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theunquenchablethirst · 3 years

Text

Hooked (Jerome X Reader)

Ok, so this is a thing. I was kinda surprised nobody had used this scene yet, because the Gotham fandom seem to collectively agree that Jerome is BIG KINKY and yet the one scene where he canonically has people cuffed up and hung from the ceiling... nobody has touched??? Y'all have been sleeping on that scene! It's fanfic gold! Anyway, enjoy the hedonism. Much love xxx

Warning: SMUT, 18+, GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, BDSM, bondage, cuffs, dom/sub, vaginal fingering, oral sex, biting, spanking, slapping, pussy slapping, light choking, spitting, belt whipping, praise/degradation, marking, mention of scratching, Jerome is big meanie pants mean man

The new mayor of Gotham is having a meeting with his council members, but things take a turn when the Legion of Horribles show up to kidnap them and reader. When the victims are being unloaded from the truck, Jerome Valeska notices reader, because she isn't exactly on the guest list.

Tag list of lovelies: @gabile18 @valeskaduh @fangirl--writes @persephoneblck

Masterlist

I had been working as a housekeeper for the new mayor. It was a good job, but I wasn't appreciated. I was just there to clean and serve when needed. I don't think he even knew my name. I was just hired help to him. To all of them.

He was hosting a dinner for his council that day. I had been placed in the corner of the room with a bottle of expensive wine where I was to wait until wanted. He gestured for me to come forwards and fill their glasses while they started talking about their displeasure with the rising foul play in the city, like it was anything new for Gotham. The chairwoman wanted to know what he was going to do about it. Very little in my opinion. He was just coasting. In too deep over his head. He had been appointed far too fast and everyone knew it. He wasn't going to last.

He made an attempt to save face and talk about how he too was disturbed by the recent goings on and was doing everything he could. Trash, utter trash. As he rose from his seat, the lights fizzled out. I stopped pouring. Had this been any other city I would have assumed it was a simple power outage, but nothing was that simple in Gotham. The security guard closed us in and went to see what was happening. The air turned icy. No, this was not good. Gunshots and screams came from the hallway and everyone rose from the table terrified. We quickly started walking towards a door hoping to make an escape, but there was something about the windows. They were freezing over.

The doors burst open and I dropped the wine. It smashed into pieces as a blueish man in some kind of robotic suit and a weird looking, but huge gun stepped into the room. Was that Victor Fries? Then through the second set of doors another man in a top hat who I recognised as Jervis Tetch burst in with some other strange looking friends.

Before I could comprehend the situation, we were all being cuffed and taken outside. Our kidnappers pushed and pulled us towards a huge truck, all the while the mayor tried to buy his way free. He was showing just how little he really knew about the underbelly of Gotham. I knew just by looking at them that they were probably Arkham escapees and couldn't be bought like a sane man could. They had their own plans and you can't bargain with crazies.

We got to the truck and they opened the back door. My blood ran cold when I saw that standing there waiting for us was Jerome Valeska. Of all the criminals Gotham had seen he had been the only one that had scared me, truly and thoroughly. He didn't have any kind of reason for what he did. He just enjoyed death and chaos. And after his last escapade he looked like madness personified, his scars circling his face and eyes and giving him a permanent evil smile. Dread consumed me as I realized that he was no doubt the leader of this operation and if that was true, we were already dead.

I felt myself jolted forwards. The mayor had pushed me in front of the rest of the council to get whatever was coming first. If I wasn't cuffed, I would have turned around and broke his nose. I was lifted into the truck, my hands were pulled above my head and fixed to two hooks. I had to stand on my toes to keep standing which made it awkward and difficult as they pushed me to the back of the truck.

Was that Penguin? What was he doing here? He didn't belong here. I had gone to Penguin looking for a job in his club when I was 16. He was impressed with my audition, but when he asked my age, he rejected me.

"This establishment is not a playground for children. It's a nightclub." He had told me. At the time I had been steaming mad, but in hindsight he was probably right. Even if he was rude. So, after that, I found it hard to understand why he was here and working with Valeska. Maybe he had been kidnapped too?

The rest of the council were loaded on and hooked. The mayor was still trying to offer them money and pardons. When he saw it wasn't working, he resorted to empty, unintimidating threats. Jerome was completely unfazed and even a little disappointed in the lack of smiles.

"Nobody knows how to have fun anymore, right?" He said putting his arm around Penguin. So, he was a part of this.

Jerome pointed to a scary looking figure dressed like a scarecrow. Johnathan Crane? Crane released some kind of purple gas in the face of a member of a council. She started laughing and convulsing violently.

"What have you got to lose? Except your sanity?" Jerome joined in the crazy laughter. So, this was his plan. He'd figured out a way to forcefully drive everyone insane. With a gas.

I silently prayed to God in my mind for any kind of help.

After sufficiently terrifying us half to death, they left us in the back of truck. None of us could say anything and after a few minutes the truck started moving.

"Is she ok?" I asked looking towards the victim of the insanity gas.

"Who cares?! We have to figure out what they want and get out of here." Replied the mayor.

"Maybe they want publicity for whatever that gas is. Offer them some TV time." Guessed the chairwoman.

"Don't you get it?! This isn't a situation you can buy your way out of!" I snapped, frustrated with their idiocy.

"These aren't normal criminals. They don't want your money. They want chaos and madness." They stood there silently stunned. They had never heard me speak with such confidence, but in that moment, they knew I was right.

After what felt like hours the truck finally stopped.

"What's going on?" The mayor whispered.

Everything was quiet. We listened for any noise or sign of life. All we could hear was our own breath.

Then suddenly the doors flung open once again and in hopped Valeska, Tetch and Crane.

"We're here!" Jerome grinned.

The other two started to pull the council one by one off the hooks and walk them out of the truck, closely watched by Jerome. Until they got to me.

"Wait..." He stuck an arm out to stop Tetch from unhooking me.

"Who's she? She wasn't on the party list." He took a few steps closer to me.

"This poor young girl is an unlucky maid. Wrong place, wrong time. Very bad day." Jervis explained looking at me.

"Would you like me to... dispose of her?" Asked Crane, stalking close to me and lifting needle covered fingers to my throat.

"Not so fast, Mr Potato Head." Jerome said pulling him away from me.

He came so close that we were only inches apart. He looked down at me as if he was thinking for a few seconds then smirked and turned around to the others.

"Guys, go and see that our guests are comfortable, will ya? Get everything ready." He ushered them out of the truck. Fear travelled up and down my body. This had all been a bad situation, but being alone with Valeska scared the hell out of me.

"You're lucky I have a soft spot for pretty little girls." He closed the truck doors and turned to look at me.

"Freddy Krueger there... not so much." He relaxed, leaning back against the doors with his hands in his pockets. "You got a name?"

I stayed silent, more out of fear than defiance. He sucked his teeth and stood up straight.

"I get it. You're scared. Who wouldn't be, right?" He started slowly walking closer. "But things will go a lot smoother if you just play nice."

I still couldn't find any words.

"Aw, come on, doll! I'm getting awful lonely over here." He brought his hands up out of his pockets and leaned against a wall of the truck.

He was quiet for a few seconds and I noticed that his eyes were making their way up my legs. Being held up by my wrists on my tip toes had pulled my uniform skirt up and almost all of my thighs were exposed. I blurted out my name in an attempt to distract him from my bare legs. He smiled.

"What a pretty name. Now, was that so hard?" He pushed himself off the wall and came a little closer.

"So, you're the mayor's dust bunny, huh? I gotta say, doll, I can see why he keeps you around." He chuckled, eyeing me.

My whole body flushed and my face turned hot and red.

“But, uh, the thing about mayors in this town, they don’t last very long.”

"Please let me go." I whimpered.

"Oh, but we're having such a good time! Plus, if I did that, you'd scamper off to the GCPD and I can't have good ol' Gordon crashing the party early."

I scoffed at his suggestion. Not likely. I had a distinct distaste for the GCPD. They hadn't helped me when I needed them. I would never need them again.

"What's the matter? He book ya before or something?" Jerome smiled with intrigue.

"My parents... they... did things to us. When I ended up in the hospital one too many times..." Tears stung my eyes as I remembered. "They left me there and disappeared with my little brother. No one ever managed to track them down."

I didn’t fully understand why I was opening up to Jerome, but for a second, I saw a spark of humanity in his eyes. Like he understood my pain. I'd heard his first kill had been his mother, so maybe he did?

"I'd give anything to see him again." I sniffed and a tear rolled down my cheek.

"Yeah, I had shitty parents too." He sighed. "I killed them both."

I had thought about what I would do if I ever saw my parents again. What I would say, what I would ask. I could never think of the right words. But the thought of killing them, well that made me smile.

"What was it like?" I asked.

Jerome grinned from ear to ear and stepped closer so that we were toe to toe.

“Have you ever stood at the edge of a really tall building? You know that little voice in the back of your head that says ‘Jump! You can fly!’ even though every other part of you is screaming ‘No you can’t! You’re gonna kill us!’”

I nodded shakily.

“It’s like finally giving in to that voice. Like jumping off Gotham Bridge and finding out you can fly. And realising you never have to walk again.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and my heart felt like it was going a million beats per minute. His eyes were locked on mine and it felt like he was looking straight into my soul.

“You wanna fly, doll?” He brought his hand up to cup my jaw and ran his thumb along my bottom lip.

It wasn’t humanity I saw in Jerome Valeskas eyes. It was freedom. A freedom that I had wanted for as long as I could remember. And I could have it right now. He was offering it to me. The only thing standing in my way was myself.

“Yes.” I breathed. “Yes, I do.”

The next thing I knew, his lips were crashing into mine and he had hooked his hands under my thighs and was holding them around his waist. His kiss was desperate and hungry, like he had been starved for days and his grip on the bare flesh of my thighs was rough enough to leave bruises. I locked my ankles together behind him to steady myself from swaying underneath the cuffs. When I did, he drove his crotch forwards, grinding into my centre, a quiet moan escaping me as I felt him.

He slowly trailed a hand from my thigh, up my back and to the nape of my neck, before balling my hair in his fist. I gasped as I felt the sudden, sharp tug of him pulling my head back.

His eyes wandered down to settle on my exposed throat, before yanking my head to the side and nestling in the crook of my neck. He must’ve left a hundred open mouth kisses, but as he started to suck, I felt his teeth sink into my skin. I pulled back with a hiss at the sting, but he wouldn’t let go. He just kept on leaving harsh, red bitemarks and pulling my hair, all the time grinding harder into me.

He licked over the bruises he’d left and gently kissed them, before trailing his tongue up my neck to nip at my ear. He smiled darkly and pulled back away from me, dropping my legs back to the floor. He stalked around me, eyeing me up and down like a predator. I felt him behind me, his hands softly holding onto my waist, pulling me close to his chest.

“You know what’s great about this?” He cooed. “You’re already pre-cuffed.”

I flushed and my core swelled hot, his breath so close to me made my skin tingle all over. He pulled at the top of my skirt and dragged it down my hips, letting it fall down around my feet. He caressed my thighs and then stepped back, tugging at my underwear, playfully letting the elastic snap back to me.

“Y’know...” He said, before the familiar sound of a belt unbuckling. “Marquis de Sade said ‘sex without pain is like food without taste’...”

My eyes widened at his words and my heartbeat quickened.

“So, let’s make this... delicious.”

A million thoughts raced through my mind, but before I could process any, I felt the sharp snap of leather against my ass. I jolted forwards and let out a high pitch yelp.

Even though I couldn’t see him, I could tell he was smirking. I could hear it in his voice. I bit my lip in an attempt to brace myself and he landed the belt across me again.

“Please, Jerome...” I whimpered at the sting, closing my eyes.

He brought it down again, making me arch my back in a gasp. A couple of tears rolled down my cheeks and I realised there was little point in resisting the torment. So, I gritted my teeth and prepared for another lick of the belt.

He whipped me once more, harder this time and a small scream escaped me.

“Please!” I begged.

I heard him chuckle with dark delight. The bastard was enjoying this. Of course he was. What else had I expected from someone like him? I tightened all my muscles for the next sting...

But it didn’t come. Instead, I felt him pulling my underwear down. Relief washed over me when I heard the belt drop to the floor and I realised Jerome was finished and was now crouched, ready to inspect his work. He ran his fingers over my burning flesh, taking in the bright red lashes he had left on me.

“What a pretty picture?” He said, landing a spank. “I wish you could see too doll, but having you cuffed is half the fun.”

His voice was dripping with venom and arousal and I could practically feel his grin in the air. He traced the marks with his fingers a little longer, before grabbing my flesh in fistfuls and sinking his teeth in. I gasped loudly at the hard bite. I wasn’t sure how many more of Jerome's surprises I could take. He laughed and ran his tongue over the new bruise.

“Yep. Definitely a pretty picture.” He smiled, giving me another spank. “I like those little noises you make, doll. Why don’t you make some more for me?”

He snaked his hand up my inner thigh and began stroking along my slit, relighting the fire in my stomach. I moaned, biting hard on my lip and tried to bring my thighs together, wanting friction.

“Naughty.” He said, landing a swift slap on my entrance causing me to let out a little yelp. “I need you to keep those legs open for me.”

It wasn’t as bad as the belt. In fact, it felt quite good. The heat inside me swelled as Jerome returned to running his fingers back and forth in my slickness. I hummed softly in my throat, fighting the urge to close my thighs again, my knees starting to shudder underneath me.

“Look how wet you are and I’m barely touching you.” Jerome chuckled darkly. “I wonder what happens if I do this?”

Jerome plunged two fingers deep inside me and slowly started pumping them. I let the warmth roll through me, moaning blissfully. He gently started to pick up speed, making it nearly impossible for me to keep my thighs apart. The faster he got, the deeper he dove, making me tighten around his talented fingers and struggle to keep steady on my toes.

My legs were shaking and despite my best efforts I just had to squeeze them together. As soon as I did, Jerome removed his fingers from me, leaving me feeling empty and spanked me hard.

“What did I say about that?” He barked, laying down another spank.

His spanking felt different this time. It felt pleasurable and sent a thrill up my spine.

“Sorry.” I whimpered.

“Sorry for what?” He spanked me again. “For being a needy little whore? Hm?” Another spank.

“Yes!” I gasped. “I’m a needy little whore! I just...”

“What? You just what?”

Jerome landed another slap at my core. It made my muscles clench, but it also aroused me so much more in a way I’d never thought I’d experience.

“What? What do you want, whore?”

“Please...”

“Big words, princess. What...” Spank. “Do you...” Another spank. “Want?”

“I want... I want you...” I forced, breathlessly.

“You want me? What do you want me to do, princess?” Jerome teased, tracing a finger along my burning entrance, just barely touching me.

“Please... Make me feel good, Jerome... Make me cum.”

“Are you gonna be a good girl?”

“Yes...”

“Are you gonna do as I say?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Exactly as I say?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Just please...Jerome.”

I couldn’t take it any longer. I felt so pathetic and needy. I needed him to touch me.

“So desperate.” He giggled sadistically. I supposed he loved seeing me beg.

Then, finally, he spread me open and dove his tongue deep into my wanting warmth. I closed my eyes and bit down hard on my lip as he swirled his tongue around inside me. I wanted to grab his hair and feel it in my fingers, but all I could do was squeeze my fists together in empty frustration.

Jerome grabbed a hand full of my ass, gripping it tightly, digging his nails in and rose his other hand to my pelvis front, pulling me down further onto his tongue. I squealed, a delightful mixture of pleasure and also pain from the tugging on my aching forearms. He ran his front hand down to play with my swollen clit, circling his fingers around beautifully.

He grinded his face deeply into me, sliding his tongue up, down, around and around inside me. He pressed his fingers down harder on my clit, forcing a loud moan out of me. I felt the pressure inside me build, coiling and tightening like a burning spring. I squeezed my thighs around his head in a desperate attempt to pull him deeper, his tongue nestling inside finding all of my sweet spots and lighting them on fire.

I could feel myself ready, ready to burst. He was pulling an amazing orgasm out of me and I wanted nothing more than to just let it go. All it took was one more upward jolt of his head, pushing his tongue that last little bit deep enough to push me over. I screamed out in erotic pleasure, letting the feeling flood me like warm water. My back arched and my legs convulsed until I withered, letting myself dangle from my cuffs in a breathless defeat.

Jerome slid his tongue out of me and pulled his face back away.

“You sing so pretty, dollface. Like a little birdie.” He said, squeezing the flesh off my ass.

He gave me one more light bite and a spank, before he rose back up to stand, snaking his hands along my sides all the way. He let his hands wander up to cup my breasts, massaging them softly. He leaned in close and began leaving wet kisses in the crook of my neck. I shuddered, his touch sending a cool tingle down my spine. He let his hands squeeze my breasts slightly harder, then pulled away and crept back around in front of me.

He stood facing me, his eyes locked on mine. They seemed to burn holes right into my flesh, creating a sense of fear in me. I was scared of Jerome Valeska, I truly was. But everything he was doing to me right now... The way he touched me, kissed me. I wondered how he managed it. How he was able to both terrify and arouse me in equal amounts.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t register his hand rising until it was firmly wrapped around my throat. He leaned down to kiss me, dominating my mouth with his tongue, making me taste myself. Once again, I felt the familiar warmth build in my core as I sensed we were not quite done here. He finished the kiss with a little nip to my bottom lip.

“Are you scared of me, doll?” He purred.

I swallowed hard, unsure if truth was wise here. Then I felt him increase the pressure around my throat, not wanting to wait for an answer.

“Yes.” I breathed.

“Good.” He said through an evil smirk.

He crashed his lips to mine once again, his free hand picking up my thigh to wrap around him. I locked both my legs around his waist, wanting to feel him close against me. I felt his erection hard, under his clothes, grinding into me and I wanted it. Badly. He pulled away from the kiss, leaving his taste on my tongue and raised his hand from my throat to grab hold of my face. He took his other hand away from my thigh and pulled at his tie. I didn’t drop my legs this time, instead I gripped tighter as he slid his tie from around his neck and scrunched it in his fist.

“Open your mouth.” He ordered.

I did as he said and he smiled, before spitting into my open lips and gagging me with his tie. I’d never had anyone do that before and it shocked me a little, but then again, I’d never had anyone like Jerome Valeska before.

He backed up slightly, just enough for him to reach down and unzip his trousers and pull down his underwear, freeing his erection. I couldn’t help but look down at it. It was bigger than any I’d taken before and I wasn’t sure how prepared I was. He started to slowly stroke himself, lifting up my chin to look at me.

He gently stroked a single finger across my jaw and then, suddenly, landed a harsh slap across my cheek. I yelped at the slap, causing a dangerous smile to form on Jeromes mouth. I should’ve been repulsed by him. He killed people and was aroused by my pain and fear, so why was I so attracted to him?

He angled himself underneath me so he was lined up and ready. He wrapped his hand back around my throat and then pushed forwards into me, causing us both to let out deep moans.

“You like that?”

I nodded and whimpered through the material of the tie. Jerome giggled darkly and with his free hand, gripped onto my waist.

“Brace yourself, princess.” He warned, through a poisonous smile.

He pulled back slowly, until he was almost completely out of me and then, like a bullet, ploughed himself right back in, jolting me backwards with force. He continued his thrusting rough and fast, making me whimper and bite down hard on the tie. I closed my legs tightly around him, pulling him closer and forcing him in deeper.

He let out a low, guttural groan and moved his hand upwards from my waist to slap me again, spitting at my face as he did so. I closed my eyes to endure the onslaught of him pounding inside me like a raging animal. I felt like a toy, dangling there for him to use as he liked, but still the searing pleasure of it all made me moan lustfully.

“Open those peepers, princess.” He commanded. “I want you to see exactly who’s in charge here.”

I opened my eyes and saw him grinning at me like a man possessed.

“You like this? You like me fucking you?” He growled, gripping my throat tighter.

All I could do was whimper and moan in response.

“I cuffed you and hung you up, hurt you, spat on you... even made you cry! And you still let me fuck you?” He laughed through shallow breaths. “You’re pathetic, you know that? A pathetic little whore.”

Jerome threw another slap at me and I felt myself tighten around his considerable length, taking him all deep inside me. He drove up into me like he was trying to break me open with his girth and I welcomed every inch of it.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He moaned.

I clenched my walls around him, the feeling of being filled by him sending flutters through me as he pushed in deeper and laughed.

“I don’t think your pussy ever wants to let me go, doll!” He grinned. “But I already know you like taking my cock like this, cause you’re such a good girl for me... I like that.”

I flushed at his words. I didn’t know why, but it made me feel good to please him and, in that moment, I would have done anything for him. I could feel my ecstasy creeping up on me, like magma rising inside a volcano. I cried out wantonly, the heat rising as he worked me, exploring every detail of my canal with his thick shaft.

He let go of my throat and moved both his hands to grab onto my ass and squeezed, steadying me so he could pound me harder and climb to release. His thrusts became erratic and sloppy and I could tell he was just as close as I was. I moaned loudly as he rammed into me harder and faster, burying himself deeper and making my arousal burn.

I could feel it coming, so close. I was about to boil over and all I needed was him. Just him. He continued thrusting like a raging animal, digging his nails into my flesh and scraping them along my ass, stinging sweetly. I whimpered at the sensation and tightened my legs.

“Cum for me, doll.” He panted. “I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

He plunged into me, pushing the magma higher and just so close to bursting. It was coming. I could feel it.

He pounded again. So close. Again and again, so hard inside me. Just a little more...

I screamed out, closing my eyes and letting everything go. The feeling of my orgasm washed over me like a tidal wave of pure elation. My whole body shook from the force of it and I trembled like a leaf. Jerome continued to thrust into me until he too reached his climax. He growled like a beast and I felt him throb, releasing his hot load of sticky lust deep inside me.

We both relaxed, catching our breath and he stared down into my eyes. He unlatched his hands from the flesh of my ass and brought one round to gently stroke my cheek with his fingertips. It was quiet, but only for a minute.

He threw his head back and laughed like the madman he was, before pulling out of me and stepping back. My legs dropped to the floor and he began to put himself away and zip his trousers back up.

“Well, that was fantastic, dollface. Thanks for playing nice with me.” He said, throwing me a wink.

There was a loud metallic knock at the truck doors and I guessed whoever it was, was trying to get Jeromes attention.

“It’s been fun princess, really. But time waits for no man and I’ve got a party to attend” He said, smiling at me. “Well, more like crash.”

When he turned to leave, I tried to speak, but all that came out was intelligible muttering. He wasn’t going to leave me here, dangling, half naked and gagged like this? Was he? He began walking to the truck doors and I tried to call out.

“Oh! Wait, almost forgot.”

I felt a flood of relief when he began walking back to me.

“I’m gonna need this back.” He said and pulled the tie out of my mouth.

I was glad to finally be rid of it, but my joy was short lived, because he was starting to leave again.

“Hey...” I croaked; my mouth dry.

“Yeah, I’ll have someone come get you later.” He said, too nonchalantly for my liking. “For now, you can just... well, why don’t you just hang out?”

He laughed at his joke and opened the doors.

“Hey! You can’t leave me here!” I tried to shout, but my throat was too dry.

And then... he was gone. He really did just leave me alone, half naked in the back of a truck. How long would it be before someone found me? An hour? Two? The rest of the day?

All alone with my thoughts now, I decided the only thing to do now was wait. Wait and try and go over what the hell just happened between me and Jerome Valeska.

#gotham #jerome valeska #jerome x reader #fanfic #smut

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quindolyn · 3 years

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hi can i request the maurauders going to see the reader do a musical like heathers or mean girls and they are just confused and turned on bc they didn't expect it to be this dirty (can lead to smut or not). luv you and hope you are taking care of yourself, if not go get something to eat, drink some water, take a nap, or do somthing you enjoy. or dont not trying to be pushy :)

Creature of the Night || Poly!Marauders

Word Count: 3029 (excluding song lyrics)

A/N: I think I liked how this turned out? I didn’t make it smut but it’s certainly suggestive, I went with Rocky Horror, I know that the musicals mentioned in the request are more modern but I fucking love Rocky Horror and I think it works with the request. When I first read this request I smiled so much because I love live theater, I don’t perform as much as I used to because as I progress with my education I’m focusing more on the stuff I can use to pad my resumes for college and stuff but I still love going to see productions. One of the worst parts of the pandemic for me has been not being able to go see shows, I miss it so much.

Warnings: theatre enthusiast reader, erections, suggestive material, song lyrics, slight teasing, wearing very little clothing in front of an audience, I believe that that is it

Masterlist

500 follower celebration

antici-

The magic of the stage was second to none. Sure, Hogwarts may have had witches and wizards, subjects like Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts, and ghosts that spent their time meandering about the halls but there was always a part of you that looked forward to the summer between your years at Hogwarts. Because no matter how magical Hogwarts was, the theater always made you feel completely and utterly alive.

Every summer since the one after your first year at what all of your muggle friends thought to be a very prestigious boarding school up in Scotland, you’d taken part in your local youth theater’s productions. Your parents both being muggles thought that it would be a great way for you to be able to stay in touch with your muggle origins.

The first year you’d been far too nervous to actually audition for a role, the very thought causing bile to churn in your stomach and threaten to make you sick all over your kitchen floor when your father first pitched the idea. So instead you’d done costumes and it was the most wonderful experience of your life.

Who needed drugs when you had live theater? The hustle and bustle behind the scenes was electrifying but after two summers of costuming, of quick changes in the wings, learning how to use the ancient sewing machines they stored in the depths of the storage rooms, and pulling pieces for the actors to try on you decided that you wanted to try something more.

The moment you had stepped onto the stage it was like you’d come to life and you cursed yourself for not taking the risk earlier. You belonged on the stage, with the harsh stage lights on you and pounds of makeup plastered onto your face you could feel the magic thrumming through your veins and it was addicting.

If it was possible, you were even more excited to perform this summer, the previous school year you’d finally gotten together with your long time best friends the Marauders, turning them from friends to your boyfriends.

When your mother had sent word of the production being put on this summer you’d squealed while seated next to James and across from Remus, who had Sirius hanging off of his side. After explaining to them, mostly Sirius and James really, just what live theater was their first reaction was to ask if they could come see you perform.

“I don’t even know if I’m going to be cast,” You had explained gently, not wanting to get their hopes up in case you weren’t cast this year.

“Bull shit of course you’re going to be the cast,” Sirius had contested through a mouthful of jam and toast, waving his hand theatrically through the air, watching him that day was not the first time you’d considered how the way he acted often reminded you of an over enthusiastic theatre major.

Remus, the only one with any knowledge on muggle theatre had snorted, wrapping an arm around Sirius’ waist to pull him closer to his body, “She’s not going to be the cast Pads, she’s going to be casted,” He’d corrected gently, pressing a kiss into his long, dark tresses.

“Whatever,” The smaller boy had grumbled, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

Which brought you to where you were right now, five minutes to curtain touching up your make up in the mirror of the shared make-up room.

“Hey (L/N),” One of your cast mates called settling into the makeup chair next to you as she plucked a tube of dark red lipstick from the small canary colored makeup bag she had previously abandoned on the counter, “Your boyfriends coming tonight?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Yeah, they are,” You responded, applying mascara to your lashes.

“Excited to meet them, that photo you showed us,” She smiled, fanning her face with her hand, “Smoking,” She smiled, making eye contact with you in the mirror.

Rolling your eyes you ignored her comment, “It’s five minutes to curtain, you’re just now doing your make-up?” You chuckled, noticing her black face.

“Oh, shove it,” She laughed as you pushed yourself from your chair, traipsing out of the room, giving her the middle finger on your way out.

“Break a leg!” She called after you as the door latched shut.

You weren’t usually this nervous before a performance but knowing that your three boyfriends were sitting out there somewhere in the audience had you pacing back and forth backstage wondering what they were going to think of the whole production.

“Rocky Horror?” Sirius’ confusion evident in his voice as he plopped down in his seat next to Remus, throwing his arm around the werewolf’s shoulders, drumming his fingers on his clothed shoulder hidden behind his knitted cardigan.

“Yeah,” James collapsed into his chair on the other side of Remus, tucking one leg under his body, “No clue what it’s about but I’m sure our angel will be wonderful. Can you guys see her?” He straightened himself up in his seat, craning his neck in attempts to catch a glimpse of you.

Remus being the only one with any ties to the muggle world knew a bit about the show and had to do his very best to suppress a smirk from overtaking his face as he knew exactly what he and your other two boyfriends were getting themselves into.

“Just hush up you two, the show’s gonna start any moment,” He scolded, patting his large, scarred hand on James’ thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Rem,” Sirius whined, puckering his lips and closing his eyes, signaling to his boyfriend that he wanted a kiss.

“My needy baby,” He crooned, leaning in to connect his lips with Sirius’ in a quick liplock before pulling back, allowing Sirius to drop his forehead to smear against his shoulder.

“That’s mean,” Sirius murmured discontentedly.

“Poor baby Pads,” James cooed mockingly.

“Both of you,” Remus hissed as the lights in the theatre dimmed, “The show’s about to start, be good for me and be quiet yeah?”

Their response came in their silence as the crowd started settling down and the music from the orchestra pit began a voice coming from somewhere out of sight as it was played through the speakers,

“Michael Rennie was ill

The day the earth stood still

But he told us where we stand”

Not 20 minutes into the show all three of them were as hard as rocks, James had already made Remus check the playbill for the name of the character you were playing, not being able to remember what you’d told them as all of his concentration was focused on a certain place.

Janet Weiss.

Remus couldn’t remember either, but he was almost certain that’s the name he could make out in the dark theatre, printed next to a picture of your smiling face.

When you’d stripped down to your underwear the boys could barely focus on the plot line of the show, only being able to watch the way your bare skin shone under the harsh light of the spotlights. Watching as sweat glistened on your skin, making you shine as you moved about the stage.

Enchanted by the melodic cadence of your voice they all felt a certain jealousy burning deep in the pits on their stomachs at the thought that there were dozens of other people packed into that theater, all observing you in your vulnerable state of under dress. Only they got to see you like that.

Sirius missed much of the first act glaring at members of the audience who he deemed as looking at you for too long for his liking, but if you were being honest a 4th year smiling at you in the hallway was sometimes too long for his liking.

It wasn’t like any of them had never seen you naked before, in fact they’d all seen you naked more than their fair share of times but something about you on that stage in a white bra with a matching slip was driving them all crazy.

Especially Remus, whose ultimate weakness was seeing you in anything white which was one of the reasons you’d been so excited to invite them in the first place, knowing that they would be horny messes the entire time.

On stage you did your very best not to look out into the audience looking for them, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to stop a ginormous grin from forming on your face and you couldn’t afford to break character. Not if you wanted the night to go your way.

As the opening notes to “Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch Me”, rose from the orchestra pit you had trouble stopping a small smirk from pulling at your lips as you opened them, inhaling deeply before singing the first words of the song,

“I was feeling done in, couldn't win

I'd only ever kissed before”

Despite yourself you caught a glimpse of long dark hair in the audience, quickly taking a glance at Sirius’ face, eyes glazed over in lust, legs shifting uncomfortably with his mouth hanging wide open.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed another raven-haired boy’s mouth dropping as you shrugged off of your robe

“I thought there’s no use getting, into heavy petting

It only leads to trouble and, seat wetting

Now all I want to know, is how to go

I've tasted blood and I want more”

It was impossible to miss the way Remus’ jaw clenched as you laid your palm against Rocky’s chest, he was being played by your good friends who’d been working with the same theatre company as you since forever, he was like a brother to you. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t lay it on extra thick tonight with your boyfriends in the audience.

Tracing a dainty finger down Rocky’s chest you pushed your body against his singing out the next lyrics of the song,

“I've got an itch to scratch, I need assistance”

You turned you and your cast mate so that looking over his shoulder you were able to meet Remus’ eye, sending him a quick wink before focusing back in on Rocky.

“Toucha, toucha, toucha, touch me

I wanna be dirty

Thrill me, chill me, fulfill me

Creature of the night”

Pressing your back up against Rocky’s chest you guided his hands with yours to your breasts, squeezing them as you followed the choreography you knew by heart.

You ripped your slip from your body with the help of Rocky leaving you in only your white bra, matching panties and a pair of small heels as you paraded around stage, belting the suggestive lyrics into the theater.

“Then if anything grows, while you pose

I'll oil you up and rub you down (down, down, down)

And that’s just one small fraction, of the main attraction

You need a friendly hand, oh i need action”

You smirked, thinking about all of the action you’d be on the receiving end of later that night as you sunk to your knees in front of Rocky, your hands grasping his thighs. Deciding to tease them perhaps a little more than necessary as you went through the number, curling your leg around his and pressing your bodies together so that there was no space between your two questionably clothed bodies.

As the number was brought to a close it was impossible for you to ignore the excitement bubbling up inside of you as you continued your way through the show you kept throwing glances at your boyfriends, always finding their eyes already trained on you. More often than not, on some body part other than your face.

If your boyfriends thought that they had a bit of a problem before that song they were in a terrible predicament now.

Remus caught Sirius on multiple occasions trying to move the hand that he was holding to grope at his crotch as he tried to buck up into his boyfriend’s hand. And much to his own dismay, Remus would pull his hand away, thinking it probably wasn’t the best idea to give his boyfriend a hand job in a crowded theater. Knowing that he wouldn’t have to worry about James touching himself because he would never dream of disobeying him, Remus divided his attention between you on the stage and keeping Sirius in check.

Each of the boys were counting down the seconds until the show came to an end and they could get out of there and relieve some of their tension. As the curtains were pulled closed they all breathed a sigh of relief before they reopened, leaving all three of them bewildered and slightly annoyed, even more so when they noticed everyone around them standing as they applauded the actors.

Remus forced both of them up when you rushed to the front of the stage, curtsying as the crowd went wild, your boyfriends most notably. As you took your bow you blew a kiss to your boyfriends taking note of the uncomfortable way they all stood, trying to adjust their erections to make them less noticeable while simultaneously applauding you.

As you cleared the stage after curtain call you took your time, doddling towards the dressing rooms where you had left the clothes you’d arrived at the theater in along with a special outfit you’d brought for after the show. Usually you were one of the first actors to clear the theater after a show but tonight you took your time. Hanging up your costume with more care than anyone really should treat any garment with and certainly more than what it needed.

You smirked mischievously as you pulled the you’d brought outfit from your bag and shimmied it up your legs before slipping the delicate straps up your shoulders. You glimpsed yourself in the mirror, the red satin of the dress clinging to your curves in an attractive manner, short enough to display miles of legs and low cut enough to show off a decent amount of cleavage and perhaps a sighting of the matching red bra you were wearing beneath it.

Slinging the back of your black heels over the heel of your feet you snatched your purse from the armchair in your dressing room before striding out to go meet your boyfriends in the lobby, where you’d told them to wait for you.

Their heads all turned as they heard the clacking of your heels against the tile of the floor, “Boys,” You greeted as they unabashedly took in your new appearance.

As he most often was, Remus was the first one to collect himself, “Puppy, you were wonderful,” He praised, walking to meet you as you approached him, leaning down to smear a kiss against your cheek, “You did amazing up there, so proud of you,” He threw his arm around your waist as you walked towards Sirius and James.

“We got something for you,” He explained, his grip on your waist tightening, “Jamie give it to her, yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” The smaller boy grinned, remembering the bouquet he held cradled in his arms as he handed it over to you, “Here you go angel.”

“Thank you Jamie,” You said as you took it from him, closing your eyes as you buried your nose in the sweet smelling flora. As you opened your eyes you made eye contact with Sirius, who stood across from you, practically drooling as he took in your appearance without any shame, “They smell wonderful.”

“You okay Si?” You asked, looking up through your eyelashes, batting them innocently.

“Like you don’t know exactly what you did up there to us (Y/N/N),” Remus whispered in your ear, pressing his nose into your temple.

“You guys are the ones who wanted to come,” You lilted, rubbing one of the velvety petals between the pads of your thumb and forefinger.

“Could’ve warned us,” James mumbled, his eyes not leaving your thighs as he licked his lips, if it were anyone else you would’ve been uncomfortable but you couldn’t help but feel flattered whenever any of them ogled you.

“And what’s with the dress Pup?” Sirius nodded his head appreciatively towards your dress, obviously admiring the way it hung on your body.

“What, you don’t like it?” You asked with fake hurt in your voice, knowing that he more than liked it, he fucking loved it.

“S’not that,” Remus mumbled, nosing at your jugular, “Just that whole show, got us a little bit worked up. We didn’t expect it to be so sexual Puppy,” He nodded towards James and that’s when you noticed the erection he was still sporting.

“Got us really worked up, can we go home now?” James asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, trying to distract himself from his little problem.

“Jamie,” You whined, smiling wickedly, “I wanted to celebrate, I was thinking we could go eat somewhere, I was thinking maybe Thai food?”

You watched as Sirius ground his teeth, conflicted between needing to get home and not wanting to deny you from what you wanted.

“Having fun teasing us Bunny?” Remus asked you with a sly smirk, knowing exactly what you were doing.

“M’not teasing,” You insisted, turning indignantly to your other boyfriend.

“Sure you aren’t,” He chuckled, “Thai sounds great (Y/N), wanna talk with you about the show,” The idea of teasing Sirius and James even longer was very appealing to Remus and he was ready to make the sacrifice of being teased himself, knowing that he’d be able to get back at you later that night.

“But-” James began.

“You wanna argue with me Jamie?” Remus challenged, raising a singular eyebrow.

“No,” He moped, “Of course not.”

“Good,” Remus said, nodding his head approvingly, “We wouldn’t wanna deny our Princess would we?”

James shook his head, eyes pleading, desperately seeking Remus’ approval.

“Pads?” Remus challenged, turning his attention to the other raven haired man.

“What? Oh um, of course not,” He agreed distractedly, dragging his eyes from your form to meet Remus’, his reluctance evident in his voice.

“Good,” Remus said pointedly, his eyes cold, daring Sirius to question him. When he didn’t the werewolf continued, “Let’s get going then, there’s a nice little restaurant a couple blocks away yeah?”

As you all hummed your consent you made your way to the exit, “Ten galleons if you can make James cum in his pants at dinner,” Remus whispered in your ear quietly enough so that James and Sirius trailing behind you wouldn’t be able to hear you, you could hear the smirk in his voice as you exited the theatre.

“Deal.” This was going to be fun, you considered that you might have to invite them to come see the show again.

-pation

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @amourtentiaa @superbturtlemakerathlete

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lollypopsx · 3 years

Text

Flatmate!Harry: I'll Make It Up To You - Part 2

Please like if it’s not too shabby, reblog for anyone who may enjoy this and follow if you want to see more! Any suggestions are happily taken for future writing! I love you all! be safe and be kind x

Warnings: Hints of depression and anxiety

Part 1 - Part 3

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Days had passed since the audition, and while you were sat on your laptop every hour searching for new jobs, new projects, more auditions and pure hope of some miracle, you couldn't help but starting to feel like you were failing slightly.

You liked to write happy songs and create stories using your music, but you were finding it harder to find the inspiration. Usually you and Harry would sit and talk ideas for hours, but since he made you miss your audition, you were distant from him, it was only the last day or two that you had been getting slowly back to normal.

Every day since the incident when Harry came home after working at the studio, he would open the curtains to make sure you had fresh air and daylight after cooping yourself up on the sofa all day, in the dimly lit living room. Not only that, he would check the cupboards, fridge and the sink to check that you were eating enough. He had seen you stressed and upset before. He had been there through some difficult moments in your life, and had always been your rock throughout the years, especially when your mental health was struggling during these times. But this time was worse. He couldn't help being concerned for someone he loved and cared for.

"Hey pumpkin..." He whispers softly, settling himself down beside you after completing his daily routine "Have you done much today?" he gently combs his fingers through your hair before dropping his arm round your shoulders.

You just sigh softly, looking ahead blankly at the quiet TV, simply shaking your head. If only he could see what was going on in that pretty mind of yours then maybe he could make everything better.

"I see you used the piano and the guitar today though..." he states, although it came out more like a question.

Minutes of silence filled the room until out of the blue, some words left your lips. "...Adam came to get the ring today" you whisper, feeling the tears brim your eyes once again, for what felt like the millionth time today.

"Oh darling" He frowns, pulling you into his chest tightly, just like he did the night you found out your (now ex-) boyfriend, Adam, was cheating on you. Unfortunately, you happened to find out minutes before he proposed to you, in front of all of your friends, including Harry. You didn't know what to do, so you took the ring, said you'd think about it and you left him standing alone. This all happened months ago, and you really thought that you was totally over it.

"Everything that's happened this week...I-I just...I feel like such a failure Haz. It just feels like I...I-I'm falling...falling apart and nothings going right! Why isn’t anything going right! I can’t even write one stupid song that makes sense" you let out hard sobs as your hands fisted his clean white t-shirt.

"No...no, no, no don't say that...please don't ever say that." He frowns, pulling away from you, but still staying close. His warm hands press against your cheeks as he lifts your face gently "hey, hey look at me" he whispers, begging you to look at him.

Your sad wide eyes flickered up into his, gentle tears falling down your face. "I know...I know it's hard at the moment. But everything happens for a reason. And everything will get better...I know it will. Do you trust me?" He whispers, his eyes gazing deep into yours, almost like if he looked hard enough, he could read your mind.

You give a hesitant nod as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before wiping the tears dampening your cheeks. Being affectionate together wasn't anything unusual for the two of you, you really were the best of friends.

"I'll go make some dinner okay? Pasta sound good?" You just nod your head gently at him as he leaves your side. You let out a deep sigh and head over to the living room window, watching the sunrise beginning to set over the busy London town. "So...how's the studio going?" You ask him curiously, your gaze still at the window.

"I erm..." He clutters around in the kitchen. His job was a topic he had been avoiding for the last few days. He didn't want to rub it in that he was busy writing an album for millions of fans, who would be screaming his lyrics back to him all over the world in years to come. "It's...good. I mean, its tiring but I...yeah. It's good" He nods.

"H, you don't have to avoid it. I forgive you for what happened. I know you would never have done it out of spite...and you deserve your life style, you work hard!" You say as you head into the kitchen, re-filling the water in the vase on the table, your vibrant roses and lilies still looking as beautiful as the first day Harry bought them for you.

"You work hard too!" He frowns softly "Harry I don't think moping around on the sofa, drowning in my sorrows, is the definition of working hard" You let out a gentle chuckle.

"So...how's it really going?" You hop up onto the stool beside the kitchen counter.

"Well, we have 4 songs so far...and they are...different to the last album. I mean they reckon three of them will be on the pop charts...maybe even a number one slot there" He sighs softly.

"Oh wow, that does sound different to before...and you...don't want that?" You ask curiously, judging by the lack of excitement. "Well...it's not that. I just...it's hard to write another album when the last one did well, and you have to make sure it's better than the last one." He sighs softly as he cooks. "They want me to write some slower, more emotional songs. I just can't...well the words don't fit right. I'm just not feeling emotional about anything, so I don't know where to get the emotion from"

"Well you can't put a price on emotion Haz, you can't just go and buy it in Gucci. You have to really feel it. Even if you aren't thinking about something specific or direct to you. I used to find that sometimes when I was trying to write, I'd create these characters in my head, and I'd give them all these different stories and personalities. And I...I used that to really help me write music. It's not easy." You explain while getting two of the plates from the cupboard and pouring two drinks for the table.

"You used to? You mean you don't use that method anymore?" He asks curiously, while giving the pasta one final stir.

"I...I think I've decided that I'm not going to write music anymore" You shrug softly, your eyes unable to life to his. "I need a proper job. And things aren't going well with auditions lately and I make a total fool out of myself every time I go into a meeting. It's time I looked for a proper job. Besides, the price of bills in this house keeps going up and up."

"What?! Y/N you're so good at writing songs and music! You can't throw it all away now! That is your proper job. And I love hearing what you write, it inspires my own stuff!" He frowns, his brow furrowing, trying to understand you. "Think of all the songs no one will get to hear"

"No one hears them anyway...It's different now. The entertainment industry is changing more and more by the day. Maybe the stuff I write just isn't as trendy anymore." It was difficult for you to admit, but you knew you had to accept it.

"There's a fine line between us Styles, because the difference is, you're already there. You have the whole world in your hands Haz, you can go anywhere and do anything. You could sing a song to a fish and the whole world would be adored by you still! If I did something like that...I'd be laughed out of every interview, audition and meeting for the rest of my life. But we’ll be alright" You smile and shrug, your mood had certainly been hit and miss the last few days, but you knew you had to carry on with your life.

—————————

“Hey Y/N come here!” Harry calls from the living room. You were currently in your room, scrolling through your Instagram, while in a pasta coma after dinner. You rush over to the living room “What’s up?” You ask, seeing him sat at the gleaming white piano, which as always was sat under the window.

“What do you think?” He starts to play a few notes on the piano, looking between the scruffy paper notes cluttering the top of the piano and his hands.

“Can’t put a price on emotion...it’s something that you just can’t buy...you...you’ve got my devotion...but....but” He sighs softly, playing around with the notes and the wording on his notes.

You smile softly as you recognise his acknowledgment of your earlier conversation “...but man, I can hate you sometimes” you sing gently, testing to see how it could fit.

“Hey that’s mean! Why would you say that!” He fakes a pout up at you “I thought we- hey actually...you’re right! That really fits!” He chuckles, pulling you onto the stool beside him. “Can you try a G chord, B chord and....lets try a C...” You nod and smile as your fingers gloss over the keys effortlessly, while Harry fits the verse together and tries to find the right tempo.

“Wait...it doesn’t sound right. Maybe lets try a D instead of C?” You suggest as you re-try, playing those three chords over and over again.

“You...are...a genius!” He grins and wraps his arms around your waist. ”Keep going!” He smirks, pushing more lyrics in front of you. Sometimes having a fresh pair of eyes really helped...or perhaps he just wanted to prove that you had talent.

You peer down at the pages upon pages of words flooding your view. “...I don’t want to fight with you....and I...and I don’t like to sleep in the dark...we’ll get the drinks in...I...I can’t stop thinking of her...”

Harrys fingers join yours at the piano “We’ll be a fine line....We’ll be a fine line...”He smiles softly as he taps on a few random keys.

You pull your fingers away gently “It...your song sounds...really good H. It’s beautiful actually.”

“You mean our song...” He whispers.

“Harry no, it’s your song, all the pieces, I just put your jigsaw together” You smile. “I know how it is writing songs and the first draft is never the same as the final version. You might decide to change it all completely” You whisper.

“Not with your lyrical genius ability and words of wisdom...your name will be all over this track” You felt a shock of electricity ripple through your veins as you felt his eyes burning into yours. His lips pressed gently against your forehead, lingering against your skin longer than usual. That sort of affection was normal from your best friend...so why did it just feel like something completely different? And what did he mean about my name being all over the track?

—————————

Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores - @sad-capuccino

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #one shot #hslot #flatmate!harry #roommate!harry #fine line #lollypopsx #fanfic #imagine #request #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #Harry styles fluff

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papergirllife · 3 years

Text

First Love

Lucas Wong / Yukhei

"They say first love is a special experience that one would always hold a special place in your heart. Wong Yukhei was your first love in high school, but along the way, you had to say goodbye to him in order for him to achieve his dream of becoming a star in Korea. Yet fate and destiny plays its role in paving the two of you an intersection once more, will the two of you and up together at the very end?"

Warnings : smut, unprotected sex, mild angst, a child (pregnancy not described), tooth rotting fluff (all in that order, kinda)

A/N : this is one of my most heavily devoted works I've ever written, so please, of you're comfortable, drop a feedback to tell me if you guys like this writing style, thank you!

Lucas Wong of NCT and most importantly his own fixed unit, Wayv, the man who garners attention and love wherever he goes, that dazzling smile is sure to be captured by numerous cameras of awaiting fans.

But to you, Lucas was never Lucas, to you he was Yukhei, and more significantly, your ex from high school. Yukhei was your first love, you remember when the two of you had first met in Year 9, Yukhei was known for being a class clown and more of a klutz, girls would always have a soft spot for him even if they didn't like him in that way.

Yukhei was your desk mate for Year 10, the thing got you on your nerves about him was that he never took group assignments seriously, and was never at school on time, his uniform was wrinkly from rushing out of his house to catch the bus and always had a stationary missing, which means he had to borrow yours.

You never hated him, hate is a strong word, things were very neutral with him, most times, he unintentionally annoys you, but he'd always make up to you by bringing you a small bottle of apple juice the next day. The only time the two of you really fought was when he had not spoken up when his friends snatched your book away from yours to copy you off, brushing it off as a small matter.

You were quite an immature person back then, and no one can blame you, you were just a teenager, and being said that, you had refused to lend Yukhei a ruler when the math teacher did a pop quiz, so he had to use the dust pan as no one, other than you that is, brings an extra ruler.

It's not your fault, you thought back then, he shouldn't have depended on you to bring his share of stationaries. The next day, you walked into class to see his group of friends waiting at your desk to apologize to you, and as for Yukhei, he had yet again brought you a bottle of apple juice, with the addition of your favourite bar of Cadbury.

It was only in Year 11 when Yukhei had confessed to you, saying that all those annoying things he did to you were just to catch your attention, of all the girls he could've liked, he chose the one who was the most unattainable, go figure.

The next year, when the two of you were looking to apply to the same college, Yukhei broke the news to you that he'd be packing his bags for Korea, that the audition he had joined just for fun accepted him as a trainee in a large entertainment company in Korea that everyone in Hong Kong knows, SM.

At first you didn't approve of his decision, that his education was important as well, that he had a life here, with you. But Yukhei had given very valid reasons to you, that he wouldn't have passed the college entrance exams if it weren't for your tuitions until late at night in the public library, that he didn't really have an interest in studying. His most valid reason was that he didn't want to take a toll on you when you’re in college, he can't have you sacrifice your sleep and attention for him just to have him attain passing grades.

So you let him go, saying your last farewell to him at the airport as his girlfriend and ex girlfriend.

That was the last time you saw him, choosing to not stay in contact with him as you poured your soul into university life, studying like your life depends on it, you had a few boyfriends here and there, nothing serious, nothing that made you felt like your first love. Maybe you had trouble moving on, or maybe it was just stress, you thought back then, shrugging the thought off casually before diverting your attention else where, this cycle carried on until you came out to work.

Fast forwarding to March of 2019, you had unintentionally came across of a news online that Yukhei had finally been placed in his own fixed unit that would be promoting and performing in Chinese, which isn’t surprising, even the Thai member, Ten, was of Chinese heritage. What made your eyes widen was the fact that they were coming to Hong Kong.

At the day of the fan meet, you had took the day off from your boring low paying job at the law firm, so much for studying your ass off for bar exams, you’re just filing on a daily basis.

Before the day of the fan meet, you had lived off of instant cup noodles for a few weeks just to buy the album and their light stick. When you first listened to the album, you were proud of Yukhei’s rapping skills, you still recall the days when he’d struggle with his mandarin oral tests, the teachers there must be much better than you for him to improve so much, smiling fondly at the old memories.

You waved the light stick and sang along just like the other fans beside you, mesmerised by the performance that the boys are putting up, but your eyes were mostly on Yukhei, you would’ve never thought the once clumsy giant like him would dance as fluidly, executing the moves just as well as the other smaller sized members.

You watch as Yukhei introduces himself and his non Cantonese members in his mother tongue, a feeling of familiarity settling into your mind.

You are quite a confident person, but queuing up to the long table where Yukhei sat at the corner was nerve wrecking to you, what would he say to you? Would he recognise you? It hasn't been that long, but the two of you had done some changes to your looks.

The other members had greeted you with a friendly smile and a few casual questions like have you eaten, but they seem a bit taken aback by the lack of fan girl attitude that most of the fans in front of you had.

When you had got to Yukhei, he had dropped his marker on the floor, his head ducked out of sight to retrieve it, but when he came up to apologise, the words were stuck in his throat, as his eyes opened as wide as saucers. He coughed to mask the surprise on his face.

“Hi, how are you?” He asked as he took your album into his hands, scribbling something down.

“Good, how have you been?” although his hair is coloured, his eyes had contacts, and he wasn't in his messy uniform, the smile on his face never changed.

“Great, it's nice to see you,” to other fans and the staff beside him, they might think it's just one of the standard answers, but you knew Yukhei like the back of your hand, registering the twinkle in his eyes.

Soon, he had placed the album back into your hands, your fingers grazing gently as tiny sparks flew up your tips, eyes never breaking contact until the staff tells you to leave.

When you had sat down at a nearby cafe to get a cup of coffee, you took out your album and flipped to the page where Lucas had written something.

‘Hilton hotel, 9pm,' and his number under it.

At nine sharp, you waited by the hotel’s sitting area, not many people at that time as usually stores in Hong Kong open rather late, patiently you waited for Yukhei. Just as you were scrolling through posts on Instagram, a tall figure approached you.

A call of your name rolled off his tongue naturally, a wave of nostalgia hitting the both of you.

“I bought you a little something before I got here,” you said as you stood up, letting him guide you to the elevators.

“What is it?” Yukhei lets out a flustered laugh, scratching the back of his nape when he realised he didn't get you anything in return.

“Roast goose and Cha Siew, are they still your favourite?” you asked, hoping his taste hasn’t changed over the years.

“Yeah, man, I remember how we'd always get quarter of both after school at Uncle Chan’s,” Yukhei said, remembering how the boss of the restaurant had hung a photo of two of you on the wall, deeming the two of you his most loyal lovebirds.

“This is from Uncle Chan’s,” you told him as you followed him into his room, looking around, expecting him to be rooming with someone.

“Don't worry, I told Yang Yang to sleep with Ten for the night,” Yukhei said when he saw you looking for someone.

“Oh, that's really nice of him,” you said as you set out the food, the smell of Hong Kong's famous delicacies wafting in the air.

“Man, I really missed this,” Yukhei said as he pulls the arm chair that was a few feet away close to the desk, directing you into it and situating himself in the not so comfortable wooden chair.

“I missed this too,” you said mindlessly, eyes avoiding his before you ate a piece of meat.

“I missed you too,” Lucas confessed, yes there are many pretty girls in his industry, and Korea itself, but no one would be able to replace you, you were his rock all his life, other than his family of course, it's hard to build a connection with someone just as strong when things between the two of you never really ended, in a way.

Leaving on too good terms and without much closure for both of you kept one another thinking of each other. The two of you know, that after tonight, things would go back to normal, Yukhei would be Wayv’s Lucas, and you’d remain as his past, there would never be an outcome from whatever happens tonight.

So when the two of you were recalling memories and troubles the two of you got in school on the oh so comfortable bed, you couldn't help it, hooking a leg over Yukhei’s waist, just like how it started at the night of the graduation party, the night where the two of you lost your virginities to each other.

“I’d be gone tomorrow, we shouldn’t, I shouldn't do this to you,” Yukhei said, a firm believer that it's always the girl that is on the losing side, like he's taking an advantage of you, ever the gentleman.

“I want this for myself, Yukhei, it's not like it's our first time,” you said, trying to convince him.

“I still feel guilty about our first time, I left a few months later after that night, and tomorrow would be the same, I'll be leaving you once more,” Yukhei said as his big hands caressed your cheeks, eyes wide like a puppy, pupils reflecting an image of you, a perfect representation of his universe, you.

“I don't care, I’ve moved on from you as your girlfriend all those years ago, moving on from you after tonight won't be a challenge for me,” you said in a firm tone, one that Yukhei knows all too well, he knows you won't give up when you sound like this.

He could possibly break two hearts if he chooses to act on his impulses, but he missed this, he missed you, and so he threw all caution out of the window when he smashed his lips desperately against yours, chewing on your bottom lip with little force, it was something that would easily get you worked up back then, and to his delight, it still worked, letting him dominate the kiss easily, he let his tongue slid in your mouth, tasting the beer the two of you had just now with a mixture of strawberry lip gloss, you were still using the Nivea one you used all those years ago, this only fuelled his desire for you, his hands leaving your cheeks to locate your waist, pulling you closer to him.

When you were out of air, you broke off the kiss, reaching the hem of your shirt to pull it off, then waiting a few seconds for Yukhei to admire the red lace on your skin before unclasping your bra, letting your blossoms free, all the while as Yukhei looks on, like he was in a trance.

“I missed these,” he commented before taking a mound into his mouth, sucking on your nipple diligently while his other hand comes up to roll it in between the pads of his fingers, the pleasure from the action making you throw your head back, a slip of his name in between your whimpers.

You let Yukhei push you back, letting you fall onto his bed, you felt his hands wander up your skirt, his huge hands around your thighs, squeezing the flesh in his palms, feeling you, but stopped when he reached the hem of your panties, detaching himself from your chest, looking at you for confirmation.

You nodded at him, putting your hand over his to guide him higher, stopping at the curve of your cheek, pushing his hand beneath the clothe, dangerously close to your core, heck he could even feel your arousal already, eyes rolling back at the thought of getting you so worked up.

“Take it off, but you can leave the skirt, for old time’s sake,” you said.

Yukhei looked at you, confused at what you’re trying to say, until he realised you were wearing a pleated checkered skirt, just like the ones you wore back in high school, memories of the two of you sneaking around, having a quickie with your skirt flipped up immediately made blood rush southwards at the thought.

“Fuck, you expected this to happen?” Yukhei asked, shaking his head in disbelief, he was always the troublemaker at school, but oh how the tables have turned now.

“Didn't you?” you asked before getting up to put yourself in a doggy position, shaking your butt, taunting him.

Yukhei chuckled to himself before doing as you say, taking off your panties to reveal your slick covered pussy, dripping wet for him on display.

Yukhei spreads you open by pulling your cheeks apart to lick a stripe up your slit, making you shudder at the warm muscle that was intruding but very much welcomed.

Yukhei allowed himself to fully stuff his face there, inserting his tongue into your core, thrusting the wet muscle at a moderate pace before adding a finger to the mix, then two, stretching you open to let his tongue delve deeper inside, he then adds a third finger, the fullness finally hitting you, soon he did a come hither movement once he had located your sweet spot, his tongue and fingers rubbing against the roof of your walls deliciously, you would’ve lost your balance if it weren't for his hand supporting you by your left hip.

The constant pleasure that Yukhei so willingly inflicted upon you would've soon come to an euphoric end if he hadn’t halted all movement, pulling out his tongue and his fingers, which made you whine his name pathetically, something you wouldn't have done if it weren't for the fact that your mind was reduced to a ball full of cotton.

“Chill, I worked you up so I wouldn't hurt you with my dick,” Yukhei said as he positions himself at your entrance, his hand coming up to your face to tilt your head to his direction, zeroing on your lust filled eyes and the plump of your lips, swollen because of him.

“Are you sure you want this?” Yukhei asks you one last time.

“Yes, please,” you said, pushing yourself back to lightly grind on his length, a little bit of your arousal getting onto his cock, his dick getting so hard it's starting to hurt.

“Ever so eager, aren't you?” Lucas said before biting his lip at the sight.

“Just put it in!” you whined, tired of his teasing.

“Okay, okay,” Yukhei said before bracing himself for your tight walls, he's never nervous when it comes to others, but you? You always held a special place in his heart.

Yukhei spreads your cheeks once more before aligning himself to slip in an inch, eyebrows furrowing at how tight you were, he could tell you were clenching up, just like you did the first time when you were nervous.

So he bends down to your back, placing gentle kisses along your right shoulder blade.

“Don’t tense up, there’s nothing to be nervous about, we did this before remember?” Yukhei said in his most gentle tone ever, you nodded your head at his words, adjusting yourself to let yourself lose in the comfort of his touch, reminding yourself that although it's been a long time since you had someone as big as him, you’ll be fine in his hands.

Once Yukhei felt yourself unclench, he pushes in furthermore, you felt yourself arching your back to allow him to fit himself easier, before he comes to a halt, you felt so full, you haven't felt this way in such a long time, it was somewhat overwhelming, but it's the most complete feeling ever, a feeling you've never felt with any other.

The initial stretch was slightly painful of course, but the pain soon turned into pleasure, and being the gentleman Yukhei is, waited for you despite the huge urge to move, waiting for your green light.

When you told him he could move, he felt like the gates of heaven just opened, pulling out slightly to give you a shallow thrust, just to test the waters.

Even with that experimental thrust, you felt like you had a taste of heaven, eager to drown yourself in this new found pleasure that you were once so familiar with.

Yukhei grasped his large hands onto your hips, setting a moderate pace, still restraining himself from snapping his hips, but from how much slick you were dripping, soon you'd be begging for more.

Once you felt yourself familiarise with his big cock, the pace that Yukhei had set wasn’t enough, you wanted him to let loose, you wanted him to rail you, be damned if you can’t walk tomorrow.

So in the midst of all the pleasure, you let out two desperate words breathlessly, “ruin me”.

Yukhei had to do a double take, pausing his movements entirely just to check if that was his mind messing with him or it was really you, but one look at your desperate face, revealed to him that was in fact your words.

Yukhei allowed the animalistic side of him to take over, holding onto your hips that would sure leave bruises the next day, but you didn’t mind, not when you felt a sudden surge of pleasure coursing through your body. He angled your body higher, arching your back for easier access, thrusting harder and faster.

You could only submit yourself to him as your toes curled and your fingers dig into the linen sheets, you’re sure if his members were next door, they'd be able to hear every single sound you make, the sound of your ass cheeks clapping against Yukhei’s hips and your high pitched moans were flowing freely, but you didn't care, not when this could be the last time you'd ever be with Yukhei.

Soon, you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your legs were trying their best not to fail you, and you could tell your arms were getting sore from propping yourself up as the cord in your abdomen threatened to snap, you panted out the word ‘close’, and Yukhei immediately understood, fucking into you at an inhuman pace, you could feel yourself losing your mind as spit drips from your mouth, sanity slowly slipping away from you as you felt your impending orgasm, it started from the tip of your toes, your body convulsing as you screamed his name, succumbing into the pleasure, your core bursting, the strongest orgasm you've ever felt, making your whole body sag in defeat as you let Yukhei help you ride out your orgasm.

Just when you thought it was all over, Yukhei gently flipped you over, and that’s when you realised he hasn’t cum, so you lifted your legs higher to let him enter you once again, he was using you like his personal doll, and you love it a little bit too much to be considered normal, you struggled to keep your eyes open as you fought through the slight pain from the overstimulation, hearing Yukhei’s mumble of appreciation and endearments.

“Can you give me one more, babe? Just one more,” Yukhei said before circling his fingers around your clit, making your eyes snap open when you realise he wants you to cum once more, your hands coming up to push his hand away, but his other hand grasped onto yours.

“Just one more, please,” Yukhei begged with those puppy eyes of his, and how could you say no?

So you stopped struggling, nodding your head at his request before he quickens the pace of his hips and the ministrations on your clit.

Soon, you could feel Yukhei’s cock swelling inside you before he let out a groan of your name, thrusting in one last hard thrust before he painted your walls white, his lips capturing yours to silent you as you came once more, your nails digging into his shoulders, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt Yukhei ride out both your highs.

Once he was done, Yukhei crashed onto the bed beside you, his arms wrapping around yours, kissing your lips to distract you as he pulled out, hopping into the attached bathroom to bring out two towels, taking off your skirt before he gently cleans you up, when he was done he wiped the juices you left on him, your eyes growing big when you knew it was from when you squirted on him.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise I squirted,” you mumbled behind the hands that you had covering your embarrassed face.

Yukhei laughed at the cute sight, throwing the towel aside before climbing into bed again, removing your hands away from your face, kissing you deeply before looking at you in the eye.

“I loved it,” he said before pulling you closer, and almost instantly, you were lulled to sleep by the beating of his heart.

When you woke up, Yukhei was still snoring beside you, sleeping like a baby, you gently removed his hand from your waist, stepping out of the bed before gathering your clothes, putting them on, smoothing out the creases of your skirt.

Walking to the door, you glanced around once more at the sight of him, your heavy heart begging you to stay, to talk, and so you walked over to the night stand, ripping a piece of paper of the note pad and grabbing the pen next to it.

‘Goodbye and thank you for everything.’

You placed the piece of paper beside him on his pillow before kissing his forehead as a parting gift, closing the door as softly as you could when you left.

You knew this was the right thing to do, you made this decision once when he left for Korea the first time, you can't be in his way this time around, not when he's this far into his career, you can’t be selfish, he belongs on this path, he deserves it and you’re not going to take it away from him, you've stood on the side-lines all this time, he shed the limelight on you for one night, and that's all you should have, he's better off without you.

Yukhei felt himself grow cold when he couldn't feel the warmth of your body, jerking up to check if you were in the bathroom, only to find the door wide open, the room empty.

That's when he had spotted the piece of paper with your goodbye message, his heart clenching in pain, crashing onto the bed once more.

He didn't know what to expect, you had sent him off once, and now you left him without saying goodbye. He thought he could at least say goodbye.

Pushing his thoughts away, he gathered his things, packing up to leave for Korea.

His members could tell something was terribly off, they thought he was just in it for a casual hook up, but his expression tells otherwise.

The usual cheerful Yukhei was nowhere to be found, which meant Yang Yang and Hendery had to keep the mood light throughout the journey home, everyone knew to not say anything, only speaking when crucial.

It took Yukhei quite a while for him to get back to his goofy self, but even then, Kun, being the most observant one, saw a tightness in his smile, a faraway look in his eyes, whoever he had seen that night must've meant a lot to him, but he dare not to press, he knows Yukhei would open up when he's ready.

It was a normal Tuesday night when he had received a request to face time from you, without thinking much of it, excited to hear from you, he accepted, your beautiful face coming into view as he got comfortable on his bed.

“Hey, this is unexpected,” Yukhei said, not knowing what else to say.

“Yukhei, there’s something I need to tell you,” you said, eyes avoiding his.

“Yeah, what's up?” he asked, rubbing his nape, a habit he does whenever he's nervous.

“I'm um, I’m pregnant,” you said, choosing to not beat around the bush.

You could see Yukhei's face pale when he processed your words. Is it his? It's definitely his, it's almost a month since the two of you slept together, unless you slept with someone else?

“It's mine?” a dumb question, but he needs to know for sure.

“Yeah,” you said before the two of you come to a piercing silence.

“You could get an abortion, maybe?” Yukhei suggested after contemplating in his head, there’s no way he could be in the child’s life, and that's the best option for your sake, raising a child in Hong Kong is the most expensive thing to do, equivalent to buying a house there.

“I decided to keep it, Yukhei,” you said, glancing up to see the disbelief on his face.

“You can’t, you know I can't be there for you and you’re still so new in your job, you can't risk your life for this!” Yukhei said, not comprehending on why you'd do this to yourself.

“I already decided, Yukhei, and I don't expect you to take responsibility, this is my choice,” you said as tears threatened to flow.

“That isn't fair, it's not fair for the child! A child needs its father! You don't know what you're doing! Being a single mum is next to impossible in Hong Kong! You're putting the child in a horrible situation just for your selfishness!” Yukhei said before pushing his hair back, the feeling of an impending headache forming.

“How dare you say that?! I’ll raise this child perfectly on my own, I was just calling you to inform you of it, but since you don't want anything to do with it or me, I guess this is goodbye and don't call me anymore, I won't change my mind,” you said before your face disappeared from his phone screen.

Yukhei tried calling you immediately after, a day later, several weeks later, but you never picked up. Then he started stressing about his career, what would happen if someone were to find out? But he knows you as a person, and being a tell-tale is not one of your characteristics, yeah, he can just act like nothing happened, like he had never received this call.

He knows he's running away from his problems, but what other choice does he have?

Fast forwarding to July of 2021, Yukhei is home after his filming of the popular Chinese reality show in China, Keep Running, he feels at ease when he sees his family, finally reuniting with them, but only for a short two weeks time, before he has to leave for Korea once more.

It was a Friday night when his friends from home took him out for a drink, he was not so familiar with the clubbing scene in Hong Kong, but with the knowledge he has of this area, he knows many rich and young people often here, just like the girl kissing up his neck now, her soft hands running up the expanse of his thigh, getting dangerously close to where he wants her to be.

Yet Yukhei doesn’t remember her name, was it Candy? Apple? Some sort of name that had to do with food, he just remembered that she told him that she was an up and coming model, or trying to be anyways.

Just as she suggested to go to some hotel, Yukhei suggested for a quickie in the bathroom first, and so here he is now, being pushed to the door of a stall, her hands trying to unbuckle his belt.

Yukhei reached the back of his pocket for his wallet, opening it, looking for the condom he had placed there, but cursed when he realised he must've dropped it when he paid for drinks.

He told her to go back out and wait for him to get some, leaving the club and the musky smoke filled place behind him, the summer breeze blowing his hair all over, he brings the hood of his jacket up as he scans for a nearby convenience store, locating one at the street across.

When he got in, the scent of curry immediately greeted him, it was your favourite food, everyday after school, no doubt you'll drag him into one of these shops, just to share a bowl of curry fish balls, one of the most famous snacks here in Hong Kong.

He pushed the thought away, trudging to the aisle that was on the most right, where the condoms were at, hidden away from children. He took a box and made his way to the counter, opening his wallet to take out a few notes.

The cashier turned her back from stocking the cigarette shelf, scanning the box wordlessly.

“That would be 30,” she said when she looked up, but her hand immediately dropped the box when she saw who it was, and that's when Yukhei truly opened his eyes to see who it was, at first he was just miffed not knowing why the cashier froze, then he sees you, in the worn out 7 Eleven uniform, was you, the last person he’d be expecting.

“Why are you here? What happened to your job at the law firm? Why...” Yukhei didn't know how to ask, he didn't know if he deserved the right to ask, yet there's so many questions he had swarming in his head. Where is his child? Did you abort it in the end? Did you give it up for adoption? Were you fired from your job because of it?

“It's my shift right now, and you seem to be getting lucky tonight,” you said stiffly, holding up the box for him to see, sliding it across the counter

“It's for my friend actually,” Yukhei said, eyes avoiding yours, but immediately looking at you straight in the eyes, remembering how you use to be able to see right through him whenever he didn't do the revision work you've given him.

“Right,” you said, resisting to roll your eyes.

“You haven't answered me, why are you working here instead of the law firm?” Yukhei pressed.

You sigh at his persistence, not knowing what to say to humour him, so you didn't say anything, getting back to rearranging the shelves.

Yukhei bit his lip, not knowing what to say to you, but a million questions in his head, desperate for answers.

“Please leave if you're done with your purchases,” you said, you had a long day, and the thought of entertaining him was not something you want to add on your plate.

Yukhei looked around the store once more, grabbing a bowl of instant noodles from the shelf before making his way once more to the cashier.

“I’d like to have this here,” Yukhei said before pulling out some spare change from just now.

“Yukhei, what are you trying to do?” you asked in an exasperated tone, there's no point making small talk when there's no way the two of you would ever cross in each other’s lives ever again.

“I'm hungry, I want to eat noodles,” which wasn’t really a lie, all the alcohol he drank before gave him an appetite.

You sighed, turning your back to him, soundlessly waited for the water to boil before pouring it into the cup, sealing the top for it to cook. As you worked, Yukhei was having déjà vu, this was an all too familiar sight, nights at the convenience store studying till late at night in groups, you'd always share noodles with him as you taught him some dumb math formula that no one uses in their life after school.

He takes his bowl of noodles, opting to sit at the place closest to the counter, just looking at you, eating as slow as humanly possible.

When it was around three, you received a call.

“Hello?”

“...”

“You think you have a stomach ache? Celine jia is asleep? Okay, mama’s coming home okay?” you said frantically before shutting off the stove of the food at the counter, running to the back for a pack of meds, depositing some money into the register. You looked at Yukhei, frozen at his seat, cursing at yourself for not going into the back room before picking up the call.

“You need to go, I have something to deal with,” you said as you grabbed your bag, turning off all the switches in one go, making the place pitch black other than the lights from the lamp posts outside.

“Is that my child?” Yukhei asked, he can't allow himself to act like it never happened before, he ran away once, it's time to man up and shoulder on his responsibilities.

“No I fucked another guy before you and it's his child,” you deadpanned.

You walked down the street to flag for a taxi that is always parked there to get their club goer customers, Yukhei hot on your heels, you turned back to look at him questioningly.

“This is none of your concern, don’t follow me,” you said in a rather seething tone, you didn't mean to sound like that, but if he's going to be in the way of your child, then he’s not a friend.

“That's my child too, I want to know how they are, I have a right to do so, you studied law, you should know,” Yukhei retorted in the most friendly way possible, he knows he's in the wrong, but he wants to ensure his child’s safety.

“For fuck’s sake,” you cursed aloud before stepping into the taxi, leaving the door open for him.

You told the driver your address, sitting back to think of what's the problem, the kindergarten shouldn't be the culprit, it's a school with a good reputation, which also burns a hole in your wallet, but you don't mind, and it's not like you have much of a choice, education is deadly expensive here.

About 20 minutes later, you've reached home.

“That'll be 150, miss,” the driver said.

“What?!”

“Fares are different after midnight, miss,” the driver reminded you.

Before you could check if you had enough money on you, Yukhei paid for it wordlessly.

You got out of the car, rushing into the building and running up the stairs as quick as you can, unlocking the door, jabbing the keys into the rusty lock.

Taking off your shoes before you made your way to your room, spotting your son crouched in the corner of your bed, hands around his stomach.

“Hey, mama's home, I'll get you a glass of water to take your medicine okay?” you said before hurrying out, Yukhei passing you a glass of water at the kitchen.

“Thanks,” you mumbled before making your way back inside.

You open the package and passed you son a tablet, but looking at the size, you knew he’d panic to swallow something this big, so you broke it in half, telling him to drink a big gulp of water to wash it down and it'll be fine.

All the while, Yukhei was watching with wonder leaning by the door frame, even in the dim lights and the fact that he's still quite young, he could still identify his eyes on his son, the strong genes in his family, his father and brother all had those eyes, this boy is most definitely his.

The boy diligently does as you told him, taking a big gulp of water, so obedient, and from the way the two of you communicate, very mature for his age, nothing like the usual three year old.

When he was done, he noticed Yukhei’s presence, tugging your sleeve to whisper into your ear, eyes trained on him.

“That's a friend of mine, love, be polite, say hi to Yukhei gogo,” you urged.

Yukhei took this as a sign to get closer to his son, squatting down to meet his eye.

“You’re a handsome boy, what's your name? I’m Yukhei and I’m 22 this year, how about you?” Yukhei asked as he reached out his hand for the little boy to shake.

“I’m Wenghei, 3 years old. Why have I never seen you before gogo?” the child asks, looking at him with curious eyes, he's met some of your friends, but he's definitely haven't met him before, most people aren't as tall here, or not in his mother's circle anyways.

“Get some rest, love,” you said, tucking him into bed.

“Okay,” he said, a yawn coming out from his mouth.

You closed the door behind you, directing Yukhei to the small living room area, serving him a glass of water.

You walked to the trash bin, opening the lid to check its contents, a scowl on your face when you saw the root of your son’s stomach ache when you spot the plastic container that contained the two day old pizza from the freezer. Your roommate, Celine, must’ve gave him some as dinner, usually you'd leave some money for Celine to buy him dinner, but she must've been tight on money again, trying to find ways to squeeze in some spare change, you've warned her of her spending habits, always splurging on albums of her favourite stars, which reminds you.

“You have to go, I’m living with a roommate and I'm sure she's going to recognise you,” you said, a hand gesturing at the door.

“Wait, did you find out why he had a stomach ache?” Yukhei asked.

“Yeah, he ate something he shouldn't have for dinner, you have to go, I need some rest for tomorrow,” you said, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Do you have anything on tomorrow? Can I see you, perhaps?” Yukhei asked, he didn't know what he wanted to talk about, but he just had to see you again.

“I’m tutoring a student at a coffee shop tomorrow, you can come right after,” you said, thinking that he just wants to know more about his son.

“Okay, goodnight then,” Yukhei said awkwardly as he walks towards the door.

“Goodnight,” you said, feeling a weight on your chest, dreading tomorrow’s meeting.

When Yukhei arrived at the café, he could see you sitting at the way back, a teenage girl sitting in front of you, back facing him, he sipped on his latte, observing you silently.

Your hair is much longer than it had been in high school, the bag hung by your chair very much worn out, and your eye bags were heavier than on days where Yukhei would stay up to prepare for promotions.

Soon, the student was packing up, leaving the table, Yukhei took this as a sign to move to your table. You had stood up to greet him, and that's when he saw, you had lost lots of weight, and he's not meaning it in a fitness way, he recognised the jeans you are wearing, you had these even back then, they used to be a perfect fit for you, that's why they were your favourite, but now, you were wearing a belt to hold it together, and still he could see how loose it was.

“Hey, you didn't order anything?” Yukhei asked, noting that the cup of coffee he saw just now belonged to your student.

“I got a coffee in my flask, cheaper that way,” you said as you packed up your stationaries.

“What did you have for breakfast? How about I order you a piece of cake?” Yukhei suggested, looking back to see what they have today.

“It's alright, I'm not hungry, why don't we get straight to the point? What is it you want to ask about Wenghei?” you asked, noting the time on your watch, you have to leave around noon to fetch your son from pre school.

“I, how about you? Why did you leave the firm? And how’s your parents?” Yukhei started off.

“Well, they said I would’ve been an embarrassment to the firm, you know, pregnant and unmarried, so they told me to leave, it's not like filing could be done with a big weight in my stomach, so I did as they said. Now I tutor kids English and work the night shift at the convenience store, and as for my parents, they kicked me out,” you said, laying down the cards, no point avoiding his questions, especially not when you're in a hurry.

Yukhei nodded at your words, registering the fact that he had a fault in ruining your hot shot lawyer dreams and completely destroyed your sensitive relationship with your parents, how is he ever going to forgive himself?

“I’m sorry,” Yukhei said, he didn't know what else to say, how could he make it up to you and your son? Will you let him even if he could?

“Don't be, this is on the both of us, are you going to ask about the share custody stuff? If so, I don't think we should continue this conversation, Wenghei doesn’t know who you are, and maybe that's the best case scenario, what point would be made if he knew you were his father but you're not in our lives? It'll break his heart. You've seen him now, maybe you can reconnect with him when he's older, I think you should just say goodbye before you go, if you want,” you said, saying these harsh words aloud wasn’t easy, you’re not entirely a cold hearted bitch, but it's for the best that your son didn’t know about his father, no one wants to know the fact that their father abandoned them twice, some truths are better to be untold.

“Can I see him one last time, maybe tonight? For dinner? I'm leaving in two days,” Yukhei said in a defeated tone.

“Yeah, sure, I'll take the shift off tonight,” you said, eyes avoiding his, you could just tell he’d have those sad puppy eyes on his face right now, you don't need anymore guilt in your heart.

“Hey man, where were you?” Jackson asked Yukhei, who was waiting for him at the harbour, they were going to Macau for a day trip today, his friend isn't late for the boat, but they did schedule to meet 15 minutes earlier.

“Something came up, and I need to head back around 7, there’s some people I need to see,” Yukhei said as they boarded the boat.

“So that leaves us 5 hours, should be enough,” Jackson said, checking his watch.

“I’m sorry about this, man, it just came up suddenly,” Yukhei said as they took their seats, apologetic because they have been talking about this trip for a long time now.

“It's okay, dude, but what's up? You look really stressed,” Jackson asked, taking in Yukhei's clenched jaw and furrowed brows, a stark contrast from his usually carefree expression.

“It's a long story,” Yukhei said as he mindlessly watches the sea from the little window of his seat.

“Well, if you don't mind, this is a 45 minutes journey, maybe we'll be able to find a solution together, what are friends for am I right?” Jackson offered, he wouldn't press his friend if he didn't want to tell him about it, but the two of them have been close ever since going on knowing brothers, coming from the same home country and everything.

And so Yukhei, for the first time, told his friend his long love story.

“You know, I think I have a solution for you, but let me ask you one thing first, do you still love her?” Jackson asked as he ate his pork chop bun, Macau’s famous local snack.

Yukhei pondered over his friend’s question, yes the two of you agreed to break up, but all the girls he dated after you, all had similar features or personality traits to you, he had dismissed it as just a type, but now that he had seen you again, he realised that the hole in his heart was always emptied for you, you were the missing puzzle piece all along.

“You don't even have to answer me, your face tells all man,” Jackson said, an oily finger wagging at the direction of his face.

“Yeah, I think I do,” Yukhei said with a sigh, “but even if I still love her, that doesn’t mean she loves me back, and what if we do love each other? We're living oceans apart,” Yukhei said in a defeated tone.

“Now here comes my solution, so you said she got fired from her law firm and is now tutoring kids and doing the night shift at 7 E, and got kicked out by her shitty parents, so she really doesn't have anything else here for her other than her son, why don't you suggest get to move with you? To Korea? It'll be way easier for the two of you to raise your son, even if the two of you don't get back together, I mean, at least you'll be able to financially support them, that is what you're willing to do right?” Jackson asked, hoping that his friend would uptake his part of the child support.

“Yeah, of course I want that, I just don't know what she'll say, or if she'd be willing, she doesn't speak the language and it's an entirely different environment,” Yukhei said, thinking back the days where he had a tough time adjusting.

“From what you told me, she sounds like a tough nut, but of course, this is all up to you, but just so you know, I would really like to be his godfather, and as for your doubts of her love towards you, she did name him after you, isn't it the same Hei?” Jackson said with a hearty chuckle, he could just imagine the fun they'll have together, he was always fond of children.

“Yeah, I’ll persuade her on this,” Yukhei said, he could already feel himself getting nervous for tonight’s dinner, it can’t be that much of a coincidence that his son’s last name resembled his right? Or is he and Jackson just being delusional?

“Now that's my buddy, now come on, finish your food so that we’ll make it in time for the next batch of Portuguese egg tarts, I remember they have a fresh batch around 4,” Jackson said, mouth salivating at the thought of more food.

When you arrived at the restaurant, it was fancier than what you had expected, feeling underdressed among the rich elite of Hong Kong in your old dress that you wear for every special occasion.

You asked if there was a reservation under your name, since Yukhei said he had it booked under you, and almost immediately, since not that many people can afford places like these, the waiter led you in.

“Mama, what is this place? We've never ate here before,” your son asked you.

“It's a French cuisine restaurant, we’re meeting gogo here, remember him? Or were you too sick that day?” you said as you placed him on the baby chair you had requested for.

“Yeah, I remember,” your son said as he looks around in awe, registering the pretty chandeliers that look so sparkly.

When the waiter handed you a menu, someone had joined your table, his hoodie pulled up so no one would recognise him, pulling it down when he saw that there wasn't any other customers around.

“Sorry, am I late?” Yukhei asked with a sheepish smile, a hand lifting up to check the time.

“No, we’re just early, say hi to Yukhei gogo, love,” you directed the last part to your son, patting his little hand to get his attention, smiling immediately when he lands on the tall figure.

“Gogo, you're here,” your son said excitedly, making grabby hands at him, letting his father carry him with a large smile on his face.

“Hey, buddy, don't you look excited to see me?” Yukhei said before blowing raspberry at his neck, making the young boy giggle.

What you didn't expect was to see someone coming up behind Yukhei, a little bit shorter and smaller in built, but when he pulled his hoodie down, you instantly recognised who it was.

“Jackson Wang?” you asked, blinking your eyes a few times to see if you were hallucinating.

“Hey, it’s nice to finally meet you, you look lovely tonight, and you must be little Wenghei, aren't you adorable, how about Jackson gogo take you out to buy toys, huh? I saw a big toy store just across the street, but only if your ma says yes of course,” Jackson said, giving you a side eye to Yukhei.

“Yeah, sure,” you said, it's not like the Jackson Wang is going to kidnap your son right?

“Don’t worry, I’ll watch him with my life,” Jackson said as Yukhei passes his son over to him, leaving the restaurant with his hood up once more.

“Is there something you'd like to say?” you asked Yukhei after he had taken the seat across you his hands were shaking slightly as he holds up the menu.

“I... I still love you. And I know I must sound like a jerk to you, hell I’d go back in time just to hit myself for running away, I'm really sorry for that. What I did was inexcusable, my career just stabilised at that time, and I was under immense stress from SM, you have every right to be mad at me, but I want to be apart of your life again, apart of Wenghei’s life as well, if you could let me have this second chance, I'll do anything to make the both of you happy,” Yukhei said in one breath, reciting what he had practised over and over again with Jackson in the car.

“Yukhei, I,” you were lost for words, you thought you were saying goodbye once more, that Yukhei and you would always end up in goodbyes, but now here he is, saying he loves you.

“Yukhei, you can't just say you love me for the sake of our son, and neither would you need to take responsibility for him, I chose to have him, and as for love, we can never be together, you’re an international super star now, and you're living in Korea, I don't think I have the energy to be in a long distance relationship with you, that would take a toll on Wenghei too, how am I going to explain to him that his father is in another country? He’ll always question your love for him and I don't want that,” you said, trying to hold in the tears that had built up in your eyes, your throat closing up, the cold facade you built for yourself crumbling down before his eyes.

“You can move to Korea, both of you, we can be a family,” Yukhei pleaded, his hands reaching forward to hold yours, his eyes searching yours.

“We can’t, what if we break up? What if your so called love for me, is just something you feel as a result of our child? You can't uproot the two of us when there's so many uncertainties, especially our emotions,” you said, you don't want either of you to be stuck in a relationship for the sake of raising a child, no one would be happy in the end.

“Love, you don't understand, I've never had a serious relationship after you, I tried, I really did, but I’d always think of you instead, how badly I wanted you instead of someone who reminds me of you, the thing is, I’ve always loved you, and I think you still love me too, or you wouldn't have named our son after me, am I right?” Yukhei hoped, why else would you come up with that name right?

Damn it, you thought to yourself, he saw right through you, maybe you shouldn't have named your son after him.

You looked at him and looked away, darn those puppy eyes, you’re sure you’re crying now, and Yukhei reaching over to wipe away your tears just confirmed it.

“I love you, it's always been you, only you,” Yukhei confessed.

“I, I love you too, Yukhei, and I was never mad at you for running away from us, I know how tough that industry is, but what if your fans find out about us?” you asked, slightly worried that he might lose it like last time.

“Then so be it, true fans would stay,” he said in an affirmative tone, reassuring you.

“You promise?” you asked, holding out your pinky, it would’ve been a funny sight to see if anyone saw the two of you now, crying and smiling at the same time.

“I promise,” Yukhei said before hooking his own pinky to connect with yours.

“If you leave us, Wong Yukhei, I’ll murder you in your sleep,” you said as threatening as you could sound.

“I plan to see our son grow up, so I'll value my life,” Yukhei said in utmost sincerity before grabbing a napkin to wipe away all your tears, you’re glad that you didn't wear any mascara today.

Just when Yukhei wiped away the tears in his eyes, Jackson was back with your bubbly child, his arm had bags digging into his flesh.

“Oh my god, that's too much, Wenghei why did you get so many, this is Jackson gogo’s hard earned money,” you said, lecturing your son.

“It's okay, he's an angel, this was all on me, and I guess things went well?” Jackson asked, eyes darting to your connected hands.

“Yeah,” you said, the biggest smile you had on your face.

“That's great to hear, I always wanted to be an uncle, now if you’ll excuse me, I don't think I should crash this family reunion any longer,” Jackson said giving his best friend a hug before leaving.

“So... What do you like to eat Wenghei? How about we get crème brulé,” Yukhei asked, pointing at the menu with childlike eyes, reminding you of the days where he’d get ice cream with you, splitting it on half for you to share.

“Sounds delicious.”

You let Yukhei order everything, sharing between the three of you while the three of you talked, Yukhei mostly directed the questions at his child, asking about his interests, his favourites of everything, ranging from colour to ice cream, eager to make up for loss time.

“How about we talk about where you'll be staying?” Yukhei asked after ordering dessert.

“Oh, I don't know what I'll be able to afford, I'll probably get another convenience store job again, so the rent can't be too high,” you said, dreading the thought of needing to learn a new language quickly for a job.

“Hey, you don't need to work anymore, nor pay rent, I already looked it up, there's an empty unit in our condo, the soundproofing might be a bit lacking, but that wouldn't be a problem if you don't sing in the shower like Dejun, we had a few noise complaints because of him,” Yukhei said, laughing at the fond times he had at the dorms.

“Yukhei, I know housing is really expensive there, are you sure you want to do this?” you asked once more, you don't want him to resent the financial burden the two of you would add onto him.

“What did I say to you just now? I said what I meant, I want the two of you to be in my life, forever. And don't worry about money, I saved up plenty and there’s many more jobs coming up for me, and moving out of the dorms would be the next step of adulthood to me, and we’ll get to spend so much more time together, right Wenghei?” Yukhei asked, pinching your son’s chubby cheeks teasingly.

“We’ll be living together, Yukhei gogo?” your son asked, a confused expression on his face, he had his attention trained on some pink fong video, something about dinosaurs.

“Yeah, Wenghei, we’ll be moving out of our little room, are you excited? We're going to a new country. Remember the dramas I watched with you? Korea has that big outdoor theme park you said you always wanted to go, and snow, you'll get to make snowmen during the winter,” you persuaded, hoping he won’t fuss too much about the move.

“Really? There’s snow in Korea?” your son asked, excited about the winter scene he’ll get finally see in real life.

“Yeah, real snow, not the bubbles in Disney land, are you excited?”

“Yeah, is Jackson gogo going to stay with us too?” your son asked, eyes darting to his new goodies before looking at you expectantly.

“Well, Jackson gogo has his own house and we have ours, but we can always visit him,” Yukhei explained.

“Hehe, okay,” your son said before getting distracted by the crème brulé set in front of him, digging in immediately.

“When do you want us to make the move?” you asked, thinking of all the things you have to pack, which isn't a lot, but you might have to courier some of your clothes over first.

“Whenever you want, I'll get our home ready as soon as possible, is there anything you need in the house? Other than the basics of course,” Yukhei asked, uncertain of any needs you have as a woman or maybe for your son.

“Can we have a study room for Wenghei? With a desk and shelves? We love to read, and he'll need a proper desk when he's older,” you asked, hoping it wasn't too much.

“Yeah, sure, I'll be sure to get it done,” Yukhei said, noting it down into his phone.

“But it's no rush on the study room part, he's just three after all, before I go, I have to apply visas for both of us,” you said, dreading the thought of filling up paperwork, you haven't done much of that ever since you left the law firm.

“Call me if you need any help on that, I'm sure my manager knows how to,” Yukhei said.

“You’re going to tell your company about us?” you asked, knowing how strict Korean entertainment companies are.

“They can't let me go just because of having my own family, they didn't let Jongdae, my senior, go, so we’ll be fine, I promise,” Yukhei said, reaching a hand over to hold yours reassuringly, his eyes looking into yours, filled with love and adoration.

“Okay, now how about we walk around the complex until 10? Wenghei doesn't have school tomorrow,” you suggested.

“Yeah, sure, we could even stay out later if you want,” Yukhei said enthusiastically, getting up slightly to call for the bill.

“You have a flight to catch tomorrow,” you reminded him in your motherly voice, which you regretted almost instantly, cursing yourself, reminding yourself to act more like an actual 22 year old, but Yukhei didn't say anything about it, hiding his smile by nodding deeply, almost like a bow.

“Okay, I just wanted to spend more time with the two of you,” Yukhei said, stopping when he saw the waiter coming back with the credit card machine, paying with just a glance at the bill.

The three of you spent your remaining time shopping and at the arcade, playing games with your son, Yukhei had insisted on getting you a new pair of sneakers, but you shot him down when he wanted to buy more stuff, especially toys for Wenghei.

“You can buy him toys when we’re there, it'll cost even more to ship more stuff over, and there's a risk of damaging the toys as well,” you said.

But of course your son threw a fit at the shop, all for some legos.

“Hey, buddy, I'll buy you lots the next time I see you, okay? I'll buy you one that's even bigger than this,” Yukhei said, squatting down next to his son, and even then he wasn't eye level with him, sometimes you forget how tall Yukhei actually is until you see a scene like this, or when you stand really close to him.

When it was 10pm, painful goodbyes were exchanged with a promise of face timing everyday, your son cried, and held onto his father dearly, and you haven't even told him Yukhei was his dad, but their bond is evident.

Yukhei held onto you and your son until his taxi came, and you waved until you couldn't see the taillights.

It's been a month since that fateful reunion, and Yukhei has squeezed in face times, calls, and texts in between schedules, giving you and your son time despite his busy career.

His company wasn’t too happy about it of course, but was somewhat glad that you weren't one to babble your business to gossip outlets.

You're now packing your things, one last time, you've been to the post office multiple times before to courier out your stuff to Korea, and every time a box reached his address, Yukhei would take a photo of it, telling you the stuff arrived safely.

Progress on your new home was quick, since it was already a fully furnished unit, Yukhei only needed to buy some furniture and things that cater to your son’s needs, he even picked out a pre school that teaches mandarin, perfect for your son’s adjustment in such a foreign country.

Tomorrow you'd be flying to Korea, a new country, a new start, but there was something clouding your mind, something you've been dreading, but today is the day you’ll tell him.

“Wenghei, can you come to mama for a second?” you asked, soon hearing your son’s tiny footsteps nearing you.

“Yes, mama?” your son asked, a hand around his precious teddy.

“There's something I need to tell you,” you said holding him close to you, letting him sit onto your lap.

“Remember how you asked me why you didn't have a baba while all your other classmates did?” you asked, trying to word it as nicely as possible.

“You said my baba had a really big responsibility, that he couldn't see us because of it, that he'll come back when he's free,” your son answered you, struggling to remember more details.

“Yes, good job, Wenghei, your memorising skills are getting better. Well, your baba is actually Yukhei gogo, he’s back now, and we can finally be a family again,” you said before holding in a breath, not knowing how he’ll react.

“Baba is Yukhei gogo? That's why we’re going to Korea?” your son asked, confusion written on his face.

“Yeah, do you like that he's your baba?” you asked, this could be the most important question ever.

“Yeah, mama, do you love baba? Does baba love you as much as I do?” your son asked, which very much surprised you, but expecting this sort of maturity from him.

“Yes, we love each other, and both of us love you as much too,” you said with a pinch of his chubby cheeks.

“Do we ever have to be separated from baba again?” your son asked, scared of losing his newfound father.

“No, never again, and can you do me one favour, Wenghei? I think the next time when you see your baba, you should run up to him and say hi baba, he’ll be very happy to hear you call him that,” you suggested, imagining the look on Yukhei’s face.

Your son giggled at the thought of making his father happy, agreeing immediately.

“Okay, now go to sleep, it's going to be your first time flying tomorrow,” you said, ushering him onto the bed.

“Okay, goodnight, mama,” your son said to you, just like he did every other night, he seemed to have accepted it very easily, maybe it was due to his age, but some day he might ask his father about his departure personally when he understands more, but that’s a hardship that’s reserved for another day.

The flight was relatively short, though it was rather hard for Wenghei at the start because of the pressure he had experienced in his ears, the crying and whining got you plenty of dirty looks from passengers around you, but you paid no mind to it, you’ve been through worst so this is nothing that can faze you.

When you got there, you saw a lady holding up a plaque with your name on it, her phone in her hand, checking all the moms who came out of the same lane as you.

She had a friendly smile on her face when she saw you, introducing herself in mandarin, being one of Wayv’s staff, a trusted one, according to Yukhei.

She talked to you about Yukhei in general, even giving your son a bar of mini KitKat, praising him for being brave on the flight after she had asked you how was your flight.

Around half an hour later, you've reached your new home, a nice looking condominium that looked about a few years old.

Unloading took quite some time, even with the help of the staff, but what surprised you was the person who was waiting for you inside the lobby.

“You're here!” you said surprised at the sight of the giant.

“Yeah, I am, wanted to give you a surprise, sorry I couldn't be outside, some crazy fans camp outside, can’t let them bring you and Wenghei any harm,” Yukhei said as he carried Wenghei, spinning in a small circle, looking at him with full of love.

“I understand, don't worry, I'm not a teenager girl anymore,” you said as you checked out the place, the sitting area had a couch set and free WiFi, this is a 180 from the living conditions in Hong Kong.

“Baba, did you miss me?” your son asked when he had stopped giggling from his father’s spins, which instantly ceased to a halt, eyes growing as wide as saucers.

“What did you call me? Say it again,” Yukhei said with the biggest smile on his face, all of his teeth were showing.

“Mama said you were my Baba,” Wenghei said like it was as simple as two plus two.

“Yeah... I am your baba, and you're my son,” Yukhei said before holding his son even closer, you could even see the tears at the corner of his eyes.

“Why don't we go see our new home Wenghei?” you suggested, seeing that some people have came out from the lifts, typical going to work hours.

You walked a feet away from Yukhei, not wanting to draw attention, holding onto the lift for Yukhei to bring all your luggage in.

Once you were at your level, you started loosening up, noticing that no one was around.

“This is my members’ unit,” Yukhei said pointing at a door, “And this is ours,” Yukhei said before opening the door for you, welcoming you into a warmly decorated home, every piece of furniture was placed and chose to accommodate your child, all the corners were covered with this e rubber safety stickers.

He showed you into Wenghei's room where the bed had all his favourite characters in the form of a plushie, his bed was soft when you sat down on it, and the blanket he had picked out was a soft fleece material, perfect for the cold weather.

Your son was going around every corner, awing at everything his father had gotten him, especially the Lego sets that were on his desk.

“Thank you, it's beautiful, his room,” you said when Yukhei wrapped an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him, god how much you've missed his warmth.

“Go take a look at your room,” Yukhei said before pulling your hand into the direction of the master bedroom, welcoming you into a room with a king size bed and silk linen sheets, an aesthetic looking vanity that you've always wanted as a teenager, now as well of course, and a little reading corner just for you by the window.

“It's all I've ever wanted,” you said in disbelief, not knowing how could Yukhei pull this off in such a short time.

“You like it? I got some help from my members, especially Kun for the kitchen, you should check it out afterwards, you always wanted a big kitchen area,” Yukhei said as you laid on the bed, giving your stiff body a rest from the journey.

“Lay down with me for a while, I’m a bit tired from the flight,” you said, making grabby hands at him.

“Nah, I shouldn’t, this is your bed,” Yukhei said, looking flustered.

“Wong Yukhei, I’ve had your child and now you're acting all innocent?” you asked in an accusing tone, playing with him, which made him lay down next to you immediately, he didn't like getting you angry, thinking back all those days when you had lectured him just like that when he forgot to do his homework.

“You want me to sleep here?” Yukhei asked carefully, observing your expressions.

“This is our bedroom, where else do you want to sleep?” you asked, but was promptly cut off by Yukhei's lips on yours, smiling as he kissed you, gentle but expressing all his love for you, a hand lingering on your back, guiding you closer than him.

Many mistakes that had to be made had guided you here, but you've never regretted, for if it wasn't for the hardships and the crossroads, you wouldn't have found a home with the man you'll cross oceans for.

The end.

#lucas smut #lucas fluff #lucas wong #wong yukhei #wayv smut #wayv fluff #nct #nct smut #nct fluff #wayv #this is rather cliche sorry

225 notes · View notes

mrs-gucci · 3 years

Text

Casting Couch {Charlie Barber x Reader}

author’s notes: hello, hello! I was driving home from work the other day and this idea just suddenly took over my entire thought process. so, naturally, I went ahead and wrote it up :)

warnings (what you see here is what you’ll get!): smut. the enemy of my enemy is my ally (with benefits). p in v sex. protected sex. rough oral sex. cum- swallowing.

(possible) tw’s: semi-public sex.

word count: 3.2k

charlie’s taglist peeps! {charlie currently doesn’t have any taglist peeps} my general taglist peeps! @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea @gildedstarlight @mrs-zimmerman @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee @pascalisfairyy @I-can’t-draw-faces @ahsoka1 @babbushka @safarigirlsp (if you’d like to be added to or removed from any of my taglists, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist)

Two Years Ago.

“Y/N...she fucking did it again.” Nicole says as she barges through the door of hers and Charlie’s shared brownstone. “She got the fucking TV gig.”

Charlie’s eyebrows furrow a bit before looking up at his wife with an empathetic expression, setting the notebook and pen he’d been using down on the coffee table.

“Bummer. I really thought you had it in the bag.” He says, elbows on his thighs as he leans forward a bit, folding his hands. “There will be other roles; I wouldn’t worry too much. You win some, you lose some; that’s how it goes in this industry. You’ve taken plenty of roles from her.”

She sighs, nodding. “Yeah, I know, but this one I was excited about. And I really thought I had it, too. It just stung a little extra, you know?”

Her husband nods, patting the seat next to him on the couch. “C’mere, sit with me. We’ll have a glass of wine.”

Nicole gives somewhat of a dreadful grimace, a clear sign she really wasn’t interested. Charlie’s been noticing this for the past few months, her disinterest in being with him as much as she usually was, but he figured it was just her being tired. She’s been doing a lot of odd jobs to make some ends meet lately, so it’s probably a result of that.

“Are you sure?” He asks, a twang of longing sadness in his voice.

She nods. “Yeah, I’m just gonna go lay down for a bit.”

Charlie just nods, picking back up his notebook and pen, continuing to review and add to his notes from the day.

“Let me know if you need anything.” He calls after her. “I love you.”

She only offers him a small smile over her shoulder in return before emerging into their bedroom, closing the door immediately behind her.

Present Day.

It feels strange, holding auditions for a female lead. He hasn’t had to do so in almost a decade; just yet another reminder of how much of his life has changed just in the past year.

The divorce had been painful, stressful, and he was honestly more relieved than anything when it finally came to a close, despite it not really turning out the way he’d hoped for in terms of custody over Henry.

Luckily, he’s dove deeper into his one true love, directing, as a way to cope with the loss of everything he’d worked so hard to build for himself; the marriage, the 'American dream’ family and home he wished he’d had growing up.

Now, after six months of weekly therapy appointments and keeping himself busy with work, he’s feeling more like the old Charlie he was back before everything went to shit. Actually, he’s feeling like an even better version of that Charlie, the best version of himself there’s been in a while, perhaps even before he met and married Nicole.

The first audition comes onstage and Charlie can’t decide what’s worse, her off-pitch singing or her monotonous speaking voice.

God, this was going to be a long fucking day.

You’d heard through the grapevine that the famed Broadway director had moved here to LA, and that he’d divorced his witch of a wife, Nicole.

Nicole Barber had been your biggest rival ever since you swiped that first movie role away from her. She hates you, and you don’t particularly like her, either, thus your rivalry began. And it was pretty heated, too; the two of you were always trying to one-up each other.

It really was a back-and-forth battle, her swiping roles from you, you returning the favor; it was a game, to put it simply. Although lately, you’ve been getting more roles than she has, not that you’re complaining, and there’s a part of you that hopes she quits the business for good.

Word got around that Charlie is heading his first LA Broadway production and what better way to hit Nicole close to home than to show up at her ex-husband’s auditions? Even better, what if you got the female lead in her ex-husband’s production? Oh god, that would be fantastic, not only for the rivalry but also for your career.

You’ve been looking to branch out into more theater roles, and this is as good an opportunity as to dip your toe in the theater world water. Plus, you’re not necessarily complaining about having the chance to look at and work with Charlie Barber every day...

So you prepared your piece of dialogue and a section of one of the choice songs, heading over to the theater fifteen minutes before your set audition time. Your knee bounces as you sit in the waiting area, eyes running over your script and lyrics sheet one final time, solidifying it all in your memory.

Your name is called a few minutes later and you head out onto the stage, handing over your headshot and qualifications resume. The agent hands over your profile to the handsome director, but he doesn’t even really look at it, already knowing exactly who you are. A small smirk grazes his lips as he flips to a new page of his notebook, clicking the top of his pen.

“Whenever you’re ready, Miss Y/N.”

After you’re finished, Charlie scribbles one final thing in his notebook before looking up at you. His eyes trail over your figure for a moment, another smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Would you be comfortable coming back for a more intimate audition later this week? Maybe, Friday at four? I would like to get to know you better, see if you meet all of my... qualifications.”

The look in his eye tells you all you need to know about the true motivations behind his question. You nod, biting your lip.

“It’d be my absolute pleasure, Mr. Barber.” You purr.

He shifts in his seat suddenly and quickly crosses one leg over the other before opening up your folder, handing the top sheet to his assistant.

“Diane, go ahead and have Miss Y/N put down all of her contact information.” His gaze never leave you as he speaks to the timid-seeming young woman. “Make sure she gives her personal cell number.”

You pull a pen from your bag on the stage, clicking it open before Diane hands you the paper. As you write every means of contact you can think of, starting with your cell number, you playfully bite the end of the pen and tap it against your bottom lip, something that certainly keeps the already attentive director’s full attention.

“Thank you so much for this opportunity, Mr. Barber.” Your tone is innocent-sounding, but your gaze is anything but. It sends a chill down Charlie’s spine. “I promise I won’t disappoint.”

“Oh, I’m sure you won’t.” A small tug at one corner of his lip accompanies his response. “See you soon, Miss Y/N.”

You offer him a nod.

“Looking forward to it.”

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

In preparation for your upcoming...meeting with Charlie, you take a quick trip to the nearest intimates store, picking up a pretty little lace bra and panty set. Your lingerie wardrobe is long overdue for a bit of sprucing up, anyway.

When the time comes, you slip the fresh lace garments on before putting on your planned outfit, a cute-but-subtly-sexy low cut romper. You put on a light face of makeup, purely for professionalism’s sake, then head out with a small bag which contains various personal items as well as your script and composition page.

He’s not in his backstage office when you arrive, but he comes in a couple minutes later, a strong stench of cigarette smoke trailing behind him as he walks by your chair.

“I apologize for the delay. You weren’t waiting long, were you?”

You shake your head as he takes a seat behind the ratty oak desk, shifting a few small stacks of papers around on the heavily scratched surface.

“No, no I wasn’t waiting long.”

He nods, then folds his hands atop the desk, eyes flickering up to meet yours. For a moment, his eyes dart down to where your cleavage creeps out of your low-cut top.

“You’ve got the part.” Charlie says with a small smile. “You’re by far the best and most qualified audition we had yesterday, and I like the way you carry yourself. You’re exactly the type of person I like working with. Part’s yours if you want it.”

You’re overcome with joy, a wide smile spreading itself across your lips. “I’d love to be a part of this production, Mr. Barber. I’m really excited to get to work with you and the rest of the crew.”

“That’s great, I’m glad to hear it.” He nods, smile widening when as he processes your acceptance. His delighted expression falls after a few moments, replaced by one much more salacious.

“Now that we’ve gotten that part out of the way...I think you know why I called a meeting of such, uh, privacy.”

You smirk softly, shifting around in your seat slightly. “I believe I do.”

His feet plant on the ground as he pushes the rolling office chair out from under the desk, standing up and walking around the desk to tower over you.

“Before anything happens, though, I want you to know that whether or not you do this with me will not affect my casting decision. Even if you decline, you still have the part.”

You nod before standing, quickly and swiftly, stepping forward to press yourself flush against him.

“Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

Your hands rest on his chest, neck craning slightly to look up at him. “Just kiss me, will you?”

He laughs, massive hand moving to cradle the back of your head before he bends down and connects your lips in a passionate kiss. There’s nothing tender or gentle about this embrace, it’s all tongue and teeth, raw lust coursing between your two bodies.

“Couch.” His voice is soft but husky.

“Unzip me first?” You ask, turning around so he can unzip you. He does, then his hands slide down to your hips and pushes you towards the leather couch tucked in the corner of his office.

The material squeaks when you’re laid down on top of it, head resting comfortably on the cushy fabric accent pillow as he climbs on top of you. He presses his hips forward while he tucks his face into the crook of your neck and plants kisses on the skin there.

Your eyes widen as his impressive bulge rubs up against your inner thigh and you quickly wonder how in the world you’ll be able to take him. His crooked teeth scrape over the taut muscles in your neck while his hands pull the backs of your romper down over your shoulders.

His hands grab and grope your breasts beneath where they rest in your nice bra, one you wore just for him, and your back arches slightly up off the cushions with a soft sigh.

A small smile crosses his expression, teeth sinking gently into your neck. “I like the little noises you make for me, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You smirk, running your hands through his hair. “Then I bet you’ll like my moans, too. If you think you can draw them out of me, that is.”

He laughs softly, sucking and licking at at the place his teeth have just abused. “Is that a challenge?”

“Well, it’s more like an invitation to prove yourself, but ‘challenge’ is also a good word for it.”

Charlie pulls away with a smirk, shaking his head as he sits back on his haunches and begins to unbuckle his belt.

“Brat.”

Once he’s undone his pants and pulled them down enough to expose himself to you, he leans down once more and pulls your romper the rest of the way off, leaving you completely bare, minus your undergarments. His eyes roam your figure for a moment before he dips a hand beneath the patch of black fabric nestled between your thighs.

Your breath hitches as his fingertips swipe over your erect clit, giving it a few little circles before yanking the panties off your hips and down your ankles, tossing them down alongside your previously-discarded romper.

His eyes widen in realization, cheeks flushing pink.

“Do you have any, um, protection?”

You smirk, nodding as you sit up and pat his chest. “Indeed, I do.”

He crawls off of you and you walk over to your purse, grabbing a condom from the mini-stash you keep in your wallet, the one you replenished just minutes before you left the house this afternoon. He takes it from you and pinches the tip, rolling it down his shaft. For a moment, you’re worried that it isn’t going to fit, but he rolls it on with little issue.

His hips press forward, then, entering you slowly but steadily with a soft grunt. You whine as your insides stretch out around him, hands reaching up to tangle in his hair. “S-Shit.”

“You’re really fucking tight, jesus.” He growls between gritted teeth, jaw screwed shut as his hips begin to move. “I haven’t fffucked anyone in a while, Y/N, so I can’t guarantee that I’ll last very long.”

You nod, softly. “It’s alright, Charlie; it’s been a little while for muh--me, too.”

Your eyes flutter shut and your face begins to scrunch up with each time his fat cockhead brushes up against your cervix. His pace increases after a minute or so, a consistent slap-slap-slap noise now echoing off the drywall with each snap of his hips.

“You’ve got a nice little pussy, you know that? Always knew you would be, too, knew you’d be a good little cccocksleeve.”

You moan shakily as he adjusts his position, towering over you and pinning your wrists above your head with one of his large hands. Your body begins to bounce, tits, thighs and tummy jiggling each time he thrusts in.

He’s starting to sweat, a few dark hairs sticking to his dimly-glowing forehead, more and more accumulating there as his hair rocks back and forth in time with the rhythm of his hips.

“Touch yourself, now, rrrub your little clit.” His voice is getting shaky as he draws nearer to climax.

Nodding, your hand slides down between your joined bodies until your fingertips settle onto the small bundle of nerves. The hand that’s still weaved in Charlie’s locks clenches and he lets out a sudden deep growl, hips stuttering for a moment.

“Ooooh, Charlie.” You moan, hips lifting and gyrating against both his cock and your fingers.

“God, fffuck I love this cunt.” A vulgar squelching sound knits itself within the quilt of your salacious symphony. “Wrapped around my cock like a vice, gonna pull the fucking cum right out of it. Swear you get tighter each time I push back in...christ, I’m not gonna last.”

Your fingers circle your clit faster, setting a desperate pace, one that almost matches his quick and sloppy thrusts. You’re close now, too, and it doesn’t take much longer for your orgasm to hit.

You cream around him with a long moan and a string of various other noises, with a few profanities thrown in as well. The product of your release coats his shaft in a pearlescent sheen, dripping down his ball-sack soon enough.

The sensations your climax creates around Charlie forces him to pull away almost immediately after, quickly yanking the condom off and onto his office floor, squeezing the base of his flaming red length.

His hand seizes your jaw tightly, thumb pressing down on your tongue, prying your mouth open. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth and shove my cum down your throat, and you’re gonna take it all, isn’t that right?”

You’re nodding instantly, slacking your jaw to open even further in preparation for his upcoming intrusion. He smirks.

“Good. Now, on your knees.”

He sits down where you once laid, lazily pumping his throbbing length as you get into position between his spread legs. He pulls your hair up into a makeshift ponytail with his hand, then lines you up with his cock and eases your mouth down onto him.

“Thaaaaaat’s it, oh, gooooood girl.”

You start gagging about three quarters of the way down his shaft, but he still keeps pushing until you’ve got the whole thing in your mouth. Your jaw’s already getting sore as he begins thrusting upwards, fucking your mouth.

Tears swell in your eyes and begin to spill down your cheeks the more he goes, mascara surely ruined and running down your face. The sight only arouses him further, a low groan rumbling through his puffed chest.

He’s trying so hard to keep himself together, to stave off his orgasm for as long as he can manage, but soon he finds it next to impossible to hold back. His bottom lip quivers ever so slightly as his length begins to twitch, balls drawing up.

“Fuck, I’m gonna--”

You taste and feel the salty ropes shooting down your throat before he can even finish his warning.

“Ah, fffuuuuck.” His head falls back against the couch cushions, hips bucking gently as each bit of release is spilled into your mouth. His grip on your head relaxes after he’s finished, cock softening while he catches his breath and re-grounds himself in reality.

Your chest heaves as full airflow returns to your lungs, knees and jaw aching a bit sore from their exertion. You grab your underwear from where they lay discarded on top of your romper, putting them back on before standing up on somewhat shaky legs.

Charlie also redresses, standing and straightening himself out as you do the same.

“Mind zipping me back up?” You ask, turning around again.

He pulls the zipper up your back until it’s at the end of its tracks, then steps up behind you, placing a soft kiss to your shoulder blade.

“Thank you.”

A soft smile grazes your lips. “No ‘thanks’ needed; the sweet taste of revenge and spite is payment enough.”

He laughs quietly.

“Well, I’ll certainly be available, should you ever need a little replenishing of those feelings.”

“Mr. Barber, you wouldn’t be saying that because you’d like to see me naked again, now would you?” Your eyebrows raise and you look over your shoulder, a playful smile on your face.

He laughs again, blushing a bit. “Uh, yeah, sure, I'd like that a lot. But I’d also like to see you, um...not naked, fully clothed, maybe at a restaurant in the city for dinner sometime? I totally get it if you’re not interested, it’s not a big deal if you don’t want to...”

Holy shit, he’s asking you out on a date. Well, he’s trying to, at least.

You laugh, cheeks warming at his proposition.

“Sure thing. I just accepted this new job, though, so I’ll have to get back to you about my availability...”

Charlie smiles, shoving his hands down in his khaki pockets. “I’m sure your new boss would be more than willing to accommodate. He’s a pretty cool guy, or so I’ve heard. Handsome, too.”

“Oh yeah? Sounds like you have a reliable informant.” You turn around as you laugh softly, grabbing your bag off the chair before stepping up in front of him. Your lips plant a quick peck on his, hands resting on his broad chest. “See you soon.”

He nods, biting his lip to hold back his big, goofy smile.

“Can’t wait.”

240 notes · View notes

mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Incredible

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Professor!Spencer sparks a connection with a spunky student. Category: FLUFF (of the spicy variety, so I’d rate it PG-13) Warnings: Adults with age gap (Reader is in her early 20s), language, flirting, making out, a brief mention of oral sex Word Count: 8.7k

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

Full Request: “...Okay so prof/student, and reader is so badass, has tattoos, flirt all the time, but like hate everybody except spencer, and he loves that she is so different, intriguing, dark and touchy? But like everyone in spencer life thinks that she’s using him, because of her grades, and also because they are “so different” but like they love each other, so she makes a big gesture and says fuck all of you, I love him and it’s the only thing that matters, and spencer is like heart eyes” —Anonymous

NOTE: My first go at Professor!Spencer! This is a favorite trope of mine, so I loved finally getting to delve into it myself. I hope I did it justice! Also, the original title for this was “Bad For You” and it was supposed to be a little different, but it went in a different direction than I was intending. I still hope it’s okay though!

***

Truthfully, the first time she showed up in his classroom he had a feeling. It was a feeling he didn't get very often, therefore he wasn't sure what to make of it. All he knew was that when she sat down in the front row, all the way on the right, keeping to herself, he just felt that there was something special about her.

The obvious reasoning behind this newfound feeling was most likely the multiple tattoos that adorned her skin, and the flashy, attention-grabbing makeup that surrounded her eyes and lips, but as the semester progressed, Spencer started to realize her academic confidence was taking hold of most of his attention. Sure, she stood out in the crowd, completely different from anyone else who'd entered his classroom, and without a doubt one of the most stunning women he'd ever seen. But rather than scrolling through her phone while waiting for class to start each morning, she brought out a book to read or notes to study or something else to keep her busy. If anything else, yes, he admired her work ethic, at least what he could see of it.

And as time progressed, he'd come to see her succeeding more in his class than almost anyone else. Under normal circumstances, it would have been all good and plenty, but as it turned out, Y/N was anything but normal.

The first... incident happened not long after the first week of the semester, and a group of other girls were sitting next to Y/N. Class would start in close to five minutes, and students were still filing in while the group was having a rather... interesting conversation.

Spencer had had a feeling about what it was pertaining to, but his suspicions were confirmed the second he heard Y/N's voice, loud and clear.

"For the love of God, if you're gonna talk about him like he's a hot piece of ass right in front of him, you might as well shout it from the rooftops."

He looked up to see she hadn't lifted her head from the book she was reading as she said it, flipping a page half-way through her tangent and looking unbothered, despite the connotations of her words.

Rather than being upset at her, like he figured most girls in their situation would, they all stayed silent the rest of the time and barely looked anyone in the eye.

The moment Y/N realized she had them, Spencer noticed a small smirk on her face.

Class ended about forty minutes later, and just as the bell rang, he called out.

"Uh, Y/N, could I speak to you for a second?"

She looked up at him for a brief second before nodding, and even though mostly everyone in the classroom laid out a chorus of Oooohs, she still managed to look unbothered. In fact, he could have sworn he noticed her roll her eyes for just a split second.

She packed up her things and waited for everyone to leave. And as she approached him finally, Spencer felt a slight twist in his stomach at the way she did it, her expression somewhat worrisome despite her show of confidence earlier.

"Hey," she greeted plainly. Her hands clutched onto the strap of her bag so tightly her tattooed hands looked almost pale.

"Y/N," he greeted back. "I, uh... I'm not sure exactly what happened before class, but—"

"Yeah, I know. I shouldn't have said anything, it was probably rude embarrass them like that, but it was rude of them to talk about you like that right in front of you."

Spencer paused, not really sure how to respond other than to nod. "Well, uh... I... Thank you, I appreciate that."

"Besides, they're only auditing anyway, it's not like they actually care about the subject. I mean, c'mon, if you're gonna verbally daydream about sucking your professor's dick while he's standing right in front of you, you should at least have the decency to give a shit about what he's taking time out of his day to teach you."

Well... That certainly hasn't been what he was expecting. With eyes wide and hands starting to sweat, Spencer tried to think of how to respond, but came up short. But he had to say something, so he said the first thing that came to his mind.

"I appreciate your honesty."

Y/N smiled at him. It was a genuine smile that he hadn't seen, and he wished he could see it a thousand times over.

"Well, then, Sir, can I tell you something in all honesty?"

"Always."

She looked him up and down for a moment, his heart involuntarily swelling at the way her eyes raked over him with somewhat of a mischievous gleam. "You are a hot piece of ass. And I give a shit about what you're taking time out of your day to teach me. Thank you for that."

Without another word, she turned away and walked off, leaving him with a dropped jaw that slowly transformed into an amused smile.

Two days later, a Friday to be exact, Y/N showed up a few minutes early as she had every Friday prior. Spencer turned to give her a kind smile, but she didn't look up. She promptly sat down in her seat and got out a book, finding her page and leaning back in her seat.

He didn't want to interrupt, but still he offered a bright, "Good morning," and took the chance that she might offer him a greeting back.

She did glance up from her book, following it with a little smirk and a wink. And just as quickly as it came and went, she started reading again, almost as if the greeting had never happened.

"What are you reading?" he asked before he could stop himself.

Y/N didn't look up this time. But she said, "The Da Vinci Code."

"Oh," he responded, happy he'd even gotten an answer at all. "I've never heard of it."

This time she did look up. And she looked highly amused. "You've never heard of The Da Vinci Code? Not even the movie?"

Since they were looking at each other now, Spencer only shook his head.

"Seriously?" Y/N pressed, tilting her head to the side.

"Seriously. What's it about?"

She simply stared at him some more, and he figured it was still shock over his cluelessness when it came to The Da Vinci Code, but something about the look on her face said it was something else. Something more... devious.

Finally, she said, "I'm not gonna tell you." And then she went back to reading.

He should have left it at that, should have just moved on, but he couldn't help himself. So he pressed further. "Why not?"

Y/N looked up again, and then she closed the book. "Because if it's seriously taken you this long to even hear the name of the book, or the movie, then maybe it's just not your thing."

"Well, Y/N, truth be told, there's a lot in modern pop culture that I don't know about, so... That might not be true."

The two of them held gazes for a few seconds, just completely... captivated by each other in ways neither of them had experienced or could explain. He was in awe of her blunt and snarky presence, and she was utterly taken with his modern naivete.

When she repeated his words from the day before, "I appreciate your honesty," and smiled wickedly at him, he smiled back and almost fell to his knees.

Then students started to come into class and Y/N looked down at her book, which she seemed to have forgotten that she closed, because she actually blushed and fumbled getting it open quickly, obviously not as smooth as she'd always been.

The sight made Spencer's heart flutter.

Once class ended, he looked up to see Y/N standing at his desk and holding out her book. "Here. You should read it."

"Oh, I—I can find my own copy, I— You're reading it, I couldn't..."

Y/N huffed a laugh. "I've read it like five times already, I practically have the entire thing memorized. Just give it back when you're done."

He took the book with a smile. "Well, I have just a bit of paperwork to get done, but after that I'm good to go, so if you come by at the end of the day, I can give it to you then."

She blinked at him, and for a few moments neither of them said anything.

"Oh, I, uh... I read fast," is all Spencer said to explain himself.

Y/N nodded and glanced up at the clock above his head. "Oh. Ha. Right, of course you do. Um, I'll, uh... I'll come back, then. Professor."

The title falling from her lips would have ruined him completely had she stayed any longer, but again, she walked away without another word or glance, and it left him breathless.

There was a point, later on in the day when she came back to get her book, where he'd left her equally as breathless.

He was flipping through pages at light speed, and he didn't even notice her come in and sit down in the chair across from his desk. She sat there for a good two minutes, just watching him flipping pages and muttering silent words to himself, completely unaware of her presence. She'd seen him concentrating before, grading papers while the class was taking quizzes and such, but she'd never been able to study him for more than a few seconds at a time, and as she'd deduced before, it was extremely captivating.

He was extremely captivating. And she told him as much.

Kind of.

"Look at you go," she mused, leaning forward on his desk and resting her chin in her hands.

Spencer jumped, sliding the book so it hit her elbows, and she laughed.

"Y/N, you scared me!" he gasped, clutching at his chest with his right hand. "Ho—how long have you been there?"

"A few minutes. I would've stopped you but you looked like you were in the zooone." Her fingers wiggled and tapped across her cheeks as her face still rested in her palms. A huge smile played at her lips, and despite almost being scared to death, Spencer found himself growing warmer at her amused self.

"Yeah, I guess I was," he stated, bringing his hands to slide the book back to him. He looked down at it for a moment before smiling. "I was actually re-reading it for a third time. After the first I went back to look at the notes I took, and after going through them pretty thoroughly I applied some..."

As he rambled on about the process in which he read, Y/N found herself in an even deeper trance than before. She wished more than anything that she could have payed attention to his words, so she could have a discussion about her favorite book with him, but his passion and commitment to something he didn't even know about until earlier in the day, much less something she of all people just threw at him, was just so...

"Doctor Reid?" she interrupted, almost slipping out of her hands when he stopped and tilted his head, suddenly invested in what she had to say. "Can I stop you for a second?"

"Oh.. Was I going too far? I'm sorry, as you know I tend to ramble quite a bit sometimes, and I know it can be a bit much..."

"No, that's not it. I've... gotta be honest with you about something."

"Hmm?"

She leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table and searching his eyes for a moment before speaking again. "I didn't hear a single word you just said. And I promise it's not because I'm not interested in having this conversation about The Da Vinci Code, it's... something else."

"What's wrong?"

He seemed genuinely concerned, and equally as clueless, and it did things to her insides that she hadn't felt with anyone in... well, ever.

"What's wrong is that I hate everybody. Well, hate is a strong word, and I only mean pretty much everybody that goes to school here, anyway, and it's been that way ever since my Freshman year. And yet... Somehow, I end up with this class, and in almost no time at all you've managed to learn more about me than anyone I've ever met in my three years here."

"Well... I—I'm an educator, I... it's my job to somewhat know my students."

"No, it's your job to teach me. Any other professor would have chewed my ass for saying what I said the other day, and instead you... well... I don't really know what that was the other day, but I didn't get in trouble for it. And then today you actively asked me about what I was reading and genuinely took interest in something you'd never even heard of before... And then you..." She threw her hands in the air. "You fucking read my favorite book three whole times in one day and took notes on it... Seriously, who... Who are you?"

Spencer wasn't sure what to say. Especially when all he wanted to do in that moment was tell her to keep talking to him. He found that he loved when she talked. Even when she was trying to figure him out, to understand why she'd been completely flipped inside and out by a man that was at least 20 years older than her.

Especially considering that on paper, the two of them didn't look like a conventional pair. He was tall, lean, and structurally beautiful in all the right ways, where as she was closed off and beautifully stand-offish. His skin was clear of anything and hers was adorned with tens of tattoos. His clothes were always formal and neat, while hers consisted of only jeans and plain tees and long sleeves.

If anyone saw them together, it wouldn't have made sense.

They both knew this, and yet...

"I am... utterly enchanted by you," Spencer said without thinking. He didn't have to. it was the truth.

Y/N's shoulders slumped, as if some sort of weight had been lifted from them. She smirked a little. "And I am... strangely not indifferent to you."

"Uh... Thanks?"

She laughed, genuinely laughed, and stood up. "That's a compliment, Doctor. A very good compliment."

That mischievous smile of hers returned, and it made his stomach turn over again, his own smile never wavering, and conveying every sense of wonderment that it could.

"I know this might be... unprofessional... And we definitely shouldn't do anything on school property, but... Would you maybe want to, uh... go get coffee or something some time this weekend?" he asked, trying his hardest not to feel small around her big personality.

"What, to discuss The Da Vinci Code, or to go on a date?"

By the look on her face, it was obvious that she knew they couldn't call it a date. As long as they were professionally involved like this, an actual date could never be on the table. But it seemed to be in her... rather playful nature to suggest it anyway.

The thought made his heart flutter again. Still, he said simply with a knowing smile, "To discuss The Da Vinci Code."

She nodded, throwing her bag over her shoulder and getting ready to leave. "Fine. But just so you're aware, there won't be anything stopping me from zoning out and staring at your beautiful face from time to time."

With all the truth in the world, he said, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

***

His middle finger tapped incessantly on the cool, wood surface of the picnic table in the park. It wasn't ideal to meet this far away from the nearest parking lot, but the little spot was far enough away that he was positive no one would see him meeting his student for lunch—a lunch she offered to bring despite his insisting on paying for food. In the end, it was clear that Y/N was more stubborn than he was.

That excited him.

Speaking of excitement, the moment he spotted her walking into sight, his heart rate picked up. And at the powerful surge of butterflies that swarmed in his stomach, he mentally berated himself for even feeling that way.

This was not a date.

And just when he thought he had things under control, she finally reached the table, set down a brown paper bag, and flashed him the prettiest smile he'd ever seen. Her hair was up in a low ponytail with small strands of hair sticking out and blowing in the light breeze. She wore jeans and a tight lavender tee shirt that ended just above her navel, and it had the word "Wednesday" printed on it in black block letters. It wasn't Wednesday, which equally confused and amused him, though because he'd already found her personality amusing enough, what she wore didn't matter.

Except... the more he took her in the more it really did matter, because he noticed more tattoos, which where usually covered with long sleeves and jackets, most likely as requested by the university. But under the soft glow of the September sun, he could clearly see a collage of tattoos running up her left side, disappearing under her shirt. Where it ended, he wasn't sure, but he couldn't dwell on it for too long, or he was afraid the mental images would turn his brain to mush.

Obviously he couldn't do that.

"Hey'a, Professor," she said with a little wink as she took a seat across from him.

"P—please. Outside the classroom, just Spencer is fine."

She gave him a knowing smirk and simply stated, "Okay," though there was nothing simple about it. Her words had an effect on him, and she knew how to play them to her advantage.

But she was apparently in the mood to be nice today, at least for now. Because she peeled back her playful tone and revealed something more friendly. Simple. She tilted the bag towards him and nodded.

"I brought us some subs, as requested. I hope I got your order right."

"I'm sure it's fine. Thank you."

Attempting to keep his cool around her, Spencer remained quiet as they ate. He also avoided looking at her for too long, because every time he did catch her eye she was staring at him, obviously amused as she finished off her sandwich.

But of course, at some point one of them needed to speak. Right?

So he took a sip of water and cleared his throat. "It's uh... It's really nice out today, yeah?"

Y/N laughed, tilting her head to the side and giving him a look that almost sent him flying backwards. "If that was you attempting to break the ice, Spencer, it was completely adorable... If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were nervous."

"I—No, I'm not nervous, wh—why would you think that?"

"Because you can barely look me in the eye, and then the first thing you say to me when we're finished eating is about the weather..."

She raised her eyebrow then, giving him ample opportunity to explain. So he sighed, a rather embarrassed laugh escaping his lips. "I'm sorry, it's just... You're kind of intimidating."

She gave another laugh, one that made his heart soar higher every time he heard it. "Oh please! You're my hot professor, if anything you should be the intimidating one here."

It was his turn to laugh. "Y/N, believe me, if you really knew me, you'd know I'm probably one of the least intimidating people on the planet."

There was a long pause before she nodded, a soft smile forming on her lips. "Well, then, maybe I should get to know you..."

Despite the tugging in the back of his mind that said it was a bad idea to form this close of a relationship with one of his students, especially one who made him feel all warm and fiery inside, he found himself smiling back in agreement.

***

The sun was setting by the time Spencer walked her back to her car. And after dropping off their garbage at one of the public trash bins, he found the walk rather calming. The breeze picked up a bit, somewhat settling the fire in the pit of his stomach as she talked to him about The Da Vinci Code. And then there was the fact that they'd actually spent hours talking, so much so that they hadn't even realized how late it had gotten. Needless to say, it was extremely rare for Spencer to find that type of connection to someone, the type that allowed him to speak back and forth so easily and without regret or embarrassment.

He was thinking about how nice that was when they finally stopped. In front of a motorcycle.

"Is... Wait, this is yours?" he asked her, obviously shocked but more disappointed that he hadn't guessed sooner, and probably a little too turned on than was appropriate.

"Yep," Y/N said proudly, tapping the glinting black metal. "It was a high school graduation present from my mom. She and I used to build motorcycles when I was growing up, and when we moved to the city it got pushed to the backburner. But I love this bike, I ride it everywhere."

"That's... Wow. That's nice." It was really all he could think to say as he looked at the bike and nowhere else. Because if he looked at her, especially standing next to the bike, it was sure to spell out disaster.

"So, where'd you park?" Y/N asked, pulling him from his trance.

"O—Oh. Um, I didn't. I took the train."

He didn't fully realize the weight of his words until a devious smile played at her lips. "Oh? Well... Do you want a ride home?"

"No! Uh... No, I can... I can take the train, it's not a big deal. Th—thank you though."

Despite his better judgement, Spencer looked up at her, and before him was a beautiful young woman with a gleam in her eyes and a pout on her lips that would have destroyed any man in a matter of seconds. Her hand was outstretched, dangling a shiny silver helmet from her fingers. It glinted in the soft orange glow of the sunset, tempting him in the most evil way possible.

"You've been so good to me, Professor. Let me take you home."

At this point, he had no idea whether or not she meant her words to sound as seductive as he'd heard them. His brain screamed, No! but... In the end he knew she was only being nice. She had to be... But it's not safe! Do you know how many motorcycle accidents there are per year?

Before he could stop himself, he sighed and took the helmet from her hands. "A—Are you sure?"

All his reservations were worth it to see the beaming, toothy smile that she gave him right then. "Of course! Besides, who wants to ride the train home for the thousandth time when you could ride a kickass motorcycle instead?"

He put the helmet on, laughing along with her though deep inside he was more than a little terrified. He'd never been on a motorcycle before— it wasn't ever something he thought about. And now he was about to get on the back of one with his student, who had tattoos and spunk and just about everything he didn't. She was incredibly pretty and smart, and now he was learning that she was a total badass in somewhat of a traditional sense as well.

Y/N climbed onto the bike and nodded at him to get on behind her. Thankfully she wasn't able to see how incredibly awkward he felt getting on, scooting up to press himself to her back and figuring out where to rest his hands.

"A couple rules," she said, taking the key from her pocket. "One: I need to know where you live."

"O—Oh, right."

He told her and then she nodded. "Good. I know where that is. Rule two: Try not to adjust yourself too much, it could throw us off. But honestly you don't have to worry about that. As long as you hang on to me, you'll be just fine."

"O—Okay. How should I, um..."

With a small laugh, Y/N reached behind her and grabbed his arms, bringing them around to her front. His stomach flipped at her touch, even long after it was gone.

"Hang on as tight as you need to, got it?" she called to him

"Okay."

"Good. Now. Final rule. Have fun. Look around. Feel the wind in your hair."

"But I'm wearing a helmet..."

Y/N started the bike then, and he jumped, bringing himself closer and squeezing her tightly. His face nestled into her neck as best as he could without distracting her, though she didn't seem phased by it in the least.

"You know what I mean," she called out to him. "You ready, Professor?"

"I think so!" he called back, squeezing his eyes shut despite her final rule.

"Alright, we're off!"

The bike lurched forward a few seconds later, and it took everything Spencer had not to yelp. He wasn't sure how tightly he clung to Y/N but as long as they were still going, he figured it was okay.

It was colder suddenly, and he knew that they were moving at a decent speed. So he took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes, seeing buildings and trees go by in a flash. But the longer they rode around town, the easier he found it to breathe. While his grip around Y/N's front was still fairly tight, he'd definitely loosened up a little, and she could tell. His head was turning from side to side, looking at just about everything he could, and she couldn't see it, but he was smiling wide the whole time.

It was exhilarating. It was fun. And he couldn't remember the last time he had this much genuine fun, all worries completely erased from the mind and replaced with silent whoops of joy.

And then they stopped outside his apartment, and once the loud rumbling of the bike silenced, leaving his ears with a low thumping beat that raced alongside his heart, Spencer finally loosened his grip on Y/N completely. He got off the bike and whipped the helmet off, blood rushing through his veins like he'd just fallen out of an airplane.

He paced on the sidewalk, waiting for Y/N to put the bike in park and get off, and truthfully she was a little nervous. It was definitely weird giving your professor a ride home on your motorcycle, not to mention the added obvious sexual tension between you that shouldn't be there at all. She wondered if maybe she crossed a line, and she chewed her lip nervously as she stepped onto the sidewalk.

"Spencer?" she called out softly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm..." He stopped pacing and ran his hands through his hair, which was already pretty wild after being under the helmet— which was currently on the sidewalk.

Great, Y/N thought, I fucked up big time...

But he laughed, a wide smile adorning his pretty features as he looked at her. "I'm fantastic! Y/N, that was.. I can't believe I've never done that before! We weren't even going that fast, but it felt like we were flying!" He laughed then, the sound bringing a relieved smile to her face. And then he took a step closer to her and the relief quickly transformed into genuine joy and contentment.

"That was... incredible," Spencer breathed, his smile never faltering. "You... You're incredible."

She was going to thank him, but before she could say anything he strode to her in two steps and brought her face to his in a searing kiss.

Searing... That's exactly what it was, too. Y/N whimpered into his mouth at his intensity, the way his hands dwarfed the sides of her head and the way his lips moved feverishly against hers. She slipped her hands into his back pockets and brought him closer, her touch jolting him forward and walking them back over to the bike. They stumbled a bit before Y/N was able to gently lean against it.

Meanwhile Spencer couldn't contain himself. By now he was consumed in this fire that she'd set within him, burning down his every defense and sense of logic. He couldn't get enough of her, the way her hands kneaded his ass through his pockets, and how her tongue perfectly collided with his in every way. Each little moan and whimper she let out into his mouth spurred him forward until his fingers were threading into her hair, loosening her ponytail and no doubt gently tugging at her scalp.

If that bothered her, she didn't let on, her hunger matching his in every way.

Eventually, though, she felt herself leaning back too much, and she brought her hands out of his pockets to gently brace herself on the bike, steadying them.

But that didn't slow them down in the least. Truthfully, they weren't sure if they'd ever stop, drinking each other up right there as a few cars went by and the sun set behind them.

It wasn't until Spencer moved one of his hands down to her hip, searching for bare skin, fingers slowly sliding their way farther up her side, when a chorus of, "Ow ow owwww"s and whistles and hollers sounded behind them. He pulled away rather quickly, Y/N's teeth pulling at his bottom lip before he saw a truck full of teenagers whizzing past. They honked their horn and continued hollering until they rounded the corner, and by then the fire in his veins had significantly simmered.

He stepped away from her completely, combing through his hair and blinking, trying to collect his thoughts. But they came out as a jumbled mess. "I'm.. We shouldn't ha... I'm sorry... Y/N, that..."

"I—I know..." is all she said, still bracing herself on the bike.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, trying hard not to look at her. She was obviously rattled, though he thought she didn't mind. In fact, he was pretty sure by the way she was looking at him right then that she was ready to continue what they started, though she didn't do anything about it.

She did say, though, "It's okay. I'll, uh... See you Monday."

"Y—Yeah. Monday... Thanks f—for the ride."

His whole body was numb, fuzzy as she finally moved, walking over to her helmet and picking it up. She put it on and sat on the bike, putting the key in ignition before turning to him one last time and saying two words that sure enough ignited the fire again.

"Anytime, Spencer."

Long after she sped off around the corner, out of sight but most certainly not out of mind, he stood there on the sidewalk, his lips burning and his heart racing.

***

He wasn't sure what to expect on Monday, save for inevitable awkwardness between them, but he certainly wasn't expecting to see Y/N walk into the classroom early that morning with a box in her hands.

"Before you say anything, I just want to disclose that I'm willing to not make things weird," she announced as she made her way over to his desk. She set the box down, revealing six chocolate-frosted donuts with sprinkles. "You said you liked these the other day, so I brought some as a gift... You know, to... apologize."

"Oh, Y/N, you... You don't hav—"

"No. Please, just... Look, I didn't realize it at the time, because for a moment you weren't my professor, you were... You were my friend. And I know now that insisting to let me take you home was less than professional, and I'm sorry. I really was just trying to be nice, but I... I shouldn't have..."

"Y/N, I... kissed you... I'm the one who should apologize for being unprofessional. Really, I don't... I don't know what happened, I just..."

"Adrenaline... You... You were exhilarated and happy, and there was obvious chemistry between us that wouldn't have gotten that far if I hadn't asked you to hop on my bike, so... I'm sorry."

They both looked around, hoping it was still too early for anyone to show up, and then Spencer sighed, looking down at the donuts. "I shouldn't have asked you to lunch in the first place. I... I do want to have a connection with my students, but that's not... That wasn't my intention. I crossed a line I shouldn't have, and I'm sorry."

Y/N sighed, taking a donut from the box. "You know, we can't keep apologizing back and forth like this... So... Can we call it even? We're both sorry, we both fucked up, and we both promise to... act like it never happened?"

"Is... that what you want?" he asked softly, not entirely bringing his head up to look at her, but looking at her through his eyelashes.

His gaze sent a course of butterflies through her stomach, and she hated it. She hated that she was growing fond of her hot professor and that she couldn't stop thinking about his lips on hers and what they'd feel like roaming other places on her body— more specifically, over the tattoos on her skin that she always found him staring at from time to time. She hated that he was charming and pretty and smart, and she hated that he gave a shit about her.

That's why her throat burned like acid when she lied. "Yes. That's what I want."

And for the sake of professionalism, he was inclined to believe her, even though deep down his heart knew that she was lying to him. "Alright then. Thank you for the donuts."

She smiled, trying not to shake as she held her donut up in the air. "Anytime, Professor."

Then she took a bite and walked to her seat, the two of them eating in silence while they waited for class to start

***

The next two weeks went by seemingly slower and slower by the second. If it were a normal situation, Spencer and Y/N going back to their normal student-teacher routine would have been a good thing. And in a way, it most certainly was. However, they both felt plagued by their distance in a way that hadn't been so daunting in a long time.

Almost every day the girls behind Y/N would continue talking about their professor (quieter this time, though still loud enough that she could hear for herself). And every time they did, her thoughts inevitably dragged back to his lips on hers, soft and hard all at the same time, a feeling she knew she'd never be able to experience again. And then she'd glance up at him, seeing him concentrate as he graded papers or read a book, and her insides would burn once more, a reminder of everything she couldn't have.

Likewise, Spencer would be lecturing, glance over at Y/N by happenstance, and that low simmer returned to his veins, begging him to turn back now or re-enter the dark cloud of desire that threatened to ruin his career. He was thankfully able to recover quickly, though not without trying to quell the heat that flooded through his body at the remembrance of her kisses.

Each day was like a ticking time bomb. They waited until the semester was over— hopefully they wouldn't have to see each other and all could have been forgotten. But the days didn't want to fly. They wanted to ride on the back of a snail, just slugging along until it was almost painful to experience.

Even still, Spencer and Y/N went about their days until the semester was one week away from finishing.

It was Monday, class was just about to end, and then he called her over while everyone was chatting amongst themselves.

To say she was nervous was an understatement. Nonetheless, she made her way to his desk with as much normalcy as possible, and the closer she got to him, the warmer she got. It was exhausting, really.

"What's up?" she asked blankly.

"I just wanted to... congratulate you on your work. Truthfully, you've exceeded just about everyone else in terms of quiz and test scores, your work ethic is above average from what I've seen in most students... You're smart,, and you know the material really well. And... A colleague of mine and I are attending a seminar on profiling in New York, and I think you should come with. Present your final essay to the group."

Y/N blinked a few times. "Wait... You're serious?"

"Mhm. I've showed your work to my colleagues and they're all impressed by you. I'm... not exactly sure what your plans for your future are, but I really think you have something special here. And if... If it's not something that interests you, at least consider coming to the seminar anyway. Regardless, your work is exceptional and I think you should be proud of it. I... I know I am..."

The bell rang then, and everyone filtered out as Y/N stood there awkwardly, thinking everything over.

"I don't need an answer right away, but the seminar is on Saturday, so any time before then would be great. Think about it?"

She looked around to make sure no one was around before speaking, her throat tight. "You're not... just saying this because of... what we did? I mean, you really think I'm... I'm good enough to do this?"

Spencer's eyes softened, and against his better judgement, he reached a hand out to touch her shoulder. "I really do. I wasn't lying, you're exceptionally smart and you really could have a future in the FBI, not even as a profiler if you don't want to. But as always, it's your decision. All I'm asking is that you take some time to think about it. Is that okay?"

Y/N always knew that despite the attraction they had to each other, Spencer was a professional first, and he always did encourage her in her studies. She knew he saw something in her, something bright and worth teaching, worth growing, and in that moment, that's what his eyes conveyed. He truly believed in her, not because—or even in spite—of the forbidden moments and feelings they shared, but in addition to them. If anything their feelings were considered the addition here. Because while, yes, their bodies were buzzing at proximity to one another, their heads and their hearts were more connected in that moment than anything, with sheer understanding and care and belief for one another that extended past physical attraction.

Y/N smiled, nodding. "Okay. But I don't need to think about it. I'll go."

"Are you sure? You really don't have to say yes if you don't wa—"

"Yes. I'm sure. A—And thank you, Sp—ah, Professor. I... Thank you." She laughed a little, possibly the most flushed she'd ever been around him, and it made him smile

"Of course."

***

One thing they didn't really put into consideration was the fact that the semester was now over.

It was Saturday, the morning of the seminar, and Y/N was scheduled to fly with Spencer and his colleague, Doctor Tara Lewis, to New York City. Currently, Dr. Lewis was asleep, on the other side of the jet, and Y/N and Spencer were left awake, sitting across from each other and completely buzzing with energy.

You could see why this might have been a problem they hadn't considered.

Y/N wasn't technically his student anymore, and they'd became well aware of the fact after she showed up at the BAU, where she met the rest of Spencer's co-workers and friends. His family, from all she'd heard. And there was a conversation she couldn't help but overhear after they were soon set to leave.

"Now I know why you really brought her along." The voice belonged to Luke Alvez. She was sure of it— his voice was hard to forget. Especially when it was laced with suggestion.

"What do you mean?" Spencer asked.

As cute as his cluelessness was, Y/N couldn't help the bubbles of nerves that erupted throughout her body like a torpedo shooting through water.

"You couldn't be more obvious if you tried, man. Sure, she's smart, and we all know it. But if what you've told us is true, she's also Mystery Motorcycle Mama."

"Wha—How do you know that?" Spencer exclaimed, obviously a little worried. Y/N couldn't say she blamed him.

"Oh, come on, a woman looking like that shows up, you expect me not to believe she's the one you made out with on the street? It wasn't hard to figure out."

The fact that he'd even told someone about that made her nerves rise. She'd wanted to talk to her mom about it for weeks but thought it might have caused trouble, too scared to even think about it.

Luke quelled some of the nervous tension though, when he said, "Don't worry about it, first of all, no one is going to say anything. Okay, and secondly, technically she's not your student anymore... What's stopping you?"

"W— She's a student, first of all, and... I don't know, we've finally gotten back to normal, I don't... I don't want to jeopardize that, especially now that we're going on this... trip together..."

This trip together... Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek, suddenly feeling a little warmer and a whole lot more anxious. It wasn't bad, though, more thoughtful. If anything she was interested to see how he'd react around her now that their professional relationship had somewhat come to a halt.

And now they were staring at each other on the jet. Y/N's fingers tapped gently against the table while Spencer's knee bounced rapidly. They were only twenty minutes out, and since they were on the jet it wouldn't be a long flight. But once again, time wouldn't fly. The only difference was, now there was nothing really standing in their path aside from the obvious taboo of it all. People always heard about teachers that got with former students, and it was always so scandalous.

And while it was obvious that they wouldn't be able to publicly say they were 'together', there was something like a barrier between them that had been shattered, or at least see-through in a way that it hadn't been before. It was a little easier to breathe, even, though they still somehow managed to take each others' breath away. It was always just a look, a little smile in the other person's direction, and all ability to function was gone.

The fact that they were still so captivated by each other, even through all the awkwardness and worry, was something that gave them hope. Hope that once this was all over and there was absolutely nothing stopping them from being together, they could still find their way back, and be just as connected to and enchanted by each other as they'd always been.

But for now, at least, they still had this seminar, something he'd only invited her to because of her academic achievements. And because of that, whatever happened between them had to be strictly professional

As if they hadn't already spent almost an entire semester repressing their feelings and only visiting each other in dreams.

***

The group spent the majority of the day getting a tour of the campus they were visiting. Their actual presentations wouldn't start until 7pm, where they'd speak in an auditorium that very much reminded Spencer of his own classroom.

After lunch, some more touring, and then dinner, the three of them found themselves back at their rooms, going over the material. Of course, Tara and Spencer were naturals since they'd both done a handful of teaching, but Y/N was nervous. She'd never given a big presentation like this before, even if it was only just reading sections of her essay that coincided with what Tara and Spencer were talking about.

"It's dumb," she said, slamming her papers on Tara's bed. "I shouldn't be this nervous about reading in front of people, especially since I'm such a goddamned delight in regular conversation."

Tara laughed. "You'll be great, I promise. You've read through it a million times, and even if you don't have it memorized, it'll be right there for you if you need it."

"I... I know." She started pacing a little, trying to even out her breathing. "But I... I've never done anything like this before and I... I don't want to mess up. I mean, Spencer believes in me, enough to have wanted me here, and I don't want... I don't want to let him down."

"You won't. Do... you know how I know?"

Y/N shook her head and sat down next to Tara, smoothing out the skirt she had on. She never wore skirts. She could have worn pants, but something pulled her to the short black fabric, and right now she didn't want to think about what that was. All she wanted to do was focus on calming her nerves.

"I know because... in the little amount of time that I've known you, I can tell how dedicated you are. How strong and smart you are. You know how to hold a room, and you know how to talk to people. And it helps that you know what you're talking about... You do know what you're talking about, right?"

Y/N laughed, genuinely laughed, and nodded.

"Then there you go. You'll be a natural."

The fact that one of Spencer's colleagues, whom he seemed to trust wholeheartedly, believed in her just as much, saw the same talent and dedication that he did, eased her troubled mind quite easily. She thought the worst was over, and to some degree it was.

She wasn't nervous anymore, worried that she'd disappoint Spencer, though when he knocked, came into her and Tara's room, and stopped, looking Y/N up and down with an enrapturement she hadn't seen on anyone's face before, her stomach dropped.

That look? It had been precisely why her mind begged her to put the skirt on instead of the pants.

The black velvet fabric was tight and ended mid-thigh, revealing half of a tattoo she had hidden— black and lavender flowers that matched the color of her blouse. It was a long-sleeve turtleneck that covered the tattoos on her arms and neck, but hugged her figure beautifully. Her hair was pinned up elegantly, loose strands framing the front of her face and big golden hoops dangling from her ears. Her face was completely void of the vivid makeup she always wore, replaced with a shiny, sheer lip gloss and simple eyeliner and mascara. The one thing that stood out, other than the tattoos visible on her thigh and her hands, was a golden eyebrow ring that glinted under the dim light of the hotel bedroom.

She was easily the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

And he had to stop himself from falling to his knees as he cleared his throat to talk. "Um, it's time to go."

The two of them were glad to have Tara as a buffer, because her "Alright, let's get going," while ushering them out the door made breathing a little easier.

So yes, Y/N certainly wasn't nervous about speaking in front of the crowd anymore. Rather, she was eager to see how focused Spencer would be during the presentation. It was hard enough for him to teach whenever she wore a particularly low-cut top in class—of course she noticed—so seeing her that closely, having her right there within his reach as they taught together, presented a jolt of excitement that gave her an extra boost of confidence.

Admittedly, though, the way she felt his eyes burn into her every cell made it extremely hard to concentrate on anything.

Nonetheless, Y/N, Spencer, and Tara eventually found themselves standing in front of maybe fifty people, students and administrators alike. Y/N swallowed hard, trying to push down any nerves that arose just then, but a soft hand at her lower back centered her.

"You're going to be great," Spencer whispered in her ear, his thumb gently stroking her back. She took a deep breath and nodded, feeling... thankful, in more ways than one.

The actual presentation itself was a breeze. With one encouraging nod from both Spencer and Tara, Y/N stood at one of the podiums and read off sections of her essay with clarity and confidence. Even though it was only a few paragraphs at a time, few and far in between when coupled with Spencer and Tara's detailed, more experienced presentations, Y/N was immensely proud of herself.

She felt like she belonged there. Not like in school, where everybody judged her because she was a loner. Here she didn't stand out, at least not in a jarring or negative way.

And Spencer could see all of it. As she stood there, speaking to the crowd, he took in her confidence, basking in it like it was the sun. Like she was the sun.

They took questions for a few minutes, and Y/N was obviously a little rattled, not expecting to get any questions of her own. But she answered each one with grace, practically beaming with pride and accomplishment.

***

Under the dim streetlights and with glittering snow behind her, she looked absolutely angelic.

Y/N and Spencer offered to wait outside while Tar talked with some of the administrators about coming back sometime in the Spring. But chances are, Y/N wouldn't be there, so Spencer wasn't even sure that he cared to come back. At least not right then, watching her pace around happily in the snow, her smile as wide and as radiant as he'd ever seen it.

"That was... I can't believe I did that!" She was in complete awe, and it reminded him of the day he hopped off her motorcycle and went on a similar tangent. The feeling of a rush, of pure, unadulterated joy... "I mean, I can because you believed in me, and I know it's probably kind of dumb to be this excited about a presentation, but like... I did it! I was..."

"You were a natural," Spencer mused, feeling his whole body warm at the sight of her smiling at him.

She stepped closer and closer, nodding. "I felt incredible."

"You are incredible..."

Once again they found themselves on the sidewalk, completely unbothered and so taken with each other it was hard to breathe.

And then she stepped forward and kissed him, much like he'd kissed her. Their lips melded like they'd never left in the first place, and that familiarity between them added fuel to an already significant flame.

Y/N threaded her fingers through his hair and reveled in his reciprocation as his tongue gently opened her mouth further. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her as tightly to him as he possibly could. And when she melted into him, giving herself over to him completely, he finally felt peace. Right then there was no worry, no awkwardness or burning tension that ate at him until he wasn't sure he could contain himself anymore... He simply just... was. He provided her with warmth and comfort, and in turn she provided him with a feeling of excitement... Of adventure and genuine fun and joy.

He never wanted to let her go.

While there wasn't a truck full of teenagers to break them out of their spell with whooping and hollering, there was a one Doctor Tara Lewis who cleared her throat.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said, highly amused. Meanwhile Spencer and Y/N split apart, refusing to look at her. "You ready to go?"

"Uh huh," Y/N said, at the same time Spencer said, "Yep."

Tara laughed, patting both of them on the shoulder as she walked in front of them.

Normally, they would have stayed apart from now on, but the only person they knew who could expose them was already there, and she clearly had no intentions of saying anything to hurt them.

So, Spencer reached out for Y/N's tattooed hand, and she took it gladly, staying close to him as they walked the two blocks to their hotel.

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enthusiasticharry · 3 years

Text

Swan Lake

summary: you've recently audition to be the White Swan in the Royal Ballet’s next production, only to learn that the new choreographer, Harry, will make this experience a lot more thrilling.

author’s note: hiya! sorry the has taken so long but I've been busy with classes and only just had time to sit down and write this. this has been an idea of mine since i first saw harry’s snl promo when he was in the tutu and i'm glad i can finally share it!

word count: 10.6k words of smut, fluff and me trying to sound like i have a clue what i’m on about whilst describing ballet moves (i'm no ballerina, just a pre-warning)

masterlist | asks

Even from being a small child, it had been your dream to become a dancer. You had originally gotten into dancing when you were very little, watching the different dancing programmes on the TV. You can remember like it was yesterday, the day you first watched the Royal Ballets performance of Swan Lake. You were around six, and you remember your mother flicking through the TV guide and seeing it and deciding to put it on, much to your detest at the start. But, you found yourself mesmerised as you watched the dancers flitter across the screen with such elegance and grace that you knew straight away that in the future you wanted to embody. It wasn’t the easiest occupation to get into, and it was very draining upon your body. But you loved it, and you were always going to — until you physically couldn’t anymore.

“Have you heard about the new choreographer?” Ethel, your friend asks as you walk towards the academy. You shake your head, “Apparently he’s very fit.”

“But he’s a choreographer.” You curl your nose up, “No choreographers are ever fit. They’re all old and hate the world.”

Ethel shakes her head, “This one is. He’s not too older than us either, but apparently he’s one of best Ballerino’s to ever walk out of the Royal Ballet School.”

“That’s a bold statement.” You say, pulling your bag tighter on your shoulder, “What is he choreographing?”

“The solos, I think.” Ethel adds, holding the door open as you both walk through, “He’s taking over Vernon.”

“Thank god.” You sigh, letting the door close behind you, “He was a horrible man.”

“He was.” Ethel laughs, “At least he’s someone new. We haven’t had a new choreographer in a year.”

A year ago, you and Ethel had graduated from the Royal Ballet school in London and you immediately joined the Royal Ballet. After auditions upon auditions you both had made it to the shortlist and then even made it through to the corps de ballet and were preparing for the audition for Swan Lake. You were positive that you wouldn’t get in, but you were also positive that you wouldn’t get into the school, never mind to the actual Royal Ballet.

Even though you felt like you had made it in life, you certainly hadn’t just yet. Today, you were auditioning to dance as White Swan. It was the next step into completing your dream completely. You were nervous to say the least, and you don’t think you’ve ever practiced something so much in your life.

“Are you ready for this?” Ethel asks as you walk into the back room, where there were quite a few other people who were obviously auditioning for other solos within the ballet.

You sigh, sitting down on the floor and starting to tie your pointe shoes, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You’ll smash it.” She smiles.

“I certainly hoped so.”

You were third to go, which wasn’t too bad. You certainly didn’t want to go first but you didn’t want to go last either. You were nervous, but you felt as though you dealt with it well and floated across the dance floor. You hated to say it, but you did find yourself being distracted quite a bit by the new man in the room, sat at the end of the table with a notebook and pen, watching intently as you dance and making certain notes. None of the choreographers made any hints that you were doing anything good, or not so good for that matter.

“Thank you.” The man said, his voice as soft as silk, “We’ll get to you shortly.”

A week later you were making your way to the notice board, where the solo and cast list were being posted. Ethel was in a rehearsal, so she wasn’t able to come with you and you found yourself being even more nervous due to being on your own.

You hung back and watched as other people rushed towards the list. You had just finished a pointe class, and your muscles were aching and you didn’t feel quite like making a huge scene trying to see the list. You watched as some people had very happy faces, and other had quite disappointed ones.

The group had dispersed quite a while ago, but you still found yourself stood in the corner. You had even started to pretend to scroll through your phone to distract yourself from actually going up to look at what it says on the sheet.

“I don’t think you can see the list from back here.”

You eyes flick up to the voice that startled you from your scroll. The man, who you had since the audition had learnt was called Harry Styles, stood across from you with one corner of his lips curled up.

“I was, uh.” You tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I was psyching myself up to look.”

“I’d go look if I was you.”

You nod your head and walk up the sheet, flicking your eyes down until your saw ‘White Swan’. What surprised you even more was the sight of your name in the column next to it. You eyes widen and you turn to look at Harry, who’s stood leant against the wall next to you. He smiles at you, nodding your head as you look at him with a confused look upon your face.

“Me?”

“Yes.” He nods, “You.”

“I got it?” You’re in complete shock, “Me?”

“You did. You earned it. You have one of the best form’s I’ve ever seen in my life. It was an unanimous decision, and you were the certain choice.”

“Wow.” You smile, “Thank you.”

“It’s really no problem.” You watch as he turns slightly to walk away, “Don’t let us down, though.”

You really hoped you wouldn’t. You hadn’t worked harder for something in your entire life, and he was mistaken if he thought it would be the same for this. It was your dream, plain and simple. It was hard to have a dream that lasted only the first thirty years or so of your life. If you were only going to get a limited amount of time to do this, you were going to make the most of it and you had made your first step by doing this.

“I won’t.” You nod your head, “I promise.”

“Good.” And with that, he’s gone.

The first day of rehearsals came quicker than you expected, but you had spent every minute of every day thinking about this day. Ethel had landed a role in the corps de ballet which she was proud of, and you were proud of her for doing so too. It meant that you both were going to be in the performance and go to all the main rehearsals for the group dances. Ethel wouldn’t have to come to the solo rehearsals, which was understandable, but at least you still had the time together now.

“Have I told you how much I really love that leotard?” She says as you shrug your coat off, revealing your black leotard which you’ve paired with a blush pink jumper that falls off your shoulder to match your pointe shoes.

“It’s just a simple black leotard.” You shrug, “It’s nothing special. I think I got it on sale.”

“You style it well, though.”

You sit on the bench and lift your feet up, slipping your toes into your pointe shoes. They weren’t comfortable, that’s a given, but you were used to it by now. You went to your first ballet class at seven years old, and you were now twenty-three. Sixteen years of wearing these shoes frequently meant that your feet had gotten very used to feeling.

“Thank you, Ethel.” You smile, grabbing your water bottle and following her as she walks out of the door and towards the training room.

“Do you think Harry will be here?” She asks, tucking some of her hair behind her ear.

You shrug, “I don’t know. Possibly. He does solos so he isn’t technically required to be here.”

“He does. It’s the first rehearsal, though. He may want to at least show his face to the rest of us.”

You laugh, “You just want to see his face, Ethel.”

“Maybe I do.” She doesn’t even hide the blush on her cheeks.

In the training room, groups of dancers stand together either stretching or talking. It’s important to stretch and warm up before anything you do, so you and Ethel find a spare spot by the bar and start to stretch your muscles. You stretch every morning quite intensely, warming your muscles up for the day just because you know that you won’t get a lot of time to do so when you arrive at rehearsals and they even ask you to do so before you come so it works better. It’s nice to just refresh your muscles when you arrive, though.

“Can I have everyone’s attention?” Holland, the main choreographer says as her and a few other people walk into the room, “Welcome all to this years production of Swan Lake.”

A chorus of claps circle around the room, smiles all around as everyone congratulates each other on getting a part. It was very hard to get into productions like these, so you weren’t surprised that you were around the best of the best.

“I’m Holland, I’m pretty sure all of you know me but I’d like to introduce you all to the rest of the team.” She motions to the people behind her, “Isabella is in charge of Pas de deux this year and Harry is in charge of Solo’s, more specifically the Black and White swan’s solos.”

You immediately feel your heats cheek up, knowing that you and whoever is playing the Black swan will be spending time with him. You couldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t a handsome man, because he certainly was, but he was your choreographer and he spoke to you in a tone the other day that you couldn’t quite pinpoint but you knew that you weren’t too keen of.

“Today we’re taking it easy, and just introducing some of the group dances. Can both the White and Black swans see Harry, please?”

You freeze with your eyes upon the floor, not wanting to look up.

“That’s you.” Ethel nudges your shoulders.

You nod and stand up, walking towards the corner of the room where Harry stands as well as another girl who you know is called Frances, from being in a few of your classes during school. You smile as you walk over, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Behind you, everyones already stood and following what Holland is saying.

“Hope you don’t mind.” He smiles, “But I just want to discuss some things with the two of you before proper rehearsals start.”

You both follow him out of the large training room into one of the smaller practice rooms that people can you use whenever they want. You find yourself lagging behind as you walk, the feeling of nerves bubbling within you. You have had one solo before in your life, but it certainly wasn’t as important as this one, and you felt yourself getting more and more worried with every second.

“It’s important that the two of you know that I’m your main choreographer, but also that you’re in the group sessions when they’re on.” You both nod, “There aren’t a lot, because even in the group dances you have a lot of solos so you are with me a lot more than in there.”

“That’s why we got these parts though, right?” Frances says, a smile across her lips that you can just tell isn’t a sweet one.

“Not really.” He tilts his head to the side, “You got these parts because we think that you’re able to make the role yours and work hard for it. We can take it away just as easy as we’ve given them you.”

You nod your head and Frances does too, but there’s a little huff that escapes her lips as she does so.

“Our rehearsals start tomorrow, with the White swan, and they’re all going to be in this room.” You nod, but you don’t take any notice of what Fran does, but you guess she nods too, “Just so you know, I don’t appreciate lateness or laziness whilst in the rehearsal.”

“Understood.” You smile, tucking a piece of your hair behind your head.

“Good.” He nods, “You can both return to the main group.”

The next day you find yourself walking into the studio ten minutes before the rehearsal is set to start. The door is open when you walk in, but no one is in which your thankful for. You place your bag down in the corner and start to put your pointe shoes on.

“Morning.” You jump out of your skin at the sound of Harry’s voice walking into the room, “Didn’t mean to make jump.”

“It’s okay.” You chuckle, “I was in my own world and wasn’t paying attention.

He smiles and drops his bag in the corner next to yours. He walks closer to where you’re stood and leans against the bar.

“Have you stretched?” He asks, shrugging off his hoodie. You try not to stare at his physique, but it’s hard not to. Especially when you notice the tattoos that you can see across his arms and his check and stomach underneath the white wife-beater he had on. He also had one some joggers, but you knew it wouldn’t make the best first impression if you continued to stare at him.

“Before I left.” You say, “Not since I got here.”

“We can stretch together.” He says, “Do you use the bar.”

You nod and stand up, smoothing down the wispy bits of your hair that had escaped your bun. You pull your jumper up on your shoulder also, due to the material slipping off everyone once in a while. Your eyes drift to watch as he starts to stretch, using the bar to stretch his peculiarly long limbs. Average male ballet dancers that you’d met in your life hadn’t been as tall as he was, but he had a sort of elegance to him even when he was only stretching that his long limbs only extenuated.

“Have you been dancing long?” You certainly hadn’t expected him to be making small talk with you, but here he was.

You nod, “Since I was seven. Have you?”

“I was ten.” He says and your eyes widen, “I was quite late, to be honest.”

That was quite late, you had to agree with him. Most ballet dancers that you met within your life started even earlier than you, and a lot of them were surprised that you’d started so late but were so successful. Talent comes in any shape or form, and even though he did start quite late, if he was as talented as people made him out to be, then you weren’t surprised that he was as successful as he was starting quite late.

“Did you dance before then?”

“I did.” He nods, “I did tap for a few years before I decided that it wasn’t for me, and then I started ballet lessons.”

You smile and continue to stretch, lifting your leg up to the bar to stretch as far as you can. You can feel your muscles starting to relax as you do so, and you know you’re warmed up.

“Are you ready?” You nod and make your way to stand behind him, at the side slightly so you could see both yourself and Harry in the mirror. You were nervous, to say the least, but you had a slight suspicion that Harry was going to try and make you feel as comfortable as possible.

“We’re going to take it easy.” He says, “Well, as easy as it can be with this show.”

You chuckle and watch as he starts to teach you your solo. You wondered how many times he’d watched the previous performances of the ballet to know the solo as well as he did. You got through the first quarter of the dance or so. It was very quick, and it was basically going through al of the steps and seeing where you needed to focus your practice.

By the end of the rehearsal, you were sweating and you knew that you didn’t look the best just from looking at yourself in the mirror. The dance was one of the hardest you’ve ever done in your life but you knew that was how it was going to be. It was intense, and Harry was certainly right when he said that he knew you’d be able to do it but you needed to put in the hard work. One of the hardest things you found yourself having to do was stopping yourself from getting distracted at the sight of him.

Every time he moved, the muscles within his arms contracted. You didn’t want to stare at him, but you physically couldn’t stop yourself. You wondered if he could tell, or if he was staring at you. More than once during the rehearsal your jumper slipped from your shoulder, dangerously close to revealing your chest and you swear that you saw his eyes drifting at some points but you would never say anything.

“You’ve done well.” He nods, taking a quite a large gulp of water from his bottle, “I knew there was a reason why we’d chosen you, and that certainly was it”

“There are plenty of other dancers that will have been just as good, maybe even better, I’m sure.” You say, placing your hands upon your hips as you try to catch your breath from the jeté’s you had just been doing.

He chuckles, walking over to you and placing his hand on your shoulder, “Have a little more faith in yourself. Not many people will be able to do what you’ve just done.”

You hate to say it, but you do feel fuzzy inside at his words. Flutters fill your belly and you can feel your cheeks heat up. He can see it as well, you’re absolutely sure of it and you nearly faint. The feeling of his fingers upon your skin leaves it heated for quite a while, long after he’d taken his hand off, and way after you’d left the room.

He was your new choreographer, but you couldn’t help but feel as this was the start of something else.

You had been in the practice room for an hour or so.

The group rehearsal had finished an hour ago, and you had planned to go into a practice room to spend a little extra time going over the new moves that Harry had added a day ago at their second rehearsal. The new steps weren’t too bad, but the order they fell in you just couldn’t pick up. You practiced it over and over again but you still couldn’t get it right. You found yourself becoming more and more annoyed with yourself that you couldn’t do it.

You started to do it again, starting with the jeté before moving to the pirouette but you found yourself loosing your balance yet again.

“You need to keep your core straight.”

You jump out of your skin, placing your hand upon your chest as you turn to look at the culprit. It’s Harry, and you aren’t surprised to say the least. He has a tendency of jumping out at you when you least expect it.

“You should wear a bell.” You say, standing up and and walking towards his body, which is leant against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He was wearing actual trousers today, and you were wondering if that’s why he wasn’t in the group rehearsal earlier.

“I’ll announce myself next time, I promise.” He laughs, walking towards you. His shoes tap upon the floor as he moves towards you, “Your movements aren’t flowing because your core isn’t strong, and you’re letting your body go dizzy.”

He walks towards you, holding his hands out before retracting them.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” He asks, and you nod, allowing his hands to fall one upon your back and the other upon your stomach. He pushes your stomach in, straightening your back as he does so. You find yourself struggling to breath slightly, but once you do you catch up quickly, “Try again like this.”

“Okay.”

You stay as upright as you can, keeping your core straight as you move. Somehow, you manage to do the sequence without falling over. You sigh in relief and drop down to the floor once you’ve done it. He stands and nods his head, watching as you take a sip of your water.

“See.” He nods his head, “I knew you could do it.”

“Thank you.” You smile, “I knew I could too, I think I was just becoming lazy because I’m tired.”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Go home, take a break.” You start to unfasten your pointe shoes, sighing in relief as your toes separate after being in the shoes for way too long, “How long have you been in here?”

“An hour or so.” You shake your head, “I just wanted to get it right.”

“I bet it was right before.” He says, opening the door for you to slip through once you’ve put your proper shoes on and gathered your things, “Your body is just tired, that’s why your form was off. You usually have a great core.”

He had been looking at your. . . core? You felt your cheeks heat up, and you tired your hardest to not to let him see it but it was quite hard under the spotlights of the hallway.

“Thank you, but it really wasn’t. That was the first time I’ve done it properly.”

He turns to you with a grin, “We’ll just to have to agree to disagree, won’t we?”

You can’t stop the blush that rises upon your cheeks at his words, but more so at his grin. It’s cheeky and boyish and sort of flirty. He couldn’t have been flirting with you, but a part of you prayed that he was.

“Have a good night.” He smiles at you, “Sleep and don’t worry about the dance.”

“I’ll try.”

“One. . . two. . . three. . . four—”

His counting has been ringing through your ears since your arrived at the rehearsal an hour ago. You couldn’t tell whether there was something wrong with him, or whether you had done something wrong for him to be in such a mood.

You had managed to ignore the fact that he completely ignored you once you’d walked in, and focused more on showing him that since you last saw him, you had mastered the sequence you were struggling with completely.

Everyone has bad days, you knew that, but it’s hard to learn a dance when your teacher is so stoic that you can’t tell whether or not you’re doing the moves right. His eyebrows have been furrowed since you walked through the door, and the clicks of his fingers were so loud that you can’t help but wonder whether or not they have blistered.

You manage to perform the sequence of steps, from start to about half way which you’ve managed to learn in the two weeks that you’ve been learning the steps. It’s nice to know that you’re able to do it, no matter how much you’ve struggled and that it’s been hard work, you’ve done it.

“We’re moving onto the pirouettes next.” He says, standing with his hands upon his hips as he does so. The harsh look upon his face doesn’t leave, and you truly wonder what had happened for him to be this way with you.

It’s making you feel as though every step you make isn’t right, when you know in fact that it is.

“The what?” You are struggling to catch your breath, after non-stop dancing for an hour can’t believe that he wants to do the pirouettes with you.

“Pirouettes.” He stands facing you, instead of you looking at him through the mirror and you wonder what you’re going to do, “Do as many as you can until the music drops.”

You weren’t quite sure what he was asking of you. You furrow your eyebrows, but Harry just stares at you. He looks at you as if to say why aren’t you doing it yet, so you decide you’re better off just starting the pirouettes.

You start, lifting your body into fourth position with both legs straight. You fix your eyes onto a spot where the mirrors meet. After taking a breath, you bend both legs into a deep pilé, concentrating on sinking your heels into the wooden floor so you could push into the spin. You focus your core, keeping it tight. You spring to a retiré position, before relevé to a full pointe with your back foot to your front leg. You hold your body in the position spin, flicking your head quickly so that you can focus yet again on the gap in the mirror. Once you’ve completed one, you continue to go round and round, trying to ignore the aching within your bones and the throbbing within your head.

You manage eight before you loose your balance and drop to the ground, immediately sitting with your head in between your legs.

“Have a break, and then we’ll start again.”

You sigh and shake your head, “I can’t do it.”

“What do you mean?” Harry says, furrowing his eyebrows, “Of course you can.”

“I can’t do it.”

“You’ve done eight.” He shrugs, “You can do more.”

“I’ll be able to.” You say, “But I can’t do them now.”

If you honest, you hadn’t woken up feeling the best this morning. You often get headaches that throughout the course of the day transition into migraines. You had felt it coming on at the start of the day, and you knew with how much you had to do you couldn’t pull out of the rehearsal but at this point you were seriously considering it. The pirouettes seriously hadn’t helped with the throbbing within your head and you had started to feel quite nauseous.

“If you have that attitude then you certainly won’t be able to, and it’s probably best that you leave.”

You’re completely taken aback, unable to believe that the man who has been nothing but nice to you throughout this whole thing had just said something so horrid to you. You were mortified and if you hadn’t felt sick before, you certainly did now.

“You know what.” You stand up, “I think that’s a good idea.”

You leave the room and don’t look back.

The next rehearsal, thankfully, was a group one. You and Ethel had made your way to the training room bright and early, ready for what the day was going to hold. You hadn’t told Ethel about what happened earlier in the week with Harry. It would have been nice to talk to someone about it but you knew that you shouldn’t, so you didn’t. It was, however, the thing that fluttered around in your brain on a loop. Doing everyday mundane things you found yourself distracted. Instead of being upset or angry anymore, you were concerned, and you just hoped that he was okay mainly.

The two of you had stretched yourselves pretty quickly, leaving you stood in the right corner of the room waiting for it to start. You couldn’t help but wonder whether or not Harry was going to be in the rehearsal today. He normally was, but after the last one, you had no idea what was going to happen. A part of you wished to see him, and the other part of you didn’t. It was as though you had a devil and angel on your shoulder, bickering between the options of whether or not you wanted to see his face.

In the back of your mind you knew that this man was your choreographer. You knew that traditionally that you shouldn’t be feeling this way about him, since he had the same role as a teacher would, but you really couldn’t help it. It didn’t help that he was one of the prettiest people you had ever seen in your life — and one of the nicest apart from the last time you saw him — but the was besides the point. You were an adult, and you were allowed to have these feelings, even though you were positively sure that they aren’t reciprocated.

Both Holland and Isabella walk into the room, but there is no sign of Harry. You try to ignore the disappointment that sits in the pit of your stomach but you can’t.

You should be angry at the man, livid even, that he said such a thing to you but you really weren’t. That was your own fault, but that didn’t mean that all would be forgotten from that day. You were at least expecting an apology the next time you saw him.

“Everyone get into positions for the start of the second half.” Holland calls and everyone moves from their groups into positions.

You weren’t on the stage at the start, so you move to the corner of the room by the door and watch everyone else. You try your hardest not to let your mind wander, but you can’t help it. Your thumb is running back and forth over your bottom lip, furrowing your eyebrows as you did so.

“If you furrow your eyebrows anymore your face is going to stay like that.”

You don’t even jump at the sound of his voice. Your heart does start to beat a little faster, since your certainly weren’t expecting him to be so close to you, but you wouldn’t tell anybody that.

“Was starting to think you just hated me.”

“Could never hate you.” He shakes his head, “You’re too good of a dancer for me to ever hate you.”

You have to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him. You manage to, but before either one of you could say anything else, you see your cue and you’re out on the floor.

You try to ignore his stare as you move around the room, remembering the choreography you had learnt whilst also trying to be as elegant and strong as you physically could be. You remembered to keep your core straight, and if you weren’t mistaken by the few times you looked over at him, Harry’s eyes hadn’t left you.

You were unsure whether it was something your were flattered about, or whether you were slightly concerned about it. You weren’t too concerned, but you found yourself wondering why he was doing this. The last time he saw you he told you to leave, and now he couldn’t get his eyes off of you.

Once the dance had finished, and you had your lips around your water bottle that you were taking a sip from, you swear you saw Harry’s head flick towards the door. You furrow your eyebrows and lift you finger up, pointing at yourself as if to ask whether he was looking at you.

He nods his head and walks out of the door, leaving you confused but walking towards him and consequently out of the room. You bite the lid of your bottle as you do so. You knew exactly where he was, and the second you walked into the room you saw him stood in the middle of it with an almost defeated look upon his face.

“I’m sorry.”

You swear your heart almost bursts out of your chest.

You nod your head, “Okay.”

“I was a dick.” You nod again, “And you didn’t deserve it at all. I shouldn’t have asked you to leave and I should’ve asked if you were okay the second you dropped to the floor. I’m sorry, I really am.”

“I accept your apology, I do.” He seems to sigh with relief, “But! You have to be extra nice to me next rehearsal. If I want a break, I want a break.”

He chuckles, “You can have as many breaks as you like.”

“Good.”

To say rehearsals have been different since Harry apologised to you would be an understatement. You found yourself enjoying them, no matter how hard you had to work, and you looked forward to them in your week.

You believe it might have been because of the change in relationship between the two of you. It was much nicer, and also a little flirtier. You had noticed Harry coming over to help you by touching you more, he was forever smirking and winking at you and some of the things he said completely turned you to putty in his arms.

You’d like to think he’d noticed, but you really couldn’t be sure.

“Dress rehearsals start next week.” He says as you take a break, sipping on some water whilst holding a banana in your other hand, “Are you nervous?”

You shrug, “A little bit. I know I’ve worked hard but there are still a lot of things that could go wrong.”

“I disagree.” You throw him a quizzical look, “I agree that you work hard because you’re one of the most hardworking people I’ve ever met. I don’t agree that a lot of things could go wrong because that just isn’t true — one thing could.”

You knew what he was talking about.

You drop back so you’re laid on the group, “The pirouettes.”

“The pirouettes.” He nods and stands up, so you sit up, “I know you can do it, you just need to believe in yourself.”

You sigh, “Can you just do the pirouettes for me?”

“Yeah.” He laughs, “Like the audience wouldn’t notice you slipping off and a six-foot man taking your place to do some spins.”

“I’m sure they’d be highly entertained.”

“I’m sure we’d have thousands of complaints to deal with.”

You laugh and he joins in. You finish your banana and stand up, tucking some of the hair that had fallen out of your bun back before moving to the middle of the room.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to do it.”

“I do.” Harry nods, crossing his arms over his chest, “Focus on your spot and never take your eyes off it, remember your core and remember to bounce yourself. The higher bounce you get at the start, the more you’ll be able to spin.”

You’re unsure how it happened, but after listening to Harry’s words you manage to complete almost twenty pirouettes. The most that had taken place during the small amount of time in a performance had been thirty-two, and to say that you’d never done more than ten in your life before meant that you were pretty proud of yourself.

“See.” He says smugly, “I knew you could do it.”

You watch as he walks towards you, shoving this hand into the pocket of his jogging bottoms. You weren’t one to necessarily like people who are so in-your-face smug but there was something different about the way Harry said things. He didn’t say them maliciously, or to make himself feel better but to just tease you slightly. He was close to you, and you resisted the urge to let out a little squeak of nervousness.

“Are you going to start believing in yourself?”

“Hmm.” You ponder, “I might have to be reminded again, and again.”

It all happened quickly, but before you could process anything happening, Harry’s lips were on yours.

He kissed you. You felt his lips upon yours, his hand immediately reaching to rest upon her cheek. The nervous squeak you held in escaped your lips as he did so, but he masked it with him. You gripped the material of his wife-beater, bunching it up at his stomach as you pulled him towards you. Your lips parted once you’d felt his tongue dance upon your lips, allowing it to slip through them. You were shocked, but you never wanted it to end.

It did end though, like all good things do. He pulled away from you and you felt even more out of breath than if you had just performed your solo. You looked at him with wide eyes and lifted your fingers to run over your swollen lips,

“Did that remind you?”

Dress rehearsals had started, but all you could find yourself thinking about was Harry’s lips on yours.

You stood backstage at the Royal Opera House, looking at yourself within the mirror as you ran your hand over your costume. It was white, and completely gorgeous. The tutu fluttered out gems and sparkles fluttered along the bodice with a hugged your curves perfectly. You had the head piece on as well, but you hadn’t done your makeup. It was the first time you’d seen the costume upon your body, and you were in love with it.

“You proper look like the white swan now.” Ethel smiles, placing her hand upon your shoulder, squeezing slightly, “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you.” You turn to look at her, and the costume she had on and you gasp, “And look at you! Absolutely beautiful!”

The two of you giggle and walk towards the main stage where everyone was collected. You stood to the side with Ethel, even though she’s quickly scooped away by some of her friends. You stand and done move, going over the moves of your solo in your head just to make sure you knew what you were doing.

Holland calls you all to start soon. It wasn’t the first time that you’d ran the performance all the way through, but it was the first time that you’d done it in your costume.

You manage to make it through the first half of the performance without any malfunctions from yourself, but you can’t say the same for everyone else. It was around half way through the third section of dance or so when you noticed Harry sat on the front row, his eyes never leaving you as you dance around the stage. When your first section of solo dance came up, you saw Harry’s eyes furrowing as you danced. You couldn’t watch him throughout the entire thing, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he never looked away from you.

During the interval, you go backstage and make your way towards a bathroom. As you make your way closer, you try to find the fasten of your tutu so that you can quickly pull it off. What you hadn’t expected as you down the hall and towards the bathroom was to be pulled into one of the rooms you pass.

You squeal as you feel the hand around your arm, but once you’re in the room, you’re silenced by someone’s lips upon yours.

You can tell that it’s Harry immediately. You can tell not only from his lips upon yours, but also from his hand that he places upon your cheek. You feel the coolness of his ring, and the slight itch from his stubble, but you really aren’t complaining. You lift your hand to the back of his neck, slipping your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

His fingers run across your thighs, being light so that he doesn’t rip the thin material. After a minute or so, you pull away, turning your head so that his drops upon your shoulder whilst you catch you breath.”

“Harry?” He hums against your neck, placing a small kiss there, “I really need a wee.”

He laughs and stands up, pecking your lips once more. You smile into the kiss and it seems to only grow afterwards.

“Well you better go and have one.” He chuckles and you nod, “But I’ll only let you go if your promise me something.”

“What?”

“You’ll wait for me afterwards?”

“After what? My wee, because I have to back on stage after—”

“No.” He chuckles, “Not after you’ve had your wee, but after you’ve finished tonight. I want to take you somewhere.”

“Sounding very stalker-ish of you, Styles.” She furrows her eyebrows, “But I’ll wait for you.”

The second half, and your solo goes okay. You managed to do sixteen pirouettes but your brain was in overdrive, thinking of everywhere that Harry could be taking you. Once you all finished, you couldn’t help but rush to get changed and ready to leave. You hadn’t borough the nicest of clothes, only some jeans and a jumper since the air had started to get quite a lot cooler now that autumn had shown its face.

“You ready?” He asks once you’ve walked out of the theatre and find him stood by the wall next to the door.

You nod and follow him. The two of you don’t talk, but his hand does slip into yours as you walk. He’s very smooth in the way that he does it, slipping his hand into yours as you walked across the busy London road. Your cheeks heated as he did so, and you couldn’t help the small smile that planted across your lips.

You knew that you shouldn’t feel this way about someone who was like a teacher for you, and you knew at some point that the two of you would have to speak about what this even was but at this point you were just happy.

You certainly hadn’t expected to end up at a cinema, but here you were. Harry scanned the two tickets he already conveniently already had. The tickets were halfway up in the cinema, where you normally enjoyed sitting but you certainly had never told Harry this.

“If you wanted to see a movie with me, you should’ve just asked.” You whisper to Harry as you both sit down, “You didn’t have to basically kidnap me into a storage room and shove your tongue down my throat.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining about my tongue down your throat.” He says, and you can almost hear the smirk upon his lips, “Just watch, you’ll understand why I brought you here in a second.”

You did understand. The recording was from 2015, one that you hadn’t seem before which was surprising because you’re absolutely certain that you’d watched the majority of them. You wonder if this was one that you hadn’t been able to find before, to nitpick every single movement that the white swan made.

Harry’s hand sat tightly in yours as you watched, never moving throughout the entire performance.

Once it had finished, you found yourself sat in an Italian restaurant that was next to the cinema, the both of you having ordered pasta and having large glasses of red wine to wash it down.

“Why did you bring me to see that?”

Harry smiles, placing his glass down that he had just taken a sip from, “It’s my favourite performance, so far, of Swan Lake. I didn’t know whether you’d already seen it, and you’re probably fed up of it but I thought you needed to see it.”

You shake your head, “I hadn’t seen it.”

“You remind me of her.” He smiles, “Giovanna, who was the White Swan. She was a few years older than me, and I met her getting lost in the school.”

“You knew her?”

He nods, “We were best friends, for a few years, and she taught me everything I know about how to be the best ballerino I could be. I was there when she was got the part, and I used to watch her practice.”

“That’s how you know the solo so well.”

He nods, “She believed she couldn’t do it. I can’t count the amount of times she said that she couldn’t do it. She hardly slept because of it. They recorded that opening night, and it took me sitting her down and showing her that for her to believe that she could do it.”

He’s interrupted by the waitress coming with their pasta, which they smile in thanks at.

“Thank you.” He nods his head at the waitress, “I’m more involved with you as the White Swan, and I swore to never let anyone who I worked with whether it be on this production or not, feel like Giovanna did.”

“How could you tell?”

“You always look as though you’re battling with yourself within your head.” He says, “You need to know that when you’re on that stage, and it’ll be even more like this when you believe yourself, you are elegant and you look absolutely beautiful.”

If you weren’t in public, and if you didn’t have a mouthful of tomato pasta in your mouth, you probably would’ve cried at his words. You couldn’t believe how much this man actually cared about you and how you were doing.

“Are you still friends with her?”

“No.” He shakes his head, “She left a few years ago, didn’t tell me where she was going or why she was doing it. I haven’t heard from her since.”

You drop your head, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He shakes his head, “You’re the new swan in my life, and between the two of us, I much prefer you.”

“Do you think people are going to mind?” You ask, moving your pasta around on your plate, not daring to look up at him, “You’re like my teacher, and we don’t exactly have one of the more conventional relationships.”

“I don’t care.” He shakes his head, “And you shouldn’t either, swan.”

The day of the first performance was here, and you were absolutely dreading it.

“Ethel.” You shake your head, “I really can’t do this.”

“Oh shut up.” She places her hands upon your shoulders as you look at yourself in the mirror, sighing as you made sure your wispy pieces of your hair were down, “You’re going to be fine. You’re only worried about the pirouettes and you managed twenty-two yesterday.”

“It’s not thirty-two though.” You shake your head, “It isn’t good enough.”

Yesterday it was your last run through of the solo with Harry in the practice room. Even though the relationship between the two had shifted dramatically since their first rehearsal, and yesterday it almost felt as though you were back in with that Harry.

The flirty banter that the two had adopted wasn’t there, and you were both focused on getting it right. It was the first time that you had managed to do more than twenty pirouettes, which had been your best, but it was now twenty-two. You had sighed in relief and finished your solo dance with a smile upon your face.

“You’ll be fine.” Ethel smiles, “You’ve got nothing to worry about, you’ll go out there and smash it. I have to go and do my makeup, but I’ll see you during the interval — I promise.”

You nod, accept her hug and sigh yet again at yourself in the mirror. You hadn’t felt this nervous in a long time, not even when you auditioned for the ballet school, or even when you auditioned for the part of the white swan. In every other aspect of your life, you were confident. In your dancing, that’s when you found yourself spiralling in the most.

“Hey white swan.” You can’t help but smile at the sound of Harry’s voice behind you, your body immediately turning around to look at him.

You don’t want to seem shocked, but the sight of him all dressed up causes your heart to beat quickly within your chest. You hadn’t seen him dressed up in this way before, a blue button up upon his body, as well as yellow trousers and a grey jacket. His hair framed his face in such a way that you couldn’t help but press your thighs together. You very much liked Harry’s practice outfits that show off his strong body, but there was something else about seeing him dressed in such a way that you liked even more.

“Hi.” You laugh, standing up to wrap your arms around him. It’s an awkward hug, with the two of you trying to navigate your way around your tutu, “You look fancy.”

“And you look gorgeous.” He pulled away from you and leant back against the wall, whilst you leant against the chair you were just sat on, “Ethel saw me on the way in.”

You laugh, “What did she say?”

“That you’re spiralling again.” He laughs, “I thought we’d spoken about this.”

“I know.” You nod your head, “I’m just scared about the pir—”

“—If you dare say pirouettes!”

You laugh as he interrupts your words, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He shakes his head, “You know that you can do it, and I believe in you. You’re going to smash this and I’m going to be front row cheering your on.”

Without a single hesitation, you cast your eyes around the room in hopes to see nobody there, which there isn’t, and you throw your arms around his neck and place your lips upon his. He smiles into the kiss, and you do too, but you quickly pull away because you know that anybody could walk in at any moment.

Harry flutters his eyes over at the clock, “It’s time, white swan. I’ll be here afterwards.”

In your first performance of Swan Lake, you manage twenty-six pirouettes. It’s the most you’ve ever done, and once you’ve done it, you find yourself finishing the entire performance in higher spirits than when you started it.

Somehow, you were finishing the day of your first performance with your thighs wrapped around Harry’s waist as he presses you up against the door of your flat. He had offered to walk you home, and the flirty way the two of you had become accustomed to felt a change as you walked home. You felt as though there was a magnet pulling you together and the closer you got to your flat, the closer you felt towards each other.

You suspect that was why you were now pressed up against your door.

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” Harry murmurs against your lips, and you smile against them.

With him holding you up by your thighs, and with your half arsed directions, you both make your way towards your bedroom. Harry places you down upon your bed, his fingers grasping the jumper upon your skin. You pull away slightly and he pulls it above your head, exposing your chest to him. He leans down to press another kiss to your lips, moving down to your neck. He litters kisses down your cheeks, and your neck until he’s upon your chest. You hadn’t worn a bra with your jumper, so you’re completely exposed to him.

The next movement he makes is to wrap his lips around one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around one of your budding nipples, using his thumb to tweak the other. Your hips are involuntarily bucking towards his.

“Fuck, Harry.” You sigh, smiling down at his head as he kisses down your stomach until he reaches the band of your jogging bottoms.

He stops his movements and rests his head upon your stomach, “What do you want?”

“Want you to lick me.” He smiles at your words, and hooks his fingers into the band of your jogging bottoms, pulling them as well your underwear down your legs.

He placed a litter of kisses across the inside of your thighs, teasing you until you can help but lift your hips up to him.

“Are you this wet all for me, baby?” He questions, running his thumb across your clothed clit, “Got yourself all messy for me.”

“You have a way with words.” You grin, reaching forward to run your fingers through his hair, “And a way with your mouth.”

“You don’t need to flatter me anymore, I’m already in your bed.” He pecks your pubic bone, “But my ego really appreciates it.”

“Your narcissistic side is showing.”

“What did you expect?” He runs his fingers across your pubic bone, “You’re so fucking ready for me. All wet and ready for me to have a taste.”

He starts with small kitten licks that have you withering across your duvet, small whines leaving your lips. He wraps his lips around your clit, mixing between nibbling and licking.

You moan, lifting your back up off of the bed, “Can I use my fingers, baby?”

“Please.” You nod, watching as he lifting his fingers up to your mouth, pushing them through your parted lips so you could swivel your tongue around them, wetting them to make them easier for him to push into you. He pushes his index finger in, rhythmically moving it in and out whilst also licking and flicking your clit with his tongue. Each thing his does coaxes you closer and closer to your orgasm, the way he skilfully uses his tongue sending moans spilling out of your lips.

“Don’t stop!” Harry drops his hand to your stomach, pushing down so that you aren’t moving you hips as he brings you closer to your peak, “M’gonna come.”

“Come for me, baby.” He murmurs against you, flicking his tongue quickly.

You can feel your stomach tightening as he moves quickly, the feeling causing your toes to curl as he does so.

“Fuck.” He uses his fingers and his tongue to coax you through your orgasm.

You honestly couldn’t believe that you had waited this long to have him touch you. Moans spill out of your lips as you reach your high, the euphoric feeling spreading over your entire body.

Harry kisses your clit one last time, kissing up your stomach and around your breasts, up until he wrapped his lips around your nipple. He allowed you to recover and calm your breathing whilst he kissed up your body.

“Good?”

You hum, a small giggle escaping your lips, “Fucking amazing.”

“I’m glad your enjoyed it.” He laughed, leaning down to place a kiss to your lips.

Feeling as though you had recovered from your orgasm, you start to unbutton his trousers. He grins against your lips as you slip your hand beneath the band of his boxers, wrapping your fingers around his length.

“I want you to fuck me.” You whisper against his lips, the corners of yours curling up.

“Yeah.” He grins, “Have you got any condoms?”

You were glad at this point that you’d picked some up during your daily shop. Not that you had expected anything, but it was always good to be prepared.

“Yeah.” You nod, “In the bedside table.”

He stands up from the bed and unbuttons his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and he makes his way towards the drawer. You eyes never leave his body, watching as his ever muscle flexes. He opens the drawer and drops his hand in, and if you weren’t already flushed, you certainly would be from what he pulls out.

“What’s this?” He holds up the small vibrator that you had bought a few years ago to relive some of your tension every once in a while.

“God.” You drop back upon the bed, your head rested on the pillow as your bring your hand to your forehead, “Just something I use to relive some of the tension in me every once in a while.”

“The tension?” He raises his eyebrow, “When was the last time you used it?”

You shrug, “Ages ago. I think it was after the first dress rehearsal.”

“That long ago? We’ll have to change that.” He turns the little machine on to its first setting, holding it as it vibrates in his hand.

“Are you going to use that on me?” You ask, writhing as he places it upon your budding nipple.

“As tempting as it is.” He smirks, taking it away just as a moan threatens to leave your lips, “I think we’ll save it for another day.”

He turns it off and places it back in the bedside table, taking the box of condoms that are in there out also. He takes the foil packet out and at the same time pushes his underwear off of his body, revealing his member to you. It was already red, the tip angry and already leaking pre-come as it stood out from his body.

You can’t take your eyes off him. You had had some encounters with people before hand, you had needs, but you certainly hadn’t been with anyone quite so well endowed. He uses his teeth to rip open the packet, pinching it between his fingers and rolling it over his length.

“Can I ride you?” You ask, watching as Harry kneels on the edge of the bed.

He raises his eyebrows, “Do you want to?”

“I do.” You smile, watching as he laid down next to you.

“Hop on then.” He smirks, reaching for your hips as your straddle him.

You take him in your hand, lining him up with your centre. He grips your hips, guiding you down onto his cock. You moan as he fills you up, but you can move at your own speed and wait as long as you needed.

“Fuck.” He moans, sitting up to rest his head against your shoulder, “So fucking tight around my cock. Squeezing me just right.”

You couldn’t believe how much you were throbbing between your legs at the sounds of his words. Once you’ve become accustomed to his size, you started to bounce up and down on him. You catch his lips with yours, allowing yourself to succumb under the pleasure he was giving you. You couldn’t help the moans that tumbled out of your lips whilst you bounce, Harry’s hips lifting to meet yours.

“Harry, fucking hell.” He was making you feel so full, and so good, “Fuck, can I go faster?”

“Go as fast as you want, baby.” He kisses your lips briefly, “Make yourself come on my cock.”

You bounce your hips faster, leaning forward to grip your headboard to give you more leverage to move your hips. You could feel sweat collecting upon your brow and body, your hair sticking to your neck. The only sound in the room was your moans and your groans, as well as the creaking of your bed and your headboard hitting the wall. You prayed at this point that your neighbours couldn’t hear you through your wall.

“I’m gonna come, H.” You moan out, lowering one of your hands so that you could rub your clit. Harry immediately notices and pushes your hand away, replacing it with his own finger rubbing quickly to coax your second orgasm of the night.

“Come on my cock, baby.” He speeds up his hips meeting yours, “Come on, I wanna feel you.”

Your second orgasm washes over you quicker than your first, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Harry thrusts harshly up into you a few time and you feel him spill into the condom. He groans against your neck as you collapse on top of him.

You had never felt so close to someone as you did to Harry, and even though you weren’t together yet it just felt right to take this step.

“You’re incredible, swan.”

You laugh and roll off him, whimpering at the feeling of him leaving you. You lay down next to him and watch as he takes the condom off and places it in the small bin in the corner of your room. Whilst he does that, you quickly make your way towards the bathroom to pee and clean yourself up. Never in your whole life had you felt this wet and orgasmed so hard from being with someone, and you don’t know whether to thank Harry or worship the ground that he walks on.

As you walk back into your room, you notice Harry laid upon your bed, shirtless and smiling as you walk back into the room. You slip into bed next to him.

“Harry?” He hums, “If I perform like this every night, are you going to do this overnight?”

“If you want me to, swan, I’ll never stop.”

You didn’t want him to.

A couple of months later, your time as the White Swan had finished. Your parents, as well as both Ethel and Harry, joined you for celebratory drinks. You found yourself loving having Harry with you, and Harry loved being with you as far as you could tell.

Waking up the next morning, you can’t remember the last time you woke up without having something to do the next day. Harry’s deep breaths fill your ears as he rests upon your neck, his arm around your waist and his leg pressed in between yours. You loved the feeling of having him so close to you, and you felt as though you couldn’t ever have him away from you now.

“Are you awake?” His voice is low and gruff in a morning, and it sparks something between your legs almost immediately.

“No.” You smile, “I’m still asleep.”

“I think you should stick to ballet, lying isn’t your forte.” He squeezes your middle, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I’m not lying. I’m still asleep.” You smile, relishing in the feeling of his arm around you.

He laughs, “I didn’t know I was with a sleep talker, swan. If I’d have known I would’ve been running for the hills.”

“How long have you been awake then?” You laugh, “Have you been watching me sleep?”

“Not watching.” He laughs, “Observing.”

You turn your head briefly so that you’re looking at him, leaning forward to place a kiss to his cheek.

“Kissy?”

“Morning breath.” You grimace, “Once I’ve brushed my teeth, maybe.”

“I don’t care.” He shakes his head, “I just want a kiss.”

“I care, though.”

“‘Gis a kiss, baby.” You lean forward and place a closed-lipped peck to his lips.

“Good enough?”

“I guess that’s all I’m getting.”

“That is correct.” You laugh.

Harry’s eyes fall upon yours, and he doesn’t look away. Even though he just woke up, he’s so effortlessly gorgeous that you can’t help but want to jump his bones and kiss him all of the time.

In your opinion, you had hit the jackpot. It was the most traditional relationship, but Harry was your person. From the first day you walked into the rehearsal room and Harry looked at you with such joy in his eyes you knew he was for you. You didn’t care what anyone else though, and you only wanted him.

You were falling for him, at a fast speed but you certainly would never complain.

“Be mine?”

“What?” You question, your eyebrows furrowing.

“Be my girlfriend?” He asked, “Be mine?”

You ponder the thought for a couple of seconds, leaving him waiting before your lips curl up into a smile, “Okay.”

“Okay.” You kiss him again, “I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“My swan.” He smiles, leaning forward to kiss you once again.

You laugh, “I feel like that’s going to be my forever nickname.”

“It’s how we met.” He smiles, “I never want to forget it.”

You never do.

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #harry styles au #harry styles writing

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allthingsfangirl101 · 3 years

Text

Broken Heart Part 4–Troy Bolton

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Reader's POV

It's been three years since I told Troy how I felt and he turned me down. After that awful day, I couldn't face him. I spent the rest of the school year with my head down.

I went to class, played the piano in rehearsal, and then went right home. I spent my lunches in the theater, practicing the different pieces. Kelsie and Ryan tried to get me to hang out after school but I politely told them no.

I shut down. I wasn't happy. And nothing my friends tried to do to cheer me up worked.

After high school, I got a full-ride scholarship to Julliard for piano. I'm a junior and I've started looking for jobs after graduation. Over Spring Break, I talked to Ms. Darbus about being hired on as the music teacher and helping the theater department at East High.

After talking with Ms. Darbus, I ran a few errands for my mom. I was walking down the street when I heard someone say my name.

"Y/N?"

I turned around, my breath getting caught in my throat when I saw Troy at the end of the sidewalk. He smiled as he lifted his hand and hesitantly waved. I bit my lip, waving back. He must have taken that as a good sign because he walked over to me.

"It's nice to see you," he smiled.

"You too," I said under my breath. It was very clear that there was an awkward tension between us.

"How have you been?" He asked.

"Good. . . You?"

"I'm good," he chuckled. "How's Julliard?"

"It's been really great," I said, slightly relaxing a little more. "I actually just talked to Ms. Darbus about working at East High after I graduate."

"Really?" He asked. "That's amazing, Y/N. Would you take her job?"

"No," I said, smiling slightly. "I would help her with the music for the show but would mainly teach choir. I also might play the piano for the orchestra and band."

"That's incredible," Troy smiled. "I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks," I said, nervously tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. Silence fell between us, neither one of us knowing what to say. I looked away from him but could feel him watching me.

"I miss you," he whispered. I looked up at him and started nervously chewing on my bottom lip.

"What?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

"I miss you, Y/N," he repeated. "So much."

"Troy," I stuttered.

"Can we go get coffee?" He asked. "I'd really like to catch up."

* * * * *

After we ordered and got our drinks, Troy didn't head to a table. Instead, he headed outside. I smiled when I noticed we were heading towards our park and our favorite bench. That smile quickly went away as we sat down.

Neither one of us said anything as we people watched. Sitting next to him on our bench weighed very heavily on me. I wanted to scream, cry, demand an explanation, and run away.

"I broke up with Gabriella."

My head shot up, my eyes wide when he blurted that out. "Because of me?" I asked under my breath.

"No," he quickly said. "Well, sorta."

He laughed awkwardly as he reached up and scratched the back of his neck. He sighed when he saw the look on my face.

"Gabriella thinks we broke up because of distance," he mumbled. He cleared his throat as he continued to explain. "But actually, I broke up with her because I couldn't stop thinking about your confession senior year. In fact, I've spent the last three years going over everything. I mean everything. I thought about when we met. I thought about our friendship. I thought about when things could've changed for you. I thought about whether things changed for me."

"Troy," I said, his name getting caught in my throat.

He looked away from me, watching as an older couple walked by. Without looking at me, he said under his breath, "I spent the last three years trying to get the nerve up to call you."

"And what would you have told me if you'd gotten the nerve?"

Troy looked up at me, something in his eyes changing. He slowly reached over and grabbed my hand gently, like he was waiting for me to pull away.

"I would've told you that letting you go senior year was the dumbest mistake I've ever made," he said with a small smile. "Like dumber than jumping into an audition with Gabriella."

He waited for me to laugh, but I didn't. I cleared my throat as I sat back, pulling my hand out of his. His smile faltered when I pulled away but only for a second.

"Y/N, the thing is. . . When you. . . I wasn't. . . It's not that I didn't. . ."

I waited patiently as he struggled to find the right words. There was a second when we just stared into each other's eyes. I broke the staring contest and looked down at my untouched latte.

"I think I'm in love with you."

I looked up at him and immediately tried to study him. Part of me wanted to believe him, but the other part of me held back.

"You think?" I whispered. "That's not. . ."

"I know that doesn't sound very reassuring," he sighed. "But I have spent the last three years thinking about you. I've been thinking about us and everything we've been through together. If you look at us from an outside perspective, I was a jock who protected his musical best friend. Until. . ."

He looked away from me, but I caught a glimpse of his regret. He continued without looking at me.

"Until I met someone who took my attention away from you. I never wanted. . . I never meant for her to replace you, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

When his voice broke, I reached over and grabbed his hand. He looked up at me, hope in his eyes as I intertwined our fingers.

"The whole year Gabriella and I did long-distance, I found myself wanting to talk to you more than her," he said without looking away from me. "I found myself thinking about you more than I thought about her. I realized that you were who I wanted in my life, not her. You were the one I wanted by my side. You were the one I loved."

My eyes filled with tears. Troy smiled as he reached up and caught a tear with his thumb.

"I didn't mean to make you cry," he whispered, his hand still holding my face.

"I didn't mean to cry," I whispered back. "I'm just a little confused."

"Well, maybe this can clear it up for you."

I held my breath as he leaned in, still holding my cheek. I gasped when his lips pressed delicately to mine. Troy slowly broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against mine.

"I know I'm in love with you," he corrected his earlier statement. He leaned back, finally dropping his hand as he whispered, "I know I don't deserve a chance with you. I know I messed up senior year. I know I don't deserve you. . ."

I cut him off by grabbing his face and pressing my lips to his. I felt him smile into the kiss as our lips moved in sync. The tears continued to stream down my cheeks as we kissed.

I have wanted to kiss Troy since freshman year. Finally being able to show him how I felt was unlike any feeling I've ever had. He let out a small laugh as he broke the kiss.

"I love you, Y/N," he said, slightly out of breath from the kiss. "I can't live without you. Please tell me I didn't lose you."

"You didn't," I whispered.

"Really?" He asked, his voice breaking slightly. I reached up and caught a small tear that had escaped.

"I love you, Troy," I said, my voice breaking. "I never stopped."

He smiled before quickly pressing his lips back to mine. I giggled into the kiss when I heard two coffee cups falling. We broke the kiss and looked over at our cups now on the sidewalk.

"I think we spilled our coffees," Troy joked. I laughed as I turned towards him.

"That was your fault," I whispered. "You owe me another one."

"How about I owe you something better?"

"Better?" I stuttered.

"A date."

#troy bolton #troy bolton imagines #high school musical #zac efron #zac efron imagines #zac efron x reader

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adorethedistance · 3 years

Text

Doomsayers - Owen Joyner x Artist!Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, existential dread, pretty mild content overall.

Words: 1110

Summary: Owen had to practically harass you to get you to relax on your mutual day off, but the quality time together takes an unexpected turn when you exhibit a small sense of self-doubt.

A/N: I’m sorry I’ve sort of disappeared but I’ll offer an explanation in the footnote. Other than that, requests are still being filled right now. Let this self-indulgent piece hold you over in the meantime. I wanted to get something out and due to how the process went with finishing this one, I think I’m slowly easing back into a writing spell after such a long period of writer’s block.

“Y/N!” Owen yells, dragging out my name despite being a mere ten feet away.

“Oweennnnn,” I whine back in an insincerely mocking tone. My almost too loving boyfriend is lying in the unmade sheets of my bed, groaning at me from a supine position. I’m switching in between sitting and standing as I work on a new painting for a client. It’s a magical realist take on an Italian cobblestone street view, and I’ve spent so much time on the painting this week that I’m way ahead of schedule. Owen knows this and is consequently moaning at me from his spot where he’s nestled on my bed.

A lazy Saturday is exactly what we both needed, but when I decided I had a little time the morning before he showed up, I’d gotten so invested in my workflow that I didn’t even break to answer the door. This isn’t the first time Owen’s had to let himself into my place with the key I gave him for our one-year anniversary. Essentially: when I have a warm drink in one hand and a paintbrush in the other, there’s no telling when I’ll break next.

“We’re supposed to be relaxing. Why are you working on our lazy Saturday?”

“I’m not working.” I brush a loose strand of hair out of my face, careful not to dab a glob of yellow oil paint across my cheek.

“You are painting a commission. It’s literally work, babe.”

“Hush. I’ve got a good workflow going.”

“If you don’t put that brush down in the next 10 seconds… I’ll… I’ll break up with you!”

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t,” he sighs defeatedly. “But I will start crying.”

“Owen-” I stand up straight after being hunched over the canvas for so long.

“Please?” When I look at my boyfriend he’s giving me the most pitiful pout in the world and I can’t help but smile. His pout morphs into a full grin when I set my paintbrush into a plastic cup of water and oil solution.

“I hate you, you know that?”

“I love you!”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“You think I’m cute?”

“Hush.”

I crawl up the length of my bed to join Owen who awaits my arrival with open arms. He’s resting on all my different pillows which are strewn about the bed via his nesting tendency. Once I’m laying down, Owen wraps both arms around my waist and rests his face on the nape of my neck. He presses a kiss to the bottom-most cervical vertebrae and inhales my scent delightedly.

“You enjoying yourself back there?”

“You smell good,” he mumbles shyly. Hugging his arms around me tighter, he traces soothing circles on my hip bone with his right index finger. His head comes to a static position as he’s finally comfortable, and slings his left leg over the side of my left thigh. I can’t help but laugh at the assumed position, and pull out my phone to entertain myself, knowing damn well that Owen will be asleep in a matter of minutes.

When I open instagram my face falters a little bit. The most recent post is from my coworker Kelly, and it’s a video of her 6 month old baby. In the video, her husband is holding the baby, making funny faces at her to get her to laugh. The sight is adorable and kind of saddening all at once. They seem like such a happy family and I’m sharply reminded by a thump in my chest of how Kelly got the promotion we were both up for last week. Her life seems magnificent, and mine feels like it hasn’t started yet. I know she’s three years older than me, but still. Three years isn’t that much. I still feel like I have no idea what I’m doing, or going to do.

“Owen?” I don’t trust my voice to lift over a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Are you happy?”

“I am now that you’re finally relaxing with me-”

“No,” I cut off his pointed comment with a breathy laugh, “I mean with life in general.” Owen’s finger stops tracing circles, and there’s no more movement of him making small adjustments. The only proof I have of him being alive is the faint tickle of his breath across the exposed skin of my neck.

“I mean, not everything is fantastic per se, but I’m content with the balance of good and bad.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… I still get in my own head with auditions a bit, but I have acting and a new pad and you,” Owen emphasizes his statement by hugging onto my waist a bit tighter. “Why? What’s up?”

“I don’t know. I just get consumed by the thought that--yes, everyone wants to be happy--but it just doesn’t happen for some people. Everyone has dreams and goals and aspirations, but how many people can actually say that they have their dream career or dream life?” I let out an involuntary sigh from subconsciously holding my breath. “What if I’m not one of the people who gets to be happy?”

“Woah… where is this coming from?” Owen holds onto me tighter at the lack of a response. He presses a lingering kiss to my back and doesn’t move away until he feels my shoulders physically relax in his grasp.

“You deserve to be happy. And you will be even if you aren’t right now. Even if the bad outweighs the good right now, you have me. I’m here for you… I love you, Y/n.”

“I know. I love you.”

“Besides, aren’t you a little young to be having so much existential dread?”

“Oh, that is so rich coming from you.”

“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Owen scoffs in defense of his honor.

“You are the biggest doomsayer I have ever met.”

“It could be worse. I could be this existential and look like you.” It’s my turn to play up defensive with an exaggerated gasp.

“You can cuddle with yourself then while I-”

“No! I’m sorry, please don’t leave!” His hold on my body grows impossibly tighter as he pulls me into his broad chest. I give in and stop struggling against him. Owen peppers the bare skin of my neck in staccato kisses to restore my tranquility. It’s not long until the two of us settle into a comfortable silence, simply desiring to be enveloped in one another’s presence. The syncopation of our breathing is the only sign of life in the room, and I’m consumed by a moment's clarity: as long as I have Owen, the good will always outweigh the bad.

***

A/n: Okay so for you nosy fuckers who care to read this: the reason I kinda disappeared... is so fuckin dumb. Idk how I got here but atm I’m #obsessed with Mat Barzal. Yeah. The hockey player. I don’t want to become a hockey blog tho so I figured I’d just go through this on my own and then resurface once I’m back on my JATP headassery. Slowly but surely, I can get through it. I go through periods of time where I exclusively read fics and then exclusively write fics. This has been a time of reading recently as I’ve purged the majority of Barzal content on here.

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading @dmcfarland1@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej @warmnesss0ul @celestialmolina @lilyjoyner

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natromanxoff · 3 years

Text

22 - Cars & Queenie Days

Hi there Queenie people.

What a strange little weekend this one turned out to be. Let me start by saying that most of my stories seem to have something to do with alcohol, but we were all a hell of a lot younger then, and I for one cannot do that anymore, well not all the time. Although a few days ago an old friend made a guest appearance, the Kurgen was let loose on the streets of Bondi which seemed to start a string of Queen type events. It all started about midday on Saturday when a friend of mine phoned and suggested lunch, what a fantastic idea as it was a lovely hot sunny day, so we met in a nice place with a garden and ordered the first bottle of wine, and it was the Linda Lovelace of vino, it went down very quickly and easily. During the course of the afternoon I phoned my mate Steve and said he should join us, which he did at about 8pm, and we finally moved indoors to have dinner, after sitting in the sun and guzzling wine for the last six hours, and needless to say I'm pissed so we ordered some more food and what turned out to be the last bottle of plonk for the evening.

Half way through dinner Rebecca decided she was to out of it to continue, and wisely went home, leaving the Kurgen and his mate, who has decided he's gonna catch up with me, what a good friend eh, but him getting drunk means me becoming a complete gibbering idiot. After dining we moved next door to the bar where the whisky was flowing very rapidly and the idiot telling one barmaid she looked like a cheap hooker, while swearing his undying love to another. Oh, get me another drink Steve, I think I need one. It finally gets to 1am and time to head home, it's been a long day, and while trying to negotiate the 10min walk I was complaining that my right leg wouldn't work, usual drunken crap.

What has this got to do with Queen I hear you ask, well, apart from the fact that a million years ago I worked for them for a while, not very much. Steve and myself eventually got back to my place and I got phoneitis and I had the need to speak with everyone from my dodgey past, so, phone book out and lets go. Pride of place went to Mr Deacon who was lucky to be speaking on the phone so the Kurgen, after two tries, couldn't get through. Time up for you pal, next. Broughie. He always calls me when he's legless, now it's his turn to try and decipher what I'm on about. When I got through to Trip I can remember saying, "Where the f*** are you?" And do you know what, I have no idea what the answer was, though he did say they cancelled a couple of shows, and everyone was having a great time. This is fun, lets spend some more money. The next call started with, "Mr Taylor, it's Mr Taylor here." Sorry Rog, but you did pick up the phone. I did tell him I'd listened to his new stuff on his website and it's the best stuff he'd done in years, and I have an awful feeling I said that I didn't like 'Happiness,' but he did say that he reads my memoirs, so if you get to see this Mr T. I'll try and be a bit more sober next time I call.

Jacky followed, phone was busy (No it wasn't, we were out, you left a message!!) , gotta move on, I'm on a roll now. A new game, lets try and track down my ex in LA, no luck, thank god, and with that my new accountant Steve took the phone away from me, thanks dear boy. He clears off around 3 and I hit the sack and descend into a coma. Ring ring.....ring ring. Its 9am, who the f*** is phoning in the middle of the night, so, with head pounding I track the phone down and had to raise a bit of a giggle, it's Broughie and now he's pissed and he told me that in nearly twenty years of knowing me, that is the worst he's ever heard me try and talk, to which I reply that this is the worst I've ever felt.

Spandau's Tony Hadley was the next person I speak to, what a diamond geezer, always nice to chat with him. Sunday was a non-existent day with a phone that had no sympathy for me and kept ringing, amazingly it's still in one piece. A wet Monday and I'm still feeling a bit iffy, but come afternoon I receive a package in the post, I like little surprises, so when I walk in and turn the radio on Bo Rap is playing, and when I open my pressie it's from the ever gorgeous Jacky who has very kindly sent me RT's Electric Fire. You know what I mean, his new CD not the electric fire out of his bedroom. I'm glad I told him it was great, cause it is, in my humble opinion, possibly the best thing he's done. That was a hell of a lot of words just to say " go and buy Electric fire and put it in the charts, you won't be disappointed".

I was chatting with Greg Fryer, the fireplace restorer, and we're both looking forward to the Australian convention in a few weeks, although I might be drinking lemonade as I made the idiot promise that "I'm never drinking again". Some time ago somebody asked me a question which went something like, "When you were in the studio with just Roger or the Cross, was it a bit of an anti climax after working with Queen as they were such brilliant musicians." I don't know if I'm missing something here, but as Roger was a solo artist, a member of the Cross and also in Queen, surely that must make him brilliant. Well, whatever your name was, no it wasn't boring it was mostly fun. When he was producing other acts I must admit that I did a lot of sitting around doing bugger all, and I every act were ok as people, though once Jimmy Nail had a hit he did get a rather large ego and changed into a real prat.

Virginia Wolf had two old buddies of mine in the band, Joe Burt and Jason Bonham, so when we went to Ibiza to record it was party time from start to finish, though Jason did go overboard a bit, so to protect us more than him we sent him back to England. I was only involved in one Cross album, Shove It, and that was just going to be another RT solo album so he played all the instruments himself.

I think I've mentioned before that we drove the Bentley to Montreux, well this was the time. The plan was to spend three or four days in Montreux recording then go to Gstaad to write some more songs. That was the excuse because we had a huge chalet there and the idea was to do a lot of skiing and a bit of writing, which is exactly what we did. It was in Gstaad that Roger came up with the idea of forming a band, and after a hard day on the slopes we would sit around at night working out a plan on putting a band together. On the subject of Bentleys and Gstaad I feel obliged to tell you just how much bad luck RT has with his cars.

When he bought his first Range Rover he claimed "You can park them on a sixpence." We had to tow him out of a ditch. His Ferrari burst into flames on his way to the south of France, and his Aston Martin also burst into flames. He hardly ever drove the Bentley, it was my baby and I loved it and never had any problems. Dominique decided she was going to join our little ski trip and was coming to Gstaad, now don't get me wrong, I love Dom, a fine lady, still is, it's just that I didn't fancy the hour drive down the mountain and then the hour along the motorway to the airport. On the day of her arrival RT surprised me by saying he was going to pick her up, that'll do me, drop me off at the chair lift and have a nice drive. A very pleasant afternoon was spent on the piste so when I get back to the house I'm ready for some mindless computer games, and while in the middle of shooting some aliens the phone rings and it's Dominique asking where Roger was as he's not at the airport to pick her up.

The only thing I can say is for her to hang on because he left in plenty of time so he should be there, and I'm back to saving the world. Hours later the door flies open with Roger ranting and raving and saying something about F-in-cars. What's his problem? I look out the window and in the driveway is a VW Golf, so the obvious question is, "Where's the Bentley?" When his lordship finally calmed down he explained that when he got to the motorway there was a blizzard, so he had to have the windscreen wipers on full, but the one on the drivers side came off, so he stopped the car and was groping around in the snow looking for it, and he found it and put it back on. So far so good, except a couple of miles further on it came off again, and this time it was nowhere to be seen. Now try and picture the situation. Swiss motorway, lots of snow falling, very expensive black Bentley and a very famous pop star hanging out the window while driving so he can wipe the snow off the screen so he can see. Not a very good look at all.

On arrival at Geneva he took the car to the Rolls Royce dealer to get fixed, and it wasn't long after this that I said my final goodbye to a trusty friend. Roger on the other hand said Good F***ing Riddance. I have an equally pathetic driving story when we were in Rio, this time it was the two of us, a convertible and one hell of a lot of rain. Next time might be right to tell you how we put the Cross together from the first ad. onwards. Before I go I have a question for Jacky. Do you remember all those bacon sandwiches we had at the auditions? That's it for now Bye

Crystal

#queen #queen band #the cross #the cross band #roger taylor #john deacon #dominique beyrand #crystal taylor #crystal's tales

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halfway-happyyy · 3 years

Text

Coming Home

AN: hello friends! it’s me again! and back (again) with something that no one asked for, but if this thought has to live rent free in my head... then it might as well in yours, too.

tw: nothing but fluff, since that’s all i can get my brain to create these days.

She awakens in the morning's hush to a dull throbbing in her head, her throat like sandpaper. Shuffling through a mental rolodex of the previous evening’s drinks, she swallows hard to keep the roiling waves of nausea at bay. An idle glance to the clock on the spare room night side table tells her that it’s later in the morning, and she waits until she hears the familiar sound of water hitting the metal drain of Alexander's shower before she lifts the duvet from her body. A cool, hardwood floor greets her bare feet as she pads to the closet in search of something to throw over her figure before she heads downstairs. Settling on a worn, crème cashmere sweater of his that falls to her shins, she stretches her arms high above her head to limber up. Stepping out into the hallway, the heady aroma of freshly ground coffee beans greets her as she makes her way down the spiral staircase towards the much-needed liquid. Muffled pieces of Swedish find her from the kitchen.

“There she is,” Gustaf beams at her, his wise, knowing gaze twinkles merrily in the sunshine filtering in through the open kitchen window.

Bill is already reaching for a coffee mug for her.

“Morning Goose.” She smiles, sleepily. “Good morning, Bill.”

He smiles at her, wryly. “Good morning kid. How are you fairing so far?”

She shifts from foot to foot- remembers the shots taken, the beers consumed, the martinis sipped, and she grimaces. “I’m uh… definitely feeling a little rough for sure, but it’s really nothing a couple cups of coffee and some food won't cure.”

Gustaf laughs heartily before taking a deep sip from his own mug. Setting it down against the oak tabletop, his smile bears a teasing lilt. “I confess I am impressed that you're even upright at the moment.”

She accepts the coffee from Bill graciously, notes that he has made it exactly how she likes it, and thanks a higher being for the Skarsgårds. Taking her first sip of the day, she savours the creamy bitterness of it on her tongue, and the warmth of it as it settles in her tummy and turns to Gustaf. “Me too, Goose. How did last night get so out of hand?”

Bill rolls his viridian eyes. “The same way it always does.”

She remembers the text she received from Alexander yesterday afternoon vividly: ‘Hey kid- I’m back on home turf for the next week. Having some friends over tonight to celebrate. Bill and Gustaf miss you. Maybe I do too. If you’re not doing anything, please consider dropping by. Don’t bring any liquor. I already have too much. Hope to see you soon, xx – A’ Her cheeks warm at the thought of it, and she swallows hard. “Yeah, I have no recollection of like… the last two hours of the evening.”

Bill chuckles into his mug. “You were pretty entertaining. Uh but eventually, and unfortunately for the rest of us, Alex hauled you into his arms and tucked you into bed a little after midnight.” Alex hauled you into his arms… And just then- a flash of a memory; his impossibly warm, sure arms around her, the softness of a bed, the sheer relief of him pulling a duvet over her body, a pair of tender lips against her temple, a sliver of pale light from the hallway on her arm, the sound of a door shutting softly. “But hey,” Bill murmurs, taking notice of the expression on her face. “You had fun, right?”

She’s about answer in the affirmative, when the water stops, and she clears her throat. “I wanted to run something by you two before Alex comes down.”

Gustaf sets down the script he had been reading and turns to her, his attention now suddenly all-consuming. Bill sets his empty mug against the marble counter and folds his arms across his chest. “Go on, then.”

“What do you think the chances of Alex setting me up with Joel are?” She picks anxiously at a patch of chipped lavender polish on her pinkie finger as she awaits their responses.

Gustaf speaks first, his expression deadpan. “Joel who?”

She has to fight the urge to roll her eyes. “The other Scandinavian giant who likes to hang around with you guys sometimes. He and Alex go way back apparently…”

“You don’t mean Joel Kinnaman?” Bill asks, tone incredulous.

Her cheeks grow ever warmer. “Yeah, that’s him.” He had made an appearance last night for a couple of hours- and she thought that they had hit it off well, all things considered. “But if you guys don’t really think it’s a good idea, I’ll just… leave it.” Gustaf opens his mouth to say something, but in place of any actual words, a booming laugh tumbles out and soon the pair of them are laughing so hard, they’re both silent. She folds her arms across her chest, suddenly defensive, and waits for their laughter to subside. She listens for Alexander’s weighted footsteps above her. “Alright you two, that’s enough. I get it, I’ll drop it.” She snaps.

Gustaf sighs, his eyes still glitter just as brilliantly as before. “Listen, little one. I don’t think it’s a bad idea at all. I just think that it’s precarious territory.”

“What’s precarious about it? Apart from the fact that you both clearly don’t think that I can make it happen.” She gets it before they confirm it for her. One of his ex-girlfriends was Olivia Munn for crying out loud. She suddenly feels ridiculous for even considering it.

Gustaf clears his throat and stares at her, and she feels like he’s peering into her very soul. “You are a very capable and brilliant young woman, my dear. So, you will excuse me if I find it difficult to believe that you truly don’t know.”

She stares at them both, expectantly. “Don’t know what?”

Gustaf shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee. “Alex carries a massive, blazing torch for you.” His admission hangs heavy in the air before them and she barely has time to register it before the sound of Alexander on the staircase rouses her. “So, you can absolutely ask him to set you up with Joel, but I doubt very much that it will go in your favour.”

She’s about to shake her head, to protest, but Alexander enters the kitchen. His dark blonde hair is still wet from the shower, and water droplets glisten above the collar of his blue t shirt. “What’s all the fuss about? I could hear you two yahoos laughing from the washroom.” His gaze turns to her, and he smiles. “Morning kid. Good to see you up and at it.”

“Good morning, Alex,” She mumbles. “I’m sorry about last night.”

His expression softens evermore, and he shakes his head. “Nonsense. I just hope you’re feeling alright today.”

She swallows hard, the throbbing in her head still apparent, but more tolerable after coffee. Gustaf’s words echo in the back of her mind. “Hanging in there.”

“It is suspiciously quiet in here now, boys.” Alexander murmurs as he procures an espresso cup from the same cupboard.

Gustaf clears his throat and closes his script. “Just an inside joke between the three of us. I'm off. I've got an audition with HBO on Thursday that I'd like to feel at least somewhat prepared for. Thanks again for your ever-generous hospitality, brother.” He stands up from the table, and slings an arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head as he does so. “You remember what I told you, hm?”

She nods her head. How could she possibly forget? “Yeah, Goose.”

“You coming little brother?” He cocks an eyebrow at Bill. The middle Skarsgård nods his head in the affirmative and leans over to tell Alexander something in their native tongue. It makes the eldest brother smile, and he throws an arm around Bill's shoulders to bid him goodbye.

Bill wraps his arms around her, and this is always when the full gravity of their stature hits her. “Good seeing you again, kid. Take care of yourself, hm?”

She beams at him and nods her head. “’Til next time, Bill.”

She listens for the familiar chime of the front door closing, before lifting herself onto the counter next to Alexander. “I found this in the spare room closet,” she murmurs, gesturing to his sweater. “If you mind, I can go change-

“I don't mind at all, kid.”

Alexander had been an integral part of her life for the better part of five years now, and in all that time she was simply grateful just to call him a friend- a wonderful one at that. But then she remembers the lingering touches, the playful- yet somehow scorching teasing of any new love interest, the general (and sometimes overpowering) sensation of sheer want for him at the end of a long night. She views him in a new light now; the crystalline water droplets from before have evaporated into his sun-kissed skin, but his hair still bears the weight of moisture and the sudden urge to card her fingers through it is overwhelming. “I have something to tell you,” He murmurs.

This is it, she thinks.

“It's about last night.”

And suddenly, the nausea that had been so persistent an hour ago, returns in full force and she swallows hard to keep the coffee from rising in her throat. “Alex, if it's something I did or said… I'm sorry.”

He shakes his head and lifts his gaze to hers, her azure orbs are alight with a fire she doesn’t quite recognize. “None of that, kid. It's Joel. He wants to take you out for dinner sometime soon and I guess he wanted my blessing first.”

“Oh.”

“Mhm.” He confirms. “Seems you made quite the impression on him last night.”

And god, she thinks this news would have been the best news to receive an hour ago. But then sixty-two minutes elapsed, and in that space of time, Gustaf handed her his eldest brother’s gift-wrapped secret, and here they are. “I didn’t mean to,” She mumbles.

And Alexander laughs at this, and in that moment, she swears it’s her favourite sound in the whole world. “You never do, kid. There’s just something about being around you that’s as effortless as breathing. You take up the perfect amount of space. It’s quite a thing to behold, actually.” He sips his espresso, his intense gaze on her makes her feel more naked than she’s ever been before. “So, what do you say?”

She offers him a half-shrug. “What do you say?”

He blanches now. “What do you mean? This is entirely your decision.”

“You know him better than I do. You also know me, Alex. What do you say?”

And like grains of sand through fingertips, his resolve crumbles before her very eyes. “I can’t quite articulate what it’s like to watch someone accomplish in a night, what I’ve thought about for nearly five years. That is entirely on me, though,” He trails off, setting his empty cup against the counter. “But he’s a good guy, kid. I’d be lying if I said anything to the contrary.”

Her throat constricts as she mulls over what to say next. “Why did you wait, Alex?”

There is a vast vulnerability to him that she hasn’t been privy to until now. And in this moment, he isn’t Alexander Skarsgård the movie star- Hollywood and Sweden’s most eligible bachelor. He is her best friend; the six-foot-four dork with the adorable overbite, the guy who can’t pronounce his ‘ands’ properly because of his accent. He is the man who would give the shirt off his back to anyone in need. A true, golden heart beats in his chest, it keeps him alive, propelling him towards greatness. “I don’t operate the way normal people do, and you know that. It’s like… I repel relationships. It’s the distance and the timing that throws people off, kid.” His eyes darken. “They’re drawn to the glitz at first; the premiers, and the award ceremonies, the tropical vacations. But then I miss birthdays and weddings and engagement parties, and no one ever seems to want to stick around after the dust settles.” He allows himself a deep, steadying breath. “And I’ve never blamed them at all for that. But then you came into my life, and we weren’t ever in a relationship in the traditional sense, but you became a really good friend- one of the best, and you stuck around." He sighs heavily. "You just... feel like coming home, kid. And in all this time, that feeling has never wavered or changed."

“Alex, I-

“So why did I wait? It’s a good question,” He clears his throat. “I waited because I thought that the minute I laid everything out on the line for you, you wouldn’t want it.” And god, she can feel her heart cracking under the weight of his honesty. “And even saying it now, I know I should have automatically given you the benefit of the doubt. But you’ve been around for all of it, kid. You've picked up the pieces. You know how ugly it can get.”

She swallows hard, heart thrumming wildly in her chest. “Come closer,” She murmurs. Alexander hesitates a beat before settling into the space between her legs, his denim jeans tickle the velvet softness of her inner thighs, and she shivers into the sensation. His face is mere inches away from hers now, and she can smell the refreshing scent of bodywash on his skin, the sharp citrus shampoo from his damp hair. “I want to try Alex,” It comes out as a whisper, but he catches it because his lips twitch into a small smile. “If you want to.”

His gaze travels to her lips, and he closes the distance between them to kiss her. His massive, warm hands find purchase in her hair as their kiss deepens, and every fiber of her being screams at her that this is it- this is what they’ve both been waiting for. When he eventually pulls away, he rests his forehead against hers to try to regulate his breathing. His gives her thighs a gentle squeeze and places a tender kiss to her forehead. “I absolutely want this, kid.”

And she believes him because she wants it just as bad.

#forever soft #alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard imagine #alexander skarsgard oneshot #alexander skarsgard fanfic #alexander skarsgard fluff #alex sstuff #writing #drabble #fluff #alexander skarsgard rpf #rpf

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