from kissing, I mean, we technically spit on each other all the time.”

“Guess that’s true.” He smirks and grabs his glasses. “It’s been quite the morning.”

“It’s not over yet.” She stands up and reached for his hand. “Come on.”

They both come downstairs, and Harry gasps.

“Yorkshire pudding?!”

“Got the recipe of Delia Smith’s website.” Louis laughs. “Hope it tasted good. We made eggs, beans, and bacon too.”

“Thanks guys.”

It was a nice breakfast for the four of them. Y/N hangs out with Harry all day. They paint each other’s nails, watch a movie, cuddle, and just enjoy each other’s company. He had gotten a little sleepy, so he was peacefully napping with his head resting in her chest. Y/N noticed that Harry was a stomach sleeper, but he liked having something to hold on to. It was really cute. She was playing with his hair while reading on her phone. It was a really nice lazy day, and a perfect way to make sure everything was getting set up for his surprise party at Ashley’s. She hears his phone start to buzz and sees it a FaceTime request from Gemma.

“Babe, it’s your sister.”

“Okay.” He mumbles and sits up. “Hello!”

“Happy birthday!” Gemma and Anne say together.

“Harry, are you still in bed?” Anne asks.

“Was taking a nap, Mum. It’s my birthday, I’m allowed to catch up on some sleep.”

“Are you doing anything fun?”

“Y/N and the guys made me breakfast, and then we watched a movie, and I think we’re going out tonight.”

“Is she with you now?” Gemma asks.

“Yeah.” He flips the camera.

“Hi, Y/N!” Gemma says.

“Hello.” She says shyly and waves. Harry flips the camera back to himself.

“I love you both, but m’all groggy.”

“Alright, honey, I sent you a nice package so hopefully you’ll get it soon. We love you!”

“Thanks!” He tosses his phone elsewhere, and pushes Y/N back down so he can put his head back on her chest. “So comfy.”

“We should probably get up soon…”

“Why? What else you got planned?”

“Just dinner with friends. We should be there around seven.”

“S’only four now, plenty of time to keep chilling out. I never get to do this, it’s nice.”

“Okay, babe.” She goes back to playing with his hair and reading on her phone.

When it was time to get ready, Y/N put on some black tights that had a pattern on them, her black mini pencil skirt, and a long sleeve red crop top. Harry had a long sleeve blue button up on paired with his black jeans. He was putting his boots one when he watched Y/N zip up her own boots.

“You look so fucking sexy.” He says as he gets up and wraps his arms around her. “Are you sure we have somewhere to be, and I can’t just take this all off you?”

“Sorry.” Y/N giggles. “But dinner’s waiting.”

“But I’m only hungry for one thing.” He pecks at her lips.

“Didn’t you have enough of that earlier?”

“Never enough, babe.”

“Oh, Harry.” She swats a hand at his chest. “Come on.”

They both get their coats on and head out. She loops her arm around his, and leads the way. He realizes they’re headed towards Ashley’s apartment, but he doesn’t question it. She opens the door and everyone yells surprise. Harry laughs and walks in. They put their coats away and he’s amazed at the spread of appetizers there was.

“Thank you all so much, this is great.” He smiles.

All of his friends from senate were there, Louis, Niall, some other people from the soccer team, and other friends. And of course the entire women’s hockey team, but that was a given. A cake is brought out and everyone sings happy birthday to him. After settling down from the food, all of the drinks come out. Everyone takes shots of tequila, and then Y/N makes Harry a vodka cranberry, his favorite. That’s what he stuck with all night. He didn’t want to throw up from mixing drinks.

Y/N was off talking to her friends, but when the music starts to get good, Harry finds her, and yanks her towards him. She wraps her arms around his neck as they start to slow grind.

“Can’t believe you put all of this together for me.”

“Well, it wasn’t all me, the guys helped.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He presses his forehead to hers. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too.”

Harry was really drunk, like, more drunk than Y/N had ever seen him, so she was taking it easy on her own drinks. He stayed attached to her while they danced for the rest of the night. She indulged in making out with him, but there was no way they were having sex again when they got back to his place. Louis and Niall had to help walk him back because there was no way she could carry him. They help him up the stairs in and into his room.

“I’ve got it from here, boys, thanks.”

“Night, Y/N.” Niall says as he and Louis leave.

“Okay, let’s…Harry…” She giggles as he sloppily kisses her neck. “Come on, I wanna get you into bed.”

“Mm, me too. Let’s get you into bed.”

“No, baby, for sleep. Gotta get you out of these clothes for sleep.” He bites down on her neck and squeezes her ass and she groans for a moment before pushing him off. She puts her hands on her hips and looks at him. “We can do that in the morning, you’re really drunk.”

She steps forward and unbuttons his shirt, and gets his pants off. She sits him down on the bed while she gets her own clothes off. She throws on one of his t-shirts and flips the lights off. She climbs into bed with him, and he spoons her, pressing his bulge against her ass.

“M’so hard.” He whines.

“I know, but there’s nothing I can do about that right now.”

“You gave me such a nice birthday.” He holds her closer and nestles into her hair.

“I’m glad you had a nice day, babe.” She chuckles.

“It was the best.” He yawns, and not too long after…he’s out.

Y/N was grateful he didn’t get sick. She didn’t do well with throw up. She drifts off slowly after him. She wakes up a couple of hours later to the sound of his door opening and closing. She sits up immediately, hoping he wasn’t getting up because he was sick. He comes back moment later chugging water from his water bottle.

“Oh, thank god.” She breathes.

“Need some?”

“Yeah.” She smiles and takes the bottle from him.

“Sorry I woke you. I was fucking parched.” He crawls back into bed and takes the bottle from her. “Think I’m still a little drunk.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised, I let you drink too much.” She runs a hand through his hair.

“Oh, but I had so much fun. I’ll just sleep it off.” He gives her a few pecks before settling back down. She rests her head on his chest and he holds her close. This was the life.

The team made it to the first round of playoffs, but nothing further, so their season ended at the end of February. It was sad for the seniors on the team, but mostly everyone was happy for their break. No more early morning practices. They just needed to keep up with lifts in the late afternoons. This also meant that Y/N could stay out later most nights. Ashley and Megan had people over almost every night to drink. They weren’t raging, but Y/N was loving not having to worry about getting up at the crack of dawn. Harry didn’t always go with her, which was fine. He had 8AM’s on Tuesdays and Thursdays, after all.

There was one Tuesday night Harry was already asleep in bed when his phone started ringing. He saw Y/N’s name, and swiped to take the call.

“Baby?” He says groggily.

“Hey sunshine!”

“Amanda?” He sits up. “Why do you have Y/N’s phone?”

“Well, her head’s in the toilet at the moment. She really wants to go home, but it would look bad if one of us carried her. UPD would question us for sure.”

“She’s sick?” He sighs, already pulling some sweats on.

“Yeah, so is Gina. It’s no Bueno.”

“What the hell happened? Where are you?”

“At Ashley’s…we did shots, and then played slap the bag. Not a great mix.”

“Okay, I’ll be there soon.”

He rubs his eyes, grabs his glasses and heads out. He walks right into Ashley’s. Her apartment was filled with smoke and people. Harry partied like anyone else, but not so much on a Tuesday night. He walks to where he knows the bathroom is and doesn’t see anyone.

“Harry!” Amanda says. “She’s over here.” She tugs him over to the living room where Y/N was basically passed out on the couch.

“Christ, where’s Gina?”

“She’s crashing in Megan’s room. Come on, Y/N, Harry’s here.” She nudges her.

“Hm?” Her eyes open slightly and then they grow wide. “No! I don’t want him to see me like this!” She hides her face in her hands.

“It’s okay, babe, let’s get you home.” Harry says, lifting her up bridal styles. “I can’t carry her likes across campus, we’ll get stopped. Help me get her on my back, that’s less weird looking.”

Amanda nods and helps Y/N get situated so Harry could give her a piggy back ride. She was complete dead weight.

“She’s gonna kill me for calling you, but she didn’t want to stay…I’m sorry, I know you were sleeping.”

“It’s alright, Amanda. I’d rather her be safe. You guys have been going a little nuts lately, yeah?”

“We can’t help it. We’re not allowed to get crazy during the week during the season. Things will settle down soon. Spring break is coming up, you know? Last year we all went home and detoxed essentially.”

Amanda gets the apartment door open, and lets Harry take Y/N upstairs.

“Are you gonna spew again?”

“No.” She mumbles.

“Alright, well, I’m gonna put this bucket here.” He brings her barrel over. “Let’s get you out of these clothes, yeah?”

“Go home, you need to sleep.”

“I’m gonna take care of you.”

“No, you’re gonna be mad at me in the morning.”

“I won’t be.”

“Yes you will.” She pouts and her eyes start to tear up.

“Nope, none of that, come on.”

“I can take my own clothes off.”

“Okay, I’ll get your pj’s then.” He goes into her dresses and she lunges towards him, tackling him down. “Y/N! What the fuck?!”

“Don’t go in there! I have things in there you can’t see!”

“You could have just said that! You’re not on the fucking ice!” He gets them both up. “What’s in there that I can’t see?”

“Personal things.”

“Babe.” He pinches the bridge of her nose. “Get your clothes off, now, and I will get your pj’s.”

He goes back into where he knows she keeps her larger t-shirts.

“Harry!” His eyes grow wide after grabbing a shirt off the top. There were two different vibrators and a dildo. “I’ve only ever used the little one…”

“Put this on.” He hands her the t-shirt and closes the drawer.

She strips out of her clothes and he looks the other way to give her some privacy. She gets stuck when she tries to get her shirt on and he helps her.

“Fuck, I have to pee so bad.” She says, sprinting out of the room. He sits down on her bed and waits for her. She brushes her teeth while she’s in the bathroom too. “You’re still here?” She asks, shocked.

“Where the fuck am I going? I’m not leaving you like this.”

“But…you saw the things.”

“We can talk about it tomorrow, or never, I don’t really care.” She sits on his thighs, straddling his lap. “Y/N.” He sighs.

“I just…I don’t want you to think…I mean…I got them over winter break, and-“

“I don’t care, you don’t need to tell me, okay? Can we go to sleep?”

“You’re gonna stay?”

“I just said I was going to! Come on.”

“You’re angry.”

“I’m a little cranky, yeah. Your friend called me drunk to tell me your head was in a toilet while I was sleeping. At least tomorrow we don’t have class until 10:30, so I’ll have to get back and grab my shit beforehand. Now, lay down on the edge so you’re closer to the bucket.” He rids himself of his sweats, leaving himself in his boxers, and gets in with her. She turns to face him while he’s facing her. “You need to turn over.”

“But you’re so pretty.” She whispers and it makes him crack a smile as she pokes his dimple. “I’m sorry she called you.”

“I’m not, I’d come get you any time. I’ll carry you home whenever you need.” He strokes the side of her face. “You’ve done the same for me, it’s fine. Just lay on your stomach for me, okay? I’ll rub your back how you like.”

“Okay.” She smiles and does as he says. She falls asleep with him softly petting on her and it feels amazing.

His alarm goes off at 8AM and she groans.

“Up, let’s go.” He says, rummaging through her closet for her spare towels. “We’re showering quickly and then going to my place, and then we’re getting greasy breakfast sandwiches so you’re not hungover for class.”

“Eric won’t care, he likes me.” Y/N mumbles.

“A little too much if you ask me.”

“Oh stop. I could say the same about that freshman you’re tutoring.”

“How about neither of us play the jealous game?”

“Deal.” She stands and nearly vomits. “Ugh, I feel like shit.”

“You’ll feel better soon.”

“You came to my rescue last night?”

“Yup, that’s me, prince charming.” He rolls his eyes and tugs her out of her room.

She puts her hair up and they both get into the shower. Harry gets them both clean, and dressed. He makes sure she has everything for class, and then they head to his place. Once he has all of his things, and has new sweats on, they head to the coffee shop on campus for breakfast sandwiches.

“Harry…you’re wearing sweatpants to class.”

“I’m aware.”

“But you never wear sweatpants to class.”

“I’m a little fucking tired, Y/N, is that alright?”

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not…” He sighs and looks at her. “I just…I’m feeling anxious from things happening so abruptly. My entire routine got messed up and-“ He could feel his breathing quickening so he takes a deep breath. “It’s fine, I’m fine, we’re fine, let’s just go eat.”

They both get coffees and breakfast sandwiches and grab a table to sit. They had about thirty minutes before class, so they could take their time eating.

“Fuck, this was a good idea.” She moans as she eats.

“Yeah.” He agrees as he bites into his own. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Maybe go a little less hard at the parties during the week?”

“You got it. I hate throwing up, I’m not dealing with that again, nor am I going to do that to you again.”

“I wouldn’t care…it’s just…it was a school night is all.”

Y/N nods her head and continues eating her breakfast sandwich. Once they’re done, they head to class and sit down. Eric was there a little earlier than usual.

“Ah, Y/N, I’m glad you’re here. I wanna talk to you about your paper on your Bond comparative essay.”

“Oh…okay.” Y/N walks up to him and he takes her paper out. Harry can’t help but watch the conversation as other students come into class. “I know I’m not a very good writer…”

“No! You’re brilliant, actually. This is one of the better papers I’ve seen. You made a lot of incredible points. You got an A, see?” He shows her and her eyes grow wide. “I was wondering if I could if I could hang onto this and scan it to save as a copy. Students are always asking me for example papers, and I think this is a great paper to use.”

“Are you serious? Yeah, that’s fine with me.”

“Great, thanks.” He smiles. “Well done.”

“Thank you…” She blinks and sits back down. She looks at Harry in shock. “He wants to keep my paper to use as an example.”

“That’s great! You worked really hard on that one, Y/N, you deserve a little praise.”

Eric passes out the rest of the papers, and gives Y/N hers so she could look at any notes he may have made. Harry also got an A, not that Y/N was surprised, but she was happy for him nonetheless.

“H, what did you get?” Billy whispers from behind him. Harry turns to look at him.

“An A, what about you?”

“B+, not too bad.”

“Alright everyone, today, as a treat, we’re going to watch Austin Powers since we’ve just finished our Bond unit. Since we’ve watched a few films, you’ll see that this movie takes a lot from Gold Finger and Golden Eye.” He says as he starts the movie and turns the lights.

“Ugh, thank god. If there was ever a day to just chill in class, it’s today.” Y/N whispers to Harry.

“Agreed.” He whispers.

Eric clears his throat to get their attention, and they both sit back in their seats. There were plenty of laughs throughout class as the movie continued. Y/N stretches as she stands once class ends, revealing a little bit of her stomach. Harry catches Eric looking briefly, and puts his arm around her shoulders.

“Have a good stats class.” She puckers lips and kisses him.

“Thanks, have a good rest of your day. I won’t be able to meet up tonight, I’m doing a group tutoring session, and then I have an 8AM tomorrow…”

“Okay, well…thanks again for last night. I really owe you.”

“No you don’t.” He smiles and gives her a lingering kiss before they part ways.

Spring break was definitely the detox Y/N needed from all of the drinking she had been doing with the hockey team, although, she really didn’t want to go home. Harry would be staying on campus with any other students who couldn’t go home. He had projects he needed to work on, but he also thought it would be a nice time break to spend with Y/N. She couldn’t stay on campus, though, because she needed to work at the bar. She also needed to bring up going to Italy this summer to her mom.

“Great work tonight, honey.” Angie says to her as they wipe down the tables.

“Thanks…um…can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course!” She stops what she’s doing to look at her daughter. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, I just…well, I’ve been invited somewhere this summer, and I’d really like to go.”

“Alright, where have you been invited to?”

“Italy.” She mumbles.

“Come again?”

“Italy.” She says a little louder. “See, Harry-“

“Oh, here we go.” Angie rolls her eyes.

“Mum, please, let me just explain.”

“Okay.” She crosses her arms and sits down.

“He and his friends spend three weeks in Italy every summer, one of their dad’s has a house by the water or something. They go end of July through early August, so it’s not like I’d be missing the holiday rush…I’d like to go the whole time, but I’d be willing to compromise, and I’ll pay my own way.”

“You expect me to let you take an international flight alone? What if you get abducted?”

“Mum.”

“Three weeks alone with your boyfriend is a long time…”

“Well, we won’t be alone, his friends will be there.”

“You know what I mean.” She sighs. “I really hate this whole you being an adult thing. I can’t really say no, you’re almost twenty years old, and it will be summer so you should take advantage and travel…” She takes a moment and looks at Y/N. “Could you go for two weeks instead of three? I think that’s plenty of time to spend together.”

“Yeah! I can definitely do that.” She smiles.

“And I’ll pay for half the ticket, that’ll be your birthday present. Your passport should still be good from high school.”

“Mum!” She squeals and hugs Angie. “Thank you so much, Harry’s going to be so excited!” She kisses her cheek. “I’m excited too, of course.”

“Well, I should hope so.” She chuckles, and they continue to close down the bar.

Y/N convinced Angie to drive her back to campus on Friday instead of Sunday. She dropped off all her things, and walked to Harry’s. She knocks on the door, and he opens it confused, but happy to see her.

“Hey!” He wraps his arms around her. “You’re back early.”

“Wanted to surprise you, can I come in?”

“Of course! Yeah, come on in.”

“Are you busy?”

“I was just working on a paper, but I can definitely take a break.” Hey both go up to his room, and he moves his things away from the bed so they can both sit. “Got a lot done this week, I’m feeling good.”

“That’s great! Okay, so, I have really good news that I’ve been keeping to myself because I wanted to tell you in person.”

“Oh? Please, do tell.” He grins.

“My mom said I could come to Italy this summer! Only for two weeks instead of three, but still.”

“That’s great!” He cups her jaw and pulls her in for a kiss. “We’re gonna have so much fun. I can show you what website to go on for the plane ticket, there’s this site that sells them for really cheap. I use it when I go home and stuff.”

“Sounds good, thanks. I think two weeks will be plenty, don’t you?”

“I mean, sure.” He shrugs.

“I wouldn’t want us getting on each other’s nerves being together 24/7.”

“We’ll be too busy to get on each other’s nerves, trust me. I can’t wait to tell my friends you’re coming, they’re dying to meet you.”

“Aw, that’s sweet. What are their names?”

“Well, Lou and Niall will be there, they came last year and are coming again. They go right from there to here for soccer. Then there’s my friend Adam, his dad is the one who owns the house, and Mike, Ben, and Clark.”

“Are any of them seeing someone?”

“Um, Adam brought a guy with him last summer, but they’re not dating anymore, so he may be going stag.” He shrugs. “When we were in high school we used to bring a lot of girls with us because we thought we were cool.” He laughs. “But Ben might bring someone, I’m not sure exactly. Sometimes we would just meet people in Italy to hang out with.”

“Hang out with.” She rolls her eyes. “Any Italian chicks I need to worry about.”

“Not that I can think of.” He taps his chin playfully. “You know me, I’m a real sexual deviant.” He says sarcastically and she nudges him. “Come here.”

He pulls her down to lay with him, and they both sigh. He rubs her back and she lays her leg over both of his, pressing into the bulge that’s growing in his pants. He tilts her chin up to look at him and she removes his glasses. He presses his lips to hers and she moves the rest of the way on top of him. He licks at her bottom lip, and she opens up for him. He has one arm wrapped around her back, and the other one around her ass, keeping her nice and close. Her fingers slot through his soft hair and she moans softly when she rolls hips her hips slowly on his.

“Missed you.” He says against her lips, taking her bottom lip between his teeth.

“Missed you too.” She whimpers as he presses his hips harder up towards hers.

Things started to get a little more heated from there, Y/N could feel her lips getting swollen from how hard her and Harry were kissing each other, and she was about ready to lose it in her pants from the way they were grinding on each other.

“Harry.” She groans. “Please.”

“Please what?” He moves her hair away from her neck and starts sucking on her soft skin.

“Can we please fuck?”

“Yes.”

He flips them over so she’s on her back, and he yanks her leggings and panties off in one swoop. She gets her shirt and bra off while he gets naked himself. He climbs back onto the bed and he wraps her legs around his waist. She slides her hands up and down his torso and chest.

“Have I ever told you how much I love your tattoos? Because I do, they’re so cool.” Her hands trace over the ferns on his hips.

“Thanks baby.” His hands knead her breasts.

Harry slides his hard dick over her folds and against her clit, causing her hips to buck up. He dips his head down to kiss on her neck and her hand wrap around his back, nails digging in.

“Do you wanna…put it in?”

She feels him nod his head yes, and before she knows it he’s pushing inside her. Her gasp turns into a moan. She bites down on his shoulder as he rocks in and out of her. He sucks on one of her nipples as he thrusts in and out.

“Feels so fucking good.” Her head rolls back into the pillows.

He pulls out and grins at her. She raises an eyebrow at him, and then he flips her over, pulls her up to her knees. She looks back at him as he slides in again. He gets an even pace going, and then he tugs her back to him, his chest flush with her back. He’s got one arm snaked around her, and the other rubbing slow circles on her clit.

“Fuck, oh my god.” Her head rolls back to his shoulder and she looks up at him. He slots his mouth over hers, and the both moan into each other.

“This why you wanted to come back early? Just really needed my cock?” He says into her ear and it has her pushing her ass against him.

“Thought about you every night.” She groans.

“Yeah? Did you bring home your little toys to help you out?”

“H-Harry, don’t-“

“Maybe I should use one on you sometime, would you like that?”

She was dripping all around his cock, she loved when he would just say whatever he wanted into her ear.

“Only wanna feel you.” She admits. It was true, she didn’t like having to use her vibrator, as good as it felt. She really just preferred Harry’s hands on her.

She feels him smile into her neck, knowing that was exactly what he wanted to hear. He picks up the pace on the way he’s rubbing her clit and he feels her squeeze around him. She hooks an arm up around his head to tug at his hair.

“Shit, Harry!” She cries out as she comes to her release.

He gently lets go of her so she can press her front to the mattress. He keeps his hands on her hips as he drives into her hard and fast. He had her panting, and he was panting too. He pulls out and comes on her ass and back before collapsing next to her.

“Fuck.” He breathes and then looks at her. “You have the most perfect ass I’ve ever fucking seen.”

“Shut up.” She giggles.

“Let me clean you up.” He kisses her forehead and then gets up to grab a rag to wipe her clean.

“Thank you.”

He gets back onto the bed and pulls her close to him. They lay there naked for a bit, just enjoying the time skin to skin.

“Do you feel like having a little date night tonight since you’re here? We could go downtown for dinner and then come back to watch a movie in the living room.”

“I’d like that. I’d just wanna go home and change first.”

“Oh cute, then I can come pick you up.”

“Always the romantic.” She kisses his cheek and gets up to grab her clothes. “Give me, like, an hour to get ready, yeah?”

“Sounds good to me, see you soon.” He smiles and kisses her as she leaves his room.

Harry was really happy that Y/N came back a couple of days early. He was trying to play it a little more cool, but she was such a source of comfort for him. He had incorporated her into his routine, so when she wasn’t around he would get a little anxious, which he knew wasn’t healthy, but there wasn’t much he could do about it right now.

He puts on a green sweater with the black jeans he knows she likes, and puts his contacts in. He runs his hand through his hair a few times, getting his curls to sit just right. He knew he needed a haircut, but he also liked when Y/N would really tug on his hair. His logic was the longer his hair the better the grip she could get on him. He left the bit of scruff he had grown out and put on some cologne. He heads down the stairs to put his boots on and goes into the living room.

“Going on a date with my girl, mind if we have the living room when we get back? We’re gonna watch a movie. You can join if you want-“

“And watch the two of you make out?” Louis scoffs. “I’ll pass, mate.”

“Same here.” Niall chuckles. “But we can definitely clear out of here.”

“Thanks, I just get sick of watching stuff on my little laptop screen. Are you guys doing anything tonight?”

“Might go see some of the girls from the other international house. I don’t see myself staying out too late, I went a little too hard last night.” Louis says.

“Yeah, I spewed in the bushes, so I won’t be drinking tonight.” Niall says.

“Alright.” Harry chuckles. “Well, see you later.”

Harry makes the walk to Y/N’s apartment, and he knocks on the door when he gets there. His cheeks immediately blush when he sees her. She had a dark blue thing sweater dress on, showing off all her curves. She paired with some black boots and black tights, looking cuter than ever.

“You look so pretty.” He pouts at her and takes her hand.

“Thanks, thought I’d dress up a little It’s rare that we get to go on a real date.”

“I know! I’m really glad you came back a couple days early. Meant it when I said I missed you.”

“I meant it too.” She loops her arm through his so she can cling to him a little tighter.

The end up at the local bistro, even though Y/N told Harry it would be too expensive, but he assured her it was fine. She talks about her week working at the bar, and he talks about what he might do for work this summer.

“I could always go back to the bakery, but I really want to take the rest of the semester to figure out what I actually want to do. I might go see my advisor next week. I literally have zero idea what I want to do with my life.” He sighs and pops a fry into his mouth.

“Does anyone?” She laughs.

“Well, you sort of do. You’ve got a job lined up right away after graduation.”

“Yeah, working for my mom until she decides to retire really sounds great.” She rolls her eyes. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I wanna take over the bar, but I wanna do it more in a way where like I could open up multiple locations, you know? I could oversee multiple businesses across the country.”

“Wow…that would be really cool.”

“It’s just an idea, I don’t know if it’ll ever happen. People like small town bars with good food, and that’s what my mom has, I think opening up multiple locations could work, it would just take a lot of marketing and PR. I may pick up a PR minor, the classes double count in my major and I think that may be what I’m a little more interested in these days.”

Harry loved listening to Y/N talk about her aspirations. She really was smart, and he didn’t think she gave herself enough credit.

“Are you not interested in the law stuff anymore?”

“I don’t know…” He sighs. “It’s just such a big commitment, you know? It’s more school, and then you basically have to study and pass the bar where you want to live, and I have no idea where I want to live. I don’t know if I wanna stay in the U.K. forever. I’ve barely been able to explore America while I’ve been here, and there are parts of Europe I’d like to go to. I don’t know, maybe I’ll become a travel blogger or something.” He jokes.

“You laugh, but you’d hit it big.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well…” She blushes. “You’re insanely hot, Harry, so you have that going for you. People would follow you on a superficial level, and then there’s the fact that you’re smart and nice. You could talk about the country or town you’re in and say what you really liked and what you discovered.”

“Not a very sustainable job though.”

“Have you ever thought about becoming a teacher? You’re really good at explaining things. You never once made me feel stupid last semester.”

“I think I’m better one on one. I feel like whenever I have to give a presentation I just word vomit. I’m also not on an education track, so again, more school. I ‘d need my master’s, and you need to take whatever tests there are in the state you want to work in, and that’s if I wanna stay in America. I don’t even know what I’d want to teach…”

“You could find a job like in a tutoring office like we have here. It takes someone really important to run those types of offices and-“

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Um…do you mind if we change the subject a little?” His leg wouldn’t stop bouncing. “I know this stuff is important to talk through and figure out, but it’s making me anxious.”

“Oh!” She reaches across the table and puts her hand over his. “I’m so sorry, of course we can talk about something else, anything else.” She smiles. “What movie do you feel like watching later?”

They settled on The Devil Wears Prada. It was something they had both seen, so it didn’t matter if they paid attention or not. His arm was around her and they were lounging comfortably.

“I really like this dress you’re wearing.”

“Yeah? Thought you preferred me in sweats.” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“You could wear a paper sack and I’d like it on you.” This makes her burst out laughing and he smiles down at her.

They both adjust so they can lay down, and he pulls her body on top of his. She sucks on his bottom lip, and his hands slide down to her ass. His tongue drags of hers and she moans into his mouth.

“You’ll stay tonight?” He whispers. “Missed having you to hold onto at night.”

“Of course I’ll stay.” She stays. “No one else I’d rather have cuddles with.” She kisses on his jaw and moves to his neck.

“Leave a good one on me babe, mark me up.”

Y/N bites down decently hard on Harry’s neck and it makes him grit his teeth and squeeze at her harder, but god did it feel good. Truth be told one of his regular tutees flirted with him a lot, and even though he had mentioned Y/N over and over, she would still flirt with him. A nice new hickey may help her get the picture. Also, Harry just really liked getting them. He liked giving them too, but they just felt so fucking good.

“Did you have a nice break, Harry?”

“Yeah, Bri, thanks, did you?”

“Mhm, I got caught up on some things, but I’m definitely still struggling with Intro to Gen Psych…”

“Alright, well, let’s look at your notes from class.”

She reaches into her bag, and when she gets everything out, she notices Harry taking his jacket and scarf off. Her eyes bug out when she sees the giant welt on Harry’s neck. Now, normally he would want to be more professional, but at the end of the day, he was twenty and didn’t give a fuck.

“Everything alright?”

“Um…y-yeah, everything’s fine? Did you, um, go out over the weekend?”

“I did, yeah. Went to a party with some friends Saturday night. My girlfriend came back a couple days early too, that was nice.” He smiles and grabs her notes. “See, I think if you highlighted within your notes, like we’ve talked about, you would have an easier time finding things.”

“Right, um, sorry, Harry.”

“Don’t apologize to me.” He furrows his brows at her. “I already passed this class, it’s you who still needs to finish it. Tutoring can help a lot, but if you don’t take what we do here and apply it elsewhere, you’re not going to see any improvements.”

He was close to her, showing her what she should highlight, and it made her nervous, but in the best possible way. All of a sudden they hear some giggling, and it was a giggle Harry knew all too well. They both look up and see a good chunk of the hockey team. Many of the girls still got together to study like they would during the season.

“Oh, shit, is that Harry?!” Megan says. “Ow ow! Look at him on the clock.” She teases.

“Leave him alone.” Y/N swats a hand at her, and looks over to Harry, mouthing I’m sorry. He waves at them and gives them a half smile.

“Damn, Y//N, I would have tried to fuck my tutor too if it were him.” Another girl teases her and they all start laughing.

“Hey, uh,” Harry turns around in his chair and smirks, “we’re in a library, ladies.”

“Is that so?” Y/N struts over to him and looks at Bri. “Careful with him, he’s a little too good at his job.” She kisses Harry’s cheek and then goes off with the girls to the back of the library.

“Sorry about that, Bri.” Harry chuckles.

“So…that was your girlfriend?”

“Mhm.” He smiles proudly. “Now then,” he clears his throat, “let’s talk more about your note taking, shall we?”

It was hard enough saying goodbye to Ashley, Megan, and some of the other seniors on the team, but it was just about move out day, and Y/N cried every time she thought about not being able to just walk down a couple of streets to see Harry.

“We’ll see each other before you know it, and when we do we’ll have two weeks of perfect weather in Italy together.” He says as he holds her close to him in bed.

“I know, I’m just really sad.” She cries into his chest and he tries his best to soothe her.

“Please don’t cry, Y/N, you’re killing me.”

“I’m sorry.” She sniffles. “I don’t mean to be like this. The time difference just sucks, Harry.”

“I know.” He sighs.

“And you won’t even get to see me for my birthday.” It was in a couple of weeks.

“But we already sort of celebrated, remember the big party we had here last weekend?”

“How could I forget? You made me margaritas all night, and then fucked my brains out.” She chuckles and so does he. “Couldn’t walk right for two days.”

“Cause I know you like it like that.” He kisses the top of her head. “Look, I’m gonna miss you too. It’s not easy being away from your favorite person, but we’ll make it work. It’ll just make things better when we see each other again. I do have one favor, though?”

“What?” She looks up at him.

“You’ll have to leave lots of marks on me, really good ones, so that they’ll just barely have faded by the time I see you. The only thing is, my mum will be pissed if she sees my neck like that, you’ll have to be creative about where you put them.”

“Challenge accepted.” She gives him a devious smile and sinks down under his covers. Thank god Harry had an a/c in his room.

“What are you…oh!” He starts laughing when he feels her suck on his inner thigh, like he would normally do to her. “Why did you tell me this tickled so much?!” He rips the blanket away to look down at her.

“It doesn’t tickle when you do it to me.” She pouts up at him. She moves to kiss on his hip and then things feel less funny.

“Yeah, I like it when you do it there.”

She kisses up his chest and sucks a nice, dark mark on one of his pecs and then smiles up at him. Her eyes start to water again and she hides her face in his neck.

“What happened?”

“We’re not going to be able to do this whenever we want soon, and it just…” She cries into him again.

“Baby.” He coos. “Let’s just enjoy right now, yeah?” He rubs her back. “Want me to make love to you? Be all sweet and slow?”

“Mhm.” She says, muffled from the way she’s pressing further into him.

“Alright.” He rolls them both over and runs his fingers over her folds. Yes, they were both already naked.

He slides his middle finger inside her slowly, working his way in and out, sucking on her nipple as he does so. This helps her to calm down just like he was hoping. He sucks his finger into his mouth when he’s done and then rubs his hard dick against her clit. She groans and then he slips inside. He hides his face in her neck so he can kiss on her while he rocks in and out. They both just wanted to be as close as possible right now.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” He moves to look at her and she puts her hands on his shoulders.

“When you get close, will you please come inside me?” She looks so innocent right now.

“If I say yes will you promise to tell me when you get your period?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, baby, I’ll come inside you when the time comes.”

She pulls his face down to hers to kiss him. Things are slow and sloppy and just perfect. He rubs her clit to help her along and she cries out as she comes. She nearly comes again when she feels him fill her up. It was the first time he had ever come inside her without a condom, and it felt so fucking good.

“I love you so much.” He says to her as he pulls out.

“I love you too.” She clamps her legs together to try not to make a mess on his bed, and she stands up. She throws on one of his shirts before heading to the bathroom.

They snuggle all night, and most of the morning. Harry helps her pack up her apartment, and he waits with her for Angie to come pick her up. It was a really difficult goodbye, but Harry tried to stay strong for the both of them. Of course the second the car pulled away he started crying. He calmed himself down, though. They would call, text, and FaceTime. Thank god she was coming to Italy.

“Shit.” Y/N says to herself.

“What?” Julie asks coming into her room.

“According to my pills, I’m going to have my period when I’m in Italy.” She groans.

“So?”

“So?! I’m gonna be swimming and stuff.”

“Just use a tampon.”

“I’m going to be with mostly boys, and I have zero idea if it’s a fancy boat with a bathroom on it. I’ll only have it a few days, but still. Fuck, and I’ll probably have it right when I first see Harry.”

“Do you guys not…do it when you have your period?”

“Don’t be gross.”

“It’s a valid question!”

“We did, like, once in the shower, but it sort of hurts, so it I didn’t like it and we didn’t do it again.” She sighs. “I miss him so much, I don’t think I’ll care when I finally see him.”

“Show me the new bathing suits you got.”

“Hey.” Cooper comes into the room as well and just stands there, munching on some chips.

“What?” Y/N asks.

“M’bored.”

“Wanna look at my new bathing suits?”

“Alright, yeah.”

“You have WhatsApp?”

“Already downloaded.”

“And you’ll text me updates, and you will take a picture of you and Harry together so I know you’re really with him?”

“Yes, mum! Please, I need to go get through security. I love you, and I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”

“I love you too, have a great time.”

Y/N gets through security, and texts Harry and her mom updates. She had the window seat so she was able to get comfortable for her long flight. She wanted to look cute and refreshed, so she gets up to change in the bathroom of the plane. She puts on a pair of high-waist jean shorts, and a black crop top. Her hair is down, but she ties a bandana he had given to her in it, and touched up her makeup. She was feeling really good, despite being in the middle of her period. At least it would end in a day or so.

The flight lands on time, and Y/N texts Harry and her mom that she’s landed. She gets her backpack on, and manages to follow the signs to baggage. Luckily there were a lot of signs in English. Harry had “tutored” her a bit in Italian this summer, so she wasn’t totally lost. As she approaches baggage she squints when she sees three guys who look very familiar.

“Oi! There she is!” Louis says and Harry turns around, beaming at Y/N.

She runs towards him and jumps into his arms, wrapping all of her limbs around him. He looked so fucking good in his little shorts and t-shirt and tanned skin. Their lips collide and they almost forget their in the airport.

“I hate to break this up, but which bags are yours, pet?” Niall asks.

“Oh! The floral ones!” She points to them as they come off the belt. Harry sets her down and he grabs her bags. She gives Niall and Louis a hug as well. “Now, if we let you two sit in the back of the car together, do you promise to hold off on the groping?” He teases them as they walk out to the parked cars.

“Think I can behave myself for a bit, yeah, Y/N?”

“I’ll do my best.” She giggles. “How far away are we form the house?”

“Bout an hour, not too far.” Harry says. “We’re having dinner on the boat tonight, you’ll love it. Fresh steamers, you like those, right?”

“Love ‘em.” She smiles.

He puts his arm around her and keeps her close as Louis drives back to the house. She switches her gaze from Harry to out the window, unsure of what she preferred to soak up in the moment. Harry had a lovely tan, his hair was a tad shorter, but not by much, and he had definitely been trying to grow out his scruff. He was handsome as ever.

“You look really cute.” He whispers in her ear and it sends a shiver up her spine. “Is that the bandana I gave you?”

“Mhm.” She smiles up at him. “I wear it all the time at work.”

“Good, it suits you.”

They pull up to the house in what feels like no time at all, and Y/N’s jaw drops as she gets out of the car. It was beautiful, and private. There was a path to a private dock where the boat was, and there were a couple of other guys outside.

“I’m just gonna show Y/N to our room, and then we’ll come down for dinner.” Harry tells Niall and Louis as they make their way to the boat.

“Our room, huh?” Y/N smirks up at Harry as he carries her bags in. He stops short and looks at her.

“Shit, uh, did…fuck, did you not want to stay with me? I think we can-“

“Harry!” She laughs. “Jesus, I was kidding, why would I come all this way and not sleep in a bed with you?”

“I…don’t do that.” He side eyes her as they both go inside. She shakes her head at.

“Wow…even more beautiful on the inside.” She looks around.

He hums his response and gestures to follow him upstairs. There were a lot of bedrooms, both on the main level and second level of the home. Harry was the only one to bring a date this summer, so his friends granted him the privilege of the bedroom with the en suite bath.

“Here we are, love.” He puts her bags down and closes the door behind them. He lets her look around for a moment. She peeps her head into the bathroom and then she smiles at him.

“This is amazing. I can’t believe I’m really here.

“Me neither.” He cups her jaw and kisses her. She wraps her arms around his waist as he licks into her mouth. “Missed you, baby.”

“Missed you too.” He bites down on her bottom lip, and his hands start to slide farther south, but she stops him. “We can’t.”

“Dinner can wait.”

“No, I mean…I need two more days.”

“What?”

“I have my period, but it should be done soon. I’m sorry…”

“It’s alright.” He sighs. “Better to have it now than later when we’re camping, right?”

“Mhm.” She smiles and kisses him again.

“Besides, we’ve got that nice big shower.” He winks at her, and then leads her out of the bedroom.

He keeps his hand on the small of her back as they walk down the dock to the boat. She could already smell the seafood.

“Shit!” She stops short. “We have to take a selfie to send to my mom, she wanted proof I wasn’t kidnapped.”

“Alright.” He chuckles. She takes her phone out to snap the quick photo, and then they continue onto the boat. “Oi! Can I get everyone’s attention, thank you.” All of the boys look at Harry and Y/N. “Clark, Adam, Ben, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

“Hi.” She says shyly.

“Don’t look like a hockey player to me.” Ben says, jokingly. “Nice to meet you, finally.” He extends his hand and she shakes it.

“Don’t be fooled, she can really pack a punch.” Harry says, sitting down.

“It’s great to meet you, Y/N.” Adam says, giving her a hug. “Hope you don’t mind being with a bunch of guys for the next couple of weeks.”

“It’s not a problem.” She smiles.

“Harry’s told us a lot about you.” Clark says, shaking her hand. “Nice to actually see you in person. Harry’s always sending us pictures of you.”

Y/N turns to look at Harry, giving him a face.

“All tasteful, I promise. Come here.” He pulls her to sit on his lap. “How’s dinner coming along?”

“The steamers have just about popped.” Adam says. “We’ve also got crab legs. Do you like all that, Y/N?”

“Yeah, I love seafood, thank you.”

“Alright, now that we don’t need to drive anywhere else,” Niall starts. “can we get to drinking?”

“Read my mind.” Ben says, getting up to pull the cooler of beer over. “Do you like beer, Y/N? We have other drinks if you don’t.”

“Beer’s great, thanks.” She smiles and leans forward to grab one for her and Harry. “I guess this is my first legal drink, that’s sorta cool.”

“That’s right! You don’t have to second guess a thing here.” Harry says, cracking his beer open. They all clink their cans together and take a sip.

Adam brings the pig pot of steamers up from below deck, and Clark brings out the crab legs and butter. Louis helps with the cocktail sauce and plates. Everyone takes what they want and dig in.

“Mm, these are delicious.” Y/N says. “Thanks so much for making all this.”

“We thought your arrival would be the perfect night to do this, so thank you.” Adam says.

“So, you three have known Harry since high school?”

“Well, we call it secondary school.” Ben says. “But yeah, think you and Adam have known each other the longest though.” Harry nods his head. “We became pretty good mates after a school camping trip.”

“I think we started coming here when we were sixteen?” Clark looks at Adam.

“I’d say so, yeah. My dad’s had this house a while. I think sixteen is when he trusted us enough to come here a lone. Lotta good summers here.”

“How did you two meet again? You had a class together?” Ben asks.

“Nope, she needed a tutor.” Harry says.

“Mhm, and lucky me, I got paired up with the most studious one of them all.”

“H really is a bit serious, isn’t he?” Clark teases.

“Gotta be serious to get good grades.”

“So, how did Harry get all these tattoos, I’m not seeing many on you.” She says to three of them.

“That would be me, love.” Louis says. “You didn’t get them all with me, but I feel like freshman year we were constantly driving out to the tattoo shop.”

“Once I got one I couldn’t stop.” Harry says. “I went with these guys to get a few more, the ones on my arms. My mum was pissed.”

“Didn’t you say she nearly fainted when she saw the butterfly?” Clark asks with a laugh.

“Yeah, that’s why I got so many on my stomach in the first place so she wouldn’t see, but it was inevitable.” He shrugs. “Think I’m due for a new one while we’re here, I’d say.” He looks at his right arm. “Not sure where though.” He laughs.

“You should get a mate for your mermaid.” Niall jokes.

“She’s an independent woman, she’s all set.”

Everyone laughs and continues to enjoy their food. They all help clean up and enjoy more drinks by the fire pit after the sun goes down fully. Y/N was having difficulty staying awake. She was up early, had that long flight, and she really just wanted to shower and go to bed.

“Would you care if I went in?” She says to him. “Think I’m ready to for a shower, and I wanna unpack a bit.”

“Sure! Yeah, I’ll head in with you in a minute.”

“Okay.” She stands up. “Night everyone, thanks for a great first say.” She smiles and then heads inside.

“She’s really nice, H.” Adam says. “I like her a lot already.”

“Thanks.” Harry smiles. “I like her a lot too.” He stands up and heads up to their shared bedroom.

“You could have stayed outside if you wanted, I’m just getting my things settled.”

“I know…I thought you might need help with the shower.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“I probably could have figure it out.” She smirks at him.

“Well, maybe I need a shower too. Been outside all day, after all.” He steps closer to her and she can feel her cheeks heating up.

“Harry…I…I want to, but…” She bites her bottom lip. “Last time we tried to do it on my period it really hurt, and I didn’t like it as much as I may have led on.”

“You didn’t fake it did you?”

“No! I came, but…it just wasn’t super comfortable. I really wanna be close with you, I just need a couple more days, and then you can pound me into the mattress for all I care.” Harry chuckles at her statement and he nods.

“Well, can we still shower together without the funny business? I just really missed you.”

“Yeah, just give me a minute in there alone, you know the drill.”

He nods and watches her walk into the en suite with her toiletry bag. She gets the water going, and steps in, opting to get her hair wet to give it a good wash. She calls for him once she feels secure enough, and he comes in right away. They look at each other for a moment, and then he crashes his mouth to hers, pushing her against the wall. Her hands fly to his hair and she moans into his mouth at the feeling of his hard dick pressed against her hip. His tongue glides against her as he gropes her breast with one hand and her ass with the other. He detaches his lips from hers to get some air, and immediately starts sucking on her neck.

“Th-thought you said no funny business.” She manages to get out.

“I don’t find any of this funny, do you?” He says lowly into her ear.

“No.” She breathes and he continues his attack on her neck.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna do anything you don’t wanna do.” He pulls away from her slightly. “I just couldn’t help myself when I walked in here, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She pulls him back, pressing their fronts together. “I really missed you too.”

After some more passionate kisses, they clean themselves up and get out of the shower. Harry leaves her so she has some privacy putting her underwear on. She runs the blow dryer through her quickly so it’s not sopping wet before coming to bed. She throws on a large t-shirt, and Harry can’t help but smile as he watches his cute girlfriend crawl into the large bed with him.

“So, are you not able to swim? We were hoping to take the boat out tomorrow.”

“Does the boat have a bathroom?”

“It does! It’s small, but functional.”

“Then I can definitely go swimming.” She smiles and cozies up to him. She sighs happily. “I really missed this.”

“Me too.” He looks down at her. “I think I sleep better when you’re next to me.”

She pouts up at him and slots her mouth over his. It felt so good to just be able to kiss and touch how they pleased. FaceTiming was great and all, but always left them with a sense of wanting and yearning. The physical touch was something they both craved from the other.

The morning sun creeps into the bedroom, causing Y/N’s eyes to flutter open. She feels like she’s in a dream, but things become real when she feels Harry’s arms around her and his pelvis pressing into her ass. She thinks to maybe take care of him, offer up a hand job or something, but before she can he’s peppering kisses to the back of her neck and then getting out of bed.

“Ready to start the day?” He yawns. “We gotta pack up everything we wanna eat for the day. There’s a mini kitchen below deck, which is nice. I stalked up on some things I know you like from the store.”

“Thank you.” She smiles as he walks into the bathroom. Y/N gets up and stretches a bit. She scowls when she feels a cramp roll through her lower body. She grabs her pills and swallows. She was on the first week of her new pack. “One more day and you’re gone.” She says to herself.

“Are you talking to your period?” Harry chuckles as he comes out of the bathroom.

“Maybe.” She raises an eyebrow at him. “Just started my new pack of pills, should definitely be over by tomorrow.”

“No worries.” He kisses her cheek and goes into the drawer for his swim trunks and a white t-shirt.

“Should I pack other clothes to change into?”

“Nah, we’ll come back here and get cleaned up. I think we’re gonnna go to a bar tonight, should be fun.”

Y/N nods and searches for one of her new bathing suits. She snatches and goes into the bathroom. She hated using tampons, especially this late in her period because things just felt uncomfortably dry, but it wasn’t like she could wear a pad with her bottoms, so this is what she needs to do. Once that’s all situated, she puts her hair up into a messy bun, and slides her bottoms on. They were navy blue, not super high waist, but not super low cut either, mid-rise. She grabs her top, and struggles with getting the back tied. It was a really cute floral string top that matched perfectly with the bottoms.

“Har?” She calls from the bathroom.

“Yeah?” He peeps his head in carefully.

“Could you tie the back of this for me please?”

“Um…sure.” He swallows as he steps closer to her and ties the back of the top. “Is that good?”

She looks in the mirror and adjusts her breasts.

“Yeah, should be alright, thank you.”

“That’s a really nice bathing suit.”

“Thanks.” She smiles. “I just got it, I wanted to have some cute ones for the trip.” Her breasts giggle as she lets them go, and he can’t help but watch.

“Thought you might wear a one piece or something.” He says as he follows her out of the bathroom.

“I can’t really wear those, my torso is long, and they make them way too high cut, it’s not cute on me.” She puts on a pair of jean shorts and a tank top over her bathing suit and smiles at him. “You’ve got sunscreen and all that?”

“Yeah.”

Harry knew he didn’t need to worry about Louis, Niall, or Adam really looking at Y/N. It was Ben and Clark. As good of friends as they were, and they were just as respectful as Harry was, he knew they would still look and gawk at her. He had zero control over it, and that’s the part he hated.

The kitchen smells like fresh coffee, and Harry can hear Y/N giggling as Ben pours her a cup and gives her some creamer. Here we go, Harry thinks to himself.

“Here, Harry.” Louis says, handing him a cup of black coffee.

“Thanks.” He smiles and takes it from him.

“Sleep well, Y/N?” Clark asks.

“Better than I have in weeks, yeah.” She looks at Harry and he looks at her.

“Alrighty then.” Adam says. “Well, I’ve got most of the coolers packed, got all the sunscreen we could need. I figure we could grill on the boat for lunch later. Sound good with everyone?” Everyone hums in agreement. “Perfect, let’s head out.”

Y/N puts her sunglasses on and goes outside with everyone. She sits down on the boat and watches all the boys while they work to get going. It was quite a sight to see Harry maneuvering the different ropes. Adam drives the boat out, and Harry plops down next to Y/N.

“He’s gonna take us out to this sand bar where other boats anchor. It’s a lot of fun, just swimming around, doing nothing. You can lay out on the other end too, work on your tan.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing?”

“Mhm.” He smiles. “I love sitting out in the sun.”

“Me too. It’s been great working at the bar because I can go to the beach during the day with my friends and stuff, and then just go in at night.”

“How’s the gang doing?”

“Oh, they’re great. Max has a girlfriend, and she’s really nice. She came to visit for a weekend to meet all of us.”

Harry felt slightly relieved knowing that Max was seeing someone. He never brought his uneasiness about him to Y/N, and right now he was especially glad he didn’t.

“That’s nice.” He kisses her cheek.

Once the boat is anchored at the sandbar, Y/N takes her cover up off along with the boys. Having basically grown up in a locker room, Y/N wasn’t really nervous to be so exposed around friends. If they hadn’t seen a boob or a butt cheek by now then that was on them. She takes a few photos on her phone. The view was incredible, and she felt so lucky to be there. Harry comes up from behind her and gives her a squeeze.

“Would you help me with the sunscreen?” He asks.

“Of course!” She sprays it all over him and rubs it in on his back and shoulders. “Do me?”

He nods and does the same for her, making sure to get under her straps so she wouldn’t be splotchy. They hear a few splashes. Louis, Niall, and Clark all jumping in.

“The water’s so warm!” Niall shouts to everyone still aboard.

“I’m not quite ready to go in yet.” Y/N whispers to Harry.

“You don’t have to…here.” He grabs a towel from a bag. “Lay out on this, I’m just gonna go in for a quick dip and then I’ll join you.” He smiles and kisses the tip of her nose.

“M’surprised she’s not right in here with you.” Louis says as Harry swims over to them.

“She…uh…well, she’s got her period.” He whispers. “So I think she’s trying to hold off on going in for a bit.”

“Ah, say no more.” Louis says.

“That’s gotta be so annoying.” Niall says. “Did it just start?”

“No, she said it should end tomorrow, so she just needs to tough it out today.”

“We should have gone to the shops then…” Louis says.

“It’s alright, she can still swim, she just doesn’t want to have to deal with, uh, changing yet I think.”

“Changing what?” Clark asks.

“Her…you know.” Harry says, blushing. “Ugh, can we not talk about this actually?”

“Talk about what?” Ben asks as he swims towards them.

“Nothing.” Harry, Niall, and Louis all say at the same time.

They all hear Y/N laughing from the boat. Adam is sitting next to her on the deck.

“Look, Adam has someone to have girl talk with, this’ll be perfect.” Ben says.

“Oi.” Harry splashes him. “Don’t say shit like that. Just because he’s gay doesn’t mean he’s girly. We all paint our nails and wear jewelry for Christ’s sake, we’re not all exactly following gender norms here.”

“Okay, okay, fuck.” Ben laughs and splashes Harry back.

After his quick dip, Harry joins Y/N on the deck to lay out. She looked perfect to him. Laying on her stomach, he could see the cute curve of her bum. He lays down on a towel next to her, and boops her nose as she turns to look at him.

“How was the water?”

“Nice and warm, ready whenever you are.”

“Sun feels good.” She yawns.

“Good.” He smiles at her. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Me too.”

Y/N ends up falling asleep for a bit, which Harry thinks is the cutest thing in the world. He nudges her awake, though, and hands her a bottle of water. She shits up and happily takes it.

“Think I’m ready to go in now, I’m hot.”

“Okay.”

He leads her down to where the latter is, and helps her in by giving her a piggy back ride. She warned him that she wasn’t the strongest swimmer before the trip. Luckily, she could easily stand about belly button deep.

“Y/N, catch!” Niall tosses her a tennis ball, and she catches it.

Adam was hanging out on a float nearby with Ben, and Clark was talking with Louis about some soccer player. Y/N, Harry, and Niall get into a game of catch with the tennis ball. Once noon hits, someone has the brilliant idea to start drinking. Y/N goes up on deck with Harry and she pulls him aside.

“Would you come to the bathroom with me?” She whispers as she grabs her beach bag.

“Yeah.”

He leads her below deck and shows her the bathroom. She asks him to just wait outside and guard the door while she’s in there. He hears her grunt painfully before hearing the sink. She comes out with sigh.

“Alright?”

“Yeah…it just…ugh, it’s just annoying. It’s fine.” She takes a moment to look around. “It’s like a little apartment down here, it’s nice.”

“Yeah, the couch turns into a pull out, it’s pretty cool. We’ve all slept out on the boat before. One summer when there was a lot of us someone just used it as a spare room.”

“Who wants vodka?” Adam asks.

“Me!” Y/N says as her and Harry come back up. “Any soda or anything to go with it?”

“Cranberry juice.” Harry says with a grin and Y/N smiles wider.

Ben fires up the grill while everyone starts to drink. It was a delicious lunch that Y/N was grateful for. Everyone was getting a little tipsy, which resulted in Harry (and others) doing a backflip off the deck and into the water. Y/N had no idea Harry would even do that. He must really be letting loose.

Once everyone sobered up a bit, Adam drives the boat back to the house. It was the perfect day in the sun, but Y/N couldn’t wait to shower off all the sunscreen.

“Do you guys wanna, like, chill for a little while? I could use a nap, honestly.” Clark says. “We won’t be heading to the club until midnight so I’d rather sleep and then have a late dinner.”

“Agreed.” Niall says. “I’m exhausted.”

“Midnight?” Y/N says to Harry as they go up to their room.

“Yeah, things are open later here so we go out later. We’ll pregame and stuff like normal, but it’s sort of lame to be the first ones at a club.”

“Right.” She chuckles. “Well, I am in desperate need of a shower.”

“Alright, I suppose I’ll be a gentleman and let you go first.” He rolls his eyes playfully.

“You can come in with me.”

“If I do that I’m gonna need to fuck you, Y/N.”

“Oh.”

“You’ve looked so sexy all day.” He plays with the strap on the top of her bathing suit. “Don’t have much self-control left.”

“I’ll just, um, go in alone then.” She swallows.

She really wanted to have sex with Harry, but it just wasn’t time yet. She takes a quick shower, and he follows in shortly after her. She didn’t seem to be bleeding anymore, but she put a pad on anyways and a large t-shirt. She sinks into the pillows on the bed and waits for Harry.

“Think I need a nap too.” He yawns. “Swimming and day drinking really tires you out.”

“Yeah.” She laughs and opens her arms for him. He rests his head on her chest and gets comfy.

“This is the best.”

“Absolutely.” She plays with his damp hair and he feels like he’s going to melt into her.

“Oh!” He sits up abruptly and looks at her. “I had an epiphany the other night with the guys.”

“About what?”

“What I might like to do after graduation. We were sitting smoking and it just came to me.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say you were smoking?” She sits up with a surprised look on her face.

“I don’t do it during the school year because sometimes I wig out, but I was fine the other night. Anyways, do you wanna hear what I wanna do?”

“Of course, lay it on me.”

“Human Resources.”

“What about it?”

“That’s what I want to do, Y/N! I all of these ethics classes would really prepare me for that field, and I could literally work anywhere. I’d probably have to start out doing some customer service work and then slowly work my way up, but I think I could be good at it.”

“You wanna deal with sexual harassment stuff?”

“That’s not the only thing that HR reps do, there’s payroll, workplace compliance with dress code and safety. I’d be like Toby from The Office, only cool.”

Y/N smiles and giggle for a moment.

“Well, you’re clearly excited about it, so I think it’s great. Course, I think you’d be good at anything you set your mind to.”

“Thanks, babe. I know it sounds like a boring job, but I don’t think it has to be. Plus, you can make a fuck ton of money.”

“Is that the most important thing to you?”

“No, I suppose being happy is, but a decent salary would be nice too.”

“You’d probably have to wear a suit every day.” She bites her bottom lip.

“Mhm, probably.”

“Sexiest HR rep in the history of HR reps.”

He smiles as he leans in to kiss her. She pulls him on top of her, but keeps her legs closed. After a quick make out session, they decide just to cuddle and snooze for a bit. Harry wakes up to a lack of warmth. He sits up when he doesn’t feel Y/N next to him. She comes out of the bathroom and looks at him.

“What time is it?” He knuckles at his eyes.

“A little after six. What do you think we’re doing for dinner?”

“Ben said he’d make fresh pasta.” Harry yawns and stretches. “It’s his turn to cook.” He gives her a kiss on the cheek before looking for some clothes.

“What should I wear tonight? I have this cute red dress…” She pulls it out of the closet and his eyes grow wide. He puts his glasses on so he can see better.

“That’s…wow, yeah, that’ll look great on you.”

“I really like the cut out on the front. I’ll just put some shorts and a t-shirt on for now. No use in getting ready yet.”

“Right.”

Harry just throws on a pair of shorts and looks at her.

“Must be nice to just walk around shirtless all the time. Wish I could do the same.”

“Well, you could, but I wouldn’t feel terribly comfortable with all of the guys ogling you.” He smirks and she nudges him out of the room.

“Something smells good!” She says as she sees Ben over the stove. “You really made fresh pasta?”

“Yup, and meatballs. Mum’s recipe.”

Y/N was amazed at seeing so many guys just being domestic. Her freshman year of college she had made friends with a few guys on the men’s hockey team and their apartment was always gross. They never did their laundry and always ordered takeout. This was one of the things Y/N really liked about Harry. He was clean and respectful, and it was nice to see he surrounded himself with similar people.

“Oh my fucking god.” She moans as she takes a bit of the food. “That’s delicious.”

“Thanks.” Ben beams. “Hear that, mate, she likes my cooking.”

“Don’t get too cocky, she likes mine plenty, right?” Harry says to her.

“Of course, babe.”

“Babe.” Adam and Clark say together lovingly.

“Enough teasing.” Harry points his knife at them. “Get enough of it from these two at school.”

“Please, we hardly tease you.” Louis scoffs.

“You did when we first started going out, it was so annoying.” Harry rolls his eyes.

“You teased him?” Y/N looks at Louis and Niall. “Not very nice boys.” She shakes her head as she takes another bite.

“It was all in good fun.” Niall says.

After cleaning up dinner, the drinks come back out and everyone does shots of tequila. This was what Y/N had been missing. Just hanging out with people her own age without any parents around.

“Wait, so I need to ask.” Clark starts. “Why hockey?”

“I was too aggressive for soccer and lacrosse. No padding.” She takes another shot and sucks on a lime.

“Jesus.” Adam says. “Why were you so aggressive?”

“I had a lot of, um, pent up anger from my parent’s split…we had to see, um, well it was suggested to me that I try hockey. I already knew how to skate, so it wasn’t difficult for me to pick up.”

“She’s brilliant on the ice.” Harry says, putting an arm around her. “I bet you’ll be captain senior year.”

“Do you have siblings, do they play sports?” Ben asks.

“My younger sister does theater, she’s going to this school…um…AMDA in New York this fall, I’m really excited for her, she’s very talented. My little brother plays hockey too…for the same reasons. At least the boys get to hit each other.” She scoffs. “If there had been a female football league I think I would have done that, but it didn’t exist so hockey it was. Besides, I really do just love it. My mom was able to send me to hockey camp a couple times, and I got to meet some nice people that I still stay in touch with. It’s just a great sport.”

Pregaming was good, but it was getting to be time to change. Y/N takes her hair out of its bun and shakes it out. She had some nice beach waves from earlier. She touches up her makeup, and slips into her dress. It was tight, red, and had a cutout just below her breasts. It wasn’t something she wore often, but she thought a club in Italy would be a perfect occasion. She slips her white tennis shoes on, ever the practical person. Harry feels the wind get knocked out of him when she steps out of the bathroom.

He didn’t look too shabby himself. A white, silk short-sleeve shirt with the first few buttons undone, and a pair of black shorts. He looks her up and down after putting his contacts in.

“Jesus.”

“Isn’t it cute?” She spins around for him.

“Very.” He puts his hands on her hips. “Do we need to leave?”

“Harry.” She giggles. “We can get frisky when we get back.”

“Does that mean-“

“Mhm.” She winks at him.

The boys were all dressed and ready, and a few paid some compliments to Y/N. Harry keeps his arm around her as they walk to the downtown area. They’re able to get into the club with ease, and they all go up to the bar. The bartender gives Y/N’s hers on the house and she smiles.

The music was good, they all dance as a group, but Harry dances behind Y/N with his hands on her hips, which she didn’t mind one bit. His friends had seen him dance with plenty of girls, it wasn’t awkward or anything. They all drank a fuck ton as the night went on. Y/N was loving having her dance partner back. Her head was rolled back onto Harry’s chest while they grind together. He turns her around and pulls her close so he can kiss her, tongue immediately going into her mouth. She wraps her arms around his neck and tugs him as close as they could possibly be. This kiss is hot and forceful. Her fingers lace through his hair.

“Fuck.” He breathes. “Need to get you out of here.” He nearly growls. Y/N nods her head, too frazzled to speak.

Harry finds Adam and lets him know they’re leaving. They both walk quickly, hand in hand, out of the club. The walk back to the house felt like any other time they left a party to go get busy. They giggle and stop to steal kisses until they get to where they need to be. He gets her inside and lifts her over his shoulder.

“Harry!” She squeals.

“Shh, some of the boys could have brought people back.” He gives her bum a little smack as he carries her up the stairs. She laughs, but does as he says to try to stay quiet.

He gets them both on the bed, and she straddles him immediately, her hair falling into her face as she sucks on his bottom lip. He helps move it out of the way, and this his hand slide down her body to grope and squeeze at her ass. She rocks her lips against his, and at this point it just feels torturous for them both. He grabs her hips and gets her on her back.

“You’re really all good?”

“Mhm.”

He lifts the hem of her dress and bunches it up by her hips. His mouth falls open when he sees the red thong she had paired with the dress.

“You’re the devil.” He says, kissing her lips as he pets over her. “You’re good, you’re okay with this?”

“Yes, so okay with it, please.” She nearly whines.

He moves the thin material to the side, and slides two of his fingers inside her. They swallow each other’s moans. He uses his other hand to yank her breasts out of the top of her dress, something she wasn’t expecting, and then he sucks on one of her nipples while he fingers her. Her back arches when his fingers curl up against her g-spot.

“There we are.” He smirks. “Like that, baby girl?”

“Yeah, just like that, Harry.” Her head rolls back into the pillow. “Oh my god, oh my fucking god.” She moans.

“That’s it, let it all out for me.”

He was knuckle deep, and she couldn’t control any of the noises leaving her mouth. She cries out when she comes to her release. He gives her moment before pulling his fingers out. She looks up at him.

“Get your clothes off, now.” She demands.

“Yes ma’am.” He says, saluting her and getting up.

She helps him get his shirt off, attaching her lips to his stomach and sucking on his special spots. His hips buck forward. He tugs her dress off, and his pants drop to the ground at the same time. She wiggles out of her thong, and Harry rids himself of his boxers.

“Really wanna feel you, can we do that?” She pouts at him.

“Yeah.”

She pins him down and straddles him, lining herself up with him and sinking down. They both let out throaty moans at the contact.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He groans as he rocks her back and forth on him.

“Been too long without you.” She starts bouncing up and down on him slowly, and he rubs her clit. “Fuck, Harry.” She squeezes around him.

“Come as many times as you want, don’t hold back.” He says, rubbing her faster.

Her body falls on his and she cries out into his neck. He helps her move back and forth on him as she comes to. She knew she was overly sensitive from having not been touched by him in two months. He looks at her and opens his mouth. Her eyebrows raise, but then she remembers what he wants her to do. She wells up some spit and lets it drip slowly from her tongue to his. He swallows it and smiles up at her. A hand goes to the back of her head, and he yanks her face down to his so he can kiss her. Their tongue move around each other as he thrusts up into her.

“Need it from behind.” He says against her mouth.

She gets off him and gets in position for him. He gives her a gentle smack before sliding back in. His hands grip at her hips as he thrusts in and out.

“Gonna fuck you every day for the next two weeks, as many times as you want. You just say the word, and it’ll be just like this.”

“Fuck, Harry.” His words alone were going to make her lose it again.

“Don’t care where we are, if you want my cock, my mouth, my fingers, you’ve got it.”

She moans out as she comes again, and he loves the way she tightens around him, but he’s trying to hold on a little longer. He hadn’t fucked her in so long, and even though he knew they could do it again, he just wanted to enjoy the initial moment a little longer. He pulls out of her and gets her on her back, and in he goes once against. He takes her hands and pins them on either side of her head. He kisses her as he rocks in and out.

“H-Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“Oh, baby, I love you too.” He kisses her.

Things had turned from rushed and frantic to loving and sweet. She rocks her hips along with his, and it feels amazing. He slows down the pace to really just take her all in.

“Love you so much.” He whispers in her ear. He picks up the pace a little, and he can feel himself getting closer.

“Please, come inside me, Harry.” She whimpers. “Wanna feel all of you.”

He bites down on her neck while he comes and she moans out at the feeling of him filling her up. He kisses her cheeks and nips at her lips before slowly pulling out. She gasps at the loss of him at first. She gets up to use the bathroom quickly, and then gets into bed with him. He tugs her to lay fully on top of him. She nuzzles into his chest, leaving kisses every few moments. He rubs her back and moves some hair away from her face so she’ll look up at him. He opens his mouth to say something, but he feels good about the comfortable silence. He opts to just kiss her forehead instead. They both sigh with happiness.

As they fell asleep in each other’s arms, neither had a care in the world. They both knew this was the only time in their lives that they could be so carefree, and they weren’t going to waste it or worry. They wanted to be with each other right now, and that was good enough for the both of them.

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles series #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #college!harry #the tutor #tutor!harry #tutorry #hockeyplayer!y/n #college au #harry styles au

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astralaffairs · 4 years

Text

voltaire to versace 02 | thomas jefferson

title: voltaire to versace 02

pairing: professor!thomas jefferson x reader

words: 8.7k

warnings: honestly not much. sex jokes n references, dolley simping for james, broke college student meals

desc: from francis bacon to foucault, descartes to dante, your political philosophy seminar doesn’t promise to be a blowout — and yet, one mysterious stranger and a risqué evening later, your burberry-clad professor gives you the feeling it won’t be quite the snoozefest you’d expected.

tags: @lunariasilver @tinywhim @nyxie75 @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @checkurwindow @katierpblogg — let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future parts!

"Dolley, holy shit; please tell me you're already home." Y/N's words were breathless as she hurried across the quad, muttering under her breath into her phone. She'd darted out of her lecture hall the moment they'd been dismissed, having no desire to stick around for the confrontation she knew was inevitable.

"I'm just getting out of class, dear," Dolley responded, but when she continued, her words were teasing. "What sort of trouble did you manage to get yourself into while I was gone?"

"I cannot begin to explain." Y/N let out a huff, glancing over her shoulder and ducking her head as she whispered, "but it's not good."

"Oh, good lord, Y/N; I was joking." She could hear the genuine worry begin to creep into Dolley's voice and couldn't help but wince.

"Yeah, I wish I was, too." She chalked the subsequent rush of static through the line up to Dolley's sigh. "Where are you right now? Can I meet you somewhere?"

"Want to go to dinner?"

"Too broke for that."

"Packaged ramen from the drugstore on the east side of campus?"

"Now you're speaking my language." Y/N grinned, and she could only picture Dolley rolling her eyes from wherever she was. "I'll be there in a few."

"You'd better. I can't wait much longer to hear what sort of nonsense you've been up to."

"You slept with a professor?!"

"Shh, Doll; not so loud," Y/N hissed, pulling her back into the soda aisle and frantically checking for any prurient eavesdroppers. Her voice was low when she added, "It was the guy at the bar last night. I had no idea he was a professor here."

Dolley let out a dry, disbelieving laugh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "This is... a mess."

"You're telling me."

"So, what's the plan going to be?"

When Dolley folded her arms, raising an amused eyebrow (a little too amused, in Y/N's humble opinion), but Y/N furrowed her brow. "What d'you mean, 'what's the plan?'"

"What are you going to do the next time you run into him?" Dolley asked. There was a pause; Y/N hadn't thought that far. "You don't really think you can make it through the semester ignoring this, do you?"

"I... Maybe? I don't know!" Y/N let out a frustrated huff. "That's what I need you to help me figure out. What else are you here for?"

"Oh, you make an excellent point," Dolley sighed. "All I do is pay half the rent and help you get laid at bars downtown."

Y/N scowled. "You helped me get laid by a professor. Just help me."

"Mmh, I don't think I heard a 'please' in there."

"Please, Dolley, my white knight to whom I owe my life," she pleaded, clutching her roommates arm and sighing wistfully. Dolley's lips were pressed into a line, but that didn't stop her smile from showing through. "I would be nothing without you; just please, do me this one final favor."

"Alright, alright," she conceded with a huff, shaking free from Y/N's grip. "Drama queen."

Y/N shrugged shamelessly. "I bring excitement into your life. Don't be ungrateful."

"Whatever you say, dear." The defeat in her words made Y/N grin. "So back to your excitement, then."

"I'm so lost," Y/N groaned, finally emerging from the soda aisle with shoulders slumped in defeat. "If the sex hadn't been so good, I'd probably just pretend it never happened."

Dolley creased her brow. "Was it really that good?"

Y/N turned to her with a serious demeanor, a hand on her shoulder as she looked her in the eye. "Dolley. I am covered in hickeys from my neck to my hips. That man damn near threw my back out. I won't bullshit you; there's no way I'm gonna be able to sit comfortably for—"

"Okay, alright! A 'yes' would've sufficed," Dolley cut her off, pushing past her to the shelf of instant noodles. Y/N looked disproportionately self-satisfied when she followed. "That's about enough details for one evening."

"You asked!"

"But you can't spend the entire semester ignoring him, Y/N," Dolley continued, ignoring her words. "That class is notoriously difficult — the only people I know who didn't frequent his office hours were the ones who got 'C's."

Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples as her roommate pushed cup after cup of beef ramen into her basket. "So then shouldn't I just put this whole thing behind me? I can't really start asking him to help me analyze Kant if I open the conversation with, 'hey, good to see you again, you're almost as good at teaching as you are in bed.'"

Dolley laughed at her dry tone. "I don't mean that, of course."

"Then what do you mean?"

"If you never agree to put this all behind you, I think it's going to be on both of your minds for the rest of the semester," she said matter-of-factly, hesitating when the freezer at the side of the room caught her gaze. "Should we pick up pizza rolls, too?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course we should," Y/N scoffed, brushing past her toward the Totino's section. "But if he and I both just ignore it, wouldn't that be an easier way to put it behind us?"

"Oh, grab a bag of the cheeseburger flavor, would you?" Dolley leaned in to look over Y/N's shoulder, ignoring her words altogether, and she glanced back with a raised eyebrow.

"Can you focus for five seconds?" She dropped three bags of pizza rolls — pepperoni flavor — into her basket with a huff. "Anyway, the cheeseburger flavor is disgusting. Get some taste."

"Don't discount the nostalgia of it!"

"Dolley." Y/N fixed her with a pointed look, and she sighed.

"We both know ignoring it is a poor idea, even if it is the easier option." Dolley didn't waste a second in pushing right past Y/N when she stood, grabbing a bag of the cheeseburger pizza rolls (an oxymoron in itself, as Y/N would've told her) before the freezer door could fall shut. "Just talk to him after class one day. Don't make it take more than five minutes."

"I don't even know where I'd start with that. I've dealt with awkward fallout from one-night stands before, but never with a professor." Her footsteps stalled within the last yard of the frozen section. "I've just gotta ignore it and focus on the coursework, Dolley. Wanna get some Ben and Jerry's?"

"Are you trying to distract me with a pint of chocolate fudge brownie?" Dolley asked incredulously, before adding, "Because it's working. Let's get two."

She grinned. "Excellent."

Y/N figured that was the end of it, that two pints of ice cream and an incredibly vague game plan would be enough to satiate her friend for the time being, but after they checked out, trying to figure out how many meals they could extend one pack of ramen to (because, really, if you just add more water, doesn't it make the servings bigger?), Dolley felt the need to return to it as they walked through the sliding glass exit doors, her words holding an air of finality.

"If you really want to insist on not just communicating with the poor man, Y/N, then fine." Y/N raised a quizzical eyebrow, not yet following where Dolley had abruptly turned the trajectory of their conversation. "But after his lecture on Wednesday, when you realize that leaving the subject untouched just makes it more unbearable—" ("'When'?" Y/N muttered dubiously.) "—then I need you to agree to go talk to your professor."

Dolley didn't wait for her response, squinting at the nutrition facts on the ramen labels as her focus drifted elsewhere (sure, it said two servings, but she was fairly sure that only the bourgeoise couldn't have stretched it to three), but Y/N let out a surrendering sigh.

"Wednesday's going to be just fine," she said, realizing but not caring that Dolley was no longer listening. "But if it isn't, I'll talk to him."

- -

Wednesday was not 'just fine.'

Y/N spent the entire class on edge, trying futilely not to let her thoughts drift back to the other night in the bar, then on the street in front of her building, then in the elevator, in her living room, even in the kitchen— but no, she was getting off track. Little did she know, Thomas was having precisely the same issue.

She jotted down his words almost robotically, the meaning of them going into one ear and out the other, more focused on the sound of his voice than on what he was actually saying.

Only once did she manage to focus for long enough to actually process a thought, but when he was fielding questions about the material, Thomas conveniently managed to miss her having raised her hand from where she was seated. She supposed she'd just positioned herself too far back and thought no more of it.

Despite how 'not fine' that day had been, she dismissed it as a fluke, showing up the next Monday with her head on straight, her readings prepared and annotated, and took a seat several rows further forward. Her motivation may have been misplaced, leaning a bit too far toward wanting to impress her professor and not far enough toward a desire to understand the material, but she was familiar enough with the content to feel comfortable giving her input on the questions he posed to the class throughout the lecture.

Again, her efforts bore no fruit. Her notes were better that day, so that was certainly something to count as a plus, but she left feeling put-out by the fact that she hadn't even had a chance to participate. Usually, she wouldn't have been so perturbed by this — sitting through a Socratic seminar playing tetris on her laptop was no unfamiliar experience — but this class accounted for six of the twelve credit hours she still needed for her chosen major. She didn't suppose that it'd be a good look to have the class dragging down her GPA to be the same one she was supposedly most passionate about; generally speaking, that wasn't what graduate schools were looking for.

Besides, she liked the subject, too. Surely that had to count for something?

And that was how she kept pushing off the inevitable conversation with Thomas — sorry, Professor Jefferson — and coming up with increasingly creative excuses as to why her efforts were being so plainly ignored, not only that following Wednesday, too, but also the Monday and Wednesday after. She'd made it through three weeks of classes before she could finally work up the nerve to confront him.

Unfortunately, that task proved to be no easier than her previous one.

Thom— her professor was always the last one into the lecture hall and the first one out, leaving no opportunities for chatter, or in her case, a supposedly inevitable clash she'd already begun arming herself for. She'd nearly caught him in the halls at various times, but he always seemed to have somewhere he urgently needed to be. The same doctrine followed in his office hours; apparently, another student had scheduled a meeting with him three minutes after every single time she arrived, without fail, so could she please just come back another time? Surely, another time would be better for both of them.

That time never came.

It was near the end of the fourth week that she was entirely fed up. They'd moved from Kant to Machiavelli, and so far, The Prince had her ready to tear her hair out. It didn't help that they'd all just finished the book, their first paper of the year on it due the next Monday.

She was far past lying to herself about her motives being purely academic while she continued to privately just want his attention — no, by then, she was hopped up on forty ounces of sugary coffee and just a touch of RedBull, and she hardly had a thesis for her paper. She'd read the same passages time and time again — she likely could've recited them word-for-word by the time she demanded feedback — and any shallow, vain desires for recognition were the furthest thing from her mind. She needed a professor, and she was pissed that Thomas didn't seem to have any interest in acting like one.

It was late Thursday evening when she marched across the green from the library to the building that housed his office in a fury. Yes, it was the last week of January; yes, the entire city was still coated in snow, but no, she could not bring herself to care about the very real possibility of frostbite as she trudged through the snow in sweatpants, slippers, and a tank top. Practicality wasn't her priority. Finishing her paper was.

Thomas's office hours were from 7 to 10 PM every evening, a schedule he stuck to religiously. It was 9:24 when Y/N began tracking snow through the bottom floor of his building, and 9:31 when she finally managed to locate and reach his actual office.

It was reluctant when she finally knocked, struggling to resist the urge to simply bust in and rip him a new one, but to her relief, it was simply met with a 'come in.' That was when she threw the door open in a fit of annoyance.

"You've been avoiding me," she said, eyes narrowed and tone accusatory before he could so much as react to her presence.

"Y/N, I—" His eyes were wide; he seemed to be at a loss for words as his eyes drifted down to her sweatpants and Hello Kitty slippers. He couldn't have convinced her it wasn't a dignified look even if he'd tried. "What are you doin' here?"

"We need to talk." She dropped her bag into one of the chairs in front of his desk, though she chose not to take a seat, instead glaring down at him, arms folded.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and though his head was down, his shadow of a grimace told her everything she needed to know: he'd been dreading this conversation far more than she had. "Look, right now really isn't a great time. I've got—"

"Don't bullshit me, Thomas."

"Professor Jefferson," he corrected her, the words hissed through gritted teeth, and she huffed, rolling her eyes.

"My bad. Don't bullshit me, Professor Jefferson." Y/N scowled as she took another step towards him. "Your office hours don't end until ten. There's no way you have time for a meeting between now and then if you haven't already started one."

He let out a heavy sigh. "Alright. Alright, fine. And I know what you're gonna say, but—"

"Do you really?" she challenged him, head cocked to one side. "Because the fact that you haven't given me one chance to speak to you in almost a month tells me pretty clearly that you don't. Generally, you find out what people have to say by listening to them."

"We can't have this conversation here. You've gotta come find me some other time." The urgency in his voice only served to infuriate her further. What right did he have to be dictating this when he'd tried to stop the conversation altogether?

"Oh, believe me, I've tried," Y/N huffed. "I'm done accommodating. If you wanted to talk about this some other time, I would've been happy to, but we're well past that."

He held her burning gaze warily for another moment, but she didn't let up. Finally, he sighed. "Fine. Say your part. I'm listenin'."

"You've been completely freezing me out. You haven't been answering my questions in classes; you haven't been letting me contribute to discussions; you, most recently, haven't let me talk to you for more than five seconds, hence why I'm here." She launched into an irate monologue without any further encouragement, and to his credit, Thomas at least had the decency to look guilty. "You've been turning me away at your office hours; for fuck's sake, Thomas, you haven't even answered any of my emails!"

"I know, I know," he said, and though she could see the exhaustion written across his face, she didn't let him continue. "But you've gotta understand—"

"I'm not done," she cut him off, and it was then that he raised an affronted brow. "Anyway, I get why you're keeping your distance. Really, I do. And honestly? I can't really blame you for it."

"Well, great, so—"

"But with that said," —she gave Thomas an expectant look as she continued to speak over him, challenging him to try and interrupt— "You've been doing more than keeping your distance. You've been outright ignoring me, and that's where I'm drawing a line in the sand. Refusing to engage with me doesn't help either of us."

She let out a heavy breath when she finally reached the end of her rant, and though he was certainly taken aback, Thomas looked unimpressed.

"May I speak now?" he asked mockingly, and she scowled. "Or are you just gonna keep cuttin' me off?"

"Depends how much bullshit comes out of your mouth."

He rolled his eyes. "Sure." He put his pen back into the cup on the edge of the desk before drawing himself up to the fullest height he could reach in a rolling chair. With how he was looking at her, with how cross his tone was, Y/N may have backed down in another context, but quite frankly, she was beyond having anything to lose. "I understand that you're hurt, Y/N, and for that, 'm honestly sorry, but—"

"I'm not hurt, I'm ticked!"

"Y/N." That time, his hard voice, his barely-contained anger, did make her shrink away, just a bit. "You've gotta realize that what happened is in the past. It was a mistake. I didn't know you were a student here — you even told me you went to school in Chicago."

"I did, for two years."

"Doesn't matter. Moral of the story is that you've gotta leave that in the past. I'm your professor now, and that's a boundary that can't be crossed. We both need to stop dwellin' on it." His saying 'we' rather than 'you' certainly didn't go unnoticed, but Y/N deemed it not worth addressing.

"Great. It's behind us. Can you stop ignoring me now?"

"Come on, Y/N—"

"Seriously? You're gonna argue with that?" She threw her hands up in a huff, beyond exasperated and crossing the line to indignance. "You wanna remind me that you're my professor? Then stop acting like I don't exist. It's that simple, Thomas."

"It's Professor Jefferson. And I'm not tryin' to ignore you," he defended. "But don't you see the position this puts me in? My job's at stake here. This can never happen again!"

"And who said I wanted it to?" she bit back immediately, and for just a moment, Thomas was rendered silent.

"If that's not what you're lookin' for, then what are you here for?" His voice was quiet, his gaze searching, and Y/N sighed.

"Seriously? I haven't made myself clear enough?" She raised an eyebrow, but his blank look told her all she needed to know. The tension in her shoulders dropped; her combative stance went neutral when she reached into her bag, pulling it from the chair in front of his desk. "You're the one who keeps emphasizing that you're my professor — and that's what I need you to be right now."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly lost as she withdrew Machiavelli's The Prince from her bag, beaten up and slathered in colored tabs around the edges. She added in a small voice, "I've been struggling with the reading. I did it all, but there are just a couple passages that... I need help with."

Thomas — no, Professor Jefferson (god, was she ever going to struggle with getting that down) — looked stunned, plain and simple. Y/N had expected all of his assumptions for why she'd shown up there. Two weeks earlier, they may have also been accurate ones, but ultimately, she was still just a student. He'd really had to have had a big head to think he'd take priority over that for any extended period of time.

His eyes were wide. He continued to look toward her, but his gaze was blank, slowly drifting to his desk, until finally, he sighed. "Well, shit. I, uh... I'm really sorry, Y/N. Really." If the growing guilt behind his shock hadn't been clear enough in his demeanor, it was woven tightly into his voice. His stare flickered back up to her, and despite her lingering irritation, the apology in it softened her. "I got so caught up in my own problems that I didn't even consider. I didn't mean to assume that you... y'know."

"Came here to try and get dicked down?" Y/N supplied, voice dry as she watched him expectantly. He cracked a sheepish smile.

"Somethin' like that."

"As though it'd be worth the effort," she snorted. "There are, like, thirty frats on campus, and I have a paper due Monday — in case you'd forgotten. If I wanted to get laid, I'd do it much more efficiently."

"Mm, but would it be as good?" At the clear ego in Thomas's playful stare, Y/N's eyebrows shot toward her hairline.

"Now who's crossing boundaries?"

Despite the skepticism in her voice, Thomas laughed. "'M just kiddin'. Promise."

"Hilarious." Her small, persistent smile undermined her sarcasm, and his gaze was soft.

"Alright, alright, come take a seat. Show me which pages you're strugglin' with."

"Yeah, so it's less full pages and passages than it is key phrases I just can't seem to connect to the rest of the work." Y/N lowered herself into the chair that wasn't already holding her bag as she flipped open her book to her third pink tab, turning it to show him. "Like, here. Chapter 19."

"Mhm."

"I understand what the whole page is getting at, but look at this..."

They sank easily into the text, despite being focused more on one another's voices than on the writing itself. Ten PM had long since come and gone, but as the night stretched on, the pair only continued to pass Y/N's book back and forth, bouncing from passage to passage, idea to idea as though no time had passed at all. Neither of them bothered to check any sort of a clock until Y/N let out a loud, drawn-out yawn. Thomas raised an eyebrow.

"You gettin' tired?" Y/N gave a halfhearted shrug as he finally checked his watch, and his eyes widened. "Shit, it's past eleven. We should get you outta here."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right." Her voice was weary as she lifted herself out of her seat, tucked her book back into her bag. "I've got everything I need for my paper, anyway."

"Glad to hear it." Thomas reached for his coat as she made her way to the door, but she paused when he asked, "You're not thinkin' of walkin' home, are you?"

She glanced back over her shoulder. "What if I am?"

Thomas furrowed his brow. "Tell me that's a joke. That's gotta be a joke." Y/N shrugged, and Thomas groaned lightly. "In that outfit, you freezin' and gettin' abducted are equally likely, you know that?"

"Aw, thanks for letting me know! Now I feel so much safer," she said, plastering on a mocking smile.

"Lemme call you an Uber," he offered, and Y/N quirked a brow.

"Are you that much of a one-trick pony?"

"If makin' sure women get home safe is my only trick, I think it's a pretty good one to have," he said matter-of-factly, and Y/N had to laugh.

"I can appreciate that. An Uber would be great." Y/N pulled her bag up her shoulder as she returned to his door. "I'll see you Monday?"

"Mhm. Your driver's named Amy, and she's drivin' a blue Camry, by the way," Thomas informed her, and Y/N smiled. "G'night, Y/N."

"Night, professor."

From then on, Y/N began frequenting Thomas's office hours, only hesitantly at first. While her motives were genuine, all of them being centered around getting into grad school, she didn't want to become overbearing, especially with the one night, the sixteen stolen hours that still hung over their heads. She stopped by twice the following week, neither time staying long as other students began to trickle in, peeking nervously around the corner toward his office, knocking so quietly at first that neither Thomas not Y/N realized someone was there. She didn't need him any more than her classmates did, so she yielded her time gracefully.

Moreover, she knew that only very little of the time he offered to students wasn't already occupied, and while the reason for that was certainly clear to her, she wasn't sure whether it'd gone over his head. It wasn't until the fourth time she went to meet with him that she found he was every bit as aware as everyone else.

"Hey, Thom—" Y/N cut herself off with a wince. "Professor Jefferson, you around?" she called down the hall to his office, nose still buried in the email from the anthropology department that she'd pulled up on her phone (apparently they were having a bake sale on the east green; Y/N didn't bother to read further and learn why once she saw they'd have caramel brownies). She only glanced up when she didn't receive an answer, instead hearing chatter drift down the hall, and her footsteps slowed as she neared his doorway. Her eyebrows shot up.

Y/N recognized the woman seated — well, hardly still seated, at that point — with her back to her as Lucy Hart, who sat front and center during every single one of their lectures, who was now all but draping herself across Thomas's desk, leaned onto her forearms and with a pen between her teeth.

Though she seemed to find whatever Y/N had just missed to be hilarious, Thomas's amusement was forced, uneasy as he eased his hand away from where hers had fallen to cover it, holding the book open by one of its ends.

"Alright, Miss Hart, we'll see." Whatever the question was, Thomas wasn't about to give her a straight answer, but Lucy seemed to take that as a challenge. Her cleavage finally spilled back into the neckline of her dress when she sat back in her seat, but she traced one finger up Thomas's forearm.

"I guess we will," she replied. She hadn't seemed to have caught on to how wildly uncomfortable she was making him — Y/N could only assume Lucy had decided she'd left him 'flustered.' She reached for his copy of Hobbes's Leviathan, her perfectly manicured fingers brushing over his as she did so. "Now, where were we?"

Ahem.

From the angle they were seated at, neither Thomas nor Lucy had noticed Y/N standing in the doorway, an eyebrow raised — when she cleared her throat, though, they both jumped. Their reactions to her presence couldn't have been more disparate. The relief written deep in Thomas's tiny smile was obvious, but Lucy was looking her over with a scowl.

"Hey," Y/N finally said, taking a step forward. "I hope I'm not interrupting?"

"'Course not." It was Professor Jefferson who answered, tone formal and body language neutral, but how quickly he'd answered, overtly cutting off Lucy, told Y/N she wasn't misreading the situation. "What can I do for you, Y/N?"

"Yeah, Y/N," Lucy furthered, eyeing her dubiously. "Why are you here?"

Y/N's gaze flickered between the pair of them, the tension in Thomas's shoulders subtle but clear as he inched his arm further from Lucy's. "Last I checked, Professor Jefferson, we had a meeting scheduled for right about now."

Her smile was genuine despite how Thomas knit his dark brow; she hadn't yet moved past finding the ordeal wildly entertaining. "Do we?"

"I thought so," she added with a shrug, and when her pointed gaze fell to Lucy, who still looked irate sitting in the small tufted chair across from him, Thomas sighed, and Y/N felt confident it'd been a sigh of relief. He seemed to have realized the escape rope she'd thrown into his lionness's den. "Unless I got the time wrong? It could've been tomorrow evening, I—"

"No, no you're in the right," he cut her off a little too adamantly, and though she'd already begun to dig through her phone for the nonexistent calendar event, she looked up with her eyebrows raised. "'S my bad. I took the timing down wrong."

Y/N had to bite down her self-satisfied smile. "Are you sure? Because really, we can reschedule; I'm also available—"

"No. Now's just fine," he assured her, and the indignant look Lucy shot him had the beginnings of a smile creeping past Y/N's innocent mask. "Made a promise, and it'd be only right to keep it, wouldn't it?"

"It is your responsibility to model integrity, professor."

"Then I guess I've gotta make sure I don't give anybody the wrong idea."

Y/N wasn't sure whether the words, 'the wrong idea' were pointed at her or at Lucy, or whether they were even pointed at all, with her simply reading too far into a nonexistent subtext to take them at face value. She didn't dwell much longer.

"Well, thanks for stoppin' by, Miss Hart—" Vindication flashed in Y/N's eyes when she noticed his electing not to use Lucy's first name. "—I hope all this discussion's deepened your understandin' of Hobbes's view on human nature."

"Oh, I've learned quite a bit about human nature," Lucy said as she stood, and Thomas's discomfort hadn't faded. Y/N was struggling to comprehend what about her words possibly justified her tone being so suggestive. "I hope I can come back another night for you to teach me a little more of it, Thom— oh! I mean, Professor Jefferson."

She glanced bashfully at Y/N with her final few words, her sheepish front fooling no one. Y/N wasn't sure to what end, but this was a clear ploy for her jealousy — she'd been around the block once or twice. Y/N genuinely struggled to contain her amusement as Lucy shot him a wink before turning to leave, exaggerating the movements of her hips. The door fell shut behind her.

It wasn't until Lucy's footsteps were out of earshot that Thomas let out a heavy sigh, sinking down in his chair, and Y/N let out the laugh she'd spent the past ten minutes swallowing.

"So, Lucy Hart, huh? That's who you've been spending all your alleged 'office hours' with?" she started, and Thomas's glare was weak.

"C'mon, Y/N."

"Is that why your door's locked half the times I show up here? Today wasn't very subtle, you know."

"Y/N." His voice was hard when he gave her a pointed look, but with how tired he looked, she didn't push it further, just smiled.

"Relax; I'm just kidding." She shrugged off her jacket. "I know that if you were to sleep with a student, it wouldn't be Lucy. Don't worry."

He raised his eyebrows at her audacity, her smug grin, but he couldn't prevent the amusement that showed through to his expression. "Really? You're gonna go there?"

"Go where?" When she knit her brow, plastered on a confused frown, Thomas had to swallow his laugh. "Now, I'm just not sure what you're implying, professor. Do you plan on sleeping with Lucy?

"Hilarious, Y/N." His rolling his eyes left her undeterred. "In all seriousness, though, I think she really believes she is bein' subtle."

"Unfortunately, I'm well aware," Y/N sighed. "I've seen her at a few too many parties to have any illusions about what a painfully tactless flirt she is."

"You're tellin' me."

"Has it been like this all semester?" she asked. Sure, Y/N had seen how shameless Lucy was during lectures, leaving no stone unturned to draw attention to herself, but this seemed a new level of egregious. Yet, Thomas nodded.

"Once a week, every week. Least, when it isn't more than that."

"Sometimes it's more?" Y/N let out a breathy, disbelieving laugh, and Thomas nodded his solemn confirmation. "Jesus. So this is why you look pissed every time she participates in class. I figured you just hated the sound of her voice as much as I do."

"Believe me; I've been startin' to."

"That's so harsh!"

"Aw, c'mon, and you wouldn't?"

Y/N shrugged, pursed her lips, but her eyes glinted with hubris. "Well," she said, "It'd depend on how hot the student was. I mean, in my opinion, if Lucy was me, it just might be a different story."

Thomas couldn't bring himself to look annoyed. "Yeah, yeah. Alright," he said, shaking his head at her words. "You think you're fuckable. I get it."

"Glad we agree." Y/N's lips quirked up into a smug smile, but Thomas raised his eyebrows.

"Hang on, now. That's not quite what I—"

"But if she's really bothering you," Y/N continued, altogether disregarding his protests, and Thomas sighed. "You know you could just, like, talk to Lucy about it, right? You're the one with the power, here."

She couldn't put her finger on exactly why he winced at the latter sentence.

"Guess so, I just... I dunno. 'S really no big deal; I'm just gettin' fed up with all that." He gave a halfhearted shrug that made her raise an eyebrow. "But don't worry 'bout that. Why're you here, if not for the meetin' we've supposedly got scheduled for tonight?"

His tone was light, playful with the question, but Y/N was still stuck on what he'd started with. "Hold on; you can't just deflect that easily."

"Deflect from what?" He furrowed his brow, but Y/N just huffed, walking toward the near side of his desk.

"From whatever you're getting 'fed up with all of,'" she said, and when she eyed him skeptically, his fatigued sigh told her she wasn't imagining things. "Can I sit?"

"Yeah, sure, join me." Thomas beckoning her toward his empty chairs was almost absentminded. "But really, it's nothin'."

"No offense, but I don't know if I believe you." As she sank down into one of his guest's seats, a conflicted look flickered across his gaze, building further on the concern in her words. "What's up? C'mon; talk to me."

He hesitated. "'M serious, Y/N; it's not—"

"Thomas."

He raised an eyebrow, but it took her a moment to notice her own error. "Excuse me?"

"Professor Jefferson, I mean. Of course." Her smile was sheepish, but it just made him chuckle.

"Alright, alright. 'S nothin' serious, anyway, but 'm just gettin' sick of not bein' taken seriously."

Y/N's words were hesitant as she raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? People take you seriously."

"Mm, but do they?" He sighed as he sat back in his chair. "I'm the youngest professor on campus; half my office hours are taken up by undergrads hittin' on me. It's hard to feel like I'm gettin' a lot of respect when you don't even treat me like a professor."

"Hey, come on, I respect you," she defended, and he shook his head.

"I don't mean you, specifically, Y/N. Just... your whole class. I'm already hardly old enough to be teachin' at a university, but it also kinda sucks to see how many people pretend to care about learnin' just to get my attention," he said, and his voice was soft. His quiet sigh made Y/N frown, especially as his absent gaze wandered through his own office.

"I'm sorry," she said, and he glanced back over to her. "Keep in mind, though, you made the first move on me. Not the other way around."

Despite her having been entirely serious, her words made Thomas laugh — a full-bodied laugh, too, one that couldn't help but make her smile in return. "Thanks for lettin' me know," he said, and though she rolled her eyes at his sarcastic tone, she was glad to see him lightening up. "Sorry to say it, sweetheart, but not everything's about you."

Neither noticed his casual term of endearment. "What a shame," Y/N sighed.

"Mm, I'm sure. I guess I just..." When he trailed off, Y/N raised a brow, and the concerned look in her eyes was what prompted him to continue. "I know I'm smart, 'n all, but it never feels great to feel discounted. Especially bein' new to the faculty."

"I hear that," Y/N said, her tone light but gaze solemn. "For what it's worth, I do come to your office for help because I know you can and want to provide it, not because I have some ulterior motive."

"Glad to hear it." Though his tone almost suggested he may have been being facetious, Y/N could tell that he wasn't making fun. "But on that note, thanks for givin' me an out with the Lucy fiasco. What'd you need, comin' here?"

Y/N's smile was small, all but apologetic as she unzipped her bag after pulling it into her lap. "Right. So, I know this isn't your job, and all..."

When she trailed off, Thomas eyed her suspiciously, especially as her lips only seemed to stretch further into a grin. "What's this about?"

"Is there any chance you'd be willing to read over my paper for my constitutional law seminar?" At the hopeful look she wore as she withdrew her printed essay from her bag, he had to laugh.

"Really? You're not even here for somethin' about my class?"

"Yes or no, professor?" She raised a brow, waving the packet back and forth expectantly.

"And why'd you decide to come see if I'd look through it? What makes you think I'm gonna?"

"You read over my French paper last week!" she pointed out, and Thomas sighed.

"Yeah, 'cause I speak French."

"You speak English, too. And you worked in government." Y/N shrugged, putting the paper down on his desk regardless. "So, please? I'd ask my roommate, but she's studying business, and you must know how that goes."

"You trashin' on business majors?" Thomas raised an eyebrow.

"If I was, would I be wrong?"

Her deadpan stare made him laugh. "Can't argue with that. Give it here."

He held his hand out for the essay, and she gave it to him with a wide grin. "You're the best."

"What else is new?" he asked, and despite how dry his tone was, his eyes were teasing. "You wanna go through it with me now, or should I get it back to you some other time?"

"Any chance we can go over it now?" she asked. "It might sort of be due in two days."

His eyebrows shot up. "Are you tellin' me I'm some kinda last resort?"

"Of course not!" she defended, but she hesitated before continuing, "Just an eleventh-hour supplementary resource who's going to help me get a diploma."

"I'm sure," he said, and the skeptical look he gave made the corners of her lips twitch. "You owe me, y'know that?"

"Really. I should start paying you, one of these days."

"To be fair, you do pay my salary."

"Mm, maybe some students do, but I wouldn't be so sure about that if I were you."

Thomas furrowed his brow, confusion permeating every aspect of his expression as he looked back at her. "What, you 'n Elizabeth Warren linked up in a personal campaign for free college?"

"No, but the president of financial aid and I did." She shrugged. "Honestly, they saved my ass. Sorry I'm not raising your salary, or anything, but I hardly pay to go here."

When he slowly nodded, she could see the small, subtle smile tugging at his lips. "I'll try not to hold it against you. 'M glad you ended up here anyway."

Y/N's grin was exaggerated, a fact she did nothing to conceal. "Aww, professor, I knew you secretly liked having me here."

He rolled his eyes, but his smile mirrored hers. "I meant that I'm glad that money isn't holdin' you back from gettin' a good education."

"I'm sure you did."

Thomas cocked a brow. "D'you want me to read your paper or not?"

At his words, Y/N had to bite back her cocky grin, and she nodded. "Yes, please."

"Then get off your high horse 'n listen." Despite his words, amusement sat heavy in the way he was skeptically eyeing Y/N.

"Of course, professor."

"It's been shockingly chill."

Y/N was sprawled out on the carpet of her living room, a styrofoam cup of ramen in one hand and chopsticks in the other, while Dolley sat curled up at the end of the couch flipping through Netflix on their TV.

"No lingering sexual tension?" Dolley challenged, glancing down to where Y/N was slurping her noodles (she'd asserted that ramen on the couch was too high of a stain risk). Y/N shook her head, and Dolley raised an eyebrow. "Really? No secret desire to end up bent over his desk?"

"Okay, listen, what I want and what I act on are two very different things." She pointed her chopsticks at Dolley accusatorily. "I can have it both ways."

"So you're still looking for another night of fun?" Dolley raised a playful eyebrow, and Y/N only grinned.

"Are you offering?"

"I could be convinced, dear." The wink Dolley sent her made Y/N laugh, broth sloshing down the side of her cup that she didn't hesitate to lick off of the back of her hand.

"Mhm, because my sex appeal is through the roof, I'm sure."

"Alright, I'll confess. I am only joking, after all," Dolley sighed, a wistful look in her eyes as she scrolled through the Netflix TV dramas category. "But only because things with James are going better than I expected."

Y/N's eyes widened; she spun in her spot on the floor. "Dolley, oh my God, spill! You've been holding out on me."

"There's not much for me to spill, really." She shrugged, and the smile she wore was coy. "He and I have just been getting on well. Nothing more to it."

"No. Uh-uh." Y/N shook her head, setting her near-empty instant ramen onto their coffee table. "You're gonna give me more than that. You have to. Clearly something's been happening."

Dolley bit her lip. "So, would we rather watch Stranger Things or The Good Place?"

"Don't you dare change the subject!"

"Alright, alright," she finally sighed, and her gaze was soft when she finally met Y/N's eyes. "So, we've been seeing each other more often. Getting coffee, grabbing lunch between classes. He's even had me read over different drafts of his thesis."

"Aww, he's using you as an editor? How romantic!"

"Make fun all you want, but he trusts me with it. Isn't that worth something?"

"Of course it is, Doll." Y/N smiled, unable to tease Dolley further when she had such a sappy look in her eyes. "But if you've been dating, why am I just finding out?"

She didn't meet Y/N's gaze, fiddling with the cuffs of her sleeves. "We haven't been going on dates, really."

"Oh yeah? This is how you talk about hanging out with everyone else you aren't dating?" The challenge in Y/N's tone made her scoff, roll her eyes, but they both knew she had a point.

"It's nothing official."

"But do you want it to be?" Y/N quirked a brow. Dolley's smile was faint.

"Maybe a little," she said quietly, and Y/N's grin broadened.

"That's adorable. I'm thrilled for you," she said, but there was a heavy pause before she hesitantly added, "but be careful with him."

Dolley furrowed her brow, finally turning toward where Y/N sat. "What d'you mean?"

"You have a habit of quickly getting attached to men who turn out to be terrible for you. Remember Henry?"

"Knox or Clay?"

"Either. You're making my point." Y/N gave her a knowing look, but Dolley didn't seem overly offended. "You're just too quick to give people the benefit of the doubt. Not everyone deserves it."

"But that's what you love about me, dear."

"Don't you turn my undying love and affection for you against me!" Y/N protested, and though she rolled her eyes, Dolley appeared to be entertained. "I adore you for what a sweetheart you are, but it's also what men take advantage of."

"Yes, I know; you've given me this talk before," Dolley sighed. "But really, I think this time might be different. I really like James."

Y/N pursed her lips. "It'd better be. Otherwise he's gonna have hell to pay."

"I'm not too worried."

"I am."

"Would you feel better if I gave you a chance to screen him?" Y/N raised an interested eyebrow at Dolley's words. "Because I invited him to come over Wednesday night for dinner. If you'd like, it'll be a prime time for you to interrogate him."

She sighed. "I dunno, Doll. I don't want to third wheel."

"You live here. You won't be third-wheeling," Dolley pointed out. "And you wouldn't have to stay! You could just pop in, say hello, and either leave or just go wait him out in your room."

A small smile grew across Y/N's lips at her words. "And you'll seriously let me interrogate him?"

"Have at it."

"I'm in."

Dolley 🥺💋 sent: James is coming over in five minutes, so get home whenever

Dolley 🥺💋 sent: unless of course you've decided to grant him your tacit approval

Y/N sent: be home soon 😪

Dolley 🥺💋 sent: see u 😘

"Y/N?"

It was Wednesday evening, around 6 PM. Y/N's political philosophy seminar had just been let out, but she'd really spent most of her focus over the past three hours on figuring out exactly how to determine whether or not James was a piece of shit. Apparently he was bringing takeout to her and Dolley's apartment for all three of them, which she saw to be a point in his favor.

However, as her classmates filed out of the lecture hall, Y/N stood idly, taking hesitant steps forward out of her row as she tried to multitask, neither eager to stop texting Dolley or to trip all the way down the steps to the front of the room. It was Professor Jefferson who knocked her out of the reverie that'd been induced by the promise of James delivering what she imagined to be the best food she'd had in weeks.

She looked up with a brow raised, tucking her phone back into her pocket. "Hey, professor."

"You have a second to talk?"

"Oh, um..." Despite her deep-seated motivation to get home before dinner was cold, she supposed it could wait just a little longer. She nodded. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"

She pulled her bag onto her shoulder as she stepped out onto the hall's staircase, maybe three rows up from where Thomas stood at the bottom floor.

He leaned nonchalantly against the first row of desks. "So, the TA I've had since first semester's leavin' in a week or two. He's goin' abroad to South Korea for the fourth quarter, 'n he's decided to resign from bein' my assistant at the end of this week, so that he can make sure he's got everything in order for the next three months."

She frowned. "That's too bad. I'm sorry to hear it." She folded her arms, paused before adding, "So what, you want me to break the news to the class that we aren't getting those papers on the Enlightenment back anytime soon?"

At her quirked brow, her playful smile, Thomas had to give a light laugh. "Mm, I'm hopin' it won't come to that."

"You should probably get to grading instead of keeping me from dinner, then."

"Oh, 'm sorry; how dare I, really?" He responded, a hand over his heart, and she had to bite back her entertained smile at the irony in his indignance.

"Honestly. I can't imagine why I put up with it."

"I'll make it up to you," he said dryly. "But seriously, 'm not just tellin' you that for the sake of small talk. What I'm sayin' is that I have an openin' to find a new TA."

"I see," she said, raising an eyebrow. "And where, pray tell, do I come into all this?"

It wasn't that his train of thought was hard to follow, nor was his implication, but until he said it outright, Y/N had no desire to make any sort of an assumption.

He smiled. "You have any interest in becomin' a TA?"

"Seriously?" She furrowed her brow. "I mean, I appreciate it, but why?"

"First off, your work's consistently at the top of this class," he said matter-of-factly. They both knew she was well aware of this, after the hours in his office she'd spent grilling him on the historical context of every one of Voltaire's assertions and the implications of every early revolution. "You're a good writer, 'n you're more than capable of reviewin' other students' work. You've also already taken most of the other classes I teach, so you're familiar with all the material."

She nodded slowly, folding her arms, and though her expression would've conveyed that she was deep in thought, she couldn't suppress her growing smile. "I see. So it doesn't have anything to do with how attractive or charming I am?"

When she raised a playful eyebrow, he laughed outright. "Whenever your charm can start gradin' thirty ten-page papers a day, I'll start takin' it into account."

"Don't underestimate it."

"Alright, alright, I'll keep it in mind." He shook his head, and his lingering smile made the corners of her lips twitch. "'M serious, though. If you've already got enough on your plate, and you don't wanna take on another commitment, that's cool 'n all, and I can always ask someone else. But would you want the position?"

She pursed her lips, eyed him hesitantly. "Will I need to apply for it?"

"Nah," he said. "By the university's policy, you've gotta send me your resume and transcript, but if you wanna be my TA, you've got it. So?"

When she bit her lip, his eyes flickered down to her mouth so briefly that she almost didn't notice it. "I don't know, Thom—" He raised a brow. "Professor. Is there any chance I can think on it and get back to you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, 'course. I can give you 'til the end of the week, if that's enough time?"

"That'd be great." As she held his gaze, she couldn't help but ponder exactly what she was being asked. She was sure his motives were pure; she couldn't imagine for the life of her Thomas giving her a job with the intent of breaking down professional boundaries so he could sleep with her, but that was where her mind was going regardless. "I'll stop by and let you know on Friday."

"I'm countin' on it." He wore a wide grin that shouldn't have and usually wouldn't have put her on edge. Her mind had fallen down the rabbit hole of fixating on just how much more time she'd be spending with him as his TA — he saw enough of her during his office hours, but she was of two minds with that. On one hand, what would a few more hours change? However, on the other, all she was hearing was that he didn't mind spending a few more hours with her. "I'll see you then?"

When he raised an eyebrow, she finally realized she'd spaced out for a solid minute, and she fixed on a smile, though it was tense. "See you then."

She left without another word.

James proved to be a nice guy when Dolley had him over; he brought burgers and milkshakes for all three of them. However, Y/N knew she'd only find herself on Dolley's bad side however many hours later. As much as he was talking, Y/N didn't retain a single word he shared about himself, despite having promised she'd use the evening to formulate her opinion on him. So much for protecting Dolley.

Instead, Professor Thomas Jefferson occupied every one of her thoughts.

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mcwriting · 3 years

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The Marriage Project (6)

Heyyy guys! Sorry this has taken so long to get out. Even though I have a lot of chapters written, I’m in the process of overhauling some later chapters and I’m trying to make sure I don’t conflict anything in these earlier chaps. Also I’ve been sooooo busy :(

Also: if you haven’t seen my recent kim possible au, definitely check it out!

Story Masterlist

Word Count: 2307

Warnings: none that I can think of this chapter

% Approximately the 2nd week of October %

Monday you continued to shut down and deflect dumb rumors about you and Tom. The rumors had exploded over the weekend since some had noticed the way Tom pointed you out before his game and walked with you after.

But it was all innocent, right?

In home ec, you started a sewing project of making a pajama set.

As always, Mrs. Flynn had tied it into the marriage project, requiring that couples sewed each others’ garments and made the fabrics compliment each other. If everything turned out right, the couples would have to wear them during their final presentations.

You laid on the floor over the fabric you’d chosen as Tom marked your hem length for the pants, the main part of the pattern already cut out.

“This Friday is your last home volleyball game, right?” Tom questioned as he rubbed chalk on the fabric.

“Yeah, I know. Crazy, right? It’s been half of my school life longer than I’ve known you. Just like that, it’ll be pretty much over.”

“Have any big plans for your senior night, then?”

You sat up and got off the fabric so Tom could cut it.

“Well, I’m probably gonna do my hair and makeup since they’ll take pictures before the game, and then after we win I’m going out to dinner with my family. My extended fam is coming to town. If they weren’t gonna be here I’d drive over to the football game.”

You laid out the fabric for Tom’s pants and waited for him to lay on it, preparing to do the same as him.

The football game was against the other public school in your town, which was essentially your biggest rival, and this year it was at their field.

“You won’t get to see me win, princess? That’s just sad. I’ll be at your game for at least the beginning. I just have to be over there an hour and a half before kickoff, but it’s not till 7:30. My mom wants to shoot pics so you’ll probably see her.”

Tom laid down.

“Oh yeah? Based on the football pictures I’ve seen, I’m excited for her volleyball shots. By the way, how did the pictures she took this weekend turn out? I haven’t had real pictures like that taken of me since I was probably 3.”

You leaned forward to mark the fabric, but first had to move Tom’s leg to the right position.

“Haven’t seen them. She never shows me pictures until she’s done editing. I also can’t relate to the other thing. She’s had a camera pointed at all of us since the day we were born. I get it, though, it is her career.”

Tom got up and you both went to sit by the sewing machine you’d set up, pinning the fabric cutouts into individual pant leg tubes.

“Tell her I’ll be her subject matter any time, champ. I actually had a lot of fun doing it.”

“WIll do. And you’re really gonna stick with champ?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Kinda rolls off the tongue.”

By the end of class you’d both finished and tried on the pants, and you were surprised at how well Tom had done on yours.

Wednesday, you made the shirts, which, since they were custom made, fit just about perfectly, too. As per usual, you got an A.

Friday morning, you dreaded and looked forward to the afternoon. Like, yeah, you were excited to be recognized for your years of hard work, but you didn’t want it to be over either.

You looked in the mirror, butterflies in your stomach.

Since it was chilly, you wore some ripped skinny jeans and a dressy long sleeved top with pink flowers. Your hair was straightened and glittery makeup adorned your face.

You were interested to see how people would react to the more traditionally “girly” side of you at school.

Even your parents were surprised to see you all dressed up as you said your goodbyes and headed out the door.

In the halls, people pointed and stared, but it wasn’t accusatory like the prior week. Instead, people complimented the look and congratulated you on the upcoming evening.

You walked into calculus, flicking your hair over your shoulder as you sat down next to Tom.

“Wow. Finally decided to go for it, huh?”

“Yeah, well. I thought about our conversation a couple weeks ago and decided to dress for myself. It’s been pretty well received so far.”

“Princess, I’m pretty sure people are gonna like you no matter what you’re wearing.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes, preparing to reply when you were cut off by the bell and the start of announcements.

As your game got closer throughout the day, the pit in your stomach grew deeper. You spent the entire free period talking to coach in her classroom to get your mind off the upcoming game.

“Y/n, I know you’re nervous, but this is going to be the best night of your entire volleyball career. I know you and know that you’re gonna crush it. That whole team looks up to you and Anna. I haven’t seen a pair of such magnetic personalities leading my team in years. I’m proud to call myself your coach.”

You gave a watery smile.

“Thank you, coach. I’ve loved having you mentor me these last four years. I promise I won’t just forget about you after tonight.”

“Well you better not. We still have regionals and state the next two weeks,” she joked. “Now bring it in, kid. I don’t want anyone seeing me be a softie.”

You quickly hugged. Once separating, she took on a serious face.

“Now go run along, eat a snack or whatever it is you do before games,” she said seriously, before cracking one more smile and tossing you a wink.

You stood outside the gym nervously, flanked by your parents.

They were about to walk you out and present you for the final time.

Anna was walking through the gym now with her parents and siblings as people cheered in the stands, and there were nervous flutters in your stomach.

Finally, someone waved you along. You stepped into the large gym and saw the massive crowd cheering and clapping. All of your friends and family were in the stands.

You also noticed Tom in the crowd. He wasn’t overtly clapping and yelling like everyone else, but he did put up a thumb and shoot you a wink when you made eye contact.

As the announcer listed off things from the senior night sheet you had filled out, you found yourself holding back tears, thinking about all the memories you had of the sport.

A few slipped out and you quickly wiped them away so Nikki could come take a couple pictures of your family.

After the announcer finished up, your parents went to join your extended family in the stands as you warmed up on your home court one last time.

After winning the first two sets, you sat on the bench, ready to win one last one as you noticed Tom slip out the gym, giving one final wave.

You quickly pushed his absence out of your mind however, when you got behind the back line and put an ace down on the first serve.

Sam opened his front door for you the next day.

Of course, you had won the night before, shed a few tears, and enjoyed the time with your family, who you’d said bye to before going to the Hollands’.

“Hey, y/n. Good game last night. You and Anna crushed it.”

“Thanks, Sam. Julia was amazing, too. Without her, we’d never have good passes to set and hit.”

Sam agreed and talked to you for a little bit when you thought of something.

“Oh, hey. Where’s your mom? I wanted to talk to her.”

“Um, I think she’s in her office. Let’s go check.”

He led you to a part of the house you’d never been, and sure enough, Nikki was sat in front of a large desktop computer, a picture of you jump serving on the screen.

“That’s an incredible shot!”

She startled a bit and turned her chair to face you.

“Oh! Y/n, you scared me. Come on in! I was just going through the pictures I took at yours and Tom’s games last night. While you’re here, let me show you the ones I took last Saturday.”

She minimized the tab she was working on and pulled up a file, the first picture being a black and white shot of you looking down at a notebook, writing.

“Woah. That’s beautiful,” you breathed, looking at every little detail.

“Thank you, that means a lot. You can scroll through them all, if you like. I’m going to go find Tom, I think I heard him and Harry arguing not too long ago.”

You chuckled as she left, looking at each photo. Some she kept in color and others were in black and white. You stopped on the picture of you and Tom laughing at each other.

Your faces were lit up in genuine happiness, and you felt a pang in your chest as you burned the photo into your memory. You quickly changed it when you heard footsteps approaching.

“Hey, sorry. Harry was being an ass. You like the pictures?”

“Yeah, they’re incredible. I’d love to have some of them.” you said, scrolling through the last few.

“I’ll ask her to put some of those on the flashdrive she’s making you. She was planning on just putting all the pictures from last week to tomorrow on one if you’re good with it.”

“Oh, yeah. No rush. Ready to go upstairs?”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied as you picked up your backpack from the floor and followed him. He continued. “So I hear you guys won last night. Way to end on the best note possible.”

“Yeah, it was a bittersweet night. What about you? I never heard anything about the game.”

“Oh, we won. Not much to it, but it was a tough game.”

Tom closed the door behind him and immediately went to his desk. He pulled out a piece of chocolate and tossed it to you as you sat down.

You worked together for a while, then decided to take a break, just sprawled across the floor on your backs a couple feet apart.

You glanced over at Tom, who was messing around with his necklace.

“Can I ask you something?” you said quietly.

“Hmm?”

“What’s with your necklace? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take it off.”

Tom was quiet for a few minutes, rolling his plastic ring in his fingers.

“My grandad, my dad’s dad, gave it to me a few years ago before he passed. It’s just a saint’s symbol for protection. It was basically his way of saying he’d always be there for me. He was one of the best people in my life, and I wear it to remember him. It also helps me stay grounded sometimes, when I’m anxious or sad.”

You listened intently and looked at Tom for a while, who was just staring straight at the ceiling. There were tons of questions racing through your head, but you narrowed them down to one.

“Why did you put your, uh, ‘wedding’ ring on there, then? I don’t feel like I deserve to be next to him.”

Tom smiled and let out a breath through his nose, then looked right at you.

“Well I definitely wasn’t going to wear it on my finger. At first, I did it just to piss you off, because I could tell that you didn’t like it. But… I don’t know, I just… kept it as a reminder of everything we’ve been through. We still call each other enemies but honestly, I’ve started to consider you one of my closest friends.”

You scanned his face, grinning slightly. Over the past week and a half his bruises had pretty much faded, a little bit of yellow lingering around his cheek and his lip pink with new skin.

You noticed his hand close by and laid yours on top of it, stroking your thumb over the tops of his fingers.

“Yeah… yeah,” was all you could manage to whisper out loud.

After a few moments, Tom flipped his hand, pressing your palms together and curling his fingers around yours. All you could manage to do was stare at each other in silence, unsure of what to think or how to act.

You were startled out of it when there was a knock at the door. Your hands quickly pulled away from each others’ as the door creaked open and you sat up. It was Nikki.

“Sorry to bug you two, but I was just gonna come ask what time would be good for you tomorrow, y/n? We need enough time to get there and take the sports pictures during the day but I think golden hour would be perfect if you wanted to bring another outfit and take regular pictures.”

“Okay, yeah. Whatever time you think. I’m free all day.”

“Well I was thinking we leave here by two so we get there at three and have plenty of time before it gets fully dark around eight. My parents would love to have you for dinner, too.”

“Sounds good with me. I’ll make sure to pack a dress or something to change into.”

“Alright, well I’ll let you get back to it, just wanted to ask before I forgot again.”

Once she shut the door, you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. You looked to Tom, who seemed just as uncomfortable about everything as you were.

“Okay then, let’s finish up,” you suggested, waking your computer back up.

A/N: once again, so sorry it has taken this long to upload ch 6! I’m so excited for y’all to see ch 7 tho like I literally love it. Anyways, I really want to get on a more consistent upload schedule but I also want this story to be the best it can be and school is making that so hard rn

Don’t forget to check out my new work and hopefully I’ll have another one-shot out soon, too!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series tag lists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Story Tag List: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @stxfxniexreads

#The Marriage Project #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland story #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #harry holland #sam holland

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sandersstudies · 4 years

Text

Espressoly for You - Chapter One

Coffeeshop AU, you all wanted it, and I delivered. Hope there’s more coming but you guys know I’m historically unreliable with regular updates so here’s hoping! No trigger warnings for the chapter, just good clean coffee.

***

Virgil was halfway inside the fridge when he heard the bell on the front entrance ring. He scooped a jug of milk under each arm, slammed the fridge door with his foot, and shuffled awkwardly back into the cafe.

Logan was at the register, making small-talk with Wendy as she ordered her two usual black coffees. He glanced up with a split-second smirk as Virgil emerged from the storeroom.

“Will that be all for you, today?” Logan asked.

“Yes, thank you, dear,” Wendy said, fumbling in her change purse. “Oh, wait, I’m so sorry, do you have the blueberry muffins today?”

“We do,” Logan said. “They only came out of the oven an hour ago.”

“I’ll take two,” Wendy said. “My grandkids love your muffins.”

Logan turned around to wrap the muffins and stole another stare at Virgil, who ducked to hide his face in the mini-fridge as he put away the milk. He made a show of rearranging every jug inside so the labels faced out, and Wendy was toddling out of the cafe by the time he stood back up.

“You sure were in a rush to put away the milk,” Logan said.

“Just trying to get stocking out of the way,” Virgil said.

“I don’t think so.”

“Think what you want.”

“You’re waiting for your boyfriend to come back.”

Virgil felt his face flush hot, and ducked back down to rearrange the milk all over again. “He is not my boyfriend, and if you ever suggest anything like that…” He hoped his glare, flashed over the top of the fridge door, finished the sentence for him.

“Okay, okay,” Logan said, turning to stare out the front windows. “Oh, there he is now!”

Virgil winced as he thumped the back of his head against the inside of the fridge. He rubbed his scalp as he stood up more slowly and saw that there was no-one in front of the store at all. Logan had a self-satisfied grin on his face that Virgil would have liked to wipe off.

“It’s perfectly alright to like someone,” Logan said. “Have you finished sorting the fridge by the Dewey decimal system?

“I’ve never said one thing about that guy,” Virgil retorted, ignoring the sarcasm of the question.

“And that’s exactly why I know you like him,” Logan said. “You love to gossip about customers but every time he’s in here you get awfully quiet. And you can’t ring in his order without stuttering.”

Virgil was guilty of that. Of course, it didn’t matter. That was one order he had memorized by heart. Large cinnamon oat milk latte with extra cinnamon-sugar on top.

Logan strolled to the espresso machine and started steaming the milk for his usual café au lait.

“I’m going on my break,” he said. “Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.”

Virgil couldn’t think of a retort as Logan finished his drink and vanished into the storeroom. The door swung shut behind him. Virgil took a cloth and began to wipe down the counters, and kept one eye on the windows. He’d finished half the cafe when Terry, a regular, appeared in the door of his office building across the street. Virgil was already pulling the espresso for Terry’s usual americano by the time the bell at the front of the cafe chimed. It felt good knowing the regulars and being confident with the espresso machine. It had taken weeks before Logan trusted him in the cafe alone, and months before Virgil trusted himself. Now, everything was second-nature. Virgil handed Terry his drink and, when Terry swiped his card, Virgil reminded him that with only three more visits he’d have another free drink.

“And that should be about this time tomorrow,” Terry joked. Virgil mustered an authentic smile as Terry chuckled himself out the door, americano in hand. Terry could be counted on to visit two, sometimes three times a day, morning and lunchtime, and often as he left work just before the cafe closed.

Virgil’s cinnamon-latte visitor was, unfortunately, not so reliable. Virgil didn’t work on Mondays or Tuesdays, and Cinnamon Boy

Oh no, I can’t start calling him that.

Cinnamon Guy never came in on weekends. He and his posse dropped by after afternoon class during the week before taking the bus back home, or at least Virgil had picked up that much from “accidentally” overheard conversations while sweeping. At least one of the group was almost always wearing the local university’s swag, so he knew which college they attended too. Sometimes they propped up study sessions on one of the cafe tables, notebooks sprawling. At least one of them was studying science, judging from the textbooks, but Virgil wasn’t sure which one.

Over the past year of working in the cafe, he’d gotten better at starting small-talk at the register and over the espresso machine, but he always seemed to clam up when that group was around, only managing to stutter out a greeting and a total, if that. The three boys were almost always wrapped up in their own conversation, though, so it didn’t matter much.

It was Wednesday now. Logan said he’d seen them on Monday, but there was no sign of them yet. A pair of girls, one of them wearing a university sweatshirt, appeared outside the window and came inside. The bell jingled and Virgil found himself spacing out as he rang up and made their lattes. One of the girls tipped a dollar, and they both left.

The lull between the lunch rush and after-school rush was dragging on, and Virgil realized he couldn’t wait for the unpredictability of spring break. Next Friday, university classes took a week off, and students in town with no class filled coffee shops during the day, and house parties at night. Virgil poured himself a black coffee. This job was giving him caffeine tolerance the likes of which he’d never imagined. The largest cup the cafe offered, filled to the brim with strong french-pressed coffee, barely lifted his eyelids anymore. During lulls, he and Logan had been known to take shots of espresso like liquor as a daily ritual.

Virgil sipped his coffee absentmindedly, and hunched behind the register to begin a doodle on the side of an empty coffee cup. The curvature made clean lines impossible, but he managed a rough sketch of the building across the street, and was just beginning to outline windows when the cafe bell chimed. Virgil straightened.

“I told him I don’t care anyway, spring break starts next week.”

“You’ll care when finals week creeps up on you.”

“Well, it’s not finals week now, is it?”

Virgil fumbled for something to do so he wouldn’t seem to be spying on the conversation, and turned to the coffee pot immediately behind the register to press buttons that did nothing.

“It’s a difficult class, that’s all I’m saying.”

“I took it last semester, it wasn’t that hard.”

When the three boys approached the register Virgil pretended to have just noticed them.

“Oh, hello, what can I get started for you guys?”

The first boy, clad in a leather jacket despite the growing spring warmth, didn’t even have to look at the menu.

“Large iced coffee with light caramel, light cream, please.” He was already sliding his card into the reader, having heard his total many times before.

“Great, and looks like you only need one more visit before you’ll have a free coffee reward!” Interacting with customers using canned lines sure had gotten easier with time. It was only difficult when a customer tripped him up… Virgil made direct eye contact with the second boy to avoid looking at the first one.

“These two will both be on one ticket,” the boy said. He was dressed more practically in a university t-shirt of white and red, with clashing oversized athletic shorts in black and green, and the logo of a local high school. “I’ll have a black coffee with five sugars.” He extended his fist and dropped a wadded-up five and what seemed like a pound of coins into Virgil’s outstretched hand. “And whatever he’s having. Keep the change, bro,” he said, slapping the other boy on the shoulder before he strode away. He took a sugar packet from the condiment station.

“Large cinnamon oat milk latte with extra cinnamon-sugar on top,” the other boy said as Virgil kept his gaze affixed to the register screen.

“Eight-fifty,” Virgil muttered, unfolding the five and beginning to count out the coins. He felt the customer’s eyes on him, tried to count faster, lost his place, and started over. He tried to muster a haphazard comment about the nice weather, failed, and swallowed.

Thankfully, most of the coins were quarters, and there were still almost two dollars left over afterward, what seemed like an hour later, though it was really less than a minute. Virgil extended them and tried to drop them into the other boy’s hand neatly, but two quarters clanged onto the counter, and one went rolling in a dramatic run for escape.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” Virgil said, trying to slap the quarters under his hands. The other boy moved at the same time, and Virgil felt their hands brush together on the counter.

“No, no, it’s cool,” he said. “I was just going to make it a tip, anyway.” He let the coins clink into the jar.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s my brother’s money anyway. Thanks!” He raised his hand in a friendly salute before hoisting his backpack higher onto his shoulder and striding toward the table with the other two boys.

“Gosh, Roman, embarrassing the barista by dropping shit everywhere,” the brother said before emptying his sugar packet directly onto his tongue. Roman. Virgil would file that away. He started steaming the milk and pulling the espresso shots for Roman’s latte. It was a strange name, but better than thinking of “Cinnamon Guy.” Waiting for the shots, he poured coffee for the other two boys and set them on the counter, where they retrieved them.

He constructed the latte a little slower than usual, and noticed when he set the cup on the counter that Roman was facing away from him. Virgil mustered his voice and said, “Hey, I’ve got that latte here for you.”

Roman turned around. “Hey, thanks.”

“No problem.”

Roman turned away again, and as Virgil began searching for something to do with his hands, Logan emerged from the door to the back room.

“Busy?” he asked with a knowing grin. “Anything interesting while I was gone?”

“I’m going to brew fresh coffee.”

Logan smiled knowingly.

#sanders sides #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #ts sleep #studywritesstuff

210 notes · View notes

odd-i-writes · 3 years

Text

Scheduling Disaster

AO3

Peter had a pretty solid schedule, one that he did not like to mess up, please and thank you. Monday to Friday he had school, so from about 7:30 to 3, he was in class. Monday, Wednesdays, and Fridays he had Acadec practice after school until about 4 or 4:30. So, after school or AcaDec practice, Peter was free to patrol, which he did until he was expected home around 6 for dinner. Then, after dinner, he did homework, until about 9 or 10, when he’d patrol again. And on school nights his curfew was strictly at 12:30 AM. It used to be 12, but after missing it so many times he got Mr. Stark to convince Aunt May to extend it, just a little bit.

The only day in the school week that was different was Friday, which was when he’d patrol until about 5 or 6, before going to Mr. Stark’s Tower. Usually, they would have some lab time, eat dinner, and maybe watch a movie. Sometimes they would be in the lab all night, and sometimes they’d skip the lab all together and just watch a movie. Either way, Friday nights were dedicated as “Mr. Stark time.” He usually slept over in the Tower on those nights, mainly because Mr. Stark didn’t like the thought of Peter swinging home in the early hours of the morning, and Happy had woken up at 4 AM just to drive all across New York City one too many times. Either way, it meant that Saturdays were typically spent sleeping in, eating breakfast with Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark, spending some more time with the man, usually in the lab, and doing homework. Occasionally he’d hang out with Ned and, or, MJ on Saturdays too. Then, starting around 8 or 9 PM, he’d start his patrol. Saturdays were the only night where his curfew was mostly non-existent, as long as he texted Mr. Stark hourly updates. Technically it was 3 AM, and Peter was home in bed most Saturdays before that, but sometimes he stayed out later. What could he say? The city needed him. Sunday was dedicated for homework and spending time with Aunt May, and then patrolling at night with his usual curfew.

All this to say, Peter liked his schedule. Everything had a place and was timed out specifically so that he would have time for everything. Being a teenage superhero was hard, after all. Most people got that little chart that had “Social Life — Good Grades — Hobbies” on it and were told to pick two. Peter’s chart looked more like “Social Life — Good Grades — Extracurriculars — Mr. Stark/Lab Time — Spidermanning — Family” and yet was still told to only pick two. But two wasn’t enough for Peter, would never be enough, so he found a way to do it all.

But he wasn’t complaining, no not at all. His schedule worked, he got to do everything he needed. Sure, it left him a little tired, and sure, sometimes he’d after to eat meals while doing homework, or while patrolling, but it was worth it. There had been no problems with his schedule so far, even though Ned had once called it a little bit “too much”, and Mr. Stark had commented on it before, but nothing more than an “I’m worried you’re overworking yourself, Pete,” so he was fine.

After all, he’d always been like this, it wasn’t anything concerning. It’s just that, well, after the Vulture incident, and getting closer to Mr. Stark, and being in Junior year now, he was busier. And sure, maybe he had become more strict about his scheduling after The Incident, but it was just because he had more on his plate. That’s all. He just needed to make sure nothing, and no one, messed up his schedule. And no one would because everyone and their dog knew that Peter’s schedule was important.

That is, until he walked into the common room in the tower Friday evening.

A brunette was sitting on the couch, staring intensely at some game on his phone. He’d obviously not heard Peter walk into the room, or if he had, he was just ignoring him.

“Uh… hi?” Peter said, his voice shaking just a little.

The brunette looked up immediately, a brief emotion of something showing on his face before he just settled on a disgruntled look. “Who are you?” it came out as a sneer and Peter bristled. He said it as if Peter didn’t belong here, but it was Friday, it was his day to be here. His day to spend time with Mr. Stark. He opened his mouth to say something, to give a retort, or at least to give his name, but Mr. Stark chose that exact moment to walk in.

“Oh, shit, Pete. I forgot to text you,” he looked genuinely surprised that Peter was there and, ya. Wow. That hurt a bit.

“This is Harley, he’s going to be staying here for a couple of weeks. There were some family problems and—”

“Tony, who’s this?” the brunette—Harley—asked, shooting a quick glare to Mr. Stark. It was clear that he didn’t want Peter to know why he was here. And for the most part, Peter understood. After all, he was a stranger, and strangers shouldn’t know the happenings of your family. And yet, it was just another stab to the heart. This boy, who could have only been maybe a year older than Peter himself, seemed to be close to Mr. Stark, close enough that he called him “Tony”, and close enough that Mr. Stark even forgot about Peter.

“This is Peter, he’s—”

“His intern,” Peter interrupted, giving Tony a look that clearly said “no Spider-Man”, or at least, he hoped it said that.

Harley gives him a weird look, and Peter gets the immediate feeling that he’s not wanted there. He shifts uncomfortably and turns his attention back to Mr. Stark. For now, he didn’t have to worry about Harley.

“Uhm, so, lab night tonight is…?” Peter trails off.

“Uh, well, I have to get Harley here settled in, but once that’s done I don’t see why we can’t work in the lab once that's done,” Mr. Stark scratched his beard, peering down at the two teens.

Peter smiled, that was all he needed. He didn’t mind waiting a little bit before having lab-time. He could always work on homework in the meantime.

“Speaking of that, though, Pete. You can’t stay over tonight,” Peter’s head shot up, and Mr. Stark must have noticed the faint look of sadness that crossed his face, “Well you can, it’s just that. Well, I sort of told Harley he could sleep in your room tonight.”

This time Peter looked at Harley, and then back to Mr. Stark. He hoped his emotions weren’t showing too much, but he’d never been good at hiding them. Aunt May always said he wore his heart on his sleeve. But the idea that Mr. Stark not only forgot about his and Peter’s lab night, but he also gave Peter’s room to some… some stranger? It hurt. It felt like he was being replaced.

“You’d think that with what, over a hundred floors and probably more than twice as many rooms the old man would have a spare bedroom somewhere, but apparently not,” Harley grumbled, stretching out on the couch where he was sitting.

He was so comfortable here, arguably more comfortable than Peter was. Peter always held at least a little bit of respect for Mr. Stark and his home, no matter how much they bantered, but it seemed like Harley just knew Mr. Stark more. Peter pressed his lips together, he hated it.

“I don’t have guests often,” Mr. Stark shrugged, “What can I say.”

A tense silence fell over the three. Harley was looking at his phone, seemingly refusing to look at Peter, and Mr. Stark was eyeing both teens with a careful eye. Peter, on the other hand, stood in place, with his backpack hanging off one shoulder, and shifted awkwardly a couple of times. He didn’t know what to do, but it seemed like Harley didn’t want him here, and Mr. Stark was barely acknowledging him.

“Anyways, what do you want for dinner, kid?” Mr. Stark turned, heading towards a seat.

“I guess—”

“Pizza would be good, Tony.” Harley’s voice was loud. It demanded attention, unlike Peter’s which seemed to be getting quieter and quieter as the day went on. It was so easy when he was Spider-Man, but when he was Peter Parker it was so much harder to force people to see him, to listen to him. But he’d never felt like that with Mr. Stark before. Mr. Stark had always listened to Peter. Even before the Vulture Incident, Mr. Stark showed interest, even though he didn’t directly speak to Peter. Months later he found out that the man had listened to all of his phone messages, and had kept a close eye on Spider-Man to make sure he was safe. After the incident though, the man got closer to Peter and listened to him in person.

But now, with Harley here, he felt like it was hard to be heard again.

And, on top of that, Harley answered to Peter’s nickname. Mr. Stark always called Peter kid, and only Peter. And yet, Harley answered to the name too? It was petty and childish, but it made an anger boil in Peter’s stomach. He caught Harley’s eye again, and the other boy just rolled his eyes before sending a brief glare. Mr. Stark didn’t even notice the looks Harley was giving Peter, or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge them. Peter sighed, he could tell when he wasn’t wanted somewhere.

“Uhm, Mr. Stark?” Peter called out, just as the man was telling F.R.I.D.A.Y. to place a pizza order.

“Ya, kid?”

“I actually forgot that I uh, I’ve got a big essay due Monday that I need to work on. MJ said she’d help me, but I gotta call her tonight about it… so I’m uh. I’m gonna go? And skip the lab for this week,” he could feel himself starting to shake a little bit. He just wanted to go home, maybe go on another quick patrol, and then watch a movie with Aunt May.

Mr. Stark gave him a weird look, and for a moment Peter was wondering if the man could read his mind. He got more and more nervous the longer the silence went on, but he spared a look over to Harley, and the other boy was finally giving the barest of smiles. Apparently leaving was a good decision, then.

“Ya,” Mr. Stark finally spoke, “Sure kid. Just give me a text when you get home, ok?”

“‘Kay. Bye Mr. Stark,” he turned around heading towards the elevator, “By Harley.”

Peter swung home. It was the best way to get his mind off of things. He wasn’t necessarily looking to help people out, but he stopped by a few people who needed his help. There was nothing serious, but it made him feel better. Just something as simple as helping someone find their way around, or helping a young lady get to a subway station, anything like that, helped Peter feel a little lighter. The anger he felt at the Tower slowly seeped away, and soon he felt good enough to go home.

He entered through his bedroom window, changing into pyjamas, and sauntered into the kitchen of the apartment.

“Peter?” Aunt May’s voice rang with concern, “I wasn’t expecting you home tonight. Did something happen?”

She set down the knife she was holding and walked over to Peter, placing her hands on his cheeks as she checked him over for any injuries. Peter just shook his head and wrapped his arms around her.

“No, I just missed you,” he lied. He didn’t know how to tell Aunt May that Tony replaced him with some kid from Tennessee.

Aunt May hummed, brushing her hands through his hair. Peter could tell she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t press any further, so he appreciated that at least. They stayed like that for a few moments, Peter enjoying the warmth of the hug until—

“Aunt May? Whatever you had on the stove is on fire,” Peter mumbled.

“What!” And just like that, the hug was over. His aunt ran over to the stove, turning it off as quick as she could and fanning out the flames. “Why didn’t your… your… Peter Tingle—”

“Spidey Sense”

“Say anything? Can’t you tell when something is about to happen,” her voice cracked as she tried to get the flames under control.

“It doesn’t like… always pick up on everything, May. It just does, sometimes?” Peter shrugged, “I don’t really know how it works.”

“Well, figure it out would you? So we can avoid any more kitchen fires, at least.”

“I think we can do that if you just stop trying to cook,” Peter laughed.

“Hardy har, laugh it off, Pete. I guess we’re ordering in for the night, does Thai sound good?” There was soft clanging as she placed the pan in the sink, turning to give Peter a look that only Aunt May could.

“Ya,” Peter smiled, “That sounds good.”

He and Aunt May watched old rom coms all Friday night, and Peter chose to sleep in on Saturday, something he didn’t do very often. His plan for today was to get some homework done and then Ned and he were supposed to build the Lego Death Star before Peter went on patrol. That was all put to a stop when at 9 AM Peter rolled out of bed to the sound of his phone ringing.

“W’ss’p’” he mumbled, still half asleep.

“Are you asleep right now? At—oh, it’s 9 in the morning. But still, that’s pretty late for a boy genius like yourself,” Mr. Stark’s voice echoed.

“I’s Saturd’y M’ss’r St’rk,” Peter yawned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, trying to get his mind to clear up, “I get to sleep in.”

“Mhm, well, get that lazy Spider butt up,” Peter could practically hear Mr. Stark rolling his eyes, “We missed out on our lab night last night, so how do you feel about coming over today? You can even stay over tonight if you’d like, I got Harley set up in his own room now.”

Peter immediately perked up. Clearly, this meant that Mr. Stark still wanted him around, especially if he was reaching out to him first. It meant he’d have to cancel on Ned though, and he probably wouldn’t start his patrol until later, but… well, it was worth it.

“Ya, that sounds good Mr. Stark. I can be there at like, noon?” It would give him a couple of hours to eat breakfast, get started on his homework, and text Ned to cancel their plans. His friend would be disappointed, he was sure, but he’d understand. Peter would tell him they could do it next weekend. Plus, Mr. Stark didn’t mention anything about Harley, so Peter was hoping it would just be his mentor and him. It would give him an opportunity to work on some Spider-Man updates that he had thought of, plus he needed to fix some minor bugs.

It was nothing serious, but a couple of nights ago he had swung face-first into a wall after getting distracted, and it had hurt the coms in Peter’s suit. Mr. Stark knew about it and they were supposed to fix it last night until Harley happened, so Peter was sure it would get fixed tonight.

“Sound good, kid. Just head into the lab when you get here, I’ll have some lunch waiting for you.”

“See you then, Mr. Stark!”

Peter did a small flip off of his bed, excitement making him restless. He’d been so upset and worried that he was being replaced by Harley, but clearly, he wasn’t! Mr. Stark obviously still wanted him around. He popped his head out of his bedroom door, shouting out “Aunt May! I’m going over to the Tower in a couple of hours!”

Aunt May turned from her place on the couch, looking up at Peter with a raised eyebrow. “It’s Saturday,” she said as if that was an explanation for her confusion. And, in her defense, it was. Peter was only ever at the Tower on Saturdays if he woke up there in the first place, he rarely went there if he had slept at home.

“Ya, but with our lab night getting canceled last night Mr. Stark wanted to do it today, so I’ll probably be there all day, or at least until I go out on patrol,” Peter shrugged, trying to play it off as no big deal. But Aunt May looked at him with an all-knowing look and Peter was sure she knew more than she was letting on. “Well, as long as you get your homework finished it's fine,” was all she said.

Peter nodded, quickly going back to his desk and getting to work. There wasn’t much to do and he was sure he could finish most of it, at least, before he had to get to Mr. Stark’s.

Peter may have overestimated his ability to get his work done in time by just a bit. He had been planning on taking the subway to the Tower but found himself in need of swinging, and even when he swung all the way there he was fifteen minutes late. Not the worst, but he felt like it was different today. Different because now Mr. Stark had another “kid” he could work with.

He changed quickly in an alley outside the Tower and entered through the backdoor as usual. There was a happy skip to Peter's step as he got into Mr. Stark’s personal elevator, with his bag slung on one shoulder. Despite the fact that this messed up his schedule, Peter was just glad he was actually going to spend some time with Mr. Stark. His only hope was that Harley wouldn't be there.

“Good afternoon Mr. Parker,” F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke, “Would you like me to bring you up to Boss’ lab?”

“Yes please, F.R.I.”

The elevator was small and fast, and despite the fact that Mr. Stark’s lab was on the 90-something-th floor it only took a matter of seconds for Peter to arrive. He walked through the halls with ease, his muscle memory bringing him straight to the lab. There was a slight tingle from his Spidey Sense, but Peter paid it no mind. It was probably because he had been so upset when he was in the Tower last night. Plus, his Spidey Sense was just like… anxiety, but for superheroes. He put his hand against the sensor and the doors opened for him.

“Hey Mr. Star—” he froze.

There was a lanky, tall body sitting at his spot. At his desk.

“Hey,” the other boy mumbled, not lifting his head from where he was staring at something on the— no, on Peter’s —desk. “The old man’s gonna be back in a few, he said he had something to do.”

“He’s not that old,” Peter mumbled, feeling the sudden need to stick up for his mentor. He knew or at least had a feeling that Harley was just teasing Mr. Stark. It seemed like it was their dynamic, but still. “F.R.I. could you let Mr. Stark know that I’m here, please?”

“Right away, Mr. Parker,” she replied.

“You’re uh,” Peter shifted uncomfortably, “You’re at my desk.” There was a bit to his tone, one that he hadn’t done on purpose, but he didn’t correct himself.

“What? Are you gonna go cry about it to mommy?” Harley finally lifted his head from whatever was so important on the desk, but only to roll his eyes, “I don’t see your name written on it anywhere.”

That’s because it doesn’t need to be, Peter wanted to say, because only he and Mr. Stark went into this lab.

But instead, he just shrugged, “It’s where I work,” was all he could say. The anger was starting to boil in his stomach again, and Peter could feel the tinge of… something. Jealousy? But that wasn’t like Peter. He never got jealous. Uncle Ben taught him better than that.

And yet, he couldn’t think of another word for the emotion he was feeling towards Harley. Harley was replacing him. He took Peter’s “Mr. Stark Time” away from him, he disrupted Peter’s carefully planned out schedule, he took Peter’s nickname, took his spot in the lab, and took his room. Mr. Stark was replacing Peter with Harley, so ya. He was jealous. Sue him.

“God, are you such a goody-two-shoes that you have to come into work on the weekend? Can’t you just like, go home? Tony has me here right now, so he doesn’t need any more help,” Harley gives a glare before going back to whatever he was working on.

Peter bristled, opening his mouth to retort back. But he didn’t know what to say. That he and Mr. Stark were close? Obviously not close enough for Mr. Stark to remember when they were meeting, or be there on time, or mention that there would be some other kid interrupting their time together.

And speaking of the devil, right at that moment Mr. Stark walked in. There was a tense silence in the air, and Mr. Stark looked back and forth between the two teens. Just like Aunt May, Peter had a feeling that Mr. Stark knew more than he was letting onto. But then, the man just sighed, took off his iconic sunglasses, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“You two catching up with each other?”

“Uh, ya, I guess,” Peter shrugged, hovering awkwardly over his desk. He had things in it, important things. Spider-Man things. Things he didn’t want some stranger looking through. He shot Mr. Stark a look, trying to convey exactly that with just his face. He furrowed his eyebrows, sharply pointing his head to the desk, and luckily, Mr. Stark nodded.

“Hey, uh, kid,” And fuck. There was that name again. This time Peter knew it wasn’t directed at him, Mr. Stark was looking directly at Harley, “That’s Pete’s desk, and he’s kind of got a system, so why don’t you move to the end of it, gives you both room to work there, ok? We’ll get another desk set up soon.”

Harley raised his head, huffing slightly, but he moved over wordlessly. Or, almost wordlessly. If Peter didn’t have super hearing he wouldn’t have heard it, and Mr. Stark definitely didn’t hear it. “Neurotic much, eh?” Harley mumbled under his breath.

Peter tensed. Harley was treating him no better than how Flash did, and it was causing him to be on edge. His Spidey Sense wouldn’t stop tingling. It wasn’t telling him that there was an immediate danger, but it was like it knew that Harley didn’t like him.

Nonetheless, Peter sat down at his spot, making sure to sit at the opposite end of the long table, just so that Harley wouldn’t be able to see what he was working on. He guessed that he and Mr. Stark would have to wait to repair the coms in his suit. They couldn’t exactly pull it up in front of Harley. Because of Secret Identities and all that. But that was ok. Peter could work on updating his web formula.

He’d had a few ideas on how to improve it. One, he’d really like to make a set of quick-dissolving webs, because 2 hours was sometimes a bit much. He also wanted to see if he could develop his webs to be able to cover injuries. Right now he was able to do it on himself, but he knew that it had chemicals in it that would be unsafe for broken skin. The only reason he used it on himself was because of his healing factor; it wouldn’t be able to do any lasting damage. But it could probably cause light chemical burns on regular people.

He brought out some scraps on paper, as well as a sheet that had his original web formula on it, and got to work. It was silent for the most part, Peter usually preferred to work in silence, only chatting with Mr. Stark on and off. But today Peter didn’t say a word. Even Harley was quiet for the first little while. But then, he kept speaking up, asking Mr. Stark to come over and look over his work, or making little quips. Peter kept his head down, feeling more like a stranger in the lab than he ever had before. It was hard, he didn’t always know what the other two were talking about, and the one time he had tried to join the conversation he had just gotten a small glare from Harley.

So, Peter just sighed and kept his head down and focused on his work. He was making good progress on the equations so he’d be able to test it out soon. He worked on his webbing so often that it was practically second nature at this point. Slowly the hours ticked by, and Peter found himself ready to test it out. The first one to test out was the quick dissolving webs because Peter felt like it was most important. He was really starting to get complaints from the police who kept finding criminals webbed up to the wall. Apparently, it was hard to get out of. Who knew.

“Mr. Stark, do you think you could come and check this out for a second?” Peter asked, ignoring the fact that the man was with Harley. Surely he could spare a couple of minutes.

“Just a minute Pete,” the man hummed, scratching his beard as he peered down at Harley’s work.

So Peter waited, and waited, and waited. In reality, he probably only waited about 15 minutes, but it felt like ages as he watched his mentor interact with Harley. Finally, Peter stood up and grabbed a couple of vials and chemicals from the shelf, sighed a bit as he did. And no, he was not pouting at all, and if F.R.I.D.A.Y said anything different he was going to reboot her.

Eventually, Mr. Stark comes over, just as Peter is setting everything down at his desk. He gives Peter a look that distinctly says “really?” and Peter just shrugs. It wasn’t like Harley paid him enough attention to really get that he was working on Spider-Man stuff.

“Looks good, Pete, go ahead and move to testing it out,” the man ruffles his head and Peter shoots him a grateful smile.

There were so many emotions going on in Peter’s head, and he really didn’t know what to think, but he was happy to get some attention from Mr. Stark. Maybe he really was just jealous of Harley. He wasn’t used to sharing Mr. Stark’s attention, and it was a lot to get used to. And yet, even with that knowledge, Peter couldn’t make the burning anger go away.

And, Peter couldn’t say he felt good about his current emotions, but when Harley’s head shot up when Mr. Stark praised him he couldn’t help but feel a little smug.

He was here in the lab for a reason, after all. Mr. Stark would never work with an idiot weekly.

Well, debatable, because Peter knew he was kind of an idiot sometimes, but that was more street smarts. He knew that when it came to science he was nowhere near being an idiot.

Just as the silence was coming over the three of them again, Mr. Stark’s phone rang.

“Rhodey? Ya, no I’m free, what's up?” Mr. Stark called out, probably louder than he needed to, “Wait one sec.”

“Hey, you two, I’m just going to head to the common room for a second, you’re good here by yourselves?” He gave them both a suspicious glare, but both boys nodded, “Ok good, don’t die, have fun, all that jazz. I’ll be back in a minute.”

And then he left.

And Peter knew what the man was doing. He was never the most subtle person in the room. Or in the world, probably. But that was what made him Tony Stark, and it was one of the qualities Peter admired in Mr. Stark. He was always confident and sure about his decisions. Even if that decision was forcing two teenagers to spend some time together, despite the fact that they clearly didn’t like each other. Plus, it helped that he had super hearing, so he could hear Mr. Stark say, “Rhodey, I just don’t know what to do with them” as he walked away from the lab.

“God,” Harley bemoaned, getting up to walk closer to Peter, “You’re such a pest, you know that? Like you literally work here every week, but I can't even get a full day to hang out with Tony? You’ve always got to pop up in one way or another, fucking annoying.”

Peter forced his lips together, trying to hold in an outburst that was surely going to happen, and just shrugged. “It’s my work, I like it,” he said through clenched teeth, “And you’re the one who showed up during our workday, that’s not my fault.”

“Can’t you just like, leave him alone for fucks sake. He’s probably annoyed too. Like, just go home,” Harley sighed, and Peter’s Spidey Sense immediately perked up. Something was wrong.

He looked up at Harley just as he was pouring a vial of chemicals into his web mixture, peering at the other boy to see what was causing his Spidey Sense to go off. But the brunette was just standing there with his arms crossed, and— was that? Was that a pout? Weird.

But Peter didn’t get to think about it anymore, because before he knew it his body was moving without him thinking about it. He could feel the heat against his back as he grabbed Harley’s arm and shoved him down, blocking the other boy with his own body. There was a loud BOOM, and the room shook slightly, and for a moment Peter was sure it was going to collaps—

No, he thought, don’t think about that right now.

And it was over just as fast as it had happened. He felt some minor burns on his back and arms, but nothing feels too amiss, other than the adrenaline that was currently pumping through his body. So Peter took a chance, and stood up, quickly looking around the room and down at Harley, who was now sitting on the floor. The other boy looked fine, though there were hints of a mild burn on his right arm. But the lab, on the other hand… well it was a mess.

The web formula had clearly exploded, and there were sticky webs all over the room. The vial he had been mixing it in was broken, and there was a small fire over the table, which Dum-E quickly came to extinguish.

Peter just looked around with wide eyes, his hands shaking from the adrenaline, as Harley looked up at him with equally wide, and concerned eyes.

“Fuck—” Peter began to sigh, but he didn't get to finish the sentiment before the doors to the lab were swung open.

“What the hell happened in here?” Mr. Stark burst through the lab, sounding just as out of breath as Peter felt. His eyes held a fire in them, but he looked equally angry, concerned, and disheveled.

And Peter doesn’t remember a time he’s been this afraid to face Mr. Stark. Probably not since the Ferry incident. But he fucked up this time. He hadn’t been paying attention when he was grabbing chemicals, nor pouring them, and he caused an explosion. He was just happy it was minor.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, I got distracted,” Peter mumbled his head down as he refused to face his mentor.

“Distracted?” the man shouted, and Peter was almost certain that he was angry enough to breathe fire, “You know you can’t get distracted in the lab, and especially not when you’re handling chemicals Peter! You know better than that!”

“I know, I jus—”

“No, Pete. The adult is talking now, listen,” Mr. Stark put up a hand, and for the first time, Peter looked at the man’s face. He looked angry but also concerned. “If you were tired or hungry or something you should have let me know, I wouldn’t have made you come in today, but you cannot, be distracted. What if there had been a bigger explosion Peter? What if people got hurt? Were you not thinking at all?”

“I’m sorry,” Peter’s voice quivered.

And at that, Mr. Stark paused, took a breath, and ran a hand through his hair. He looked calmer, and Peter was sure he was going to walk over and tell Peter that he was sorry for yelling. But instead—

“Harley,” Mr. Stark spoke, and Peter’s shoulders deflated, “Go up to MedBay. I want to talk with Peter alone for a second.”

And for once, the brunette left the pair without saying anything. Apparently, the trick to get Harley to be quiet was to cause a minor explosion. Who knew.

Mr. Stark waited a few moments before turning back to Peter. It was clear he was still mad, but Peter didn’t think he was going to yell anymore.

“Peter, what were you doing? How could you get so distracted that you poured the wrong chemical? What if you had gotten hurt?”

“I heal fast, Mr. Stark,” And, ok ya. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say to the man who was clearly concerned about him. But it was true! The burns would be gone by tomorrow.

Mr. Stark just sighed and ran a hand down his face. He took a few deep breaths, and Peter instantly recognized it as a tactic for the man to hold in his anger.

“Fine then,” it clearly didn’t work well enough, as Mr. Stark snapped at Peter with such venom that the boy took a visible step back, “What if Harley got hurt? He doesn’t have any superpowers, Pete, he can’t heal like you can. Sure, you can’t get hurt, but he could have gotten really hurt. If it was worse, he could have died, Peter.”

And at that, Peter’s eyes welled up with tears. Mr. Stark was clearly concerned about Harley, and clearly mad at Peter. Did he not see that it was the other boy who put Peter so on edge, so tense, and that was why Peter made the mistake?

“I’m… Mr. Stark, I didn’t mean—”

“I know. But Peter, this can’t happen. You’re going to have to go home for the day, and we’ll see about next Friday. I haven’t decided if you get lab privileges or not.”

Tears began to fall, but Mr. Stark either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He was quick to turn on his heels and walk towards MedBay, where Harley was. Because of course. Peter was beginning to feel like a fool. It was obvious that Mr. Stark and Harley were close, and were “connected” as Harley had said earlier. And Peter? Well Mr. Stark only spoke to Peter in the first place because of Spider-Man, not because of Peter Parker. Sure, Mr. Stark clearly cared for him, and wanted him around, but not in the same way as Harley. Peter was never invited to stay at the Tower for more than a night, not like Harley, and Mr. Stark was clearly more concerned about Harley’s safety than Peter’s.

(That’s not quite right though, is it? Somewhere deep down Peter knew he was just getting worked up, and he was just overly anxious and jealous. He knew Mr. Stark cared for him just as much as always, and he knew that Mr. Stark liked both Peter and Spider-Man. But right now? Right now Peter was too upset to think rationally. Later, he might look back on it and realize that it was a mixture of being jealous, angry, and probably the pain that came with the burns.)

Peter walked to the elevator, his head hanging in shame, as tears spilled out of his eyes. It was just a stupid mistake, but Mr. Stark was so mad at him, and only cared about Harley being ok. He sniffed, rubbing his eyes as F.R.I took him down to the lobby. “Take care, Mr. Parker,” and Peter swore he could hear a hint of concern in the AI’s voice. He shot a small smile up to the ceiling but said nothing more before leaving.

He took a deep breath once outside, trying to get in as much fresh air as he could in New York City. He walked as quickly as he could, his mind already made up about what he was going to do. He had planned to patrol after lab night anyway, and sure he was a couple of hours early and hadn’t had dinner yet, but it was fine. He’d stop by a hot dog truck or something during the patrol.

So Peter ran into an alleyway, hopping as he kicked off his shoes and changed out of his civilian clothes. Going on patrol would be a good way to use his built-up adrenaline, anyway. He could use any lasting anger and jitteriness to help people. So once he was in his suit, and his bag was webbed up high on a while, Peter got to swinging.

It was still rather early in the night, only about 5 or 6 PM, but it was the end of November so it was already dark, but even so, he wasn’t expecting much. There was a young teen that was trying to rob a small grocer early into the patrol, but all it took was Spider-Man showing his face, giving a wave and a short “Hey kid, I’ll buy that for you,” for the kid to back off. Peter didn’t really have money to be wasting, but he figured the young kid needed it. Plus, it was just a sandwich that was a couple of dollars, it wouldn’t kill Peter to lose that amount of money.

Peter swung around for another hour, and nothing much happened. He stopped a group of bullies and walked the poor kid home, but other than that Peter just swung and kept an eye out. It was when Peter was sitting on the edge of a roof, peering down onto the streets and keeping a careful eye out for any trouble that he heard it;

“Hey! Fuck off!” and even though Peter had only known the guy for just over a day, he already knew his voice like the back of his hand.

It was hard to forget the voice of the guy who was replacing you.

(But he wasn’t, and Peter knew that. Or would know that, once he calmed down.)

And for a brief second, a second that Peter was not proud of, he hesitated. It wasn’t like he didn’t like Harley, sure, he wasn’t the guy’s biggest fan, but he didn’t deserve to be attacked. But, shit. Really? Really? The guy that's been at Peter’s throat all day, the guy that Peter was mad at, is getting attacked and now Peter has to go save him. Because of course, he does.

So Peter swings down, climbing down the wall straight above Harley. There was a guy with mangly blonde hair and a hand that was roughly holding Harley against a wall. When Peter looked closer he could see a gun in the guy’s other hand, which was being pushed right into Harley’s stomach.

“Listen, I literally, don’t have anything, man,” Harley said, and Peter could tell he was trying to stay brave, trying to put on a show, but he could hear the shake in his voice. And wow, Harley reminded Peter of Mr. Stark.

“Look at your fucking shoes, your jacket, I know money when I see one,” the man sneered, shoving his gun further into Harley’s stomach, “So pay u—”

“Hey man! Stealing isn’t nice!” Peter chose that moment to jump down, giving the man a kick to the shoulder to get him to back off Harley.

“Fuck off bug boy,” the man spat, trying to take a step closer to Harley again, but Peter stood directly between the two.

“I feel like purposefully calling me by the wrong name is just rude, I mean come on! I have a spider on my chest,” Peter rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in the air for good measure, “But if that's how it's gonna be I’m gonna call you Mr. dumbface, cause really your face is annoying me right now,”

There was silence.

“Ok, so I’m a little out of it today, but a little laugh would’ve been nice,” he turned back to Harley, who was staring at him with a slightly gaped mouth.

“You… you’re… Really?” was all Harley stuttered. And, ok, ya. Maybe Peter should have seen it coming that he wasn’t the only one who could recognize voices.

“Listen we’ll talk about it later, ok, lemme just web this gu—”

“I’m not going back to jail!” the guy yelled, suddenly a lot more defensive than he had been before. And Peter didn’t like that. A guy with a gun? Easy-peasy, just had to disarm him. Usually, they didn’t even want to use their weapon. But an angry, defensive guy with a gun? Well, that was significantly more difficult to deal with.

Peter had a split second of warning when his Spidey Sense went off. It wasn’t enough, he knew it wasn’t. But his instinct kicked in and he grabbed Harley’s arm, shoving him to the ground just like he had done earlier today.

And really, Peter needed to stop with constant, daily, accidents. This was getting a bit much.

There were three shots, the first two went into Peter's stomach, and the second in his right shoulder. He grunted but didn’t fall. He gave the guy a good punch in the face, knocking him down to the ground.

“That…” Peter grunted, kicking the gun away, “That was rude.”

He quickly webbed the guy up, sparing no amount of webs to ensure that he would stay on the ground for a while. He stumbled back, placing a hand over his stomach as he tried to assess the damage. He didn’t think the bullets hit anything important, but he also couldn’t tell if they were still in him or not. What he did know is that he was bleeding fast.

A hand landed on Peter’s shoulder, and his first instinct was to attack. His Spidey Senses were going haywire, everything felt like a threat. He went to spin and web up whoever was grabbing him, but he was beginning to feel dizzy and practically tripped over his own two feet. And fuck, he felt like shit.

“Hey! Hey! It’s me, it’s me. It’s Harley,” the brunette said, leading Peter to sit on the ground, away from the mugger.

“You’re… You’re bleeding, like a lot. What… What do we do?” and this was the first time Peter ever heard Harley sound unsure of himself.

Peter’s first instinct was to ask Karen to call Mr. Stark, so he did exactly that. But his mind was starting to get foggy, and it felt like there were cotton balls in his mouth. Every word was a struggle, and every breath hurt, and fuck he just wants to be at the Tower so Mr. Stark and Dr. Cho can patch him up again.

“Kaaareeenn,” Peter mumbled, each syllable feeling like another stab to his stomach, “Karen… Kareeeen,” He kept calling out for her, but the AI is strangely quiet.

There’s a reason she doesn't answer though, and Peter knows it… but he can’t remember. His brain is too foggy, and he doesn’t really know where he is anymore, or who he wants. He just knows he needs Karen to answer him. So he kept mumbling her name.

“Oh my god, I think I broke Tony’s genius child,” Harley mumbled, and yes! Yes! That’s who Peter needs right now!

“Mi’ss’r… Mi’ss’r S’rk,” he stuttered out, nodding at Harley, who just stares at him with wide and confused eyes. Peter just continues, “Miiiis’errrrr S’arrrrk. Call. Call, Mi’ss’r S’rk. Karen, Kaareen, call Missss’r S’rk.”

And he can hear Harley mumbling above him, something about “breaking a superhero”, and how “Tony is going to kill him”, but he doesn’t really care, but wow, his stomach hurts. And his shoulder hurts. And how much blood has he lost? A lot, probably. Somewhere, deep down, Peter knew that he only got this foggy, this out of it, when there was internal bleeding. Which, ya, he didn’t like that he knew that, but what could he do? His brain wasn’t working fast enough right now though to be able to relay that information to Harley.

“Ok.. Ok… Get him to Tony, he can help. Ya, ya. That’s a good idea. Phone… Phone… ok. Ok, that’s fine, no phone. We’ll just walk back, totally fine. Just gonna walk back to Stark Towers with a bleeding … Spider… guy,” Harley kept mumbling and it was starting to get on Peter’s nerves. Why wasn’t Karen answering him?

(Because... his mind supplied unhelpfully, you were supposed to fix the coms with Mr. Stark but you never did.)

And suddenly he was being lifted up or at least helped up. “C’mon, C’mon. I need your help here, you gotta walk with me, we’re not that far from the Tower, just walk with me,” Harley kept speaking, and when Peter whined (no he didn’t, he’ll deny that if you ever ask him about it), Harley made sure to speak quieter.

Peter doesn’t remember a lot about the whole trip, but he does remember tripping and falling a couple of times, and Harley telling people to move out of their way. “Just, just a few more steps, we’re almost there and then Tony’ll fix you up, he’ll fix you up, don’t worry,” at this point, Harley was talking more for himself than he was for Peter. Peter was barely listening.

Peter doesn’t remember being taken up to the MedBay, nor does he remember Mr. Stark walking in with Dr. Cho, and he definitely doesn’t remember the surgery that was performed to get the bullets out of his stomach. Apparently, the one in the shoulder was a clean shot. He was informed of everything a few hours after he woke up.

But when Peter first woke up he looked around the room, ignoring the familiar itch of an IV in his arm. Mr. Stark was asleep in a chair in the corner. For the most part he looked calm, collected, even somehow bored in his sleep, but Peter could practically feel the tension seeping off him. Then, there was Harley, who was sitting right next to Peter’s bed, and wide awake.

“Uh… hi,” was all Harley said.

“F.R.I, can you turn down the lights please?” was all Peter had the energy to say at first. It was too bright. It was always too bright in the MedBay. Immediately, the lights turned down by 50%, and Peter mumbled out a thanks.

“Are you ok?” he turned to Harley, looking over the boy to see if there were any injuries. The only one he could see is the mild burn from earlier that day.

“Am I— am I ok? Dude, you got shot three times while wearing a red and blue spandex suit! What the fuck,” Harley looked shocked, maybe even a little angry, “God, I hate New York. You’re all so weird here, what the fuck is even happening?”

“I dunno, this feels like a normal Saturday night to me,” Peter shrugged, trying to make light of the situation. He didn’t like that the other boy was concerned over him.

“Normal? God, I hate it here,” Harley ran a hand through his hair, huffing out a laugh. There was a beat of silence before Peter broke out into a choked laugh too. Soon, the two boys were hardly able to contain themselves, Harley was doubled over laughing, and Peter was leaning back. Neither of them really knew what they were laughing about, but they both couldn’t get over the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

“It’s actually early Sunday morning, now,” Peter’s laughter got caught off, and he snapped his neck to look at the man in the corner.

Now that Mr. Stark’s eyes were open and aware he could see that they were a little red and a little swollen. But Peter was more focused on the whole “Sunday” thing.

“Aunt May!” he bolted up from bed, ready to get dressed right that minute.

“Has already been contacted,” Mr. Stark sighed, “Really, who do you take me for?”

Peter didn’t answer, he just shrugged and continued to look at his sheets. He was still feeling shitty about the explosion, and he didn’t know how to face the man. At least, though, his mind had cleared up from his previous anger and jealousy. Obviously, Mr. Stark cared about Peter and wanted him around, the tear marks on his face proved it.

“Listen, both of you...” Mr. Stark trailed off, and both boys kept their eyes on the man, waiting for him to speak. “I’m sorry I blew up at both of you today,” and at that Peter sent Harley a look, who just shrugged and mouthed ‘I’ll tell you later’, “I shouldn’t have yelled, but honestly? You’re both annoying little shits, and you worried me.”

“Peter’s the worse one,” Harley muttered.

“Says the guy who got mugged on his second night in New York,” Peter shot a teasing look.

“Hey! Tony told me to go for a walk! What was I supposed to do?”

“Bring your phone for one,” Mr. Stark chimed in.

Both boys looked at him sharply, “We’re not talking to you.”

There was a beat of silence before the two teens broke out into laughter again, and Mr. Stark just sighed.

“I can’t believe I’ve spent two days trying to get you two to like each other, and all it took was a mugging, getting shot 3 times, and getting both of you to save each other,” he rolled his eyes, “I’ll write that down for next time.”

“To be fair, you maybe should have warned both of us that you were going to try to force a new friendship,” Peter mentioned.

“Don’t be too hard on him, Old man is old enough that he’s probably got dementia or some shit,” Harley chipped in.

“He does forget things a lot, one time he forgot to wear pants to a meeting,”

“That was one time!”

“Ya, ok Mr. Stark.”

“My God, between the two of you, I’ve created a monster,” Mr. Stark sighed as Harley cackled, “Go ahead. Laugh all you want. I’ll be in the kitchen, eating normal human food that a certain Mr. Parker won’t get until the literal holes in his stomach are healed. And Harley? I just don't want to feed you, so suffer.”

And with that, the man left. Both teens laughed briefly, rolling their eyes at their mentor.

“Listen, I’m sorry I was hard on you earlier,” Harley finally spoke up, “I was just excited to spend time with Tony. I haven’t seen him in, jeez, like four years? And it was a bit of a shock to find out I had to share him.”

Peter shook his head, “No, I’m sorry too. I wasn’t very welcoming to you, and I definitely didn’t make any effort.”

There was a silence, an awkward one that Peter wanted to fill.

“I uh, well. I don’t really have a lot of men in my life, not a lot of father figures I guess. I had my Uncle Ben, but he died… a while ago. And well, Mr. Stark stepped up a few months ago, and I guess I kinda latched on a bit too much. I was jealous when you came,” he shrugged, whispering the last part.

Because, God, it was so hard to admit to someone that you were jealous of them. But it had to be done, especially if Harley was staying at the Tower for a couple weeks.

“Jealous of me?” Harley sounded shocked.

“Ya, I mean. He like, didn’t even text me to cancel our lab night, and he gave you my room, and you were with us for our lab day, and we didn’t even do our movie night. I thought you were replacing me, which is stupid, I know now,

“Dude. Tony’s known I was coming here two weeks ahead of time and literally forgot to set me up a room. I showed up at the front door and he was still shocked. He didn’t forget to text you, he forgot I was coming,”

“Oh.”

“Ya, oh. And, well, I’m only here because of family stuff,” Harley paused, and Peter could see that he was debating whether or not he should continue.

“My sister got sick. Cancer, they said, so she and my mom had to go to the hospital while she gets treatment. And my mom, well, she didn’t want me home alone, and she knew she couldn’t really take care of me and my sick sister. So Tony said I could stay here for a few weeks until they were back home. So I wasn’t here to replace you, I’m just a charity case,” and Peter’s heart practically broke at the way Harley’s shoulders sagged. He knew that feeling.

Mr. Stark wasn’t the best at letting people know his true intentions, and it was easy to feel like you were a burden to the man. Peter should know, he was President of feeling that way.

“Harley, listen. I’ve only known Mr. Stark for like, a few months now. Less than a year,” he started, “But I know for a fact that he doesn’t let just anyone stay in the Tower. He only lets people he really, really, cares about in here. And his lab! Plus I see how he talks with you! You’ve got him wrapped around your finger,”

“Says you,”

“Well then the two of us together? We can get anything we want,” and that made Harley laughed.

They settled into another silence, this one much less awkward. The only sounds were of their breathing and of the machines beeping.

“So, uh, Spider, eh?” Harley raised an eyebrow, “Are you some sort of bug superhero?”

“I’m Spider-Man,” Peter answered incredulously, “Haven’t you heard of me?”

“Uh, no?”

“The Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man?” Harley shook his head, “Crap, I’ve gotta start working outside of New York, I guess.”

“So are you a mutant?”

“What?” Peter laughed, “Nah, until about a year ago I was totally normal, less than even. Asthmatic, and I needed glasses, and honestly a strong gust of wind could’ve knocked me over.”

“What changed?”

“Radioactive spider,” Peter shrugged as if it answered everything.

Harley barked out a laugh, “What?”

“It bit me, now I’m like, part spider I guess.”

“Shit… That’s wild,”

“Ya,”

And with that, both boys were silent again, this time both of their breathing began getting shallower and shallower, and before they knew it they were passed out. The last thing Peter heard was Mr. Stark walking by the room again,

“Monsters, the two of them.”

#my fics #irondad #spiderson #irondad fic #spiderman fic #peter parker fic #harley keener #jealousy fic #peter parker #tony stark

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atiny-orbit1219 · 4 years

Text

I Am Not Spiderman

*Pairing: Spiderman Mark lee

*Genre: Fluff

*Plot idea: (This master piece was inspired by my friend @sharklee127‘s imagine about Spiderman Mark and I wanted to make it into a longer fic!) Mark lived a painfully boring life. Nothing special ever happened to him, he even resorted to joining Yearbook club so he could at least observe more interesting lives. But all of that changed when the new girl shows up and Mark gets lost during his tour of Osborn Laboratories.

*Word count: 3,600

*Warnings: Cussing, cute baby Mark

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You first met Mark in the crowded hallways of your high school. You had just moved from your small town home in Upstate New York all the way to Queens because your father had received a once in a lifetime position at Osborn Laboratories. You were hesitant about moving and leaving all of your friends and your old school behind but like the supportive daughter you were you transferred to Midtown High “school in Forest Hill, Queens with a smile on your face. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that you were also given an internship at Osborn Laboratories and that would look excellent on your college applications, whatever it was you soon found yourself in one of the largest schools you have ever seen. Thousands of students must have to attend here which made you slightly nervous, how were you going to make friends when there are so many people to get to know at once? Internship… remember the internship. So you walked into the building with your head held high and your earbuds pushed snugly in your ears as you used your music to drown out the unfamiliar sound of hundreds of kids screaming at each other.

You got a few looks from the people who realized they’ve never seen you before but the majority looked right through you, and one boy even tried to walk right through you. “Oh my god, I am so sorry!” The stranger rushed out as you fell to the floor. His books in hand followed in suit, the hardcovers making an obnoxiously loud sound. “It’s okay.” You muttered, letting out a soft sigh before leaning forward to help the clumsy boy pick up the textbooks. “Are you okay?” He asked, extending a hand for you to take, which you did; you had to make friends somehow. You just nod at his question, handing him the books with a small smile. “Oh, Thanks… Are you new here? I’ve never seen you before.” You look up at the lanky boy, his hair was so fluffy you had to restrain yourself from reaching out and seeing if it’s as soft as it looks. He wore thick black-framed glasses that had their fair share of tape holding them together, so he was always this clumsy. “How could you tell? There’s like a million kids here.” You exaggerate, your smile growing. He was kind of cute.

“Try a little over three-thousand. And when you walk the same halls for three years you start to pick up on faces, even the people you’ve never talked to. Plus it does help that I work with the yearbook.” He was shy when he spoke, his voice quiet and he avoided any form of eye contact, he had the habit of scratching behind his neck every few seconds but yet you were still intrigued. “A little over three-thousand is a lot compared to the school I used to go to.” you joke with a small smile. “I’m Y/N, I know its a bit sudden but you’re the first person I’ve talked to here, do you think you can show me around? I have my schedule but it makes absolutely zero sense.” You were hopeful, maybe you didn’t have to be the new girl who got lost on her first day. “I’m Mark! And despite the fact that I talk too much sometimes and I fall a lot, I’m a pretty damn good tour guide.” You let out a small laugh and hand him your schedule. “Then lead the way Mark.”

“Looks like you and I have Chemistry together first period!” The boy said with an excited smile, “And we’re in the same lunch block! You can sit with me if you’d like, I’m sure Ned won’t mind.” Mark rambled and you just listened, nodding your head along. You found the nerdy boy quite amusing, and really, really cute. “Sure! Sitting with you sounds a lot more appealing than sitting by myself.” You reply, giving the dark-haired boy a smile, which he returned. “And we have arrived! This is the Chemistry lab.” He opened the door to the lab and led you into the room, “We do experiments Tuesday Thursday, and lectures Monday Wednesday, and a free workday on Friday.” Mark brings you to one of the many lab tables and takes a seat, you follow, sitting on the stool next to his. “Oh, cool! I like chemistry.. And just science in general.” You confide, excited to see what experiments you would be doing in this class. “Really!? Me too!” There it is… another one of his perfect smiles. You admire it while it lasts but his attention is diverted from you to the teacher walking in.

Lunchtime has finally rolled around. You didn’t know exactly where the cafeteria was, but your plan was to just follow everyone else after the bell rang. But it turned out you didn’t have to do that because as soon as you walk out the door of your AP Calculus class you are met with Mark leaning against the lockers. “Figured you didn’t know where the lunchroom is.” He said simply. Just the small action sent the long-dormant butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. “How’d you guess?” You teased, falling into step with the taller boy as you two walked down the crowded halls together once more. “Just a gut feeling.” he teased back, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“So how are your other classes? Probably not as interesting without me right?” You playfully roll your eyes as you sit down at the lunch table in the far back, the previous mentioned Ned was not there yet so it was just you and Mark. “Oh of course, without Mark Lee my life is just dim hues of grey.” You say dramatically. Mark chuckled and rolled his eyes back. “Maybe you should drop the whole science thing and become a theater major… Drama queen.” You scoff but before you could give your snarky reply someone joined the two. “Oh Hey! Ned this is Y/N, Y/N this is Ned, my best friend.” You smile up at the new addition to the table, giving him a small wave. “Nice to meet you!” you say sweetly before reaching into your bag and pulling out your lunchbox. It was only your first day and you made two new friends… Success.

“Dad I think you’re more nervous than me.” Today was your first day for your internship at Osborn Laboratories and your dad was driving you to the large building. “What? No! I’m just excited! You and I are working together, it’s like every day is bring your daughter to work day.” You smile at his enthusiasm, humming along to the soft music coming from the radio.

You two approached the company and you couldn’t lie, you were just excited as your father, this was the opportunity of a lifetime. The selection process for this internship is tough, hundreds of teens apply but only five make it in, and you just happened to be one of those five and so did… “Mark??” Even from behind you could tell that it was your new friend. After a week of following him around the school, you’ve become accustomed to the messy bedhead and bad posture. The boy turned around in surprise, following the sound of his name. “Y/N?! What are you doing here?” He asked, an automatic smile appearing once he saw you. He jogged over to where you were walking and took his normal spot next to you. “I’m here for the internship! Today is the first day.” You explain, ignoring your father’s questioning eyes for now. “No way! Me too!” you look up at him with shock, what were the odds. Even if you didn’t meet at school you two were destined to cross paths at some point. You only smile widely, bumping into the other’s shoulder playfully, “Guess we’ll be spending even more time together.” You say with a raised eyebrow and Mark only smiled. “Guess so.” He replied.

You two joined the other three interns once you walked through the large glass doors, the intro tour was starting soon but Mark had left after a few seconds to go to the bathroom before the important information was given. You pitied your friend, the directions he got to the bathroom were even more confusing than the school hallways you were still learning. When the tour started and Mark wasn’t back yet you started to grow nervous, the guide’s voice going in one ear out the other as you look around for the lanky boy. Did he really get lost? You were too scared to pull out your phone, knowing it would look disrespectful, so you just try to forget about Mark for now and focus on the guide, you can just give the boy a recap once you see him again. Which wasn’t until the end of the tour. The skinny boy came rushing towards you from some random doorway and you let out a breath of relief. “Mark Lee where the Hell have you been?” You whispered angrily as he got close enough to be in earshot. “To be honest, I don’t really know, I got lost like majorly lost, I don’t wanna talk about it.” You tilted your head curiously, wondering why your friend was gripping the back of his neck, he stopped doing that as often as you two got closer so it was weird to see. You just shrugged and turned away. “Can you catch me up on everything?” He asked, leaning over so his head rested on your shoulder from behind you. “What are friends for?”

Its officially been one month since you transferred to this new school and met Mark, and you can safely say there hasn’t been one boring day. After your first day as interns Mark started acting a bit weird. He no longer wore his glasses but he excused that with his new love of contacts. He was stronger and his body was not as lanky as before and overall just gave off a new aura. He didn’t feel like your normal nerdy Mark. You weren’t complaining, of course, That boy needed some confidence you were just curious about its sudden appearance.

“Have you guys heard of that Spiderman dude?” You ask nonchalantly at the lunch table, you lift your head from your phone and look over at Mark, his eyes met yours and it was hard to hide the blush that appeared. Shy or confidant Mark, it didn’t matter, as time went on you fell head over heels for the fluffy-haired boy. He shakes his head quickly, “N-No! Spiderman? What stupid name is that?” He rushed out. “God you’re so weird Mark Lee, I was just asking. I saw a video of him on Twitter last night and he looks pretty cool, the suit could use some work though.” You shrug before taking a quick sip of your chocolate milk. “What’s wrong with the suit?!” Mark asked defensively, Ned glared at his friend and punched his arm from under the table, but you didn’t miss the way Mark flinched. He cleared his throat, letting out a nervous laugh, “Uh... I mean.. From what you’re saying, he’s a new hero right? He’s probably still working on the suit and other minor things.” Mark covered up poorly. You look over at the flustered boy before turning your head to Ned. “I guess..?” You replied simply.

The rest of the day was uneventful, Mark was still being his weird self but you were getting used to it. He had yearbook club today after school and you stayed with him since you guys carpooled together to Osborn. He knew you found yearbooking extremely boring though so he excused you and you left to wander the halls, it was rare to see them so empty and you took advantage of the quiet. You hummed softly to yourself as you scrolled through your phone, more and more videos of this Spiderman guy popping up on your feed. After a few minutes of silence, you were brought back to reality by the sounds of yelling and lockers rattling. Being the curious person you were you followed the noise.

“Mark?!” You were not expecting to see the boy you have a crush on, on top of the high school football star, both were throwing punches left and right. Mark had blood dripping from his lip while the other had a busted nose. You run-up to the nearest bystander, “What the Hell Happened?” You ask. You were too shocked to do anything, you thought you’d never live to see the day where Mark Lee got in a fight and was winning. “I don’t know! Levi was talking his normal shit talk and yearbook boy wasn’t having it, he just lunged at him.” Holy shit, the Mark you knew would never do anything like that. Just as you finally move to step forward and do your best to convince your friend to stop, the booming voice of the principal echoed throughout the halls. “What is going on?!” Just at the sound, everyone started running, including you. You ran towards Mark, grabbing his hand and pulling him up quickly. “Come on dumbass, if you get expelled you’ll lose the internship.” Levi apparently had the same idea as he also got up and bolted.

You and Mark ran hand in hand all the to his car and while you were completely out of breath, he was doing just fine, well except for the cut on his lip. As you two rushed into the car you couldn’t hold back anymore. “What the fuck were you thinking??” You almost yell, disappointment seeping through your voice. This bastard had the audacity to laugh. He was laughing! “Should I drive? You don’t seem mentally stable.” You only half-joke. “No no no I’m okay, I’m okay. Honestly, I’ve never been better! Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to do that? Since Freshman year.” You just watch Mark as he speaks. His hair was messy, his lip was bleeding, he had a bruise forming on his cheek, yet this was the happiest you have ever seen him. “I’m used to him making fun of me.. But he said something about you and I don’t know what came over me… all I know is that it felt good, really good.” Mark explained as he drove the familiar path to the lab. “What did he say?” You ask curiously, he did it for you..? “Something about taking you away from me, that you were too good to hang out with Ned and I… in his words you are too ‘hot’ to be associated with us… I hated it, I hated the way he talked about you. He doesn’t know how smart you are, how clever, you’re a genius and all he sees is how pretty you are.” Mark was in one of his many rants but with each word, your face grew redder and redder. Mark soon realizes his mistake and he shuts up too, a blush of his own growing. “You are though… You’re really pretty.”

Once you two reach the lab you walk over to Mark’s side of the car and as soon as he got out you grabbed his hand. He didn’t argue and allowed you to lead him to the break room for the interns. “Sit down.” You said softly, pointing to one of the many chairs. For the first time, the air was awkward around you two and you hated it, no you despised it. You took what you needed from the first-aid kit before walking back over to your friend. You pulled another chair in front of Mark’s and when you sat down your knees were pressed against his. You both gulped nervously from the closeness but you just continued, leaning in slowly, using the edge of a cotton swab to clean the cut on the boy’s bottom lip. Your eyes were trained on the wound you didn’t even know Mark’s eyes were focused on the same thing. He couldn’t stop himself from training his gaze on your lips. He meant it earlier, he found you absolutely stunning, which was why he attacked Levi the way he did… because a part of Mark believed that the other boy was right. You were too good for him. “Y/N?” The boy whispered. “Hm?” you reply, not really paying attention to his words. “Can I kiss you?” That caught your attention. You looked up at Mark in surprise, your eyes wide. Did he just say what you thought he just said? “What?” You ask although you heard the question but your brain refused to process the words. “Can I kiss you? I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I met you but something happened to me recently that changed how I view the world and I just don’t want to live with regrets an-” Mark’s rant was cut off as you place your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close so your lips met in a soft kiss. The first thing you noticed was how warm he felt against you, you felt safe and comfortable, kissing Mark was like sitting by a campfire during a freezing night, it was an escape, and you were afraid that with this one taste you would grow addicted. Mark was quick to act, his hands pulling you closer so you were literally on the edge of your seat. He also couldn’t believe this was happening, he’s liked you since he met you and he never thought the day would come where he would be kissing you and it felt so much better than what he imagined. After a few more seconds the both of you pulled away, your foreheads resting against each other as you let out a soft laugh.

It’s been a few weeks since Mark and your’s first kiss, and you two have had plenty more since then. You couldn’t believe that you settled in so quickly to this new school. You had a group of friends and even a really cute boyfriend. But you couldn’t get the thought out of your head that Mark was hiding something from you. He would disappear randomly for hours at a time and give you pisspoor excuses as to why. Sure you were nervous and curious… but every time you asked about it he would just change the topic. You tried to ignore these thoughts though, just wanting to enjoy the date in Central Park with your boyfriend. “I think I figured out why you disappear all the time.” You muse with a teasing smile. “You’re Spiderman! Just think about it, I’ve never seen you and Spiderman in the same room, and every time you’re gone Spiderman is off saving the city.” You were teasing of course. Your hand was laced with his, the light from the buildings and the smog in the air hid most of the stars except for the brightest but the night breeze was very much appreciated. Autumn was coming to an end, the colorful leaves that once hung from the trees covered the ground. The street lights lit their path as the couple enjoyed the hot chocolate they bought a few minutes ago. Everything was perfect.

“Hahaha very funny. I’m not Spiderman.” Mark said, giving you a playful look. You didn’t notice the way he tensed up when you brought up the idea. “I don’t know, you and the spidey boy have similar bodies.” You continue to joke, meeting Mark’s eyes. “First of all don’t call him spidey boy, and second of all, I. Am. Not. Spiderman.” Mark replied, not liking this conversation one bit. “I think you’re Spiderman.” You say with a simple shrug, you, on the other hand, found this game very fun. Mark stopped you two from walking before moving in front of you. He bent down slightly and cupped your face with his free hand. “Y/N.” He said sternly. He leaned in and placed a quick peck on your lips. “I.” Another peck. “Am.” A longer kiss this time. “Not.” Another peck. “Spiderman. What do I have to do for you to believe me?” You smiled up at Mark, your cheeks pink from the affection. “Hmmm.” You pretended to think before grinning, “Kiss me again… and again… and again..” Mark just laughed and pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “Okay.. I will kiss you as much as you want.” He answered before leaning in once more, his lips immediately meeting yours. You gripped his jacket as he moves to deepen the kiss, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip. But before that could happen Mark ripped away from you and turned around, following the sound of an explosion.

You watched in shock as one of the tallest buildings in the city erupted into flames. “Oh my god.” You mumble the fire reflecting in your eyes as the screams filled the air. The shock didn’t end there, you saw Mark take his coat off in the corner of your eye, the rest of his clothes following to reveal the familiar red and blue suit. Before he pulled on the mask he looked over to you with a shy smile. “I will explain everything later.” was all he said before placing one last sweet kiss on your lips then raising one of his arms, webs shooting from his wrist to the nearest building. Mark swung out of sight, leaving you on one of the many sidewalks of Central Park, wide-eyed with your heart racing a mile a minute. All you could think of at the moment was one word, and it brought a smile to your face.

“Liar.”

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sxfterhearts · 4 years

Text

22. [4:22 pm]

“That’s all for today, good job everyone on your midsemester exams, and don’t forget to submit your assignments by midnight on Saturday.” Loud rustles echoed around the room as impatient students began to pack up their things and leave. “See you next week, class.”

Even before you dismissed your tutorial class, nearly three-quarters of the room was already vacated. As the last few students got up and bid you goodbye, a few of them stayed back to ask you questions about the midsemester exam you just reviewed. Being an experienced tutor for this unit, you listened intently to every single one of their questions and worries, providing them with answers to the best of your knowledge. It was common for you to get held back for nearly fifteen to twenty minutes because the unit you tutored was known to be difficult yet essential for all students from your major. You remembered taking this unit yourself two years ago and all the grief it had caused you, hence you fully empathised with your students.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar blonde-haired boy leaning against a table and browsing casually on his phone as you placed all of the midsemester exams back into the cardboard box, along with your stationary and other tutorial material. He was the last student left. “Bambam,” you called the boy. “How can I help you?”

“What are you doing after this, Y/N?”

You tried your best to resist the strong urge to roll your eyes. Bambam had been over the moon when he found out that you, his former class president from high school, was assigned to tutor his class for the entire semester. Ever since high school, he had made countless futile attempts to get closer to you. Most girls back then would have been flattered by the vice president of the student council’s undivided attention – he was always trailing around you like a lost puppy, offering to help you with tasks that you were fully capable of handling, or leaving you small gifts like chocolate and miniature wooden figures from his Woodwork class.

Undeterred, you never caved to his advances, for many reasons. For one, the two of you were polar opposites. The only similarity that you shared was that you were both teachers’ pets who sat on the student council. Anything beyond that, such as your personalities (you were the studious, quiet type; he was popular, smart and sporty) and your interests (you loved escaping to the library and reading; he practically lived on the basketball courts) were miles apart. Secondly, you absolutely loathed all the attention he gave you. You disliked his grand gestures that quickly became the talk of the school. There was so much unnecessary gossip surrounding you due to Bambam’s actions and you hated it when people talked behind your back. Some girls even started sending you anonymous threats on social media for being the apple of Bambam’s eye and for rejecting his heart. It was just too much for you and you decided that you wanted nothing to do with him.

Things were much more different now, of course. Most people mature when they enter university and thankfully the students who used to harass you either studied elsewhere or lost interest in the situation completely. You had enjoyed your peace and quiet without him in your first year when Bambam had decided to take a gap year, but he had since returned from his worldly travels. You rarely came in contact with him in your second year as you had completed a year of studies abroad, but this year, by some twisted stroke of luck, you had been assigned as his tutor.

He was the same old Bambam, always so persistent, but a bit more mature in his approach. He would ask you the same question every other week, about your schedule, and whether you were free to ‘catch up’, but he knew how to stop and wish you a good day once you rejected him. You always gave him the same answer, a polite “No, thank you,”, before parting ways with him. That is, until last week.

It was the week of midsemester exams. Due to the exam timetable, the exam of the unit you tutored fell on a Monday, four days before the exam that you had to sit which was on the Friday. Normally, this would be an ideal timetable, however another one of the tutors came down with a serious case of the flu and the professor assigned you to mark her load of papers by Friday. By Wednesday afternoon, you were marking papers in an abandoned corner of the cafeteria, running on a lack of sleep and an astronomical amount of caffeine in your bloodstream. When Bambam walked up to you and sat across you, spouting his usual questions, you just lost it. “No! I have nearly two hundred papers to grade and a difficult exam to study for. No, I am not free, so leave me alone!” You yelled at him, nearly on the brink of tears.

Bambam was clearly taken aback by your outburst, of course. You were soft-spoken and demure, never one to raise your voice in a public place. He could see the resemblance between the woman before him, struggling to hold back the tears, and the girl he saw hiding in an abandoned classroom three years ago, bawling her eyes out as she crouched amongst a sea of books and papers. He remembered that you never really dealt with academic stress very well.

On the surface level, Bambam seemed the stereotypical rich boy on campus, shooting hoops with the boys every day while playing with a different girl every night. It wasn’t true, though. There’s more than meets the eye.

You learned that when he had respectfully asked whether he could stay with you, and if he could bring you somewhere to take your mind off things. Suddenly exhausted, you finally gave in to him, watching him tidy up your things and place them into your bag. You figured it was about time you took a break from this madness anyways. He led you towards the footpath by the riverside across the road from your university campus. The two of you walked in silence, with nothing but the sound of waves crashing against the bay filling your ears. He took you to the far side of the bay which you rarely frequented and sat on the bench facing the river. There were many more yachts docked nearby, their periodic swaying therapeutic to watch, and the occasional dog would pass by, wagging its tail in greeting. Being in nature was calming, and you felt yourself relax in his presence.

“Hello, earth to Y/N.” Bambam waved his palm in front of your face. “Are you alright? You spaced out there for a sec,”

You swung your backpack over your shoulder and picked up the heavy box filled with stacks of paper. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Did you miss my question? I asked you about your plans after class.” The blonde boy reminded, walking side by side as the two of you exited the tutorial room.

You were still somewhat shaken by the flashback you had. It left a deep impression on you, and casted Bambam in a completely different light. “Uh, yeah, sorry.” You readjusted the box in your hands. “I’m just dropping these off at the professor’s desk.”

“Wait, did you just give me a proper answer?” Bambam wondered aloud, clearly taken aback by your less-than-usual response. I’m making progress, he thought. “Can I come with? I was hoping you’d be free after that too, I wanted to take you out for a coffee.”

“Why?”

“Well, see, I wanted to talk to you about last week. You know, when-” He was interrupted by your soft wince as you readjusted the box once more. “Do you want me to carry it?”

You shook your head adamantly. “It’s not heavy.” You shot him a pointed look. “I’m stronger than I look.”

Bambam stifled a laughter at your determined expression. “Yeah, I have no doubt about that.” He quickly stole the box out of your arms and cut you off before you could protest. “You know, Y/N, you don’t have to act so strong all the time. Let others help you once in a while, no one will think any less of you for sharing your burden.”

“I-”

“Ah, Y/N!” Your professor exclaimed, stumbling upon you on his way to meet a colleague. “Are those the papers?”

You and Bambam bowed in greeting. “Yes, sir.” You answered, taking the box away and handing it to your professor. “One of the students had their marks calculated wrongly, I’ve already sent you an email with his student number and the new score. I’m really sorry for the mistake, sir, I promise-”

“That’s fantastic, Y/N. Always so efficient and meticulous. There’s really no need to be sorry! As humans, we are bound to make mistakes. What’s important is how we fix them and how learn from them. Thank you for your hard work, Y/N. You’ve done a good job.”

You turned your gaze downwards, slightly shy due to his kind words. “Yes, sir. Thank you.” You replied softly.

“And who is this young man, Y/N? Are you getting him to do all your dirty work? I saw him carrying the box earlier. It is heavy, though, if I do say so myself.” The professor extended his hand in a handshake, to which Bambam responded with a bright smile on his face.

“My name’s Bambam, sir. I’m doing your unit too, and Y/N is my tutor.”

The professor’s eyebrows quirked up in interest. “Oh? Is this something I should be worried about?”

“Sir, what does that mean?” You asked hurriedly.

He laughed boisterously in response, his half-moon glasses nearly falling off the tip of his nose as he did so. “I’m just joking, you two. Tell me, Bambam, how is it like being tutored by your girlfriend?”

“What-” You shrieked.

Bambam denied hastily. “Girlfriend? She’s not-”

“Sir, this is a misunderstanding, he’s not-” The two of you were gesturing and shaking your heads in unison, denying the professor’s words profusely.

“Ah, young love.” The professor readjusted his glasses as a knowing smile graced his lips. “Listen, son, I’ve known this young lady for two years now and I can assure you that she’s one of the good ones. Treat her well, she’s hard to find and hard to keep.”

Bambam flushed pink at his words. “You can say that again, sir.” His eyes met yours as he flashed you a bashful smile. Little did the professor know that he had been chasing you for the past six years, since the first day of high school.

(And little did you know that, indeed, opposites do attract. Seems like the blonde boy had a soft side that he kept hidden under that goofy exterior of his.)

(Of course, a few months down the road and a dozen coffee dates later, he would ask you to be his girlfriend.)

(And you agreed.)

#got7 #bambam #bambam fluff #got7 fluff #bambam fanfic #got7 fanfic #bambam scenarios #got7 scenarios #bambam drabble #got7 drabbles #bambam timestamp #got7 timestamps #bambam imagines #got7 imagines #bambam soft #got7 soft #got7 bambam #bambam soft hours

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scullysexual · 4 years

Text

Jewel Sequel: Chapter Two.

There’s been a change of plan. I was originally gonna get this out on the weekend (so it had a similar system to what Jewel had) but then I finished it and edited it today so the post day will either be late Wednesday/early Thursday and hopefully I’ll be able to stick to that schedule. Hi, hello, if you’re new to this. This can arguably be classed as a ‘Titanic au’ still cause it exists within that universe. This is a sequel to that and it is highly recommended to read A Jewel Beneath The Moonlight first, it’s not long, it’s thirteen chapters and if you’ve read my stuff before you’ll know my chapters/one shots are never long. You won’t regret reading it either. It’s been a while since I’ve been in this universe but most wanted me to continue with it so here you go. I do really hope you enjoy this as much as you did Jewel. If you have any questions, feel free to ask them :)

Tagging: @baronessblixen @suitablyaggrieved @purrykat @today-in-fic. As usual, let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters.

Link to Chapter One.

Scully sighs in frustration as she turns the pages of the newspaper. It was the third one she had picked up so far and nothing; nobody advertising for any job, nobody looking for extra help.

She places the newspaper back on the rack, her hand hovering over the next before…

“We’re not a library. If you’re going to look through it, you better pay for it.”

Scully looks up to see an old man peering down at her from his stall.

Reluctantly, she leaves the fourth paper where it is and saunters over to the counter.

“Yes?” the man asks, warily.

“I was wondering if there had any job requests,” Scully answers, her elbows coming up to lean on the counter.

The man eyes her cautiously. “What kind of job?”

“Nanny, housekeeper, that sort of thing,” she shrugs.

With one last careful glance towards her, Scully watches with apprehension as he pulls a piece of paper off the wall and hands it to her.

“The Burkes came in a few weeks ago saying they were looking for a new housekeeper. They never came back to tell me they found someone so you can always check there.”

Scully looks at the yellowing paper. The address was not of a place she had heard of but it sounded upper class enough for them to have money so it was good enough for her.

“Thank you,” Scully says, exiting the shop. Too busy still reading the paper, she misses the sign If you read, you buy the man tapes onto the newspaper rack.

Three knocks and she’s stepping back, praying that her appearance is presentable enough for this family to consider her.

Physical appearance had been everything with the other family; hair up, clothes tucked in, and not a single curl out of place. Scully’s curls always fell out of place, regardless.

She hears barking from the other side of the door and smiles. They have a dog.

Out the way, Bruce, she also hears before the door is opening and a boy no older than herself stands before her.

“Uh…can I help you?” the boy asks.

Smiling (just as she had been taught) Scully begins,

“Hi, uh…there was a housekeeper request made and I was wondering if it was still open?” She extends the note towards the boy and he looks down at it, looking as if he’s unsure as to what it is or what to do with it for a second before he’s taking it from her.

“Uh, yeah…just, hold on a minute.”

Scully nods, still smiling, as the door is placed on the latch and waits for him to return.

To say she was disappointed to being back in this position again perhaps wasn’t right. She knew even four months ago that there would have to be an adjustment period, and while her future turned out differently than she imagined before stepping onto the ship, career-wise, it wasn’t entirely off target.

The four months she had been here was really about allowing Mulder to settle. She knows how much of a drastic change this is for him, how important it was for her to be there when he came home every evening- she was his only familiarity anymore, after all- but Scully couldn’t shake away the feeling that maybe she had pushed her dreams too far back, all just to accommodate Mulder.

Had she still been here with Charlie, they would have found the swing of things fairly early on; him at some construction site, her in some upper-class house. And she wouldn’t have to try and get the weekend off.

Charlie…

It still stung to think of her brother.

The door reopens to an older woman, late 30s Scully assumes, holding the note Scully gave to the boy.

The woman looks her up and down. “You’re the help?” she asks, distastefully.

“Aye, ma’am,” Scully nods.

The woman sighs defeatedly. “I suppose you’re better than nothing.” She opens the door the little wider to allow Scully entrance. “Well, come on, then.”

Scully enters and immediately the dog bounding towards her, curious as to who this intruder is. She laughs as the gold Labrador slobbers all over her skirt, not minding at all as she pets the top of his head.

“Edward!” Mrs Burke shouts towards the rooms leading off. The boy who answered the door exits out of the nearest doorway. “Take the dog somewhere else.”

Edward moves towards the dog, gripping it by the collar and tugging it away from Scully. “Sorry,” he says sheepishly.

“You won’t need to worry about the dog,” Mrs Burke says, shutting the front door. “That’s Edward’s job. What did you say your name was?”

“Ingrid Brevik,” Scully answered.

The woman smiles slightly, a smile that tells Scully the woman knows she’s lying.

“You’re real name.”

Scully hesitates for a moment. They had been using their fake names since they got here, every new person they met they introduced themselves as Leif and Ingrid and nothing was said on the matter. Even when they had got to Ellis Island, they had been allowed to pass through immigration fairly easily.

“If will remain within this household if you’re scared,” Mrs Burke reassures.

And maybe Scully was scared. What if they knew the Mulders had been her first thought, was always her thought when meeting anybody. Scully knew first-hand what vultures these people were.

But what if not all of them were? Mulder certainly wasn’t.

“Dana Scully,” Scully finally answers.

Mrs Burke nods, “That sounds more like it. Come on, I’ll show you around.”

Scully gets a tour of the house. It’s easy enough to navigate, give her two days and she’ll be able to walk around with her eyes closed.

She’s finally led to where she’ll be staying. A room in the basement. Minimum furniture; a single bed, a set of drawers yet the added bonus is the small bathroom attached. The last house hadn’t had a bathroom and Scully had been forced to use the one they had outside.

“You’ll work from six to nine every day. Dinner is usually served at seven. Any meals you have are to be had after we’ve eaten. Yes?”

Scully nods.

“Any questions?”

Scully fumbles with her fingers, unsure of how to proceed.

“Um…I have one request, actually.” The woman looks at her, waiting. “Can I have Saturday to Sunday off?”

An agreement was made. Monday to Friday she would work, for half the wage.

Scully hadn’t tried to bargain with Mrs Burke. She hadn’t been too impressed with Scully’s request but had granted it anyway once Scully explained Mulder. She may not have been truthfully honest, Mulder was far from inept and she had no doubt he could take care of himself if it really came down to it but needs must.

Now she had the task of actually telling Mulder, something she had been dreading since this idea first came to mind. Five days a week Mulder would have to learn to live without her which meant he had a few new skills to learn.

Scully braces herself at the sound of the door unlocking. It opens to reveal Mulder, worn out and dropping his sketchbook onto the floor. He looks over to her, smiling tiredly, taking off his shoes.

“Long day?” she asks.

Mulder smiles in agreement, placing the money jar on the table. Scully’s eyes fall to it and widen when she realises what sits inside.

A dark green dollar bill.

She brings the jar towards her, twisting off the cap.

Mulder is full smiles now, pulling out the opposite chair and sitting down.

“Took a bit of convincing, but I managed to con them into giving that over.”

She looks up at him disapprovingly. “Mulder! We agreed you weren’t gonna use any deceitful tactics.”

“Look, I only did it the once, and look what it got us,” he points to the bill she holds in her hand. “I promise I won’t do it often.”

Scully sighs, placing the note back into the jar and pushing it out of the way. “You won’t have to. I got a job.”

Mulder stares at her in surprise. “Really? Where?”

She slides the note she got from the newspaper stall over to him.

“It’s just a housekeeper. I work Monday to Friday but I get to be home for the weekend.” She smiles, hoping it’ll lift his spirits.

Mulder stares glumly at the note. “You won’t be here for five days.”

She reaches her hand out, grasping his. “But I get to be home every weekend, that’s something right?”

Mulder shrugs, his fingers playing with hers. “When do you start?”

Scully looks down at their entwined hands. “Monday.”

“Monday?” Mulder exclaims. “But what’s in two days.”

“Well, it’s better than starting tomorrow, isn’t it?”

Mulder looks glumly down at their hands. “I guess,” he mumbles. “Scully, how am I meant to survive five days without you here?”

Scully smiles, “I’ll teach you how to cook. That should keep you alive.” Another thought passes through her mind then, one she hadn’t thought about before this moment.

“Mulder, will you be okay at night? You know, with the nightmares and that?”

She watches him think for a moment, a flash of panic crossing his face. Often their nightmares consisted of something happening to the other, or just a memory of what happened that night, and when they would wake up, the other’s presence would soothe them, allow them to go back to sleep knowing the other was safe and alive next to them. With them both being separated, there was a worry that that safety, that comfort wouldn’t be there anymore.

“I’ll be fine,” he says, trying to sound like he was convincing them both. “What about you? I know you have them, too.”

Scully tried to be less vocal about hers. Sometimes, Mulder’s dreams would have her waking up- usually because Mulder’s woke her up- sometimes it was the only way he could really go back to sleep if he knew she was really alive. Scully would just cuddle closer to Mulder, listen to his breathing and fall asleep that way.

She grasps his hand tighter. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

It was going to be strange, being away from each other for so long. They had been in each other’s company since the day they met. They have never gone a day since that day without seeing each other at some point during the same day. Scully just prayed Mulder would be able to manage without her.

#txf #titanic au #jewel sequel #i write

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spaceskam · 4 years

Text

why don’t we loosen up and dance a bit?

finally! the final day of my 12 (actually 13) days of gifts is here! This is a step up au for @lire-casander and i hope it makes up for the long ass wait :)

warning: implied child abuse, but there’s no details at all

ao3

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“How about, ‘I forgive you?”

Mimi DeLuca stared Michael down with eyes that could kill. He sunk into his chair and bowed his head, preparing for whatever punishment she wanted to throw on him.

“I just… I don’t understand what your thought process was. I mean, that’s your sister’s school you just decided to trash,” Mimi said, laughing hollowly as she threw her arms out. Michael felt a new feeling build inside him. It actually hurt that Mimi was disappointed in him. It was extremely new. He didn’t like it.

“She’s not my sister,” Michael snapped instead of letting the feeling fester. Mimi scoffed, her hands landing on her hips.

“You have been here for ten months, Michael Guerin. That means she’s your sister and I’m your mother. Maybe not by blood or to you, but under the law and in my mind, you are,” Mimi said. Michael would’ve smiled if he wasn’t being lectured. “Tell me, is there something going on? Do you need more attention? Therapy? Are you being bullied? Pressured? Talk to me, tell me. We can fix whatever it is.”

Michael gulped and suddenly wished it was something like that. The real answer was stupid and pathetic.

“I don’t know,” Michael admitted, “I did it because it was there.”

Mimi sighed and dropped her head in her hands. Michael watched her and held his breath. She didn’t look up for a long time.

“Are you gonna call my social worker?” Michael asked softly. Mimi’s head shot up and almost looked offended.

“No, absolutely not. This is your home, you aren’t going anywhere,” Mimi said firmly, “I’m going to take you to your court date and we are going to hope they let you off easy. Just like I would do for Maria.” Michael’s heart thudded wildly in his chest. It felt like favoritism even if it was really just being equal for once. “And, like Maria, you’re grounded for a month.”

“A month?!” he asked but he was smiling.

“A month. Now go to your room,” she scolded but she was smiling.

“Ugh, this is so not fair!”

“Life isn’t fair!”

Michael went to his own bedroom and laid in his own bed and decided that he would try really hard not to make her disappointed again.

Community service. That was his sentence.

“I can’t believe they assigned you to clean up my school. I’m suing,” Maria scoffed. Michael rolled his eyes and leaned in her doorway. She was putting on makeup before school and Michael was waiting to take her. He’d dropped out of school when he was 16 and started working. That was before he’d met Mimi‒now he was homeschooled.

Which gave him enough time to do his community service. Yay.

“Listen, if anyone asks, you’re not my brother,” Maria said. Michael huffed a laugh.

“I’m not your brother.”

Maria paused and then looked at him for a moment. “I mean, but you are though. But at school, you’re not because I don’t want people saying shit about me because we’re related.”

“We’re not related!”

“Shut up!”

A smile pulled at his lips as Maria flipped him off. He would never admit it to her face, but he loved these moments. He loved the way they just accepted him as apart of the family. He loved the way he could fuck up and they would still keep him. He didn’t, however, enjoy that stupid part of his brain that told him to fuck up. He knew better, but he found it hard to contain himself. It was something he had to work on.

“Can you drive me?” Michael asked as he followed her to the kitchen. She looked over her shoulder and raised her eyebrow.

"How am I supposed to lie about you being my brother if you're, like, in my car?" Maria asked. He did his best pouting face and made his eyes all big. She still didn't buy it. He groaned.

"I'll do your chores for the entire length of my community service."

Maria paused. "Done.”

Ark Kingdom School of the Arts looked a lot bigger and a lot fancier during the day. It made Michael feel a lot worse about the fact he’d trashed it.

“It’s huge,” Michael scoffed. Maria looked at him and gave a sarcastic smile.

“Yeah. Now go, run along,” she said.

“Fuck you,” he laughed.

“Ew, pass,” she said before heading off towards one of the four massive buildings. Michael shook his head with a laugh and began making his way towards the front office. There, he would get his lame uniform and begin his fun janitorial duties. For free.

The jumpsuit they gave him fit poorly and was certainly not his color, but he had no choice. Instead, he spent his day following a lovely old man who didn’t like to talk about anything that didn’t involve explaining to Michael in excruciating detail how he wanted things cleaned. Which, in his defense, this was the cleanest school Michael had ever seen.

He was making his way through each building slowly. Apparently, Monday was deep clean bathrooms day, Tuesday was deep clean the dance building, Wednesday was deep clean the music building, Thursday was deep clean the art building, and Friday was deep clean the theatre building. Or, at least for him it was. They were on rotation with the other janitors to make sure every building and all bathrooms got meticulously cleaned. The joys of private school or something.

On his lunch break, he decided to wander about the dance building and see if he could find Maria. Not that he wanted to talk to her, but he thought he could fuck with her from across the room to pass the time. He peered through the windows of the doors of all the classrooms and, for the most part, dance studios to see if he could see her.

Eventually, he saw her. She was talking to a boy who was stretching his obscenely muscular calves and laughing while he did it. Michael was entranced almost immediately. He had long, shaggy black hair that reached his shoulders and Michael got to watch as he raked it back into a bun at the nape of his neck. He decided right then that he was extremely angry at Maria for never introducing them.

Michael had known he was bisexual from a very young age, long before he had a word for it. He liked boys and he liked girls and he liked everyone in between and otherwise. People were pretty and he was supremely bad at hiding it. It was the main reason he was still being bounced around foster homes at sixteen. But now he found a nice home with a nice family or a family who pretended to be nice because what nice sister would hide such a beautiful man from him? That was just rude.

Well, he would just have to introduce himself.

Michael let himself into the room, strolling across the floor and straight up to Maria. They were both in leotards and tights and both looked all professional and ready to go and they both turned their attention onto him when he walked up.

“Maria, let me use your phone to call Mimi,” he said, not even trying to hide the fact that his phone was visible in his pocket. Maria scoffed and the boy gave him a once over, smirking softly.

“So this must be the guy who trashed the school and set me back a whole week of training in a proper studio,” the guy said. Michael flashed his most charming smile.

“Michael,” he introduced. The guy looked at him and then let out a laugh.

“Sorry, I don’t affiliate myself with criminals,” he said, walking away. Michael couldn’t find it in himself to be offended and he just whistled at the low blow, watching him walk away. In the middle of admiring the fine dancer’s ass, he received a hard hit to the back of his shoulder.

“What did I say?!” Maria hissed, her face scrunched up in an admittedly hilarious face.

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed, still looking over at the boy who was now bent over completely. It was a very heavenly sight. “I was just trying to figure out why you didn’t introduce me to someone like him.”

“Like him? Like who? Alex?” she asked, disgust taking over her face, “No. Do not look at Alex, stop it.”

“So his name’s Alex?” Michael asked, biting down on his lip. He watched Alex slowly slide into a split and stretch a little more. “Fuck me. Is he into dudes?”

“If he is, I would not tell you! Get back to work!” Maria scolded, shoving him towards the door.

“Give him my number, will you?”

“Go to work!”

Michael did not. He instead spent his lunch break watching the two of them dance. He didn’t really have words for what they were doing, all he knew was that it was impressive. They moved around each other and with each other effortless, bodies in sync. It was clear that they were close and it was hard to figure out why he hadn’t noticed him before. He was stunning and talented and clearly friends with his foster sister. And Michael wanted to know him.

After school ended and Michael was just waiting for Maria to get out of class so they could leave, he ended up actually seeing Alex walking towards his own car. He couldn’t stop himself as he walked up to him. He was just too good to be true physically and Michael was eager to see if that extended to other parts of him as well.

“Hey!” he called, jogging up to him. Alex sighed and gave him a condescending smile that Michael loved. “Hey, I saw you dancing earlier. You are incredible.”

“Yeah, that’s why I go here,” Alex said. Michael licked his lips and smirked.

“You think I might be able to get a private show?” he asked. Alex’s jaw dropped slightly and he scoffed, shaking his head. Michael watched as his grip tightened on his backpack and took a step back. Maybe he was too forward.

“Didn’t you hear me earlier when I said I don’t affiliate with criminals? You literally almost ruined my chances for my competition by putting me out a week of proper practice space because you thought it was fun to destroy the studio,” Alex told him. Michael’s smirk dropped completely. “I don’t know why you think you’re hot shit, but you’re not. There is nothing cool about property damage. The fact that you don’t have to pay for it is bullshit and I really think it’s bullshit that they let you come on campus. And I don’t put up with guys like you who have no respect for anything. Bye-bye, now.”

Alex gave a little wave and then swiftly turned on his toes, walking towards his car. Michael sighed. So much for getting to know a guy that gorgeous. He probably was out of his league anyway.

“I told you,” Maria said as she came out of nowhere. Michael rolled his eyes. “No, but, really. Alex doesn’t do well with the whole flirting thing. Or relationship thing. He’s got a one-track mind and that’s to be successful enough to get out of this place.”

“This place?” Michael asked.

“Yeah. He wants to go to New York,” Maria answered as they walked towards the car, “Wants to be a professional dancer and get the fuck out of Roswell.”

“That sounds like a very uptight way to live,” Michael admitted. Maria just smiled at him and shook her head.

“Let him be uptight.”

That night, Michael laid in bed and thought about just how Alex had said he was disrespectful. He couldn’t figure out why it was stuck in his mind, but it seemed to be linked with the disappointed look Mimi had given him and the way the judge had stared at him. Was he disrespectful?

He supposed he didn’t really know. He didn’t see dancing or art or anything as that big of a deal. Sure, Alex was good at it and so was Maria, but was it even worth trying to make a career out of? Was it so serious that Alex would avoid people over it? Did he just not get it?

It bothered him. There was clearly something he wasn’t understanding.

Instead of sleeping that night, Michael spent hours researching different ballerinas. He read about tons and tons of people who had made a career out of their art. He’d read about people who seemed to live, eat, breathe dance. He saw videos of people who destroyed their feet and legs just to do what they loved to do. It seemed almost insulting to call it a talent when it really was just years and years of hard labor. It was serious. Missing a week of practice was serious. Missing anything was serious.

Michael was disrespectful.

“Hey! Wait up!”

“Oh my god, do you not know how to take no for an answer?”

Michael forced a sweet smile as Alex turned around. He was in baggy sweatpants today and they somehow looked just as good as the tights from the day before. He was just gorgeous. And, you know, hopefully into guys.

“Yeah, I do take no for an answer,” Michael said as nicely as he could, “And I didn’t like you telling me that I was disrespectful. I spent, like, all night learning everything I could about how hard it is to do what you do and… yeah, I was disrespectful. I’m sorry.”

Alex furrowed his eyebrows. “Okay? What, do you want a prize for having to do research for what should be common sense?”

“No, I’m just… admitting to my wrongs,” Michael said. Alex eyed him weirdly before nodding and waving curtly. Then he turned and disappeared into the building. Michael felt the desire to go after him again, but decided against it. Not only did he have to continue his community service, but he also knew this guy wasn’t his biggest fan. As hot as he was, he would need to keep his distance.

But they were cleaning the dance building all day.

Michael saw him in the halls and saw him looking some kind of gorgeous. His hair was down and messy and he had on a crop top that shouldn’t have looked as good as it did. Michael did his best not to look at him, not to stare, to let him be, but it was like some outside force kept throwing them in the same place. It was hard not to look.

The next few weeks went by just like that. Michael would see him and nod to him and admire him from afar. He’d watch Alex and Maria dance, slowly but surely memorizing the routine. He was growing a massive appreciation of both of them. They worked so hard. The appreciation seemed to make Alex warm up to him if only a little bit. It gave Michael another person that didn’t mind having him around.

Michael liked having people enjoy his presence.

“You guys should teach me how to do some of that,” Michael said to them as they caught their breath.

“Have you ever even danced before?” Alex asked. Michael smiled as he watched him dry his sweaty face with a towel. There were few things as hot as that man.

“I did, a little. Not like that. My old foster brother was a street dancer and he taught me a thing or two,” Michael mentioned. He’d actually taught Michael a bit more than just dancing, but that happened to be the main reason Michael had been taken out of the house. Sleeping with your foster siblings was a big no-no apparently.

“Okay, well, come over here,” Alex said. Maria rolled her eyes, but she held a hand out to him Michael grinned and walked over. “Alright, let’s try the basics. Put your feet like this.”

Michael stared down at their feet as they put their heels together and their toes pointed in opposite directions. He tried his best to copy them, but his feet weren’t nearly as straight as theirs. They both kicked his feet a little bit to try to make them straighter, but it didn’t really work.

“Okay, well that’s… kinda first position,” Maria laughed.

“Alright, and this is second position,” Alex said, spreading his legs a bit and raising his arms to his side.

“What the fuck is happening with your knees? Isn’t that bad?” Michael asked, listening to them both laugh.

“I mean, maybe, but ballet is all aesthetic,” Maria told him.

“That’s fucked.”

The two of them walked him through the five basic positions of ballet and found that he wasn’t actually half bad at doing them. Sure, they weren’t hard and he still struggled with a bit of footwork, but he wasn’t horrible at it. It was fun, actually.

It was the first time Michael realized he had friends.

Maria DeLuca fell in slow motion.

Michael saw it happen, watched as she tripped on the last step of the stairs over his bag and was helpless to actually try to help her. He heard her scream and she grabbed her ankle and she cried.

Fuck.

“What do you mean you sprained your ankle? Maria, the competition is in a month. This is important!”

Michael stood off to the side, averting his gaze as the two had a conversation. He felt sort of guilty. A lot guilty. It was his fault that she tripped and sprained her ankle. It was his fault that she was told to be on crutches for three weeks which left them both fucked for a competition that could get them scholarships.

“It’s not my fault, Alex.”

Alex tilted his head back and took a deep breath.

“I know, I know. I’m not trying to blame you, I just… I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Alex groaned.

“I’m sorry. Maybe you could find someone else to rehearse with until I can get back on my feet?”

“I can do it,” Michael said. They both turned to him.

“What?” Alex scoffed, “You don’t dance.”

“I dance a little. I know your routine. And we can work on it and tailor it a little bit,” Michael continued. He started walking towards them, slowly convincing himself that this was totally a good idea so that maybe Alex would agree.

“You don’t even go to school here, Michael,” Maria sighed.

“So? Doesn’t mean I can’t help,” he said, “Look, it’s my fault that you tripped and I feel horrible. Let me at least try to make it up to you? I promise I’ll give it my all.”

“You have community service still,” Alex said.

“I’ll be finished in two days. Gives me all that extra time to work with you,” Michael said with a smile that was intended to be charming. He didn’t know if it was. He was typically lost on what Alex Manes found charming.

Alex sighed and looked between the two of them, clearly torn. Michael saw the moment Alex realized he didn’t really have much of a choice. He had to at least try.

“Fine.”

Michael smiled big and bright.

“I feel like this is a bad idea.”

“You offered, suck it up.”

Michael nodded hesitantly and then took a deep breath for preparation. Alex gave him a small nod and then began to run. Michael braced himself and prepared to catch him after his graceful leap.

And then they both tumbled to the ground.

Michael winced as the wind was knocked out of him in an attempt to save Alex from slamming his face on the floor.

“Dude, you have to actually catch me,” Alex sighed.

“Why can’t you catch me? You catch Maria,” Michael argued. Alex rolled his eyes and pushed himself up to his feet. He held out his hand for Michael.

“Because I’m the one who can jump properly, you can’t,” Alex said, “You also have the muscle to catch me.”

Michael gave a wounded gasp, his hand touching his heart. “Are you calling me fat?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “I’m saying you look like you could carry me without struggling and I’m used to lifting women that barely weigh 100lbs.”

“Valid,” Michael said, grinning which just seemed to irk Alex even more, “Alright, let’s try again.”

It took almost eight tries before Michael actually was able to catch and lift him. Alex wasn’t that impressed.

“Finally, fuck,” Alex scoffed. Michael snorted and shook his head and didn’t say a word about the little smile that appeared on Alex’s face.

They spent hours practicing the simplest things. Or, somewhat simply. Michael picked up the less technical things extremely quick. Body movement came easy, his hips and his arms and his legs moved as he wanted. What he was bad at was looking graceful.

“Why don’t you show me what you can do and so I can gauge what I have to work with,�� Alex said, leaning against the wall and waving him on. Michael stood there awkwardly now that he was put on the spot. “Go on.”

Alex put on some trashy trap music and then smiled, seemingly really proud of his lame assumption as to what Michael could dance to. Annoyingly, he wasn’t that wrong.

It took a moment to stop feeling ridiculously uncomfortable, but he managed to do it. He blocked out the pressure and simply moved. He danced in ways he didn’t have words for. That was the thing, it seemed. Alex had words for every single move he did. Michael didn’t have that. He just moved with the way his body wanted him to.

“It’s good, really, it’s just not classical.”

“I’m not classically trained,” Michael laughed. Alex rolled his eyes.

“I know, but… Look, your dancing is, like, heavy. Picture that you’re light as a feather or like you’re dancing on a cloud,” Alex tried. Michael looked at him like he’d fucking lost it.

“A cloud? Your rich kid is showing.”

“No, look,” Alex scoffed, “Look at the difference. You spin like this.” Michael watched the very broad and admittedly heavy way he spun. His arms weren’t all poised, they were bent, and the spin itself was quick. It was all motivated by one swift push which was exactly how Michael had done it. “But it should look more like this.”

Once again, it was easy to become mesmerized by the way Alex moved. It was like he was born to do it with how effortless he made it look. But the fact was it wasn’t effortless. The way he could spin for minutes upon minutes and how all of his choices were refined. They all came with a purpose that Michael’s never did.

“Okay, so, if we’re pointing out nit-picks, I think your style is stiff,” Michael accused after the spell Alex put on him broke. Well, technically, it didn’t break. Alex had simply stopped dancing and so Mciahel’s brain started working a bit better. Now, he just looked extremely offended.

“Excuse me? Stiff? I am not stiff!”

“I mean, you kinda are. Even when you’re making fun of how heavy I move, it’s stiff. I’m loose,” Michael told him, smiling sweetly. Alex scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Says the man wearing jeans rather than the tights I gave him,” Alex shot back.

“It had a thong!”

“It’s called a dance belt!”

Alex put his hands to his forehead and walked in a circle. Michael watched him patiently, letting him think. He liked watching him think. He liked watching him do a lot of things. He even liked the tights‒just as long as they were on Alex and not him.

“Okay, okay,” Alex said, looking at him with a new look on his face. He let his long hair down and then tied it back again. Michael dreamed of a day he left it down all the time. “You learn to get light and wear the tights, and I’ll work on loosening up.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Why do I have to do two things?”

“Because it’s my routine.”

With a slow nod, Michael surrendered. He already knew he would. Imagine telling someone that looks and acts like that no?

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Wanna see something cool?”

“Is it my ass in those thong tights because I already looked at that.”

“Shut the fuck up and come on.”

Michael grinned as Alex unlocked the car door for him. Two weeks of practicing and slowly but surely they were meeting in the middle. In fact, they’d mashed something together that wasn’t quite hip-hip dancing, but wasn’t quite classical either. It was a mesh of something amazing, something theirs. He loved it.

He climbed into the passenger side of Alex’s car and let him drive out of the school parking lot.

The two of them hadn’t actually spent much time alone outside of the school and especially never without Maria, but the idea of it alone had Michael excited. He’d wanted him from the moment he saw him.

When they stopped at a red light, Alex let down and shook it out. It had a little wave to it from being up all day and he ran his hand through it to loosen it more. Michael had to take a deep breath at the sight. He had to restrain himself from reaching out and touching.

“I like your hair like that,” Michael said.

“I don’t care what you like,” he said. Michael smiled at him.

The drive didn’t last too long, but it was a part of town Michael had actually never been. Granted, he’d been on a relatively tight leash since he got to Roswell since he had a pretty shitty track record when he came to the DeLuca household. But, even if he hadn’t, he probably wouldn’t have gone to the wooded area that Alex had brought him.

Alex got out first without a word and began heading towards the woods and Michael took a second to admire him. He had changed into a pair of form-fitting sweats and had on a loose crop top that showed a few inches of tan skin on his back. Michael almost died the first time he experienced touching that.

“Where the hell are we going?” Michael asked as he followed Alex into the trees.

“Somewhere cool.”

Alex walked the stone pathway with large strides and a skip in his step, his hair whipping around him in the most intoxicating way Michael had ever seen. It was hard not to stare. The only reason he stopped staring was because of the giant treehouse with a winding fucking staircase they ran up to.

“Holy shit,” Michael scoffed. Alex took the steps three at a time and disappeared inside the door before Michael could even start to climb. He raced just as fast.

Entering the room felt like entering a whole new world. It was very clearly old with the way the tree had begun to grow inside, but it looked like it was very well kempt otherwise. It wasn’t hard to realize that was Alex’s doing as he very comfortably landed on the massive bean bag chair in the middle of the room.

“What is this place?” Michael asked, slowly beginning to walk around the room. The more he walked, the more it felt like Alex. There was a massive empty space to the left of the bean bag bed and the tree limbs that had invaded the windows were groomed to be shelves. One had a cardigan draped over it and the other had a participation trophy with a ballerina on top. Behind the trophy was a certificate announcing that Alex Manes had danced his way to win a countywide competition at age 12.

“I found it when I was 14 and I started hiding out here when things got bad at home,” Alex answered. Michael looked over to him at the brutally honest admission, but Alex had eyes that didn’t give him space to inquire what exactly bad meant for him. “The lady who owns the property found out I was staying here and, instead of kicking me off her property, she made special windows that would fit around the limbs so I wouldn’t have to worry so much about animals at night.”

“That was nice,” Michael said, only now noticing that there were indeed windows. He wondered how she even made those.

“Yeah, she’s awesome. Our deal is that I get her groceries so she doesn’t have to go into town and I can stay here for free.”

“Wait, you live here?” Michael asked, eyes widening accidentally. Alex shrugged, shifting in the bean bag bed. It was hard to picture that someone like Alex could live in a place without running water. He always looked so nice. He went to a rich school for fuck’s sake.

“I couldn’t stay at home.”

“How do you go to AKSA then?” Michael asked, standing in the middle of the floor and staring at the boy in the bean bag. Alex leaned back slowly, his hair pooling around him as he looked up to Michael. It made Michael feel weird for some reason.

“Scholarship.”

“Why’d you show me this?” Michael said a little softer. He didn’t understand why he was worthy of this information. He’d never been worthy of anything in his life.

“I bet you could use the competition as your audition,” Alex admitted. That caught Michael off guard.

“Huh?”

And Alex just shrugged and patted the bean bag beside him.

Michael complied and tried not to think about what he’d just said.

“Am I loose enough?” Alex asked as they settled into the bean bag. Truly, it was big enough that they didn’t have to touch. They could’ve easily been only opposite sides without a problem. Instead, they met in the middle. Michael wanted to kiss him more than he’d ever wanted to kiss anyone in his entire life.

Typically, a thousand shitty things would flood his mind to make fun of him or flirt with him would come to his mind. He wanted to now. He wanted to make a joke. Instead, he whispered, “Yeah.”

Alex took a deep breath, his dark eyes flickering over Michael’s face. He was so close. So, so, so close. Michael clenched and unclenched his fists a million times as he tried to decide what was and was not okay when it came to Alex Manes. Fuck, he still had no idea if Alex was even into guys. He’d never said he was, but he never said he wasn’t and it sometimes seemed like he might be.

Before he could ask, cold fingertips pressed to his hip. Michael held his breath. He focused completely on the sensation of Alex slowly dragging his fingers over his side and up to his jaw. It wasn’t really anywhere Alex hadn’t touched before when they were dancing, but this was something else entirely and it was making him feel dizzy. Maybe the holding his breath part wasn’t really helping, but still.

“Is this okay?” Alex asked as the pads of his fingers fanned over Michael’s jaw. He finally breathed and it was horribly shaky. Which was bullshit. He’d kissed before‒done a lot more than kiss before‒but this seemed to have him fucked up ten times over.

It had everything to do with the way Alex welcomed him into his space. This was a fragile gift that Michael had to take care of. He was terrified.

“Yes.”

Slowly, Alex leaned in and kissed him. It was slow and shaky and short. When it ended, Alex took a deep breath and opened his eyes to make sure that it was still okay. Michael thought he was floating.

“I’ve never done that before,” Alex whispered. Michael rubbed his arm, holding him close and waiting for permission to kiss him again.

“Done what?”

“Kissed someone. Not for real, only… only in plays,” Alex admitted, gulping. His hand was still on Michael’s cheek and he seemed frozen just a few centimeters away from his lips. Typically that admission would scare the shit out of Michael and he would find an excuse to leave, but this time he couldn’t find the fear. Or not the fear of that. He was only scared that he’d ruin it.

“Do you wanna stop?” Michael wondered. He really hoped he wouldn’t want to, but he would if he wasn’t ready.

Alex didn’t give a verbal answer, only moving in and kissing him senseless.

Michael stayed until well past dark.

“I hate dropping you off,” Alex all but whined as they decided to wrap up their rehearsal for the day, “I just wanna take you home with me.”

“You could always stay,” Michael said, fiddling with the ends of his hair that he’d been wearing down a lot more now, “They wouldn’t suspect a thing.”

“Tempting, but no,” he hummed. Michael smiled and shook his head, leaning in for an all too chaste kiss. They had so many of those and Michael was overwhelmed with them sometimes. It seemed every other person he kissed was all with the intention to get them in bed within the next hour. With Alex, he still was scared to break it.

Two weeks. Two weeks of both dancing and making out with Alex Manes. It was the best two weeks of his entire life. They hadn’t told anyone for selfish reasons only, enjoying the ability to dance and dance and dance and then have it turn into something more without anyone suspecting anything.

It helped even more that they’d showed their dance to the Dean. If all went well, Michael would be starting the next semester as a new dance student of AKSA. He didn’t know he even wanted that until he was told he might be allowed to have it. Now all he could think about was what else Alex could make him realize he was allowed to have.

“You need better deodorant, your sweat smells like you took a shower in must,” Alex murmured against his lips. Michael scoffed.

“You’re such an ass.”

“I am not, I’m helping.”

“Helping? Helping?”

Alex’s laughter rang through the room as Michael’s fingers dug into his side, slowly bringing them both the floor as he tickled him. He didn’t stop until he was firmly on top of him and had replaced the tickling with kisses on his neck. Maybe Michael’s sweat was horrific, but Alex’s wasn’t. It was something borderline addictive. It was all too easy to drag his tongue over Alex’s damp collarbone and up his glistening throat.

“You’re disgusting,” Alex said, but it held a lot less venom than his insults usually did. The way he tightened his arms around Michael’s shoulders didn’t go unnoticed. “We-we should probably not do this here.”

“Seriously, sneak in tonight,” Michael whispered, “The showcase is soon and we won’t get to mess around as much.”

Alex shoved gently at his shoulders, though, and Michael took that as his cue to sit up. He stared up at him with those big dark eyes again.

“I can’t,” Alex said, shaking his head and sitting up, “I… I have to…”

“If you don’t want to spend the night with me, that’s fine. I won’t be angry,” Michael promised. It hurt a little bit, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew that was all on him.

“Okay, then I don’t want to spend the night with you. Not yet, at least,” Alex said and then his shoulders squared and that hardened look in his eye returned. It was the first time Michael noticed the transformation. He admired it. “I have a lot more important shit to focus on than whatever goes on in your mind and you know that.”

“I do.”

“Good. Don’t be late to practice tomorrow or you’re walking home,” Alex said as he stood to his feet. Michael smiled at him. He was perfect.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m so excited!”

“Me too.”

Michael hovered in the doorway as he watched Maria and Alex talk after class. She was springing with joy that she was all better and could come back and get back to dancing. That morning, Michael had been happy for her. Now, watching her take Alex back made him realize that he’d jumped to quickly to celebrate.

Alex glanced over at him with that same blank look that Michael couldn’t read. Usually, he loved it. Right now, it was like being shot in the foot with his own gun.

“Alex,” Michael said as he made his way over to them. Maria looked over him like she had just put it together in that moment as well. Her getting her partner back meant fucking over Michael. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Alex nodded and they stepped off to the side.

“So, what, you’re just going to go back to dancing with her?” Michael asked softly. Alex nodded again and lifted his arms to pull his hair back into the low bun. “But what about me trying to audition? Our routine was what was going to get me my in.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t just bail on her. She’s worked her ass off, she deserves to show off to the people that are coming,” Alex told him. Michael furrowed his eyebrows. He knew that. He knew that better than anyone, he lived with her. But still. Maria had a lot of things. This was Michael’s one thing.

“Okay, but this was‒”

“I’m sorry,” Alex said again, “Maybe you can find another partner.”

“It sort of feels like your breaking up with me,” Michael said and when Alex didn’t respond, he scoffed, “Dude, what the fuck? You’re just going to cut ties with me because I can’t be a fancy dancer?”

“No, we’re just very different and I’ve realized that my career is more important than some guy,” Alex said simply. It was cold and hardened and Michael knew it was the mask. “My routine with Maria is what I’ve been working on for months before I spent a little time working with you. That’s what will help my career.”

“Okay, Alex,” Michael scoffed, shaking his head, “Okay. I thought we established you could be honest to my face and I won’t get mad.”

Alex stared at him for a moment. Michael waited for the painful truth.

“It’s easier if I don’t get attached to you,” Alex admitted softly. It was a lot less painful than Michael was expecting.

“You say that like I’m not already attached to you,” Michael told him. Again, he stared. “Look, Alex, why can’t we‒”

“It’s a bad idea. This was a bad idea in the first place.”

“I thought you were loosening up.”

“Maybe I loosened too much.”

Michael nodded slowly and tried not to take it to heart. If this is what Alex wanted, then who was he to argue otherwise?

“Oka, whatever. I’ll see you around,” Michael said, huffing a laugh, “Actually, no. I won’t.”

He left the room and tried not to be too pissed. How silly of him to think he could have nice things.

“Mopey, mopey, mopey Mikey.”

Michael groaned into his pillow at the sound of Mimi’s voice. He knew he had been moping for the last week, but he couldn’t help it. He got a taste of something real, something better, and it was just snatched away from him because he wasn’t good enough. Again.

“I’m not leaving until we talk,” Mimi insisted, her voice getting closer. His bed shifted as she sat beside him. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Nothing,” Michael grumbled.

“Yeah, okay, I don’t believe that,” Mimi said, “Can I hold your hand?” Michael grunted in response, but he would be lying if he said the motherly way she squeezed his hand didn’t make him feel better. “What’s wrong?”

After a minute of silence, Michael finally answered, “I had a chance to audition for Ark Kingdom and… now I can’t.”

Mimi tensed up and her heels tapped quietly on the floor, but she pushed away her excitement for him. Moments like that made him feel like the most loved man in the world. He shifted a little bit to look up at her.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I was dancing with Alex and, when Maria got better, he sort of just dropped me for her. And I know it’s stupid because it’s her school and it’s her dance, but I just… I don’t know, I liked feeling like I had potential for once,” he admitted. Mimi gave him a sad little smile and squeezed his hand tighter.

“You still have potential even without the school. You are so smart and apparently talented, not that you’ve ever shown me any dance moves,” she teased. He gave a small smile, but it didn’t last long. He was angry about the school and he was angry about losing a chance at something more, but he couldn’t help but feel sad about not being with Alex. He liked kissing him and he liked dancing with him and he liked being allowed in his safe place. He felt welcome. Turns out he’d spent so much time scared he might fuck things up with Alex that he never even considered the fact that Alex might’ve done the fucking. “Oh wait, I know that look. Are you upset about the school or about the boy?”

Michael scrunched up his nose. “Both?”

Mimi rolled her eyes. “You know you can get one of those things back, don’t you?”

“I don’t think I can. He seemed pretty set on career first, fuck anyone else,” Michael explained. Mimi squeezed his hand again.

“How about this, come to their performance tonight. We can bring flowers for the both of them and maybe it’ll give you an excuse to talk to him,” she suggested. Michael groaned again. He really didn’t want to go. As much as he loved watching Alex dance, it just felt like torture to watch him. He wasn’t wanted anymore. “Come on.”

“That feels like torture.”

“Well, you’ve been in bed all week. You need to get up anyway, might as well try to win your boy back,” Mimi said. Michael still frowned. “Let’s go.”

“And if he rejects me?”

“Then he’s not worth it.”

Michael very reluctantly agreed, but only because he had no idea how to tell her that he was worth everything.

“He’s been just as miserable as you, you know?”

Michael ignored Maria as they drove. She had to be at the venue early, so they were leaving early and they would simply wait until showtime. Mimi and Maria sat up from and Michael sat in the back beside two bouquets of flowers.

“He misses you,” Maria continued. Michael stared out the window. Alex hadn’t once tried to talk to him, so it didn’t seem like she was telling the truth. If he missed him so much, where was he?

“Michael, I think you should go talk to him,” Mimi chimed in.

“I’ll figure it out when we get there. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t,” Michael grumbled. He didn’t have to look to know that both women rolled their eyes at him.

The idea of trying to make nice with Alex felt like a stupid, pointless thing to do. Alex was pretty dead set on wanting to focus on his career and not have to worry about boys. It was a valid thing, too. Michael couldn’t even fault him. Sure, it fucked him over, but that was just the name of the game.

Alex was gifted and a hard worker. Michael shouldn’t expect anything on par with that when he hadn’t even started striving for anything until he met Alex.

Michael got out of the car after Maria and could feel her eyes on him. They had been on him for the last week. He knew she felt bad, but he also knew she had no reason to be. She had been dancing with Alex since the beginning of the school year. Michael just swooped in and stole him, so she had every right to take him back. Still, she seemed to be guilty.

“Michael,” she said, pulling him off the side as Mimi went to walk into the lobby, “I think you should go dance with him.” Michael furrowed his eyebrows.

“What?”

“I think you should go dance with Alex and try to get in,” she insisted, sincerity on her face. He shook his head.

“No, are you crazy? You’ve worked so hard for this, I’m not taking it from you,” he told her. She shrugged.

“My ankle is still sore, it’s not as good as it could be, I’ll just be holding him back,” Maria said, but he wasn’t sure how much truth that held.

“But your routine will help his career, that’s what they want to see.”

“Our routine is just that. A routine. What you guys came up with will get you both further,” she insisted. Michael simply stared at her and tried to find another way to say no. Not only was this not fair to her, but Alex also didn’t want to dance with him. He didn’t want to ruin both of their shots. “Listen, I’ll dance at the end of the year showcase, I’ll be fine. This is important for both of you.”

“Alex doesn’t want to dance with me,” Michael tried. Maria scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, he really does. Just go make him see that you’re serious about it,” she said, shoving his shoulder, “Break a leg. It’ll be great.”

“Why are you doing this for me?” Michael asked softly. Maria simply smiled.

“You’re my brother. I want what’s best for you.”

Michael’s throat tightened and grabbed her in a tight hug. Maybe he could have nice things.

“Alex! Alex, hey, wait!”

Alex looked more annoyed than ever as he turned around and Michael almost forgot what he was going to say. He was in a pair of black tights, a black form-fitting jacket-like shirt, and a pair of black ballet shoes. His hair was slicked back into a low bun like it always was, but his make-up was done up all nice and glittery. He looked like a vision.

“What do you want?” Alex asked with a sigh.

“I want to dance with you,” Michael said. Alex furrowed his eyebrows. “Please let me.”

“But Maria‒”

“She already said it was okay,” Michael insisted. Standing in front of Alex again and knowing that he had a chance had him nearly bouncing with desperation. He wanted to dance with him again. He wanted to touch him again. He wanted to feel important again. “Look, when we first met, you said I was disrespectful. And then I apologized, but I don’t think I knew just how disrespectful I really was until I started dancing with you. You showed me how much hard work went into it and how good it felt to succeed. You showed me that I could be something more, that I could, like, have respect and that it would mean something. I want it to mean something again.”

Alex shook his head, huffing a laugh. “Everyone here worked their ass off. You got lucky. Why should you get rewarded?” Michael smiled at him.

“Yeah, I did get lucky. I met you,” Michael said. Alex closed his eyes. “And I’m not saying anything has to go back to how it was or anything, I just want a chance to prove myself. I want to be someone better. I know you don’t want to get attached to me and I respect that, but please. Let me dance with you.”

“One condition,” Alex said softly. Michael smiled.

“Anything.”

“Go get your tights and your make-up on.”

Michael rolled his eyes, but agreed with a small, “Absolutely.”

By the time it got to their turn to perform, Michael was dressed up similarly to Alex. Black tights, black shirt, black ballet shoes, and his makeup was done just the same. As nervous as he was, he was all but bouncing to get on stage and do all the things he spent practicing with Alex. He wanted to impress everyone. He wanted to show them he wasn’t just a criminal.

They stood in the left wing and Alex grabbed his hand. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of it and all the nerves bled from his system.

“Don’t fuck this up,” Alex said in a low voice. Michael smiled and they made their way on stage.

Just like the first time, moving with Alex was natural. It didn’t feel like they’d missed a week of practice. It felt like this was what they were made to do. This was it. This was life.

Even if they had fucked up, Michael knew that Alex was intoxicating as he spun with his glittery face under the lights. He almost got lost in it, but not so lost that he didn’t catch him. They leaped, they spun, they became entwined. It was hard to deny anything.

The piece ended with them both on the floor, poised and posed and facing one another with heavy breaths. People cheered for them, but the only thing Michael could see was Alex. The lights faded and Michael helped him to his feet, exiting the stage before pulling him into a hug.

Surprisingly, Alex hugged back.

“I’m already attached,” Alex whispered to him. Michael hugged him tighter.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh my god! That was amazing!” Mimi squealed once they exited the green room. She and Maria were already waiting for them and, while Michael entirely expected that, Alex didn’t and he clung to Michael’s shoulder for a moment.

“Thanks,” they both said.

“I knew I made the right choice,” Maria said, grinning very proudly at herself.

“You’re going to take credit for how well we did, aren’t you?” Michael asked.

“Absolutely.”

“I’m so proud of you!” Mimi said, stealing back the attention to shower them in more praise. She hugged them both tightly and it occurred to Michael that Alex probably wasn’t used to this level of love either. He gave him an encouraging smile. “I had no idea you could dance like that!”

“I learned from the best,” Michael grinned.

“We taught him so well,” Maria told her.

“Oh, shut up.”

“We need to go out to dinner to celebrate! Alex, can you come too, sweetie?” Mimi asked. Alex blinked and looked to Michael before nodding. “Awesome! Oh, this is‒”

“Mr. Guerin, may I have a word with you?” Everyone turned towards the voice to see the Dean standing there. With a squeeze to Alex’s hand, Michael nodded and stepped over to her.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I don’t want to keep you from your family,” she said, glancing over to the DeLucas. Family. He smiled. “But you have an appointment in my office Monday morning at 6 AM. Don’t be late and bring your transcripts.”

“Wait, so I got in?” he asked. She smiled.

“You really proved yourself up there. That took hard work.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” he gushed. She nodded and patted his shoulder before letting him go back to Maria, Mimi, and Alex.

“So?” Alex asked first, giving him one of the most genuine smiles Michael had ever seen him give in front of other people.

“I got in.”

In an instant, Alex was kissing him and then his family was hugging him and he was loved. He was lucky and he was loved.

He was going to be someone.

#my 12 days #malex #malex fic #malex au #michael guerin #michael guerin fic #alex manes #alex manes fic #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #rn #rnm #rnm fic #my fic

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haro-whumps · 4 years

Text

Box Boy Photoshoot

(CW: slavery, brainwashing, dehumanization, creepy+intimate whumper)

Tag list: @thatsthewhump @whump-it @ashintheairlikesnow @fairybean101 @finder-of-rings @comfortforthepain @shameless-whumper @that-one-thespian @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @raigash @im-not-rare-im-rarr @spiffythespook

Masterlist

“Hello, ma’am?”

Ren was blithely ignoring Soren’s second week of lyric dancing, their laptop out in front of them and a mug of cider steaming softly nearby. Soren was sweaty and panting hard on the other side of the glass, the sole student of this particular dance instructor, and thus, the recipient of her undivided attention.

Across from them, a man in a suit was sitting down. The table was built for one.

“Hello, ma’am!” he tried again, and again Ren did not lift their eyes from their computer screen. But they supposed he wouldn’t leave if they only ignored him.

“Not a ma’am,” they said blandly.

“Ah, hello sir?”

“Not a sir,” they said with a sip from their mug, eyes still on their laptop.

“Valued customer!” the man said brightly. They lifted their eyes and paused their music, but their headphones remained in. “I am a representative of Whumpee’s-R-Us’s marketing team, Jon Dillan!” he said brightly, extending his hand over the top of Ren’s laptop. Ren shook the outstretched hand, then immediately pulled out their bottle of travel hand sanitizer and did not care that he could see them squirt out a bit and coat their hands. They knew the statistics about men and public bathrooms. Filthy things, men’s hands.

“A pleasure to meet you, I’m sure,” Ren said flatly, still not sure why their Monday evening was being interrupted, but curious enough to scrounge up some manners. After all, if this man proved valuable, they could definitely use him.

“We here at Whumpee’s-R-Us are releasing a new advertising campaign, encouraging the destitute and desperate to exchange their lives for comfort and splendor, and perhaps sparking a little good-natured competition among valued customers like yourself to buy our more lavish products,” Jon said with a wink that might have been sly and conspiratory if he weren’t holding himself so stiffly. Ren did have to give him points for his facial expressions, though, if only his spine weren’t… like that.

“I see,” Ren prompted, removing one earbud. Jon did not miss it, and took the cue as Ren had intended it.

“We’ve noticed that your pet is very well cared for, as well as quite attractive, in a perfectly objective sense,” Jon rushed on the last part, holding up a hand in easy submission. Ren’s possessive flare of emotion sputtered in their chest, unshown and largely unfelt. Yes, Soren was attractive, and yes, Ren did like flaunting that fact, and they appreciated that the man quelled their other concerns so they could simply enjoy showing off their lovely, lovely boy. “Would you have any interest in allowing us to feature him in our campaign?”

“That depends,” Ren said, removing their other earbud. “What would featuring him entail?”

“Largely just photographs, ideally within your home so as to illustrate the lavish life available to those who sign up for the program. A brief interview would be conducted, mostly just to mine for quotable material, and you will, of course, be compensated for the use of your pet. A standardized rate is, quite naturally, more than available to you, however, we also noticed that you bring your box boy here frequently for classes, and my supervisor has approved offering you unlimited free classes for all and any of your Whumpee’s-R-Us brand pets, present and future, should you so desire it.”

Ren tapped their index fingers in front of their chin, the rest of their fingers steepled, and then asked, “Would you be negotiable towards adding harpist courses, if I choose the second arrangement?” Soren had dance on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, so, “On Sundays, specifically.” Their angel playing a harp on Sunday. Perfect.

“I can certainly look into it!” Jon said amicably, and Ren shut their laptop, lacing their fingers and resting their chin on the backs, staring vacantly at Soren. The lyric dance instructor had taken two warnings not to touch property that wasn’t hers, but had remained hands-off since.

Ren weighed the pros and cons. They liked showing off; a lot. They liked the idea of other people knowing that Soren was theirs, that he was their precious, beautiful pet. They liked the idea of free classes, and since emailing the company hadn’t worked, strong-arming them into adding harp lessons was just as well, as long as Ren’s goal was accomplished in the end. Their home would be the setting, secure, their domain. There was nothing that came immediately to mind in way of downsides.

“Draft up a contract and email it to me; I’d prefer to look over it before forwarding it to my lawyer,” Ren said, digging out a business card and handing it to Jon. “In the contract, ensure that there is a statute that all photographers, interviewers, and assorted Whumpee’s-R-Us staff will not touch the pet in question, and that they will remove their shoes and any coats or jackets in the entryway or foyer.” They didn’t want dirt and germs getting tracked all over their carpets.

Jon seemed a little taken aback by the second point, though perfectly expectant of the first.

“If harp lessons can be provided, I would prefer the option of free classes. If not, I am negotiable on the fee, but will largely be leaving that to the discretion of my lawyer.” Well, their mama’s lawyer, but she’d been their lawyer for as long as they’d needed one, so she could certainly be counted as theirs.

“Marvelous,” Jon said with a bright smile, and extended his hand again, before thinking the better of it.

“Agreed,” Ren said, lifting their mug with a tilt of their head, and then took a sip. They’d spent enough time contemplating the offer that the class was now over, Soren coming into the viewing area on shaking legs and sinking to his knees at Ren’s feet. On reflex, they carded their fingers through his (damp, sweaty) hair.

“Well, I’d better get on that then. I’ll send you the contract as soon as it’s drafted, and it was a pleasure speaking with you…” Jon glanced at the business card. “Ren.”

“Likewise. I look forward to our arrangement.”

Soren glanced up at Jon’s retreating back, then turned his big, doe-eyes on Ren. “Exalted?”

Ren smiled down at him. “You just might be a model, Soren,” Ren said, “In all likelihood, you will be. Whumpee’s-R-Us need pretty little Box Boys in their new homes for a campaign they’re running, and you’re terribly pretty, and I have a very lovely home. They’re going to come take your picture and ask you a couple questions, sometime sooner or later.”

Soren’s hand lifted to his collar, gripping it gently, and Ren smiled at the sight. “And, you’ll be there?”

“The whole time, angel,” Ren said. Like they’d ever allow strangers to wander about their home unsupervised, and like they’d ever leave Soren alone with any of them.

Soren smiled up with relief, with devotion, and Ren kissed their sweaty hairline. “Come, pet, let’s get you home and in the shower.”

“Yes, Ren,” Soren said with a contented sigh.

The next evening, Ren received an email containing the contract, which they read over. They did have a degree in law, a minor, but still, so they largely understood it and approved of its contents, but forwarded it to their lawyer anyway to double check. She had one suggested revision, which Ren took, and the Whumpee’s-R-Us legal department accepted it without fuss. Wednesday, Soren had ballet classes, so it was Thursday that a modest crew appeared on Ren’s front doorstep.

“Welcome, please remove your shoes,” they greeted, holding the door open. They’d taken great pleasure in dressing Soren up just so, that day, and he struck a particularly beautiful figure, hanging nervously behind Ren. His hair was long again, long enough that Ren wasn’t going to buy any more of the specialized products for growth, now focusing on maintenance and hair health, and the color was that perfect gold. All the time spent on the balcony had left his skin honeyed and deeply freckled once more. He was wearing fluttering white and off-white clothing, the sleeves rippling bells around his wrists, the pants loose with a skirt cape trailing the carpet behind him. And all over him was gold, golden jewelry, golden makeup, gold nails, a gold belt.

They snapped a couple photos of Soren in the living room, perched in the kitchen, but Ren suspected those were just warm up shots. Soren’s room was obviously the location for the photos, more to the point, and better suited to Soren’s appearance. They took many photos in Soren’s bedroom, some of him settled on the settee, some with him snuggled comfortably, though lavishly, on his overly plush bed, the cushions and the duvet half-hiding his face, golden hair giving him a curtain that added intrigue. The balcony shots were particularly appealing, the wind was really working with them that day, and when a particularly strong gust blew a lock of hair into Soren’s face and he instinctively reached up to push it back, the camera shutter sounded like a quiet machine gun, it was going off so fast.

He was so candid, so genuinely sweet and precious, so beautiful, the photographers hardly had to do more than vaguely direct him and they were provided with more material than they had likely anticipated.

“If we may interview the pet, now?” the woman in charge asked Ren, and they nodded their head with a sweep of their hand as though to say “go ahead.”

“And I will, naturally, be receiving every one of those photos, as per our arrangement,” Ren mentioned to the photographer, who was flipping through the camera, skimming through the selection. He gave them a good natured chuckle and a quick thumbs-up.

The interview really was just a mine for quotes, and Soren spent a large portion of it with his hand on his collar, smoothing his thumb over the plate that bore his name. Soren. The name that Ren had given him, the inscription proof that they owned every inch of him, from his body to his mind down to his very identity.

“Soren,” Ren called when they were done, “Heel.”

Soren was at their feet in and instant, pressed up against their leg, his body singing with relief. “Well done, darling.” Ren turned their eyes to the photographer. “One more?” Ren suggested, before squatting down, hand on the curve of Soren’s neck, and pressed a kiss to his temple. The camera shutter clicked.

“And yes, you may use that in your campaign if you want,” Ren said airily, standing back up. Soren looked up at them with an adoring smile, and followed after as Ren saw the crew out.

“Do you really think they’ll use me, Exalted?” Soren asked quietly after the door had closed, watching their cars and van turning on through the panel windows.

Ren tweaked his nose between two fingers, jiggling his head a little. “Of course, darling, they’d be fools not to.”

Ren went to pour themself a drink, and then mentioned, off-handedly. “Oh, and you’re enrolled in harp classes on Sundays, now.”

#whump #slavery #dehumanization #pet #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #possessive behavior #this chapter is mostly just a setup for future events #brainwashing #ren #soren #mine #writing #box boy #bbu #slave #dependency

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cyborgsquirrel · 4 years

Text

Sanctuary: Chapter 22

Pairing: Wolfstar

Summary: The epic tale of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, from their first meeting until their happily ever after.

Link to Prologue

Link to All Chapters

Monday, 8th November 1971, 1:45 pm Remus was sitting next to Peter in Charms class as far away as he could get while still being at the desk. The accident at the Quidditch match the day before had been a sobering reminder of how many risks he'd been taking. It had been stupid and reckless to attend the Quidditch match. Sirius insisted that their skin hadn't touched, but he was worried sick. Maybe it had, and he just hadn't noticed. He didn't know what to do; tell someone, or wait and see? On the one hand, if he told Professor Dumbledore, and he had been right and the Headmaster was unaware of how infectious he was, he might be asked to leave the school, even if Sirius was fine. On the other hand, if he told no one and Sirius was infected... Well, a lot of people could die.

He could afford to hold off on making a decision, though. The next full moon was over three weeks away. If he kept an eye on Sirius, he should notice if there were any signs of lycanthropy in him. Sensitivity to smells and sounds, for example, or acting like he was in pain when he moved around. He wouldn't be as used to hiding pain as Remus was.

They were practising Alohomora in class that afternoon, and Remus, Sirius, James and a few other students all easily unlocked the full range of locks they were given to practise on, and Professor Flitwick gave a demonstration of Colloportus and told them to attempt to relock them. He also promised a fun lesson as a final practical the following day. The students chattered with excitement at the news. Remus couldn't find it in himself to feel excited, despite how legendary Flitwick's "fun practicals" were. He couldn't stop thinking about the possibility that he'd infected his best friend and cursed him to a life of pain, suffering and prejudice. Sirius would probably never speak to him again, and who could blame him? He'd been so selfish. It didn't take him long to get the hang of the locking spell, and as he re-locked the last of the locks on his desk, he noted how pleased Madam Pomfrey would be that she no longer needed to take him all the way down the tunnel to lock him in. Of course, she would still have to come down after the full moon to get him and carry his injured, bleeding body back to the hospital wing. He was still a burden; he would always be a burden. Better to shut himself off so no one would have to suffer with him. The rest of the week continued similarly, with Remus keeping his distance from everyone. Including his friends. He returned to his old routine of eating alone in the kitchens and spent all of his free time alone in a deserted corner of the library. The other Marauders seemed to be understanding of his behaviour, but it was wearing on their friendship, and he kept catching them whispering in corners and passing notes in class that never got passed to him. He told himself it was for the best. It was safer for them to not be around him. Safer for everyone. But gods did it hurt. The fun practical in Charms turned out to be another maze, this one with locked doors in their path. Remus smiled throughout and joined in with his friends joking, but inside, he felt hollow. Dead. Sirius had yet to show any signs of infection, but it was far too early to say. The symptoms wouldn't show until three days before the moon at the earliest. Maybe not even until the day of. If he had been infected, he would have no time to prepare. Not that you even could prepare yourself for the agonising pain of your body ripping itself apart and rebuilding. Sirius would never forgive him. How could he? In Transfiguration, they had moved on from altering an object's shape, material and colour, and were working on the states of matter, specifically turning a liquid into a gas, in their case water into steam. A few people suffered minor burns when they were unexpectedly successful. Remus kept his eye on Sirius. If he burnt himself, would it immediately heal? He couldn't remember much about his time in hospital after he was bitten. It was all a blur. How long did it take for the regeneration abilities to kick in? It didn't matter in the end. Sirius didn't burn himself; he was far too skilled for that. They tended their flitterblooms and flutterby bushes in Herbology. It was the easiest class for Remus. The natural scents of plants and compost eased his mind, and having the gloves on made him more relaxed. His friends seemed happy that he was connecting with them again, but when the class was over and he was once again distant, he could see the disappointment on their faces and felt like shit. He should never have allowed himself to get close to them in the first place. It had been stupid and selfish. He wasn't safe to be around. When Saturday morning arrived, Remus spent breakfast alone in the kitchen as usual. He wasn't looking forward to the weekend. It would be the first one he spent alone since becoming friends with the Marauders, and he knew it was going to be painful. He didn't even have the chocolate-flavoured nutrition potion to cheer him up, as Madam Pomfrey had decided he only needed it the day after the full moon. He thanked Breen for the food and left the kitchen, feeling utterly miserable, and almost walked straight into Sirius, who took a swift step backwards to avoid the collision. Remus looked up to find all three of his friends waiting for him. 'You,' James said, pointing at him, 'are coming with us.' Remus shook his head. 'I'm going to--' 'The library,' Sirius said, crossing his arms. 'Yes, we know.' Peter shook his head. 'Not today, you're not. You're coming back to the dorm with us.' James nodded. 'We've had enough of you avoiding us.' Remus felt thoroughly ganged up on, and he slumped his shoulders in defeat. 'Fine,' he snapped. 'I know, it's such a hardship, having friends that care about you,' Sirius said, shaking his head sadly. 'I'm afraid that you're just going to have to grin and bear it. Because you're stuck with us.' 'Forever!' James added, his tone laden with doom. Remus chuckled despite himself and followed them up to the dorm. They walked in silence; Remus had no idea what to say to them, and it seemed obvious that whatever they had to say, they wanted to do it privately. When they arrived, they told him to sit down, and they stood in front of his bed in a line and launched into what appeared to be a well-rehearsed speech. 'We know you're freaked out by what happened at the Quidditch match,' Sirius said. James nodded. 'And we can't even begin to imagine how scary that was for you.' 'But we miss you,' Peter said. 'It's not the same without you.' 'We're your friends and we're the Marauders,' Sirius said. 'And one of the rules in the Marauders code is that a Marauder always helps a fellow Marauder.' All three of them nodded, their faces deadly serious. This was not a joke to them. 'Obviously we can't prevent you from being touched at all, although we will do our best,' James said. 'But we noticed that you're more scared about your skin being touched than when it's through your clothes.' 'And that was something we thought we could help with,' Peter said. 'So James wrote to his dad,' Sirius said. 'And he found these.' Sirius handed him a box. 'We all chipped in to pay for them.' 'Open it,' James said. Remus stared at the box for a moment, glanced up at his friends who were watching him, and back at the box, before peeling back the lid and peeking at the contents. It was a pair of gloves and a hood, with holes for his eyes and mouth. He pulled them out. They were pale white and incredibly thin. 'They're made from kelpie skin, so I wouldn't wear them in Defence class, Emhio might get upset if she notices,' Sirius said. 'But when you put them on, they'll take on the exact appearance of your skin underneath, so no one will know you're wearing them.' 'We figured you probably wouldn't want to wear the hood all the time, but it'll be useful if you have to be somewhere really crowded,' James said with a shrug. Remus didn't know what to say. They must have cost a huge amount of money. 'This is too much. I can't let you do this,' he said, putting them back in the box. 'You have to return them, get your money back.' 'Are you questioning our commitment to the Marauders' code?' James asked, crossing his arms. 'You need help, we have the ability to provide it. It's our duty to buy you these.' He shoved the box back into Remus' hands. 'I'm not sending them back, so if you don't use them, it will just be a waste of money.' Remus' eyes were burning with emotion. 'I don't know what to say. Thank you. All of you.' 'You're welcome,' Sirius said. 'So, will you start hanging out with us again now?' Remus grinned at his friends through his tears. 'Yes, I think I will.' All three of them whooped with happiness, and Remus swallowed the hard lump that had formed in his throat. They really were the best friends in the world. But if they ever found out what he was, would that change? Would the rule about keeping secrets extend as far as lycanthropy? He doubted it. Who would ever want to be friends with a werewolf? Even his own dad could barely stand to look at him. He had to be prepared to lose them one day. His secret couldn't stay secret forever.

-o-o-o-o-

James' dad was a genius, and Sirius wanted to kiss him. The gloves had been the best idea ever. Remus was eating in the Great Hall with them again, and he was back to being relaxed and happy around them, though Sirius could swear Remus was watching him a lot. He kept catching him looking at him. Did Remus suspect that he knew? Should he say something? Reassure him? He had no idea. The last thing he wanted to do was scare him off again. The week went by fast. On Wednesday, they started working on a new charm with a lot of potential; Locomotor. While similar to wingardium leviosa, the object would only float a few inches high, and it had a longer casting range. As far as the other side of the Great Hall, James had pointed out with a wink. Sirius had grinned. There were a few Slytherins that needed to be punished. They had come across them picking on a first-year a few days previously but had been unable to intervene at the time as they were under the cloak. Wednesday afternoon, they had earned themselves detention using locomotor to tip over four pitchers of pumpkin juice on four particular Slytherin laps. It was completely worth it, and they took the punishment dished out by Minnie with good grace. Polishing the trophies in the trophy room was kind of fun, anyway. A great way to use up some of his excess energy, while also admiring his reflection in the shiny surfaces. They all worked hard in Transfiguration on Thursday. The lessons had moved on to turning water into ice, and they all agreed it would be useful for the Christmas feast event. They hadn't discussed what they were going to do yet, but ice and Christmas seemed like they went together almost as well as Marauders and mischief. On Thursday afternoon, they had their first attempt at making a hiccoughing solution in Potions. Only Peter was successful, though James and Sirius both earned As. Remus earned a T when his cauldron started emitting a high-pitched whine before the potion inside vanished with a bang and a puff of smoke. While Slughorn was distracted, Peter swiftly filled a few vials from his own cauldron and slipped them into his bag. They would undoubtedly come in useful at some point. By Friday evening, the sky had filled with ominous dark clouds, and the air hung heavy with the smell of rain. Sirius was nervous. It would be his first storm at Hogwarts, and he really didn't like storms. They bought memories he didn't want to think about. He was going to embarrass himself; he knew it. When lightning lit up the dorm for the first time, he managed to stifle his yelp, and he was pretty sure the thunder that rumbled a minute later was loud enough to cover his whimper, but that wouldn't last. He knew from experience that by the time the storm had passed, he'd be a blubbering mess. Hiding was his only option. He couldn't let his friends see him in that state. It was humiliating. Sirius got up to go to the bathroom, planning to hide out in a shower cubicle until it was over. He could say he was having a very long shower if anyone asked. Halfway across the floor to the bathroom, though, another flash of lightning struck, and the thunder was close on its tail. He jumped about a foot in the air and squealed. James glanced up from the letter he was writing. 'You alright, mate?' 'Yeah, just made me jump,' he said, and to his great embarrassment, his voice came out shaky. James frowned at him. 'You're paler than Remus. Are you scared of storms?' 'No!' Sirius said, a little too fast and a little too loud. James held up his hands in surrender. 'Alright, no need to get defensive. I was just going to offer to sleep with you if you needed company.' Sirius hesitated. 'You'd do that?' 'Course,' James said with a shrug like it was no big deal. 'We're the Marauders, right? You need help, I'm here.' Sirius tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to having people who cared so much about him that they'd share his bed during a storm just so he wouldn't be scared. 'Okay, I admit it. I'm a total baby, and I'm terrified of storms. And I'd really like to sleep with you if that's okay?' James didn't say a word, just pulled back his covers and patted the spot on the mattress next to him. Sirius bounded over and climbed in, pulling the covers up to his neck and lying down. James put his parchment and quill away and scooted down in the bed, putting his arm around Sirius. 'You're not a baby. You just have really shitty parents,' he whispered. When the next flash of lightning lit up the room, Sirius flinched, and he jumped when the thunderclap followed. James squeezed him tighter, and he managed to relax. 'It's okay. I've got you,' James said, and Sirius closed his eyes, feeling safer than he ever had in his life. When he woke at six, the thunderstorm had ceased but the rain was still pelting down in sheets, and he wondered if the Quidditch match would be cancelled. Sirius untangled himself from James--who was wrapped around him like an extra blanket--and showered, before returning to his own bed for his early morning journaling session. About half an hour later, he heard Remus moving around, but he still hadn't emerged after ten minutes and Sirius got curious. He tiptoed over to his bed and peeked around the edge of the curtains. Remus was sat up with his legs crossed and his eyes closed. Despite being sat up, he appeared deeply asleep. Is that what meditating looked like? He remembered Remus' promise a few weeks previous to teach him and eyed the rain out of the window again. If the match wasn't cancelled, today would be the perfect day for it. James and Peter would be gone for a while, and he was fairly certain Remus wouldn't want to attend. As it happened, the match wasn't cancelled, and Remus was enthusiastic about teaching him. So, after breakfast, they bid goodbye to James and Peter and laughed as they watched them dash out into the pouring rain, becoming instantly soaked, before they returned to the dorm. Remus used the charm they'd used in the Great Hall to create tinkling background music and then told him to sit down on the floor with his legs crossed and close his eyes. 'Are you comfortable?' Remus asked. Sirius shifted about a bit until he was. 'Yes.' 'You need to quiet your mind, let all your thoughts go until you have a blank space.' Sirius cracked an eye open to look at Remus. 'Is that even possible?' Remus opened his own eyes and frowned at him. 'If it wasn't possible, I wouldn't ask you to do it, would I? Close your eyes.' Sirius smirked. 'Sorry, sir,' he said and closed his eyes again. 'Focus on the music, and the sound of the rain. And your own breathing,' Remus said. Sirius did so, listening to the patter of the rain hitting the window and the melody of the music. He focused on his breathing, keeping it calm and even. Remus spoke quietly. 'Now think of a place where you feel safe and build it in your mind. Piece by piece.' Sirius instantly thought of Hogwarts. The dorm room he shared with his friends, the common room and its roaring fire. The Great Hall and the Black Lake. He built each part of the castle meticulously in his mind, including all the secret passages, alcoves and rooms they had found. He took extra care with the dorm room, making sure everything was exactly right. 'What now?' he asked into the quiet of the room. 'Have you finished?' Remus asked. 'Yes.' 'Okay, now. This part can be painful. I want you to think of a bad memory. It doesn't have to be your worst, just bad. And I want you to find an appropriate room to store it in. Put it inside and lock the door.' It wasn't difficult for Sirius to come up with a bad memory. He had so many to choose from. Deciding on one of the many times he was locked in the cellar at home without food, he asked, 'How do I put it in?' 'Imagine yourself there in your safe place, and imagine the memory has a physical form. Pick it up and place it inside.' Sirius pictured himself inside his mental Hogwarts, and he appeared there. Tall, long black hair, aristocratic features, every part of him exactly as he was in reality. The sensation was strange. He could still feel his physical body, sitting cross-legged on the floor, but he could feel his mental body too, trailing his fingers across the stone wall. 'I'm here, I can feel the walls and the floor. It's weird,' Sirius said. 'Yes, it can be strange at first. You'll get used to it,' Remus said, his voice quiet and soothing. 'Can I make the memory look like anything?' Sirius asked. 'Yes, anything that makes sense to you.' Sirius thought about it. The memory was desolate, and painful with the gnawing hunger. Lonely. Cold and damp. He pictured one of the bricks that made up the walls of the cellar. Grey stone with damp trails caused by the moisture in the room it was from. It appeared on the floor in front of his mental body, and he picked it up. He was instantly drawn into the memory. Feeling everything. He gasped. Remus' voice echoed from the cellar walls. 'Sirius? It's okay, fight through it. Put it inside the room.' Right. He wasn't locked in the cellar. It was just a memory. He was in his dorm with Remus. Safe. He clawed his way out and back to his safe place. Back to Hogwarts. He was standing outside the blank stretch of wall that hid the Slytherin common room. What better place to put all his unpleasant memories? He didn't need a password here. It all belonged to him, and the wall opened at his mental command. He walked inside. Looking around, he wondered where to store the memory. Somewhere it wouldn't look too out of place. He glanced at the fireplace. Well, he was in control here; he thought. Concentrating, he vanished one of the bricks surrounding the fireplace and pushed the memory stone into the space left behind before stepping back to inspect the result. It looked good. There was a faint difference in the colour of the stone, but it was only noticeable if you were looking for it. He wasn't sure why he wanted to hide his memories, disguise them, but it felt like the thing to do. Reaching out, he brushed his fingers against the cellar stone and was pulled back into the memory briefly. As soon as his fingers left contact, the memory stopped. He had complete control over it. 'I'm finished,' he said. 'Okay. I think we'll stop here for today. Exit your safe place and lock the doors behind you. Then focus on your physical body and come back to it.' Sirius followed Remus' instructions and strolled out to the Hogwarts grounds, locking the front doors behind him before realising the grounds were a part of his safe place. He needed to leave Hogwarts entirely. He finally reached the gates and locked them, before focusing on his physical body. The feel of the carpet beneath him, the solidness of the ground. The sound of the music and the rain in his ears. He opened his eyes and Remus was smiling at him. 'You did really well.' 'Did I? I only dealt with one memory.' 'That's more than I managed my first time,' Remus said with a shrug. 'Can't I do a few more?' 'It's been three hours, and I heard a particularly loud cheer a few minutes ago. I think James and Peter will be back soon.' Sirius was shocked. 'Three hours?' Remus nodded. 'Didn't feel like that long for you, right?' 'Nothing like it,' Sirius said, shaking his head. 'That's something you need to be careful of. Time can pass quickly when you're meditating.' 'I see that,' Sirius said. 'You said this was a muggle thing, though. That didn't feel very muggle.' 'Yeah,' Remus said, frowning. 'I thought the same. I learnt about it from a muggle book, but I think it might work differently for wizards.' Sirius nodded. 'Probably.' James and Peter returned a few minutes later. Hufflepuff had beaten Ravenclaw by 200 points, meaning Gryffindor would need to beat Hufflepuff by at least 150 to stay in the running. James was adamant the team could do it, and Sirius believed him. If there was one thing James knew about, it was Quidditch. Three days later, on Tuesday afternoon, James called a Marauders meeting, and they all gathered in the dorm room. 'I've called you all here today to discuss our plans for the Christmas feast,' James said, standing on his bed. 'The school will be expecting something spectacular from the Marauders, and we can't disappoint them. So, ideas?' 'Aren't you the Chief Imaginator? Sirius asked. 'Ideas are supposed to be your job.' James jumped down from the bed. 'I'm glad you said that,' he said, putting his arm around Sirius' shoulders. 'I think we should turn the feast into a party. Music, a dance floor, the works.' 'I like it,' Remus said, nodding. 'We should wait until the feast is over though.' 'See, that's what I thought too,' James said. 'But how can we time that? We don't know what time it will end.' 'Some kind of trigger word, maybe?' Remus said, frowning. 'I'll look into it.' 'Brilliant.' James turned to Sirius. 'I need you to design some ice sculptures.' Sirius grinned, his mind immediately brimming with ideas. 'I can do that.' 'Nothing rude, Sirius,' Remus said. Sirius scowled. That was three-quarters of his ideas out right away. 'Spoilsport.' 'What about me?' Peter asked. 'There's nothing for you to do yet, mate. But it's early days. I'm sure something will come up that needs your expertise.' Peter nodded in understanding. 'What are you doing for Christmas, Remus?' Sirius asked. 'Going home?' 'I was thinking about staying here, actually. I'd like to have access to the library for my homework. But I don't know if my mum will mind. I was planning on writing to her soon.' Sirius felt a thrill of hope. If Remus stayed, maybe he could bring up the werewolf thing somehow. James and Peter were both going home, so it would just be the two of them. It might be the perfect time.

-o-o-o-o-

Extract from The Official Marauders' Notebook

Notes passed between James, Sirius and Peter. Later removed and burned.

Monday, 8th of November Have you noticed Remus has been really quiet since the Quidditch match? I think he's really freaked out about what happened - Sirius I was thinking the same thing. We need to do something to help - James Like what? - Sirius I'm not sure. It seemed like he was most worried about his skin being touched, right? - James Yeah. That's what he asked me - Sirius So... Gloves? - James He doesn't like attention, though. If he's wearing gloves all the time, people will stare - Sirius I'll ask my dad. He might know something that could help - James Wednesday, 9th of November My dad wrote back this morning. He says there are gloves made from kelpie skin; they change to look like your hands, and they're 15 galleons. There's also a matching hood for another 20. I can cover 25 galleons. Can you and Pete make up the rest? - James I have eight galleons left of my allowance this month - Sirius I have two galleons, but that's all my money - Peter So? - Sirius So nothing. If it will help Remus, then he can have it, I was just saying. I'll have nothing left for sweets - Peter I'll buy you sweets, Pete. I'll get more money next week - James Thanks, James - Peter Thursday, 11th of November I sent Dad the money. He's going to buy them straight away. We should have them by Saturday morning - James Thank Merlin. Remus looks miserable - Sirius.

-o-o-o-o-

A/N Hi, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I just wanted to make clear that I do not advocate locking bad memories away inside your head, that is not a healthy way to deal with trauma and Sirius will be revisiting those memories to deal with them properly at a later date, this is just the first step.

Also, my beta has gone back to work now, so updates will probably slow down a bit :(

Chapter 23

#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #remus x sirius

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