#shoutout to myself for only missing the date by one day

[its-time-to-write]

how about a Jamie x reader fic when they go away to Amsterdam they sit together on bus and they wake up cuddling and then there’s an issue w hotel booking and there’s a one bed trope and they end up waking up cuddled together and then they admit feelings and reader goes to game with a tartt jersey on <3

I’ve been thinking about this forever, and I’m terribly sorry it took so long!! I do enjoy being an adult, but I’m at a point in life where I don’t have much free time and if I do, I use it to sleep😂

I really miss the days when Ted Lasso was still airing and the x reader tags had new content every day. I feel like that one meme of Thanos when he’s like “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” Shoutout to all y’all who are still here and reading my stuff! Love you!!

smile at me

It’s straight-up fucked. It really, really is. But also maybe it’s good, as Keeley pointed out, because not having a boyfriend anymore means you can focus on yourself?

Or something. 

Of course he had to break up with you right before leaving for Amsterdam. Hell, he broke up with you because you were leaving for Amsterdam. 

“I don’t want you going to another country with a bunch of other guys,” he had said. “It’s them or me.”

“It’s literally my job,” you told him. 

Apparently, that didn’t matter. 

But what-fucking-ever, you’re at Keeley’s waiting for a car to take you to the airport, and she’s promised to make sure you don’t think about your stupid ex even once. 

It’s times like these you wish Ted were still here with a spot-on pun and some dad-type advice. All you ever get from Beard is a weird anecdote and a vaguely threatening look. 

Keeley chatters on for the entirety of the ride to the airport, through customs, and all the way to the lounge. 

“You’re gonna get loads of great content for the socials, babe. Candids, action shots, behind-the-scenes. Friendlies are fucking amazing!”

Last time Richmond were in Amsterdam, they had lost horribly. They’re hoping to make up for it this time around. 

The plane is full of Greyhounds, both footballers and coaches alike, with Rebecca at the very front. Keeley plops done in the seat next to her as Dani waves at you from the middle. 

“I saved you a seat!” he calls. You smile as Sam takes your bag to put it in the overhead. “Thanks, Dani. You excited?”

Dani grins. “I think this time I am ready to see a whole field of tulips!”

You laugh as the lads roll their eyes. Jamie leans across the aisle toward you and says, “Oi, what’s the twat doing while you’re away?” 

You press your lips into a thin line. “Not a clue.”

He raises an eyebrow and says, “You break up with him?”

“He broke up with me.”

Jamie twists his face into a scoff. “And you wonder why I call him the fucking twat. Prick. Bet it was so he could finally fuck his coworker.”

You shrug. Jamie’s never liked your boyfriend. It’s not like you were together long, only a few months. And sure, he was a little bit of a twat, but sue you. You had a special place in your heart for pricks with a heart of gold, only he didn’t even have a heart at all. 

“You should date someone better,” Jamie continues. 

You glare at him and retort, “Oh yeah, because it’s just that easy. You got some one in mind?”

Jamie gives you his most angelic look and says, “What about me?” which makes half the plane dissolve into laughter, yourself included. 

“Cheers, Jamie,” you say as you wipe your eyes. “I needed that.”

A strange look crosses his face, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual cocky expression. “Anytime, love,” he replies as you turn to start a conversation with Dani. 

As much as you’d like that, Jamie would never date you. His joke stings a little but you brush it off. Maybe you’ll find another twat in Amsterdam to distract yourself from the fact that you’re half in love with Jamie Tartt.

—

“I’m sorry, we don’t have a booking under you name,” the hotel concierge says.

You tap your nails to your wrist. “Are you positive? I’m with AFC Richmond, they should’ve had one.”

The concierge taps on his computer for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid we don’t have anything. And all of our rooms are booked this weekend. Might I recommend the hotel down the road?”

Damn it. There’s no way this is happening. Everyone else has gotten to their rooms without a hitch and here you are, alone in the lobby as you pull out your phone to call Keeley. There’s no way this is fucking happening. 

“Everything alright?” asks a voice behind you, and you jump. 

“They don’t have a room for me, and they’re fully booked,” you explain. 

Jamie looks at the concierge, who shrugs apologetically, then back to you. He asks, “Why don’t you share with me?” and you frown. 

“I thought you were rooming with Declan,” you say. 

Jamie lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, but he switched with Richard because O’Brien fucking snores and he don’t give a shit.”

You say, “So you’re with Richard, then,” and he shakes his head. 

“Nah, Richard’s with Jan.”

“I thought Dani was with Jan,” you say. These fucking footballers. What’s the point in having set rooms if they’re just going to switch it all up.

“Dani is with Jan,” Jamie says patiently, as if this all the most obvious thing in the world. “But Dani’s a cuddler, so he’s probably going to fucking end up with, I don’t know, Isaac or someone. Which means I get a room all to meself.”

“Right,” you say slowly. “Alright, I can do that. As long as you don’t mind.”

Jamie winks. “Sharing a room with a pretty girl for four days? Ain’t a problem, love.”

You laugh and follow him to the elevator.

—

It feels a bit like playing with fire, agreeing to room with Jamie. Especially since you’re freshly single and definitely open to a rebound. But there will be two beds and a lot of space and anyway, you’ll be busy with the match and social media, respectively. 

Except as soon as you walk through the door, you realize there’s a tiny little hitch.

“There’s one bed,” you blurt out, so surprised you’re unable to filter your words. Jamie blushes a little bit as he says, “Yeah, um, Cockburn and I hate sleeping alone, so we asked for one. He grew up sharing a bed with his brothers and I just fucking hate being alone. I can sleep on the couch if you want.”

“No,” you say firmly, “you need good rest. It’s not a problem.”

It’s not a problem. 

Or at least it wouldn’t have been if Isaac had been a shittier captain. 

But as it is he’s great, so he’s got the whole team going out to dinner at a pre-determined location complete with a dress code of no t-shirts and apparently you count as part of the team, so you have to go too. You’re in your massive bathroom trying to curl your disgusting travel hair when Jamie walks in wearing one of those white hotel bathrobes.

He asks, “You mind if I’m in here?” so you shake your head, struck temporarily mute by his bare clavicle. Fucking hell, you feel like a repressed Victorian woman. 

Jamie says, “Mint,” and goes about his alarmingly detailed skincare routine. You’re pretty sure you’re done with your hair so you crane your neck in an attempt to check the back. 

“Missed a spot,” Jamie says. “Want me to get it for you?”

You shoot him a dubious look but hand him the curler. He runs a hand through your hair, picking up the offending strand and it’s all you can do not to shiver. 

“Mum taught me,” he explains and you nod ever so slightly, not wanting him to accidentally burn your neck. Jamie says, “All good,” and runs his whole hand through your hair this time, making the curls bounce. 

You choke out, “Thanks,” and hurriedly put away your things, desperate to leave before Jamie can pick up on the fact that you can barely handle being in the same room as him, and that you have great concerns about what the night will bring. 

—

“You look fucking hot,” is the first thing Rebecca says when you meet her in the lobby. Keeley looks mildly offended that Rebecca took the words out of her mouth, but she just laughs and taps your arm. 

“Gonna break a few hearts tonight, yeah?” she grins.

You’re not sure about that, especially since dinner turns out to be a very domestic affair. It’s loud, sure, but it’s definitely toned down since it’s a pre-match celebration instead of a post-match one. You’re with Sam, Keeley, and Roy with Jamie far, far away. You push all thoughts of him from your brain only for memories of your ex to surface. You frown. 

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy says and for a moment, you think he’s talking to you. But he’s actually talking to Jamie who has moved from his place across the restaurant to right behind your chair. 

“Fuck off grandad,” Jamie says good-naturedly. “Wanted to tell this one that some of the lads are going out dancing after this. Not too late,” he hastily adds at Roy’s burning scowl, “just for two hours and we’re only allowed one drink.”

You’re pretty sure that’s a bit more liberal than Roy likes, but he nods his head slightly so he must be in a good mood.

“So, you coming?” Jamie asks and before you can reply Sam and Keeley chorus, “Yes she is.”

You give Keeley a Look before turning back to Jamie. “Guess I am,” you reply.

The smile Jamie gives you does more to make your head spin than any amount of alcohol you’ve had in your lifetime.

—

Jamie has taken it upon himself to wipe that frown off your face. He might have been watching you over dinner and that might have been why he chose that exact moment to invite you out, but he’ll never fucking admit it to anyone except Sam. And Keeley. And maybe Cockburn when it was the off-season and they were a little tipsy. (But not drunk, never drunk.) 

So yeah, sue him if he’s spinning you around on the crowded dance floor just because it makes you laugh. It’s not his fault that he’s been wildly in love with you since the day Higgins hired you. It’s not his fault that you’re easy to be around and have the most beautiful smile he’s seen in his life. 

And fuck, it certainly isn’t his fault you can’t see in yourself what others do. Why you settled for a piece of shit like your ex, he’ll never know. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do his best to show you how special you are. He knows you’ll never feel the same about him, but maybe he can help you level up your standards. Maybe if you’re with someone good, it’ll hurt less that it’s not him. 

So he lets you hold his hand for the entirety of the two hours that the team is out and doesn’t say a word when you don’t let go in the cab back to the hotel. 

You’ve gotten that closed-off look in your eyes again, the one that means you’re thinking about your ex, so Jamie knocks his shoulder into yours and asks why he can’t have the password to the team’s Instagram account, which is a sure fire way to get you to lecture him on irresponsibility and aesthetics and the best way to get your eyes to come back to life.

—

Honestly, it’s easier to fall asleep than you might have expected. It’s a big bed and you’re fucking tired. 

You just didn’t expect to wake up in the middle of the night crying, but it’s always fucking like this when you go through a breakup. You go to sleep fine and wake up sad, so you do your best not to wake up Jamie except you’ve both ended up entangled in each other’s arms, so he can feel you shaking. 

“Hey,” Jamie says in a soft voice, “You’re okay, love.”

You half expect him to push you away once he realizes you’re so close, but he only pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. Maybe it’s because you’re both half-asleep, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

You sigh and settle into him, drifting off in a matter of moments. 

—

You wake up to a pair of blue eyes watching you. 

“How you feeling?” Jamie asks, voice gravelly with sleep. 

You just blink at him. It’s hard to form coherent sentences within the first ten seconds of waking up, and even harder with the memory of Jamie’s arms around you last night. 

Wait. Not just the memory. The present reality because neither of you have moved. 

Jamie misinterprets your silence and begins to extricate his arms.

“Sorry,” he says, “I’m not to trying to like, cross and fucking boundary or something. Should’ve left you alone.”

You’re still not awake enough to talk so you grab him to stop him from moving away. He gives you a questioning look so you say, “I wouldn’t have agreed to share a bed if I thought you were a creep.”

Jamie grins. “So like, if Jan had offered to share a room you’d’ve said no.”

You wrinkle your nose as you say, “Jan’s not a creep.”

“He’s the fucking worst,” Jamie grumbles, “And anyway, can we not talk about Jan fucking Maas this early in the morning?”

“Sure,” you say, “let’s talk about something else.”

Despite your comment, you both lapse into silence. You’re enraptured by Jamie’s blue eyes. You’ve never been able to study them this close before, and you want to take this opportunity to memorize every fleck of green. 

Jamie seems to have a similar thought, except his gaze flicks to your lips. 

“I have morning breath,” you tell him and he says, “Real men don’t give a shit, babe,” before leaning forward.

It’s softer than you’d expected, sweeter. 

It’s also strange to think that you’re making out with Jamie in bed, and that he’s the one who initiated it.

The thought is so absurd that you giggle, mid-kiss. Jamie breaks away and says, “Oi, there’s no way that was a shit kiss.”

“No,” you say between giggles, “it’s just weird that we’re doing this. Like, how are we supposed to look each other in the eye after?”

Jamie moves so he can look at you better, and you roll from your side to your back. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“Oh come on, we share a room and a bed, we kiss because I have all these sad feelings and you’re feeling a lot of emotions about the match, and then we have to work together after. It’s silly.”

Jamie cocks his head. “That’s what you think is happening?”

“Yes?” you say. None of this is going how it’s supposed to. “What do you think is happening?”

“I like you,” he says, and there is absolutely no mistaking his meaning. 

“Oh,” you reply in a small voice. “Since when?”

“Since before you started dating the twat. When Higgins introduced ya to the team.”

“That’s a fucking long time ago!” you exclaim. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Jamie rubs his face. “Yeah, ‘cept you showed up to work tellin’ everyone how you started dating the twat. And I ain’t a home wrecker.”

You groan. “Fuuuck. I literally only dated him to try to get over you.”

Jamie shoots up. “What?!”

“Yeah,” you say, “I’ve been like a little bit in love with you ever since you winked at me during that first promo I did.”

Jamie blows out a breath. “Okay. Think that’s enough talking. C’mere. We’re making out proper, like, then we’re going to breakfast.”

You grin as you climb onto his lap. 

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[penncilkid]

Today is March 28th, 2024.

It marks exactly one year since, on a whim, I joined a Discord call. I've referred to it as "Robocop Day" since discovering the date because I joined the call after watching Robocop for homework and decided "Fuck it, if they're still on call, why not join?"

Words cannot properly capture/express how that was one of the best decisions I could've made.

To sit and think about all the ways I have changed for the better in this year is absolutely insane sometimes. I was so nervous to join that night, I barely knew anyone in the Redacted fandom and had barely gotten to know anyone outside of Angie (shoutout to thefablefoxart, go check her out /gen). But in that moment, for whatever reason, my brain was like "Do it. Go join this call. At least give it a try." So I did— And promptly got roped into a multi-hour ramble about one of many Darlin OCs (/lh /pos).

This account would not be what it is without these people. Neither would my art, my writing, my channel, and more. There are so many ways I have grown and so many things I've been able to try in this year of knowing this group of people, and I cannot wait for all that's to come still. So, without further ado, I'm gonna put the people in this group chat on blast (lovingly /lh):

@latenightsleeper: Sleeper Beeper, as Cupid calls you, you are such a force to be reckoned with. You are elusive but nonetheless loved and cherished. You are an incredible storyteller, even if 99% of the time you're simply finding new ways to rip my heart to shreds. I know life kicks your ass more often than not (which is should stop doing, frankly /lh), but I hope you know how important you are to me and how I would rain hellfire at the drop of a hat for you. I've been very lucky to get to know someone like you, and I hope I get to continue gaining your lore, as you put it.

@cashandprizes: Miss Alexis Moonlight, it is no secret how much you have improved my quality of life. Even when you're fussing at me, I know it's out of love and it simply makes me a better person in the long run. Any time spent with you, be it online or face to face, is truly a blessing in more ways than one. I've said before and I'll say it again, you are someone who makes me feel incredibly safe and secured, especially on my harder days. And that is something I will never take for granted. You are such a visionary, even when you don't always give yourself credit for it. I'm always in awe of the things you manage to cook up, regardless of the form they take. I hope that someday I can repay you even a fraction of everything you've done for me.

@mr-laveau: Veau, candidate for the leader of the PK fanclub (alongside Frenchie and Lexi Moon if I'm not mistaken? /lh), it's no secret that I am one of your biggest cheerleaders. And I intend to maintain that title because you are incredible. You are an insanely talented artist, voice actor, and writer, and I don't care anyone else tries to convince you. You are also one of the kindest people I have met when it comes to people you care about/look out for. It's insane for me to think that this singular extended invitation could have allowed me a chance to get to know so many amazing people in the long run. I am so happy to have met you. You have helped me be self-indulgent with the things I make and have pushed me to not only go after the things I want, but be kinder to myself along the way. No amount of words I could give to you will ever encompass all that you mean to me.

And one bonus party:

@wingless-cupid: Cupid, you may not have been there for the creation of this group chat, but you are absolutely a core member of it now. You've been stuck with me for far longer than the rest of these guys, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna pass up on the opportunity to appreciate you and our friendship as well. Life is a bitch to you, but you keep pushing on and I'm so happy to have witnessed it all on the sidelines. Your creativity and execution of such is insane to see in the best way possible. Even if we're threatening each other with violence every other minute, I know that you have my back. And I hope you know I have yours as well.

So yeah. Who is this post for? Mostly me. But I also think everyone I've mentioned is amazing and worth checking out. Thanks for being in my life, guys /pos

#I'm typing this up days ahead of the 28th #And scheduling it as we speak #So if you're gonna fuss oh well /lh /pos #PK Rambles #No but real talk I love y'all and would burn the world down for you #I'm very glad something as strange as Robocop and audio roleplay brought us together /gen

[hoshiyoshis]

ballet slipper and watermelon ^^

ty lovely 💙 i hope ur having a nice day/night!! 💙

ballet slipper— with only one word, describe how you feel at this moment

mmmmm....................... thirsty. but i've got water dw its just allergies making me feel dried out :p

watermelon— have you ever had to reject anyone romantically? how did it go?

twice. both resulted in the eventual end of both of those friendships.

first time was my best friend in middle school who told me towards the end of eighth grade that i had a crush on him and i stupidly was a 13-14 year old with friends who were like... 17-18 and listened to them and told him "maybe in the future" (BIG fucking lie!!!) because i didn't know how else to handle it and i didn't like him in that way at all. guy ended up being pretty fucking sexist later on (claimed ppl w periods are just overreacting, among other things) + i'm pretty sure he made up a fake girlfriend to make me jealous? it didn't work lmao and i ended up losing touch after he changed schools. genuinely i didn't really miss him because our friendship had felt weird after all of that, but i knew his little sister (who stayed at our school) and she was sweet so <3 shoutout to her.

the other was like... idk maybe a month or two after my first breakup when i was 17, and i had someone who was interested in me and i Thought i liked them back? we sorta were going to date but barely an hour later i kept feeling gross about it so i told them i wasn't ready for a relationship of any sort. tbh it was probably doomed to fail because i was... very inexperienced with dating in general? so it feels like we didn't really do anything to work towards that sort of thing (but we were friends beforehand). eventually we stopped talking, especially after they guilted me for not wishing them a happy birthday the day-of (while i was on vacation with spotty internet and had openly stated that days before, which i know they saw). but they took it well though! told me they were glad i put my wellbeing first and didn't force myself into something i wasn't ready for.

outside of that, i don't think i have any other times i've like... been put in the position of rejecting someone. i think there was a time i might have been had things kept going down that route (i fully realized that they were asking me out on a date waaaay after the fact, but apparently in the moment did recognize that it felt date-like and didn't want that). apparently i'm doomed to only reject people or get rejected lol which is fine for rn since i'm good on dating for a bit <3 this doesn't apply to kpop men tho: hoshi u can ask me, random stranger who loves tigers, out /j

#hoshranghaes.asks #aria 🍓 #thank u again for the ask lovely i hope ur day treats you well <3

[monarchisms]

so three years ago, i drew some fanart for @strifesolution‘s post because i thought it was pretty funny. three years later, i decide to redraw that same art to see how much i’ve improved!

i also finally settled on a design for alfredo! thanks to his “pig of destiny“ jokes in stoneblock, i made him a zombified piglin :D

#achievement hunter #ahfanart #trevor collins #jack pattillo #gavin free #alfredo diaz #let's play minecraft #dusk boys #body horror tw #just a little bit #also: i gave gavin a rattlesnake tail :3 #shoutout to myself for only missing the date by one day #god this took so long #time well spent though! #e's art #mc redesign

[littlemissnoname13]

hii i wanted to request a draco/reader fic w the dynamic that 1 day they meet at a bar and have a 1 night stand, and then » 2 months later draco is at mungo's and runs into y/n who has just found out she is pregnant w his kid but she's scared to tell him. and he feels a connection to her that tells him she's carrying his child and he asks her out bc they kinda like each other. Pl do if your comfortable only tyia

Hi my nonnie! Thanks for requesting.🖤

This was so much fun to write. Especially the bar part. This is a long one so brace yourself. I hope you like it.

A very special shoutout to @mellifluousart for giving me helpful pointers for this fic. You are the best!

Terrible at Small Talk (D.Malfoy x Reader) 18+

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Warnings: some fluff smut, mature Language and themes, nsfw, drinking, penetrative sex, breeding kink, pregnancy, 18+

Word count: 2396

~~~~~~~~~~

You swirled what remained of your drink in your glass making the amber liquid spin round and round and round. 

Even after two whole hours waiting on a tall bar stool in a dead little muggle bar, and your date was still nowhere to be seen.

The previous hour had gone by pretty quickly in comparison to the first hour though. You'd been drinking whisky on the rocks and your insides were warming up little by little making the waiting game a tad bit more bearable. 

You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol but you chuckled to yourself thinking about what you had done in life to lead you there, in a strange little pub waiting for a boy you weren’t even sure was coming. 

“One more of these please.” You called out to the bartender, smiling politely and shaking your empty glass. 

“I’ll have what she’s having.” 

An all too familiar voice made all the hairs on your back stand up straight. Your goosebumps were probably highly visible from the back of your backless red dress. 

“Well, well, if it isn’t y/l/n in the flesh.” He muttered, sitting down on the bar stool next to you and you didn’t dare to turn to your side to look at him. 

You didn’t even need to. 

You knew who this voice belonged to and it sure as hell wasn’t your date.

“Well, Hello to you too, Malfoy.” You said, finally turning your head towards him. “I didn’t know you liked to frequent muggle bars on the weekends.” 

You hadn’t seen him after the wizarding war. He had gone off the grid. 

He still looked the same and yet, completely different. 

His suit was still all black but his jaw had gotten more chiseled, his hair remained the same but he now donned glasses. He still wore his silver rings and you could see what looked like a tattoo peeking out of his suit sleeves. 

“Nice glasses.” You blurted. 

“Nice hair.” He muttered, as the bartender handed you your drinks. He eyed you intently before taking a prolonged swig of his drink. “Although, I preferred it the way it was in school.” 

“So did I.” You smiled weakly at him, running your hands through your hair, suddenly feeling very conscious. 

“Why did you change it though?—I used to love your hair.” He cleared his throat and tried to backtrack from his sudden confession. “Not that you don’t look good now.”

You needed a fresh start after Hogwarts, the war and life in general but you didn’t think he needed to hear all that. 

“Wanted something new I guess.” You said in a very composed tone as you gulped down your beverage and asked the bartender to keep the drinks coming. 

He hummed and downed his drink matching your own speed. 

Soon enough, you had created a row of empty glasses at the counter. 

Both of you terrible at small talk. 

“It’s so strange seeing you of all people at a muggle bar.” You said, your voice slowly getting slurry with a hint of inebriation and a tinge of madness. 

He didn’t say a word, he simply blinked at you with a blankness in his stormy grey eyes, now hidden behind thick frames. 

“Well, I don’t think I am welcomed at most pubs around Diagon alley—not after the war anyway.” He muttered. “Besides, I could have asked you the same question.” 

“Well, if you must know, I got stood up.” You laughed. “Not that I wanted to come—my friends have been pushing me to go out there and meet people.”

He kept glaring at you as you kept babbling. His eyes secretly trailing to your bare back as he tried his hardest to ignore his blood rushing and his heart thumping. 

A few more glasses of whisky later, you found yourself walking to the nearest apparition point with him. 

And just as you tried to quicken your strides, you missed your footing but he caught firmly by the shoulder before you could hit the ground, face first. 

“Merlin! That was a close one.” You whispered softly as you wondered why his hands were still grasping your shoulders. 

Even after all these years, the smell of mint, and his expensive cologne remained the same; his eyes still conflicted. 

The warmth and the confidence from the alcohol made you lean in and capture his lips in yours. 

A slow, speculative kind of kiss. Like you were testing the waters; taking a small sip of tea to see if the temperature was alright. 

After you leaned away, he opened his eyes.

The conflict inside his eyes was now replaced by a full fledged hurricane of emotions. 

“C’mhere.” He said hoarsely as he grasped the hair on the back of your neck and pulled your face flush against his. 

His left hand held one of your legs and wrapped it around his torso—your clothed cunt making contact with the hardened bulge in his pants. 

By the time your eyes opened, Draco had already apparted you to the Malfoy manor. 

As soon as he laid you down on his bed, he hastily began working on his shirt buttons. 

With each button, you could see more and more of his ivory skin, his toned abdomen, the veins protruding along his forearm, his faded dark mark now covered with tattoos. 

You propped yourself up on your elbows on the bed while he leaned in for another kiss and you took this opportunity to remove the glasses that hid the vehemence in his eyes.

His lips soon made their way towards your earlobes and he began nipping and tugging with his teeth while his hands roamed underneath your dress.

“The things I want to do to you…….” 

“Draco….” You sighed as his fingers started to move up and down your clothed slit before pushing the fabric of your panty aside . 

“Gods, y/n…” he groaned as he slowly pushed a finger inside. “The things I want to do to this pretty little cunt….”

“Then do it..” You whined bucking your hips at him. “Please just do it…”

“This dress...” He growled into your ear as he added a second finger inside of you. “I've wanted to rip it off your body since the moment I laid my eyes on you…” 

His fingers kept moving in and out while his thumb kept rubbing circles into your clit. “You are so fucking wet darling.” 

“Mmmhmm..” you whimpered, barely managing to nod your head. 

“Tell me y/n…” he murmured against your slit; his tongue circling your swollen bud. “Who made you this wet?” 

“You did Draco..” you whimpered. “You did.” 

You were so close. 

So fucking close. 

Just when you felt like you were going to come all over his fingers he stopped and took his fingers out. 

“No please..don’t stop..” You whined, suddenly feeling empty without his fingers. 

“Take your clothes off.” He commanded, backing away and you instantly found yourself complying to his request in a matter of seconds.

No one had ever talked to you that way. 

This was dark, this was seductive, this had your cunt dripping with anticipation.

“Fuck y/n. You are a sight for sore eyes.” He murmured while he pulled your hips towards the edge of the bed. 

A small smirk played at his lips as his hands quickly undid the buckle of his belt to let himself out and you gasped at the sight of him. 

Rumors always traveled fast at Hogwarts. You’d heard stories about him—his length, the way he made girls scream. 

Only, they weren’t just rumors. 

Everything you’d heard about him was true. 

All the fucking rumors about his length, his size they were all true.

He moved his fist up and down his shaft and  lined himself up against your entrance. Your eyes met for a second. “Are you okay with this?” He asked and you caressed his cheeks and nodded. 

“I am more than okay Draco….” 

And just like that, he pushed himself inside of you, cursing under his breath. 

“Oh god….Draco…”

“The way you say my name y/n…” He grunted into the crook of your neck while your fingers entangled themselves into this hair. “It makes me want to fuck you harder…makes me want to fill you up with my come…”

“Draco Please…”

“Fuck y/n….don’t.. don’t say my name like that.. I won’t be able to control myself... 

“Then don’t…” You pleaded with your head snapped back and your back arched when his thumb found your clit. “I want to feel you cum Draco..I need to..” 

It was like these words were automatically slipping out of your lips as you reached closer and closer to your climax. 

“What are you doing to me….y/n…” he groaned as he fucked you harder and harder. “Why do you feel so fucking good…” 

“Draco..don’t stop..don’t stop till you are cumming for me..” you wrapped your legs around his torso allowing him a deeper angle. 

“Won’t stop…I won’t fucking stop till I fill you up..” 

Draco stayed true to his words. 

He didn’t stop till you were sore and leaking with his release. 

The both of you even woke up in the middle of the night for another round of rigorous sex and he silently thanked your date for pulling a no show that night. 

Now he could have you all to himself. Well, until the sun came up that is. 

When Draco woke up the next morning he tried to reach for you but you were long gone.

The only thing that remained was the smell of your perfume on his sheets and your stray earring on the floor. 

He slowly reached for the forgotten earring and held it in the palm of his hands. 

Sure, it was a one night stand but he sure as hell wanted another night with you. 

~~~~~~~

Two months had gone by and Draco found himself staring at your earrings on his nightstand every day. 

He was never the one to overthink about one night stands and yet, here he was, clasping onto your earring for dear life. 

After reminding himself to get a grip on himself, Draco buttoned up his shirt and made his way towards St. Mungo's hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. 

He’d been a regular donor for the hospital since the end of the wizarding war and visited the hospital every other month. 

Just like every other month, the hospital was terribly busy that day too.

But somewhere in between the hustle and bustle, somewhere in between the dissonance of sounds, the wind, the atmosphere he felt something different that particular day—Something familiar. 

He brushed the feeling off and finished up the paperwork in less than an hour before making a swift exit from the hospital. 

But every step he took away from St Mungos added to the inexplicable restlessness that crushed his insides. The feeling mimicked the feeling of missing a train he was supposed to catch. 

“Oh For fuck’s sake.” He muttered to himself before turning back around and sprinting his way back into the hospital, crashing into annoyed people that cursed at him along the way. 

He finally stopped running when he made it to a quiet corridor in the hospital. With his hand flat on his chest, Draco tried to catch his breath. 

Everything was silent for a minuscule second until he heard a voice coming from a room a few steps ahead of him. 

Draco knew he could recognise that voice anywhere in this whole entire planet. 

It was the same voice that had been haunting his mind and infiltrating his existence since that night at the bar. 

You had a worried expression on your pretty features as the healer kept talking to you. 

“Everything looks good y/n, your vitals, the baby.” Said the healer and you placed your hand lightly on your stomach. 

Draco didn’t even hear what the healer said next. The accelerating sound of his heart was too loud. 

Could it be?

Why didn’t you tell him? 

Maybe the baby wasn’t his. 

But why was he suddenly wishing it was—

“Draco?” You asked when you saw him standing outside the door. 

The way you uttered his name, softly with your voice slightly cracking, felt like the break of dawn after a long cold night—You were his daylight.

“Sorry—I was just um passing by..” He said, hesitantly prying the door open. 

“I’m sorry Mr. Malfoy, but you cannot be here unless you are family.” The healer said coldly, giving him a nod of disapproval. 

“I guess I’ll be on my way then.” Draco mumbled with his eyes never leaving yours. “It was good seeing you—”

“Wait.” You called out before he could walk away and he eyed you quizzically. “Draco, there’s something you need to know.” 

He held his breath and patiently waited for what you were doing to say next. 

You looked even more beautiful than you did the last time he saw you. Your cheeks were dewy, your eyes a bit glassy and his most basic instincts were telling him that he needed to protect you no matter what. He didn’t even hear what the healer said as she excused herself from the room. 

“Draco I’m—”

“I know.” He said softly as he let his finger tips trail the side of your face. “I heard everything.” 

“Not everything.” You said as you held his other hand and gently placed it on your stomach. 

Draco let out a sharp breath that he didn’t even realize he was holding back. 

It was like he’d caught the train that he was so desperately trying to catch. 

It was like he was finally headed home. 

“Merlin! Y/n.” He gasped as he instantly cupped your face in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I didn’t know what to tell you. I didn’t know how you’d react and I was terrified.” 

If only you knew just how happy he was. 

If only he knew just how much he wanted to care for you and the baby. 

If only you knew how he felt about you. 

“I’m here now.” He whispered and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. “And I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Thank you.” You murmured against his lips.

“Let me take you out y/n.” He murmured. “Let me take you to dinner tonight and we will figure the rest together.” 

~~~~

Draco/ general tag list: @maybesandohnos @justfangirlthingies @badslytherin @dlmmdl , @desiredmalfoy @wh0re4blaise @marrymetheonott @quacksonsssandtea @rvaldez7569 @Berriemafoy @Thegaudess @itchywitch33 @lunar0se10 @emma67 @savagelysarcasticslytherin @teawineaddict @fantasyfairysworld @trashyvicks @h0ggyw0ggyh0gwarts @l0vely-lupin @linasylveon @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dracomalfoyisindahouse @sycathorn-slush @lalunemoonstone @supermisunderstoodoceans @belladaises @riddleswh0r3crux @justreadingficsdontmindme @axdxis @97santoki @laceycallisto @haroldpotterson @thetipsysaquatch @darlingmalfoy @letsmariya @malfoysbitch @turn-to-page-394-please . Sorry if I missed anybody. I am so sleep deprived. 

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much love,

Vi

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco fanfiction #draco smut #draco x reader smut #draco x yn #draco x you #draco lucius malfoy #Draco

[sitp-recs]

The Foxing Ring by @vukovich

Harry/Draco (2021, Explicit, 24k)

Harry's got no magic, one good ear, no great dating prospects, and a nice little wand workshop. Draco's got too much magic, a history of biting off ears, no great dating prospects, and a growing fondness for wandmakers. And a very fetching tail.

“He watches a fox and a hound form an uneasy truce. One of them is orphaned, and one is wanted. One of them finds his own way, and the other is raised without mercy or kindness. One of them offers up his life for the other, and Harry knows down to his bones that the offer stands as long as he lives.”

I must start this bday rec by giving a MASSIVE shoutout to the lovely @sweet-s0rr0w who not only put this amazing fic on my radar but chose to do it right before Vukovich’s birthday which is what made me actually decide to read it sooner than I previously intended (spoiler alert: I did very little work yesterday because I just couldn’t put this down!) So thank you Lauren for knowing my fic tastes and always sharing the new goodies you come across with me!

And oh my heart, what a cool little gem this is. I was immediately fascinated by the combination of such unique premises with light, witty, gently indulgent and romantic atmosphere that made me smile from beginning to end. I’m so utterly charmed by Harry and Draco here - they’re full of character and wit, and Vokuvich establishes delightful dynamics with inventive plot lines and clever dialogue that will pull you right into their little world.

I was initially intrigued by the tags - especially squib Harry - but it all comes together perfectly and the characters are so relatable, perceptive and human. I’m especially touched by how lost Harry feels at the beginning, compared to being seen by Draco afterwards. What the fluff*, my heart just melted! I really love that this fic has a tone and pacing unlike anything I’ve read lately; there were many times where I caught myself delightfully surprised by a clever line, emotional moment or interesting approach, and the “fur kink squick dilemma” is now my favorite tag!

Speaking of, I love how effortlessly sensual this fic gets, in a carefully soothing, comforting way? Considering the bold choices this balance required skill and intent, and I’m impressed by how Vukovich managed to establish tentative flirting, curious and shy and straightforward, laced with self-indulgent kink, light enough not to disturb the narrative, but present enough to be addressed openly, not in a blink-and-you’ll miss-it way (yes hello I’m still not over the A+ scorching and rewarding smut!! 🔥)

This is a gorgeous slice-of-life fic that tells a 50k story in 20k but feels more like 10k and next thing you know you’re left mourning those characters and vibes. I couldn’t have asked for a better read yesterday so thanks for sharing this Vukovich! I hope you’ve had an amazing day, and I can’t wait to check your other works!

Read on AO3

#happy birthday vukovich! #drarry fic rec #fave

[let-me-write-shit]

You writing is soo cool, you're amazing! I don't know if you are taking requests, but what about a famous Y/N and meets professor Harry and he is like "I don't want to teach you, you are famous" and she is like "you are going to teach me and fall in love with me😏" and well, idk the idea just came to my mind and I thought of you to write it hahaha. Love your writing, keep doing it 'cause you are great!

 Word Count: 9,443 LONG AS SHIIIIT

WARNING: FILTHY SMUT!!!!!!!! (I put ******** before and after the smut so you can skip if you’d like

A/N: Thank you SOO much to @mylittleangel9403 for this request and I’m SOOOO sorry it took so long. Turned out a lot longer than I anticipated. Not sure if you wanted this to be smutty, but I just couldn’t help myself. Also, shoutout to @gwenlovesharrystyles for the help on this imagine! Much appreciated!!Enjoy!

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

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

Professor Styles

“Ma’am, respectfully, I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Harry leaned forward in his chair, fingertips pressed together, aware of the large presence that sat beside him, his voice almost a whisper. “We’re already several classes deep, and as you know, my class is very difficult. She’ll be at a disadvantage going in, not to mention the students already in my class. The distraction isn’t fair for them.”

“Professor Styles, I don’t need to tell you how much this means to our University. I understand your concern, and I have every faith in you to help miss Y/L/N catch up to speed and keep your students in-check.”

He could feel the eyes of the famous singer on him as she uncrossed her legs and sat straighter in her chair. In his peripheral, he could see her burly manager, who stood in the back against a wall, take a step closer behind them like a bodyguard waiting to pounce. But for some reason, Harry had the distinct impression that Y/N could do without protection. He thought she was tough enough.

“Sir,” Y/N spoke softly and respectfully. Harry turned, seeing a reflection of yellow in her eyes as the sun shone through the window onto them, and he couldn’t help but think she was putting on an act for the Dean. “I know that the circumstances are...unusual. But, I promise I will do everything in my power to not cause any distraction in your class. I’ll sit in the back if that helps. Whatever it takes.”

The young professor took a deep breath, taking in her words. He looked around the room in thought, feeling everyone’s attention on him all the while. Some of the rumors about her seemed to ring true. Y/N had this energy about her that made it difficult to focus or think straight. She hardly took her eyes off of him throughout this entire meeting.

Harry sighed in defeat and nodded, “Alright. I trust she’ll be given the syllabus and information on everything she’ll need for my class?” he asked the Dean.

But before the Dean could respond, Y/N chirped, “I’ve already gotten it and I’m prepared to start next week.”

“Well, that’s settled, then,” the Dean grinned, victoriously, “Welcome to our school, Miss Y/L/N. Unless you have any more questions, you are free to go.”

Y/N stood up with a smile, followed by the Dean and professor. She stuck out a hand and shook them, saying, “Thank you so much. I look forward to starting on Tuesday.”

Her burly manager opened the door for her and she began to make her way out. And as Harry collected his things to leave, the Dean quipped, “Oh, Professor Styles. Before you head to your next class, I’d like to speak to you for a moment.”

Harry watched as Y/N closed the door behind her, almost certain he saw a wink, before setting his things back down and taking a seat once more. He listened as the Dean encouraged him to do all that he can to ensure Y/N had a good experience here, explaining how big of a deal this was and how Y/N taking his class might encourage more students to enroll.

Harry listened, respectfully, but wanted nothing more than to roll his eyes. It annoyed him that he was expected to baby Y/N and bend to her will solely because she was a rich and famous singer, and he refused to play a part in that. If she wanted success in his class, she would need to earn it just like the rest of his students.

When they finished their conversation, he was already running late for his next class. Again, he collected his things and made his way out of the office. As he speed-walked through the administration, he was surprised to see Y/N still there, sat on a chair beside her burly manager, talking. When she noticed him, she instantly jumped to her feet and raced up to him.

“Hey,” she said, simply, keeping his pace as they continued out of the administration building and into the main campus.

“I’m running late to my next class, Miss Y/L/N. Did you have a question, or can this wait?”

Her voice was so flippant that it bordered arrogance, “Just wanted to thank you again for letting me join your class this late into the semester.”

“It’s not me you should thank. I don’t agree with it and I won’t baby you. You’ve got a lot of catching up to do. I suggest you start reading your books so you’re not lost in my next class. Your classmates have worked hard to get to where they are and I’d hate for you to be the reason for a halt in their progress.”

“I think you’ll find that not to be the case.”

She was so smug that it caught him off guard. The looming of her large manager two paces behind him as they hustled down the walkway was even more noticeable now, along with the many whispers and stares as they continued. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, perplexed.

He debated whether to ask, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. Not wanting to show any sign of weakness or that he’d entertain her malarky. But his curiosity got the better of him.

“Miss Y/L/N, why are you taking my class?”

“Why not?” she smirked in response.

He sighed, annoyed that he was even going along with this, “We both know you don’t need to go to school, especially for Advanced Musical Theory. Why are you only taking my class?”

Her voice was softer and more sincere this time as she spoke, “I’ve always been interested in Music Theory and wanted to take it before my career kicked off. And I heard you were one of the best teachers in your field.”

For a split second, in that moment of sincerity, he thought he might have just seen her, the real her, behind all the fame and money and act. But her innocence faltered as she quickly shuffled in front of him, making Harry fumble to a stop.

Her eyes were more seductive now as she hushed, “Besides, I heard about how hot you were and I needed to see it for myself. And I’m not disappointed,” she looked at him through her eyelashes.

Harry could feel the warmth rise to his cheeks, extremely aware of her manager’s presence behind him and the few students nearby, staring. He was sure his face was bright red right now as Y/N’s smirk only seemed to grow.

Harry was aware of his reputation around campus for being the ‘hot teacher’. He wasn’t a stranger to the gossip or the occasional student trying to make a pass at him. And, honestly, his ego enjoyed it. But he’d never crossed that line with a student before and she would be no exception.

He did his best to compose himself and continued past her, Y/N following behind, “I’ll ignore that and just give you fair warning,” he started, “My class is hard and you will not be given special treatment just because you’re famous. I promised the dean I’d get you caught up, and I will. Your class is every Tuesday, and you can meet me in my office after each lesson for an hour for the next few weeks until we get you up-to-date on what you’ve missed. I will not play into your games.”

“Yes, Sir,” she pouted, teasingly, and again, jumped in front of him, holding a hand out and smiling, “Looking forward to next Tuesday.”

Harry looked at her suspiciously, pausing for a moment before ultimately giving in and taking her hand in his. But before he could respond, she pulled herself closer to him. So close that she was practically whispering in his ear.

“But just to warn you, not only will I ace your class, but by the end of the semester, I’ll make you call in love with me.”

Her breath was so hot and her words were so unexpected that he stood there, stunned, while she pulled away, winked, and walked back towards her bodyguard, heading back from where they just came from. She waved to a few students that recognized her, and she looked back once to blow a discreet kiss before she rounded a corner and was out of sight.

Harry watched after her, stunned at her assertiveness while people were watching. But he shook it off and continued to his class, mentally preparing himself to break the news to his students.

The anxiety in the week leading up to the start of Y/N’s first official day in Professor Styles’ class was becoming more frequently accompanied by the Dean’s constant checking in on him to make sure everything was ready, more students visiting or showing up to class, and even more excited whispers. Harry, on the other hand, did his best to push it aside, not getting what all the fuss was about.

He had done his best to prepare his students for their newly joined classmate, even sending out mass reminder emails to those in his class to please be courteous and warning them to avoid distraction. But when he pulled up to the school that day, he noticed more students than normal just hanging around, scanning all over campus like they were scouting for something.

Harry quickly realized that they were waiting to catch a glimpse at the famous singer and he snorted, rolling his eyes. Kids were so predictable. He slipped his lanyard with his ID around his neck, grabbed hold of his coffee and briefcase, and got out of his car, heading towards his classroom.

The Professor smiled and nodded at the students that greeted him in the hallway, proud that he knew each of them by name, continuing to his class. He knew his students would already be there, by now. Harry was usually always a few minutes late and he assumed that it gave his students more than enough time to ogle their new addition to the class.

But, when Harry rounded the corner and saw Y/N leaning up against the wall, arms crossed and alone, his nerves increased.

“Harry,” Y/N beamed when she spotted him, practically skipping over to him.

Harry raised his eyebrows, clearing his throat, “It’s Professor Styles,” he warned, earning a sarcastic nod while he continued, “Why are you not in class?”

“I thought we could go in together since I’m new.”

“I’m your professor, not your babysitter. Go on in next time,” he said as they approached the door. Before turning the knob, he paused and faced her, “While you’re here, I’ll explain to you what I explained to them on the first day. I’m a pretty easy-going teacher because I know how hard this class can be. You can eat in my class, you can have your phones out, you can come in wearing pajamas, I don’t care. However, the biggest rule in my class is that you treat people with kindness. We do not judge in this class. We don’t interrupt people or talk over others, we don’t make others feel inferior. My class is a safe space for people to be their authentic selves and we respect that. Can you do that?”

Y/N’s stance softened and she grinned, nodding, “Yes. I can do that.”

“Good,” Harry nodded, “I’d like you to take a seat towards the back of the class for today if you don’t mind. I’d rather they pay attention to me than the back of your head.”

“Whatever you say, Professor,” Y/N exaggerated his title, her lips twitching up in a lopsided smile.

He looked down at her for a moment, narrowing his eyes, trying to size her up, before he gave in and turned the knob to his class. The buzz from his students loudly chattering amongst each other instantly stopped when he walked in, closely followed by the singer. Harry vaguely noticed that not only was every single one of his students present, but they all looked slightly more put-together than normal. He snorted under his breath, dropping his briefcase on his desk, taking a sip from his coffee cup, and placing that down, as well.

“Morning!” He called out, earning a chorus of greetings in return. He gestured towards Y/N who was making her way up the steps towards the back of the class, “I’m sure you all know who this is. We are incredibly lucky to welcome Y/N in joining us this year.”

Y/N stopped climbing the steps to smile brightly and wave obscurely at everyone, “Hi!”

Harry nodded towards her to keep moving. She rolled her eyes, playfully, and continued while he explained, “I know we’re all excited to have her here, but I want to remind everyone that while we’re in the room, we’re all students, and that includes Y/N. Let’s all focus on what we’re here for, so we don’t get lost when mid-terms get here, yeah?”

After another muttering of agreeance, Harry noticed Y/N getting settled in the back and he nodded, starting the lecture, “Okay, what I’d like to do is a one-minute warm-up on today’s exploration on duple and triple meter. So, I need everyone to stand up.”

The rustling of chairs echoed and screeched as students got to their feet. Soon, they were marching along to Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds by The Beatles, everyone laughing and feet stomping on the ground. He felt proud, seeing all the smiling, attentive faces in his direction and happy that throughout the lesson, nearly everyone had seemed to grasp everything that he was saying.

But, each time he glanced up in Y/N’s direction, he noticed that not only had she not even so much as picked up a pencil or opened her laptop, she had not looked away from him even once. He made a mental note to reprimand her after class and continued on.

When the lesson came to an end, Harry thanked the class for their cooperation and the students began to pack up their belongings. He watched as Y/N was met by a group of kids who were considered to be more ‘popular’ around campus. He saw her friendly smiles, but could barely hear her over the noise.

Once Harry managed to gather his things and toss his now-empty coffee cup in the trash, he approached the group, earning a pleasant round of hello’s by the students. One of the girls, Jesse, made sure to bat her eyelashes a little more and lean closer than necessary as she spoke.

“Great lesson today, Professor Styles. I did have a few questions about musical texture and was wondering if we could meet privately so I could get some more clarity on that?” she asked, twisting a lock of hair around her fingers.

Harry was used to Jesse’s incessant attempts at flirting with him and getting him alone, but he never took the bait, “I’m sorry, Jesse, I have no free office hours available, right now. But please shoot me an email with all of your questions and I’ll gladly help you out.” He heard sniggering from her friends as her face shifted into disappointment and he turned to Y/N, “Miss Y/L/N, when you’re done here, please meet me in my office so I can get you caught up.”

“Yes, Professor, I’ll be right there.”

He waited twenty minutes before he finally heard a knock on the door. He had half a mind to ignore it and let her stand out there, annoyed that he was wasting time trying to help an entitled celebrity who clearly had no interest in his class. What was the point? But, he thought back to the Dean, and reluctantly made his way to the door.

“Your students seem to really like you,” she confidently walked in, taking a seat on top of his desk and tossing her bag on one of the chairs, crossing her legs. “Especially that girl, what’s her name? Jesse?”

Harry blinked and slightly shook her head back before closing the door and rounding the desk she sat on towards his chair, not bothering to give the statement a response. But that didn’t stop her from continuing, “She’s like, in love with you. Well, maybe not in love. But you definitely make her horny.”

“Y/N!” You shoot back at the brassiness.

“She’s hot, I’ll give her that. But she’s definitely got that ‘daddy money’ vibe to her. She and her friends invited me to a party next weekend. And that kid, Mark, gave me his number. He’s pretty hot, too. Looks like some kind of jock.”

Harry nodded, shuffling his papers, “He’s here on a full-ride soccer scholarship.”

“Damn, I’m good,” Y/N leaned back, pressing her palms flat against the top of his desk, impressed with herself.

Harry looked up at her, an eyebrow raised. He wished he could say that her confidence astounded him, but honestly, he wasn’t that surprised. He could hazard a guess that her success was probably all handed to her. She joked about another student being given ‘daddy’s money’, but if he had to guess, she was probably the same.

He set the stack of papers down beside where she sat on his desk and looked up at her with a sigh, “Miss Y/L/N, my desk is not a chair. Please have a seat.”

She slithered down off the desk and plopped in a chair opposite him, scooting it closer and crossing her arms on the top, waiting for him to speak.

He relaxed his shoulders and continued, “You didn’t participate much in class today.”

“Well, you told me not to be a distraction.”

“Yes, but you’re still a part of the class. I expect more participation from you in the next class. And that includes note-taking. You won’t pass my class from memory. For now, I need to get you caught up.

Harry spent the next hour trying to get her caught up on the very first day of his class, which she interrupted every ten minutes, or so, going off-topic or asking very personal questions like ‘do you have a girlfriend?’ or ‘how many students have you been with?’ None of which he answered. When there were about ten minutes left in their time together, Y/N interrupted for the eighth time that hour and Harry groaned, unsure that she had retained any of the information he had provided her so far.

“What made you want to do this? Teach Musical Theory?”

He looked up at her and paused for a moment and she stared at him, her head cocked to the side. She looked genuinely interested, and it wasn’t often that he got asked these questions. He decided he’d entertain her, just this once.

Harry slid the paperwork away from him and sat back in his seat, “I’ve just always been interested in music since I was a kid.”

“Yeah, so have I. That’s why I became a musician. There are so many jobs in the musical field, why music theory?”

“Well, I am a musician. Not as big as you, obviously, but I have a small band and we play gigs around town. But the more I deep dove into music and the history behind it, the more I got into musical theory. It was a hobby and a passion before it was a career. And I guess I just wanted to show people how fun and interesting it could be.”

Y/N nodded, seeming content with his answer before saying, “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re a good teacher.”

“You’ve only been in one class,” he chuckled, sitting up again and straightening out his papers once more.

She giggled, “Yes, but it doesn’t take long to know when a teacher is good or not. I see the way you interact with your students and hear the way they talk about you. Everyone seems to love you. It’s part of the reason why I chose to come here.”

“My reputation precedes me?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Something like that,” she grinned, before softly speaking, “You know, we’re not all that different, you and I. I’ve been passionate about music for as long as I remember,” she laughed and said, “I remember when I was seven years old my mom took me to the library and I must have read at least six books, cover to cover, about Chopin. I knew everything about him and even named my pet rabbit after him. Everyone thought I was crazy.”

“Classical music?” Harry questioned, surprised.

She nodded, sitting up, “I’ve played piano since I was two.”

Harry pursed his lips, nodding his head, “Never judge a book by its cover.”

They stared at each other for a moment, silence filling the room. She looked more innocuous now; harmless as she sat with one leg crossed over the other. By this small conversation she had, she could see bits of himself in her eyes and it made him bring his guard down. For a moment, he was fascinated.

But her expression changed, more curious, as she asked, “So, how many lucky girls get the chance to have this one-on-one time with hottie Professor Styles?”

Harry sighed, rubbing his temples, “You exhaust me.”

“Or guys, I’m not judging,” she shrugged, “Though that would totally suck for Jesse. She’s really crushing.”

“I’ve never dated a student and I never will,” he said blandly.

“Never say never,” she smirked, “Why not?”

“Because they’re kids and it’s inappropriate.”

“Kids?” she snorted, “You’re barely four years older than most of your students. And everyone is of legal age.”

“I am not having this conversation with you,” he said, packing his things, “Our time is up. I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you in class next week.”

She grinned, gathering her things together and following him towards the door. As he reached for the door handle, she quickly put a hand on top of his, stopping him from turning it and making him look down at her as she said, “Don’t forget, Professor. Never say never.”

He watched as she opened the door and slipped out, turning her head once to wink back at him before she rounded a corner.

Harry found himself nervous and somehow anxious for the following week to arrive. It was the first time for years he had gotten there before any of his students. Every time the door opened and a student arrived, surprised by his early presence, he noticed he would jump and whip his head in the direction of the door. He tried to tell himself that he was just jittery or had too much coffee this morning, but he knew that wasn’t the reason.

When Y/N walked through the door, he felt his heart start to race.

“Good morning, Professor,” she smirked at him as she made her way up the steps towards the back of the class.

He nodded but didn’t respond. He felt stupid for not knowing what to say. There were so many options; hi, hello, how are you? Nothing. Harry watched out of the corner of her eye as she made a dramatic show of pulling out a notebook and a pen, sitting back in her chair and propping her legs up on the desk, making her short skirt slip up her thigh even more, waiting while she tapped her pen on the paper while the other arm was crossed over her stomach and her thumb grazed against her mouth.

He shook his head, pretending to search his briefcase for something as more students started to arrive, annoyed at himself for letting her get to him. In his four years of teaching, this had never been a problem before. How was she doing it?

Y/N waved as the group of kids she was seen talking to at the end of the last class squeezed in and they all excitedly waved back, making their way back to the seats in the row in front of her, spinning in their seats to talk. He wondered what they were talking about each time he saw her laugh or look down at him and hold eye contact.

The lecture started smoothly. He had them do another goofy exercise to get them ready for the class and was able to keep everyone’s attention as he explained notes and scales. Harry noticed the singer scribbling down in her notebook and was relieved to see she was taking notes this time. But what shocked him, even more, was her participation. The Professor, although known to make teaching and learning fun, was also known to ask a lot of hard questions throughout the class. Most, of which, the students rarely knew the answers to. That’s why he was surprised to see Y/N’s hand raised after nearly every question he asked, and even more taken back when her answers were right. Every single time.

Students began to become amused, automatically looking in between the two when a question would arise, and giggling at the incredulous expression on his face when she had, yet again, gotten the answer right. If he didn’t know any better, he would bet that by next week the class would turn it into some kind of a drinking game. He could have sworn he saw Y/N giggle under her breath and even blow a kiss.

After class, once again, Y/N was grouped on the steps by the rows of desks with Jesse, Mark, and their other friends. Y/N would twirl her hair and smile towards Mark and seemed to have him wrapped around her finger, but Harry also noticed how she’d look over Mark’s shoulder at him and bite her lip. She knew he’d be watching, and he hated himself for it.

Quickly, he packed his things and left the room, heading to his office to wait for her there, wondering what they were talking about. He closed the office door behind him, tossed his briefcase on the floor beside the paper shredder, and decided against turning the lights on. He blamed it on a splitting migraine, but it was really because there were too many intrusive thoughts running through his mind that he was doing everything he could to ease it, including pacing the room.

The attempts, however futile, were short lived. Minutes later there was a soft knock on the door and Y/N emerged, closing the door behind her, strutting right past him, and plopping on top of his desk again.

“How was that for participation, Harry?” she asked, propping a foot on the arm of his chair which made her skirt shimmy up her thigh just enough that if he were to look, he was sure he’d be able to see what she was wearing underneath.

He took a gulp and fought hard not to look down, lightly pushing her leg off of the arm of his chair so that both of her legs now hung down, taking a seat and crossing his arms, “It’s Professor Styles, and you did very well in class today, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Told you that I’d be a good student,” but her smile turned devilish as she spread her legs apart further and bent down closer to him, “But I can be bad if you’d like.”

“Please get off my desk and take a seat, Y/N. We’ve still got a lot of catching up to do.”

“Whatever you say, Professor,” she exaggerated, slowly slipping off of his desk and rounding to the other side.

Again, Harry tried his best to catch her up on lessons she missed, but it hardly seemed to get anywhere with Y/N’s constant interruption of inconsequential questions and arbitrary thoughts that seemed to almost pour out of her mouth without thought. He couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath a few times. She wasn’t boring, he’ll give her that much.

The more she fought against his attempts at teaching her, the more he realized that they weren’t going to get anywhere unless he gave her a little of what she wanted. So when she asked, “Do you have a girlfriend?” he sighed and ran his finger through his hair, giving in.

“No, I don’t. And why do you insist on coming to these meetings if you aren’t going to pay attention?”

“I am paying attention. You were talking about themes and motives of the piano and violin in Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony,” she said, confidently, crossing her arms, “I just think that it would be easier to come to class and learn if I knew my teacher a little better.”

He rolled his eyes at this attempt, but a smile crept on his face anyway, “What do you want to know?”

She smiled, sitting up, eagerly, “Well, it’s good to know you’re single. When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

He sighed, uncertain why he was even taking part in this conversation, “A little over a year.”

“And you haven’t tried again since?”

He shrugged, “I’ve been busy.”

“Or you were heartbroken.”

The response stung a little. She was right. And that annoyed him even more. How did she do this? Get under his skin so easily? Instead of answering that, he retorted with, “Well, what about you? You’re obviously single, otherwise, you wouldn’t be flirting so much with your professor or the soccer star.”

Her smirk stretched wider, “Oh, are we jealous of Mike?”

He scoffed, grabbing the few pieces of paper off of his desk and attempting to organize it in the side filing cabinet, “No, I’m not jealous of a student.”

“Mhmm. Well, for your information we were just talking about the party they’re having this weekend.”

He tried his best to look confused, although he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that party since she mentioned it last week, “Is that so?”

“Yeah, it’s on Saturday. Not sure if I’m going yet. I’m sure my manager and PR would have my head if I was caught getting sloppy at a college party. Not good for the image,” she whispered, rolling her eyes.

He shrugged, “College parties aren’t all that great, anyway.”

“I’m sure,” she said sarcastically, “Anyway, I have a concert the night before, so I’m usually exhausted by the next day. You should come.”

“To your concert?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow, skeptically, “Unless you don’t like my music?”

Harry shrugged, “I haven’t really heard much of it,” he lied, “but my sister’s a big fan.”

“Well, I’ll put you down for a plus-one. As long as it’s just your sister.”

Harry felt a lump beginning to form in his throat and he shook his head, “I already have plans for Friday. But thanks, anyway.”

She shook her head, nonchalantly, “Well, offer still stands if your plans fall through.”

He tried his best to reroute the conversation back on topic and was thankful that she seemed to finally go along with it. But as it neared the end of the hour, he felt her eyes on his face more and more. He looked up in the middle of his sentence and froze when he saw her eyes on his. She seemed entranced and almost out of it. And something seemed to pull him into the same trance as her.

It was the first good look at her that he had gotten since their first meeting. Her skin looked soft and her eyes sparkled when the sun’s rays shone on them at just the right angle. He hadn’t noticed until now that the bridge of her nose was slightly elongated and somehow endearing. And her lips. Those lips.

Y/N shook her head and stood up. It was the first time that she seemed to be caught off guard, and that stroked his ego a bit. He glanced down at his watch and noticed that they had run overtime and he gasped. She seemed to realize, too. Hurriedly, they both began to collect their things, but in the frenzy, she accidentally flicked her pen off the desk and it ricocheted on his side, landing on the floor near his briefcase.

“Oh!” he heard her mutter, rounding the desk where they both hastily attempted to grab it.

Harry was the first to grab it and as they both stood up, they were face to face with each other, inches away. They froze, again, unable to move. He saw something in her eyes that he hadn’t seen before; nervousness. Y/N was always such a confident force, and to see her any less than that admittedly made him gratified, like he had obtained a victory. But he, himself, was losing the battle. She was breaking him down one wink at a time, and he had never felt so weak in his life.

He could feel the strain of his desire pulling him closer towards her, the gloss on her lips looked enticing. If no one stopped him soon, he wasn’t sure if he could hold off much longer. He saw her eyes begin to flutter shut as the gap between them closed. Her sweet, minty breath swirled in front of his lips, he could almost taste it. And then a loud knock on the door echoed around his office.

Y/N flew against the wall while Harry awkwardly knocked his elbow against the back filing cabinet just as Jesse haughtily belted into the room. Her wide smile slowly screwed up into trepidation at the awkward tension that filled the room as the professor and singer avoided eye contact with each other.

“Jesse!” Harry quickly spoke, “What can I help you with?”

“I’m sorry, I thought you’d be finished. I just had a few questions about the essay, but I can just email you.”

“No, no, it’s fine, come in. Y/N was just on her way out.”

“Okay, cool,” Jesse smiled, stepping in further and placing her things on the chair opposite his desk.

Harry watched as the two girls exchanged friendly smiles, but he could see the slight embarrassment behind Y/N’s as she made her way towards the door.

“Don’t forget about this weekend!” Jesse called out after her, “I’ve never seen Mark so excited for a party before.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Y/N faked a laugh, sharing one last concerned look with Harry before closing the door behind her on the way out.

All week he found himself analyzing all of the occurrences that led up to him and Y/N almost kissing. He debated his sentiments, trying to logic every feeling of vulnerability and affection away with a simple explanation. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to pay attention to his work, constantly stumbling over his words of forgetting what he was talking about. When his class ended early on Friday afternoon and he sat in silence in his apartment, he stared at the blank television screen, contemplating whether or not he should take up her offer to attend her concert.

He paced the floor, opened and closed the fridge, tried to scroll through his social media apps, or read a book, anything to keep her mind off of her. He picked his phone up and stared at the home screen for a few minutes, constantly unlocking it when it got dark. With a final sigh, he opened it once more and dialed a number, putting it up to her ear.

“Hello, ya nimrod. What’s going on?” He heard his sister’s voice ring through the other end.

“How do you feel about going to a Y/N Y/L/N concert tonight?”

“You serious? Tonight? Bloody hell, yeah, I’ll go!”

“I’ll pick you up in two hours.”

Time only seemed to drag for Harry, left with nothing but his thoughts. It was enough time to go back and forth on whether or not he was making the right decision. Ultimately, he decided to go. He had already invited Gemma and he would feel guilty for bailing after getting her hopes up.

The sun was beginning to set and Gemma was singing loudly to Y/N’s lyrics in the passenger seat beside him. His palms were sweaty, gripped tight against the steering wheel. As the song ended, Gemma turned the volume down and turned to her younger brother.

“How did you get Y/N Y/L/N tickets, anyway? I didn’t know you listened to her like that.”

“I don’t, really. I mean, I’ve heard a few songs. But she’s my student and invited us to come.”

“She’s your student?” Gemma laughed, amused, “Cut the shit, Harry. How? Did you win them on the radio or something?”

“I’m serious. She’s taking my class.”

“What?” Gemma gasped, “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t think to.”

“You didn’t think to tell me that one of my favorite singers is a student of yours?” Gemma clarified. Eyebrows furrowed, she sat back and huffed, “Some brother you are.”

“Hey, now! I’m bringing you to her concert, aren’t I?”

The walk up to the ticket booth was one of the most humiliating things he had ever experienced as he uncomfortably explained who he was and that he was invited by the singer, herself. It took two people and a member of her staff to vouch for him before he and his sister were escorted through the venue and entered the pain event area through a private entrance that led them towards a VIP barricade towards the front of the stage. Thousands of screaming fans surrounded them, and Gemma looked around, shocked at the scene.

“This is insane!” Gemma shouted in his ear, bouncing on the balls of her toes.

Harry had to admit, it was pretty cool to see all of these people here for Y/N. He felt a sort of pride for her that he wasn’t quite expecting. And it didn’t take long for the lights to dim and the music to start.

He heard her before he saw her, and he felt his heart start to race again. He tried to play it off by the screams and the thumping bass, but when she finally came into view, he felt like he had been bolted to the floor, unable to move or talk or even smile. He was just stunned. Seeing her on stage was surreal. He knew of her, first, but it was hard for him to dissociate ‘student’ Y/N from ‘famous’ Y/N.

When they caught eyes and she realized he had come, a smile stretched across her face behind the microphone. He couldn’t help but mirror her, his shoulders relaxing as he managed a gentle wave. She walked closer to them on the stage, singing down at them, and he could hear his sister repeating ‘Oh my god, oh my god’ beside him as Y/N waved back in their direction.

Y/N was talented, there was no denying it. And the way that she interacted with her fans, you could tell that she was grateful for every second of it. It was touching. She was knocking down his assumptions about her little bit by little bit. He always thought that she’d be a spoiled, ungrateful celebrity, but that seemed to be completely false.

By the end of the concert, he had eased up and began to jump around, goofily, with his sister while Y/N watched, dancing around on stage, laughing and singing. Finally, the burly manager he had seen on the first day of their meeting with the Dean had approached him and his sister, informing them that they were invited backstage and to follow him.

His nerves began to rise in his chest again as they wove down several corridors until eventually, they stood before a door with Y/N’s name taped on it. The manager knocked loudly and waited a moment before they heard her voice on the other side call out, “Come in!”

With a turn of the knob, Y/N was now seen. She was in a new, more casual change of clothes and her hair was now up, but with visible beads of sweat lining her forehead and neck, she took a long swig of water.

“Hi!” she called, capping her drink and beckoning the two in, “Come in, come in! I’m so glad you came!”

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you,” Gemma tip-toed closer to her, smiling coyly as the door was closed behind them.

“It’s nice to meet you, too!” Y/N grinned, giving Gemma a much-wanted hug, “Please tell me you’re Harry’s sister.”

“Yes, I’m Gemma, his older sister.”

“Oh, thank god. I was worried he’d bring a date,” Y/N said, boldly, “He’s been playing hard-to-get.”

“You’re interested in my brother?” Gemma asked, astounded, “You’re way out of his league.”

Harry’s mouth fell open as Y/N laughed, “Yeah, and you’d think that’d be enough for him, wouldn’t you? But apparently he’s got standards,” she hyperbolized, rolling her eyes.

For an hour, Harry watched and laughed as Y/N and his sister talked and got to know each other more. They made jokes at his expense, and exchanged stories from their childhoods, shocked by how similar they seemed.

“You grew up around here, right?” Gemma asked the singer, taking a sip from her second beer of the night.

Y/N nodded, “Yeah, about fifteen minutes from here.” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, knowing the only residential area in a fifteen-mile radius wasn’t exactly known to be the best neighborhood. Y/N seemed to gather his thoughts, further explaining, “It wasn’t always easy. My siblings and I were cramped in a two bedroom apartment and we didn’t have our own phones until well into our teens. I missed out on a lot growing up, but my parents did their best. We had everything we needed. I was lucky to be able to get all this and get them out of that apartment. My parents deserved a big house and a yard. I owed them that much.”

“How did you do it? How did you get to this point?” Harry asked, astounded.

Y/N shrugged, “Right place, right time. I was found singing at the mall for a small gig at a Christmas event. The rest is hard work and history.”

Harry shook his head, speechless. He felt guilty for passing judgment on her before, assuming that it was all handed to her and that she had got her start because of her parents' connections. She was self-made, smart, and deserving of every bit of success that came her way.

After one more round of beers, it was getting time for them to leave. Harry could see the excitement in her sister’s eyes start to be replaced by fatigue, and as much as he wanted to stay and talk some more, he knew he had to get a jump start on grading papers.

He set his empty bottle of beer down and Y/N frowned, “Time to go?”

“Yeah, should probably head out,” Harry nodded, pausing for a moment and taking in the frown on her face. He didn’t have time to think before he blurted out, “Want to join us for the ride?”

Her eyebrows raised and her lips twitched up into a smile, “Yeah, sure.”

Gemma let Y/N take the passenger seat and Harry felt tense as he drove, hand shifting the gears right beside her leg. He smiled every time he heard her laugh, though he couldn’t quite pay attention to what the girls were talking about. He was able to gather that they exchanged phone numbers before he reached Gemma’s house. His sister gave them both kisses on the cheek before bounding up the steps to her home.

The silence was deafening and Harry was certain she could hear him gulp as he turned to her and asked, “Where to?”

He knew what she was going to say. He didn’t need to ask. But to hear it come out of her mouth was something almost too much to handle, “Your place.”

He reversed out of the driveway, barely croaking out, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why?” she asked, turning towards him.

“You’re still my student.”

“So? We can just talk.”

Harry turned and looked at her, giving her a knowing look, “You know it’s not to just talk.”

“Why can’t it be? You don’t have any self-restraint? Is it because you like me?”

Harry felt a blush rise to his cheeks as he fumbled out a, “No.”

“Well then, what’s the problem?”

“......Fine.”

There wasn’t another word uttered for the rest of the journey to his place and he began to overthink. Was his apartment clean? Had he done the dishes? How messy was his room? Did it smell? He knew he should have gotten that diffuser from the store last week.

His nerves rose as he led her up to his apartment complex, pushing the door open and flicking on the lights, breathing a sigh of relief to see that it was, for the most part, fairly tidy. Y/N walked past him, scanning the scene, and as he locked the door he also held his breath, waiting for her to say something.

“Nice view,” she noted, briefly looking out of the window before turning to face him.

He tossed his keys on the entry table and motioned towards the kitchen to his left, “Drink?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Tea? Coffee? Water?”

“Water’s fine,” she said, making her way towards his living room.

He took the moment to catch his breath, trying to regain control of his thoughts before joining Y/N on his couch, handing her the drink. They both took a swig and he felt her eyes bearing holes into him, again.

When he set his drink down, he turned to her, “You’re very intense, you know.”

She smirked, leaning into the couch some more, “Yeah. I just know what I want.”

“And what’s that.”

“You.”

The immediate response caught him off-guard, but he wasn’t surprised by the answer. At this point, he knew exactly what she wanted, and was only feeding his ego more. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued by her and hadn’t thought about the same, but a part of him liked the chase.

He chuckled, sitting back, “You’re my student.”

She moved closer to him, more energetic this time, “I just happen to be into Musical Theory, that’s all.”

“You’re still my student,” he grinned, amused, patting her leg.

“So, what if I drop out? Would that change anything?”

Harry’s grin faded and his hand stayed where it was, resting on her thigh. He stared into her shining eyes again, seeing the seriousness behind them, and he froze, unsure of what to say. Would it change anything if she dropped out of his class? He wasn’t sure it would even need to come to that if she kept looking at him like that any longer.

His eyes flickered from her eyes, to her lips, and back up to her eyes as she waited for a response. He debated whether or not to just give in and kiss her right there. She wanted it, he wanted it, why keep fighting it? There weren’t any rules against relationships with students at his University, not like they’d even fight him on this one; they’re the ones that basically told him to give her everything she wanted.

But when he didn’t respond, Y/N pulled back away. He slumped, kicking himself for not pulling a move sooner. And after a moment of silence, she asked, “Hey, is it okay if I use your shower, real quick? I’m still sweaty from the show and I feel gross. I can take an uber home afterward.”

A million thoughts ran through his mind. Was that a move? Or an invite? Should he ask to join her? Why did she have to leave? He could drive her home, she didn’t need to take an Uber. But the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “Uh, yeah, sure.”

He showed her to the bathroom and went to grab her a towel from the linen closet as she adjusted the knobs and stuck her hand under the flow of water, gauging the temperature. By the time he got back in, she seemed happy with the warmth of the flow and took her hair out of its bun, placing the hair tie on the edge of his sink. He hung the grey towel on the rack beside the shower.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he muttered.

She smiled, “Thanks,” and before he was fully out of the room, she began to pull at the ends of her shirt. Quickly, he scurried out of the bathroom and closed the door to give her privacy.

Once out, his hands shot up to his forehead and he crouched, mumbling to himself a frustrated, “Fuck! What the fuck is wrong with you? Idiot!”

He sat impatiently on his couch, waiting for her to finish. When he heard the screech of the knobs turning and the pressure from the water fade, he shifted his position and quickly forced his attention elsewhere, trying to act casual. But when he heard the creak of the door opening, he turned his attention to see Y/N standing in the doorway, bathroom light glowing behind her, hair rang out and damp, clutching the towel around her body.

His eyes widened a bit as she spoke, “Do you have clothes I can borrow? Mine are still covered in sweat.”

“Uh, yeah, probably. In my room,” he stammered, getting to his feet and leading the way to his bedroom.

She followed, her feet lightly padding the wood floors. He felt almost embarrassed to have her in his bedroom. He wasn’t sure why, it’s not like it was dirty and he didn’t have anything oddities displayed, still, it was an intimate space, and to have her there felt personal.

He opened the bottom drawer of his dresser where he kept his pajamas and motioned towards it, standing up straight, “You can borrow anything from here.”

She bent down in front of him to rummage through, giving him a better look at her back. It looked clean, soft, and supple as droplets of water still lined her back and dripped from the ends of her hair, getting absorbed by the thin white towel she had wrapped around her. When she stood up, he took a step back and she turned, holding one of his oversized white t-shirts and a pair of his plaid pajama pants.

He stood there, unable to move as she stared at him, raising an eyebrow. And still, as she tossed the clothes on the bed behind him, he found himself, once again, rooted to the spot. A smirk started to form on her face and her voice was soft and playful as she spoke.

“How’s that self-restraint going?” she teased.

He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He just looked at her. And when her playful smile began to shift into something more alluring, he held his breath, watching as she untucked the towel around her chest and let it fall to the ground. His eyes instantly dropped to her exposed chest and he felt his heartbeat pounding rapidly in his chest as she stepped closer to him, barely twelve inches, refusing to take her eyes off of his.

“I know you want to,” she whispered, stroking his arms before taking hold of his hands, lifting them and placing them on her chest, “Touch me.”

He felt his erection becoming uncomfortable as he ran out of room in his pants for growth, massaging her chest. His attention roamed back up, locking eyes with her again. There was no stopping it.

************************************************** In a bout of passion, they threw themselves at each other, hungrily attaching their lips to one another, tongues circling and roaming the other’s mouth. Y/N tore fabric after fabric off of him as they spun, grabbing at each other roughly and without deliberation. Soon, they were both naked and knocking into walls and tripping over clothes.

Harry pushed her up against the dresser as she grabbed hold of his dick, pumping her hands up and down his shaft as he moaned into her mouth.

“Does that feel good, Professor?” she bit his lip with a smile.

“Ungh,” he grunted, pulling away. He spun her around so that her back was to his chest, and forced her down to bend over his dresser, propping one of her legs up on the top of it before he got to his knees, burying his face in her muff.

She cried out, “Yes! Teach me, Professor!”

He flicked his tongue inside of her, lapping up all of her juices while he rubbed himself. He could have kept going for hours, but he could feel her legs start to tremble. When he stood up, he slapped his cock on her ass a couple of times, swiping his tip against her entrance enough to get it lubricated before slipping right into her.

Y/N threw her head back, breathing, “Oh my god, you feel so good, Harry.”

He wrapped an arm around her neck while his other hand clasped over her mouth as he grunted, “Professor Styles,” before sucking on her shoulder blade.

When he loosened his hand from her mouth to take hold of her hip, she whined, “I’m so sorry, Professor Styles. I’m not always bad.”

“No, Y/N,” he pulled out of her, spinning her to face him, tempting her as he walked backwards towards his bed, “You’re my good girl.”

The back of his legs hit his bed and he scooched himself back, letting her climb over top of him, straddling his hips. She bent down, biting his lip again as she lowered herself onto him, gasping as her cunt swallowed him up.

She leaned back, letting him get a better look at her, breasts jumping up and down along with her. He ran a hand from her cleavage down to her navel, grazing her soft skin and watching as her mouth formed an ‘o’, scrunching up her eyebrows in pleasure as she called out his name.

“That’s a good girl,” he breathed, an arm behind his head as he watched, “Make me cum.”

She rode him faster, breathing heavier as he continued to grunt, propping himself up now and suckling on her skin. Her breaths became more shallow and her movements more rigid as she wrapped her arms around his neck, forcing herself onto him even harder. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her down onto him, even more, to go deeper. He could feel her throbbing around him, which only made him more aroused.

“Good girl, Y/N,” he breathed, “Cum on my dick.”

She buried her face into the crook of his neck, and with three more pumps she let out a scream as she said, “Pro-fessor Styles!”

He smirked, quickly flipping her on her back and pumping harder and faster into her as her legs wrapped around his waist. She panted, squeaking as he grunted into her. He looked into her eyes which were full of lust as she stared back into him and he could feel himself start to build up. Even faster now, knowing he was about to finish, he smashed his lips down on her quickly before pulling out and squirting his jizz on her stomach, letting her rub out every last drop.

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

He collapsed on the bed beside her as they panted, trying to catch their breath before he got the strength to reach down and grab his shirt for them to clean up the mess.

When he turned to face her, she smirked, “Do I need to drop your class? Or can we fuck in your office next time?”

He let out a breathy laugh and mumbled, “That depends. Are you going to the party with Mark tomorrow?”

“Do you want me to?” she retorted.

With a deep breath, Harry shimmied closer to her, nuzzling his head into her chest which made her wrap her arms around him, running her fingers through her hair as he whimpered, “No.”

She laughed, kissing his curly brown locks, “Told you I’d make you fall in love with me.”

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Taglist:

@odetostep @mylittleangel9403 @thurhomish @fallingfordolans @gwenlovesharrystyles , @harryswinterberries, @gucciboots, @golden-grande, @ilovedogs1989 @f4llingfairy

#Harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #Professor! Harry #Harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #one direction imagine #one direction smut

[whereisten]

Porcelain

A Yangyang fic that’s part of our Halloween Series! 

Summary: After a falling out with your friends, you wander into a forest and find a mysterious mansion with an even more mysterious inhabitant, Yangyang. 

Pairing: rich boy!Yangyang x female reader 

Genre: romance, fluff, fantasy, mystery, suspense, drama

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: Violence

(A/N): hey y’all! So the timing for posting this story worked out so well because it’s Yangyang’s birthday (in America!) :D Anyway, this is our second story for our Halloween Series for NCT 2020 and we hope you enjoy!  I’m so excited to be writing for one of my biases. I know my writing needs a lot of work but I hope you guys enjoy it. Yangyang is precious. Stan Yangyang, y’all. Shoutout to Krys for inspiring me everyday and for proofreading my story! You are my rock!

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It was October 10, the day in which your small town came together for a big bonfire to celebrate the fall season. Your town of Celestial was known for celebrating something every week but the atmosphere was always special at this time of the year. Classes ended for the week and your friends were excited to go to a party in the woods.

Unfortunately for you, you were abandoned off the side of the road after having a falling out with your friends Dowoon and Sana for blowing off the mayor’s son’s party. You’d recently been rebuffed by him in the senior hallway. Your rejection was followed by your classmates mocking you all day long. You wouldn’t be caught dead at Peter’s party. And you were especially in no mood to put up with your friends’ preference for a good party over their recently spurned friend’s feelings.

You said screw them but they would probably end up screwing each other anyway. They were platonic but their drunken hookups always said otherwise. So sometimes you felt like a third wheel. Which was also why you didn’t want to go. You wanted a new experience this spooky season. And you were probably getting one now that you were 2 miles outside of town. Damn your pride. Dowoon and Sana insisted you get back in the car but the driver, the school quarterback, quickly drove them off. What a sense of community, you thought.

It was freezing in Celestial at this time of year so you were layered up, saving your pair of ruby red mittens for last. The overcast sky appeared to promise snowfall. If not for tonight, the snow would surely fall tomorrow

You knew this area well enough to walk back into town but as you took a few steps forward, you noticed smoke in the distance. Like it was coming from a chimney.

That was odd, you thought. Who lived on this side of town?

As you walked in the direction of the smoke, you moved past the dense evergreen trees and before you knew it, you stumbled upon a mansion out of an old-time movie. Dating back to at most the 1800s. The mansion was a Renaissance chateau, big and domineering. Something that could’ve made Celestial a tourist destination like Asheville had with the Biltmore Estate.

How was it possible that anyone could live here, you thought. Surely, this would be the talk of the town if anyone knew. And if it was off-limits, it would’ve certainly kept the town on their toes.

The mansion was quiet and there was no trace of movement or inhabitants. Then again, it was large so you could be incorrect. The chateau’s main entrance was big and made of the most pristine marble. The only thing missing was a moat. There were several fountains in the entrance. The water froze due to the colder weather. You didn’t understand how you could keep moving forward. You didn’t know this place. You didn’t know who could be inside. But you found yourself taking steps up to the massive double doors. Your hand moved to the doorknob and turned it over. The door creaked open and without a second thought, you walked in.

The door slammed shut behind you but you weren’t afraid. In fact, you were mesmerized by the atmosphere of the mansion. From the outside the mansion looked preserved like a fine piece of art in a high-surveillance museum: cold and unwelcoming and way out of your price range. But on the inside, it felt...warm and bright. It felt like home. It smelled of cinnamon and freshly baked bread.

You walked through the entryway and found everything illuminated by candle light. There was no indication of light from the outside. It was almost as if the real goings-on were hidden from the outside world.  

There were shoes at the entrance. You took your boots off to not track dirt into the residence. Winter coats were hung up on the coat rack. You hang your coat up as well. There was a half-full cup of tea that was beside the sofa of the sitting room. You admired the interior: the expansive first floor library, the dining room table that sat seven, the pristine kitchen area, the music room...

As you stood in the doorway of the music room, you heard the sounds of a violin playing a somber but sweet melody. Rather than grow alarmed, you longed to find the source, thinking that whatever it was could only bring you joy.

The music room was massive, with a skylight in the shape of a spade on the ceiling. The sunset colors of the sky never looked more stunning than they did at that moment.  A grand piano lay at the center. You longed to touch it but something inside you warned you against it. Instruments of all kinds were splayed across the area. But there was no violin in sight.

When you turned around to continue exploring the mansion, that was when you found the source of the music.

A boy about your age stood before you with his violin rested against his collarbone. He continued to play as he smiled knowingly at you. He had straight brown hair that nearly fell into his warm brown eyes. He donned a black tuxedo that was more regal than modern. His eyes crinkled as he watched you, delighted to meet such a beautiful stranger.

You nearly jumped at his presence. “Who…are you?”

Quirking an eyebrow, he replied as he continued playing, “I should be asking you that. You’ve broken into our home.”

“Our?” You asked.

He shook his head. “What brings you here, miss?”

You knew you’d been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to  but you couldn’t help it. This place called out to you and you’d hoped you could stay longer. But it looked like your time was up. You lamely said, “I…need to borrow your phone.”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to. What’s this ‘phone’ you speak of?” His refined voice was not like that of the locals. He sounded well-traveled, worldly. But definitely from a long time ago. 

The more you spoke to this young man, the more you realized that he didn’t sound like he lived in the same century as you.

You frowned. “You don’t know what a phone is? Come on, you’re kidding, aren’t you?”

He halted from playing and gave you a look. “Tell me. What is a phone?”

“…It’s a device that lets you speak to someone who isn’t with you…” You attempted an explanation that was as eloquent as possible, thinking that if you spoke in a more refined tone, he would get what you were saying. Where on earth could this boy have been from to not know what a phone is? He really sounded like someone from a century past.

“Like a medium?” He asked as he set his violin down in its case. He put his hands in his pockets as he walked slowly back to you. Your breathing stalled as his face was mere inches from yours. He was indeed very handsome. His high cheekbones. His glorious tan skin. A pearly white set of teeth. His legs were dangerously long as he faced you.

Your face warmed up and you hoped he couldn’t tell. You backed away as you locked your eyes on the piano instead. “No…It’s like if I were two miles away from here and you needed to get a hold of me, you could use a phone to contact me on another phone. It’s an electronic device.”

He nodded. “Oh, I’ve heard of those…My family and I could not acquire them, unfortunately.” His expression became sad, longing.

Hearing his defeated voice, you turned to him. “Oh, I’m sorry. Why is that?”

He looked at you, defeated. “I’d rather not say, miss…”

“Y/n,” you answered.

“Y/n,” he replied, liking the sound of your name.

“It’s okay,” you replied, “I should probably go…I’ve overstayed my welcome, sir….Your name?”

“Yangyang,” he answered, anticipating the sound of his name off of your lips.

“Yangyang…Would it be possible to get a ride back into town? I can pay you for your trouble.”

He smiled apologetically. “My sincerest apologies but I’ve no means to take you.”

“Oh…” It was all you could say.

You felt a small pang of worry at the pit of your stomach, especially now that night had fallen. Perhaps, you could make your way back into town if Yangyang offered you a torch. He would have that much, at the very least.

“It’s dangerous to go out on your own at this time of night, y/n…” He said, quietly. It was a little eerie that he read your mind at that moment.

“I know. I’m such a fool…I couldn’t borrow my father’s phone for the night so I have no way of calling anyone…I…just couldn’t help myself when I walked in here…” You said as you looked around the music room. “It was like…”

“Something pulled you in,” he finished.

“Yes, exactly.”

Yangyang began, “I know it’s out of turn for me to say this but I can offer you a room to stay in for the night…Then, you can make your way back into town in the morning.”

You were beyond lucky your parents weren’t home for the weekend. Otherwise, they’d be worried sick. But even so…How could you say yes to a total stranger? Even if you were only a few miles out of town, you didn’t know Yangyang. You didn’t know what his intentions could be.

Another part of you told you to trust him. Because what would you do in the woods at night? You couldn’t account for the wolves or the other creatures of the night. You didn’t know who else could linger in the woods.

As far as you could tell, Yangyang was an odd but attractive guy. And if he was offering a separate space for you to sleep in, then you should take it.

_______

There was a snowstorm in a matter of minutes when Yangyang escorted you upstairs. How odd for it to be snowing in early October, you thought. You rejoiced over how your jerk of a crush's party was a bust. You wondered if Sana and Dowoon made it home safely. You wondered if they worried about you now. After they left you in the middle of the road.

Maybe you should stop being friends with them. You felt like you were more disappointed in them with each passing week. You wondered when they would do something for you. It always seemed to fall on you to pick them up from parties and cover for them when their parents called your house when they went to a 21+ club. You just wanted a simple night in to watch a movie and share ghost stories. Maybe they didn’t want to do those things anymore.

You wouldn’t say they grew up but maybe...the three of you just grew apart.

You pushed thoughts of them to the back of your mind as Yangyang stood in front of an ornate door, decorated with flower engravings, painted in several colors. The initials at the bottom were “W.T.”.

Yangyang pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door for you. He handed the set of golden keys to you. “These are yours for the duration of your stay. You can trust no one will come in...Unless it be your wish, y/n.”

He dropped the keys into your hands. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Yangyang smiled. “You are welcome. Supper will be ready in an hour. I’ll come for you when it is time.”

You couldn’t look at him for too long without your eyes burning. He was too radiant. Too beautiful. Almost otherworldly. You looked down at your socks as you entered the room. You shut it gently behind you.

You locked the door from the inside, trusting that Yangyang gave you the only set. You took a sigh of relief as you took in the bedroom.

This had to be a mistake, you thought.

This had to be the master room. It felt like you were in a 19th century penthouse suite, if such a thing had existed. Your room for the night started with a fireplace and a sitting area. When you walked past it, you entered the study area that was bigger than the first floor of your house. You had a massive walk-in closet filled with gowns and shoes of every color. You even had a room full of fine jewelry on display, including tiaras studded with diamonds. Your mouth remained open as you walked through the “bedroom”.

You shouldn’t have access to any of these things. For they must have belonged to someone. Why would Yangyang let you sleep in here?

Lastly, as your heart couldn’t take anymore, the bedroom was plush and luxurious. The carpet embraced the soles of your feet. After resisting the urge to touch everything else in the bedroom, you allowed yourself to sit on the king-sized bed.

Sleeping in this bed would’ve compensated for all of the all-nighters you’ve pulled in your life. It was a shame you wouldn’t be able to sleep that night, though.

You were many things. Naive, innocent, studious, and quite impulsive at times. But you weren’t about to fall asleep in a stranger’s home.

Half an hour passed as you washed up and warmed up by the fireplace.

Yangyang knocked at your door. You thought it odd that he would be escorting you down himself. Shouldn’t he have servants, living in a place like this?

You opened the door and Yangyang stared at you in shock.

“What?” You frowned. You looked exactly the same as you did when you first met him, he realized.

“Were none of the gowns to your liking?” Yangyang asked, genuinely confused.

You did a double take. “What? Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly...Those aren’t mine. I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality. No more than I already have.”

Yangyang was stunned at your decision. He thought you would have tried on all of the dresses in the past half hour and don the diamond tiara with golden accents...But no...The suite he’d given you was relatively untouched. You were certainly a woman of your word. You would’ve looked stunning in the red sleeveless dress, he thought. He snapped out of it and said, “No matter. You had the option...That’s why I gave you this room. Everything within these mansion walls is at your disposal.”

You laughed. “You’ve done more than enough for me so don’t worry. Now...can we go eat? I really can’t turn down a meal.” You hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

Yangyang laughed at your candor. “Of course.”

As you walked down the grand wooden staircase, you could hear more people in the house. You heard chairs being pulled, laughter, clinking of glasses, and the piano being played.

You turned to Yangyang. “Who...”

Yangyang replied, “My brothers will be joining us for supper.”

“Oh,” you said, surprised. When you entered, you were shocked enough that Yangyang was there. Who knew more people resided here? Up until now, it was so quiet that you could probably hear a pin drop.

That, and Yangyang’s violin. Which you longed to hear again.

You felt quite underdressed upon meeting Yangyang’s brothers in the dining room, which boasted a lot of paintings and miniature statues to the men who stood before you. There was another grand piano in the dining area, where one of Yangyang’s brothers sat and played a lively piece. Three of the brothers were laughing about an anecdote that the tallest of the group told. The final two men sat as...to your surprise, servants finished setting the dining table, lighting the flames of the candles in the center. The servants’ dresses had turned up collars with plain neckties. Yangyang’s brothers all donned suits of dark reds, blues, and grays. They looked like members of a royal family.

At the sight of you, the music stopped and all of the men started moving towards you and Yangyang.

“Yangyang, an introduction is in order,” the pianist asked as he got up from his seat.

“Brothers, this is y/n. She is staying with us before she returns to town in the morning,” Yangyang said, the humor in his voice when he spoke with you vanished. He moved closer to you, you noticed.

The pianist asked for your hand and kissed it. “Enchanted to meet you, y/n. I am Wei Kun, the oldest of the Wei children.”

You coughed, a little shocked at how forward Kun was. It was a culture shock to you. Most boys thought they were too damn special to ever make eye contact with you.

You shook hands with the other brothers. They were all very happy to see you. But you couldn’t quite place what kind of joy it was so you remained on your toes.

“Please, sit,” Winwin said as he led you to the seat right next to the head of the table. Kun sat down at the head of the table and smiled at you. The rest of the brothers joined you.

The servants began to bring out the drinks and the first course. Ten was about to sit next to you when Yangyang immediately claimed the seat.

“Calm down, brother,” Ten said, “It won’t do you harm to let her sit beside someone other than you.”

Yangyang remained in his seat. “She is my guest.”

Ten chuckled as he sat across from you. “So y/n, what brings you to this neck of the woods?”

A servant poured a glass of water for you. “Thank you,” you replied and tried to meet her eyes.

The servant quickly turned away and headed to the kitchen, you assumed. That was odd.

“Well,” you continued, “My friends and I were going to a party in the woods. We got into a fight and I got out of the car that was on the road not too far from here…”

“A car?” Xiaojun frowned, his bold eyebrows furrowed. He took a bite of his salad.

So these men didn’t know phones or cars... “Oh...Well, they’re these machines that can transport people from place to place…”

“Like a carriage?” Yangyang offered.

“Ah.” The rest of the boys said in realization.

You nodded as you drank your water, “Yes, but it runs on gasoline.”

The boys were amazed at your tales about modern technology. You went into as much detail as you could about phones and cars. The boys were an odd bunch. It was almost as if they never left this house.

Although it seemed like that, they told you tales of their travels to Asia, South America, and Europe. They told you about their cultural expeditions and their visits to the natural wonders of the world. Ten, the painter of the family, motioned to the paintings you’d seen earlier. They were paintings of places like Machu Picchu, the Colosseum, and the Parthenon. They were paintings of the places they visited. They were so vivid and lifelike. Ten was an incredible painter. Talent ran in the family, that was a sure thing. You were as much in awe of their tales. You were thankful the spotlight wasn’t on you like you’d expected, being the sole stranger of this household.

You enjoyed the salad, the tomato soup, the roasted duck, and the dessert, which happened to be your favorite: strawberry shortcake.

“Would you care for another slice?” Yangyang asked in a whisper as the other boys talked. He noticed your face come alive at the first bite of the cake.

You nearly choked on the last bite of your slice. You must have looked gluttonous to him. You should’ve eaten slower, you thought. You must have not been very ladylike at that moment. You shook your head. “That’s alright. Thank you. Everything was delicious.”

Yangyang looked at you once again in confusion. You clearly wanted another slice so why weren’t you asking for it, he asked himself. “Very well…” He murmured.

Lucas got up from the table. “Well, Yangyang, the boys and I will retire early...Although we wish you would let us be in y/n’s company…”

Yangyang quickly replied, “Good evening, brothers.”

They all pouted but wished you a good evening.

You laughed. “Your brothers are a lot of fun.”

Yangyang scoffed. “That’s one word for them. The minute they caught wind that I had a visitor, they insisted on joining us for dinner. I am so sorry, y/n. You must have been overwhelmed.”

You shook your head. “It’s nice to know that it isn’t just you in this house.”

Yangyang was stunned at your words. You were so...kind. Thinking of others, always. Thinking of him, basically a total stranger. You were as kind as you were trusting. It made his heart ache.

He pulled your seat back for you. He offered his arm. “Are you tired?”

Exhausted, actually. But once again, you were in a stranger’s house. And now that you knew he wasn’t alone, you wanted to be more on guard.

“Nope...I am wide awake.” You smiled as you took his arm. He was warm to the touch. The electricity ran between both of you.

Yangyang laughed. “What would you like to do, y/n?”

“I’d like to hear you play,” you said.

He was shocked at your honesty. He liked when you expressed yourself honestly most of all.

It was the truth, you thought. Frankly, it was part of your ruse to stay up as late as possible but if Yangyang could keep you entertained, it would certainly help a lot.

And truly, you could listen to his violin for hours.

_______

Back in the music room, you sat on the couch, serving as Yangyang’s audience. He loosened his tie and took off his jacket, setting it aside on a chair. He rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

He warmed up his hands and fingers for a few minutes before he tuned the strings of his violin. His fingers were so elegant and slender. The veins of his arms protruded as he flexed his hands. He looked so focused and determined and just unbelievably beautiful. The violin was an extension of his heavenly hands. This was the most attractive he’d ever been. You bit your lip.

You told yourself to calm down, for he was a complete stranger.

Sure, up until this point, he gave you the bedroom of your dreams. A dinner that nearly brought you to tears from the flavor and comfort it gave you. And he was playing his beloved instrument for you...But you couldn’t get attached so quickly.

He couldn’t meet your gaze because the look in your eyes made him feel something he wasn’t prepared to acknowledge. Time had slipped quickly and his heart was deceiving him when it shouldn’t have.

“So...what will you be playing first?” You asked. How many songs could you get out of him before you both retired to your rooms?

Yangyang grinned excitedly. “An original I’ve been working on...I finished composing it today.”

“Really? Today?” You asked.

He gave you the knowing smile he had the moment you met him. “You helped me finish it.”

“Is that so? Well, I’m ready when you are.” You smiled, about to kick your legs up like an overly excited schoolgirl.

“The piece is called ‘Found’,” Yangyang said as he positioned his bow against the strings and began.

Yangyang was truly an otherworldly being, especially under the skylight. The snowstorm was long gone and only the moonlight shone down on him. His skin illuminated like porcelain. His sculpted face tilted as he immersed himself in his song.

You realized the song was the piece he played when you entered the music room the first time. The song was somber at first. The notes were low and left you feeling down. Yangyang’s face was so melancholic at the start of the song. However, as he continued, the notes became lighter and freer, picking up towards the end, signifying hope. Your heart swayed with each three-note chord he played.

You weren’t entirely sure of the story behind the song but meeting you must not have been a low point of his day.

You clapped for Yangyang. “I loved it! It’s...too beautiful to be called merely beautiful...You are so talented.”

Yangyang’s cheeks were now a rosy pink. He bowed for you. “Thank you.”

You laughed giddily. You wished you could’ve recorded this performance, you longed to keep it with you for the rest of your life.

Yangyang continued playing his original pieces. He was truly gifted in his craft. His compositions were nothing to sneeze at. He should be a world-famous musician with all of the work he’d done.

As he played, he would meet your eyes and give you a little smile. You could watch him for hours. He could play for you for hours.

You two were in this perfect little bubble, then. Reality didn’t take effect. It was divine.

Yangyang’s hands grew tired and after his last song, he sat beside you.

“You look sleepy, y/n,” he noted, “Did my performance actually bore you?” He mocked taking offense.

You fought a yawn but couldn’t let it escape you so turned away from him. You lifted a finger and told him to wait.

You let out a yawn, trying not to be noisy. Yes, you were tired. A long day at school, a falling out with your friends, and an evening at the Wei Mansion did its number on you.

You faced Yangyang again. “I’m wide awake.”

Yangyang lifted an eyebrow in skepticism. “Perhaps you would like  something to drink?”

You nodded. “Something warm...Would hot cocoa be possible?”

“Absolutely. It’s a staple at this household this time of year,” he said.

He offered his hand to you and you took it. Both of you were taken aback by how immediate you were to hold hands but neither of you let go as Yangyang led you into the kitchen.

In the kitchen, he tended to you. The servants were nowhere in sight. The mansion felt like it had when you first came in: empty.

It felt like you two were the only people in this house, a world in itself.

He poured you a cup of cocoa he made and you were in love. The cocoa tasted amazing. You drank it slowly, savoring every sip.

You shivered a little from the cold that creeped into the mansion. Yangyang left for a moment and returned with a blanket. He wrapped it around you.

It was plush and made of the softest material you could ever imagine. If you snuggled too much against it, you would fall asleep right then and there.

But your energy started picking up again...It must have been the cocoa.

“We can go into the library...I’ll start up the fire.” Yangyang offered as he drank his cup of cocoa.

It seemed Yangyang was eager to stay awake with you, you thought.

“Aren’t you tired?” You asked.

He looked up from his cup. “What?”

“You don’t have to force yourself to stay up with me. I’m the one who can’t sleep.”

Yangyang knew you were keeping yourself awake on purpose. He knew you didn’t completely trust him or this house. Slowly, however, you opened yourself up to him and he was quite fond of you. He wanted to be by your side for the night. He didn’t know why exactly but he just did.

He met your gaze. “I hope it is not too forward of me to say this...But I want to remain at your side.”

You looked down, flattered at his words. Then, you mustered your courage and met his unwavering stare. “Okay.”

The truth was, you felt safer with Yangyang. And you couldn’t lie to yourself: you liked him. He was kind, attentive, charming, and a wonderful musician. The moment you met him made you forget all of your troubles...if only for a moment.

You two walked into the dome-shaped library. It was bigger than any commercial bookstore. You wondered how old the family’s collection was.

Yangyang started the fire at the fireplace by the reading couches. He motioned for you to take a seat.

You sat down and nearly sank into the couch. It was so comfortable. You were living in the lap of luxury.

“Y/n, are you alright?” Yangyang asked.

You laughed. “Yeah...why?”

“Your eyes rolled to the back of your head,” he said, smiling confusedly.

You laughed again. “It’s because this couch is the most comfortable thing I’ve ever sat on.”

Yangyang smiled and shook his head. “The simplest things please you.”

“Nothing about this house is simple,” you said.

He shook his head, smiling at you and picked up a book off of the shelf. He scanned the title and the summary. “What do you like to read, y/n?”

You answered, “Horror.”

Yangyang’s eyes widened. “Really?”

You nodded. “Yes. I like the suspense and the kinds of creatures the writers come up with.”

Yangyang was wrong to assume you were a romance kind of girl. He’d hoped to woo you with some Shakespeare. He took it in stride and put the book he had back on the shelf. He took a rolling step ladder and positioned it farther away from you. He got up on the steps and picked up another book off the shelf.

“It’s called ‘The Mysterious Mansion’,” he said, biting back a laugh.

“How fitting,” you said, laughing.

You and Yangyang shared a couch as you took turns reading to each other. The story was dark and twisted but got your heart racing.

Well, maybe Yangyang’s being so close to you may have had something to do with it.

The hours pass and you finish off the last page. Yangyang leaned against the other end of the couch and simply watched you. He loved the sound of your voice and the way it cracked.

He gave you a glass of water to relax your voice. He loved how your eyes scanned word for word. The crease between your eyes as you interpreted the author’s words. But you kept on reading aloud. He’d read “The Mysterious Mansion’ several times but this time was his favorite reread.

You could hear Yangyang talk forever when you heard him read the passages. His voice was soothing and full of wonder. The grin on his face right before he read a twist to the story. The crinkle of his nose when he laughed at your reactions. He’d become a friend.

A friend you wanted to kiss.

This was the most fun you’d ever had. This cold October night with this enchanting young man. You kinda wished it would never end but you were still resolved to...Stay...awake…

Your eyes grew heavy and you curled yourself against the couch. You pulled the blanket tighter around you.

Yangyang realized you were drifting. He quickly moved over to you and shook you awake.

You two had stayed up all night and it was nearing daybreak. And he had to move fast.

“Y/n!” He yelled to wake you up.

You grumbled. “What?”

“Please wake up. You need to leave right now,” Yangyang demanded.

You rubbed your eyes and snapped out of it. How the hell did you almost fall asleep, you fool, you thought to yourself. The alarm in Yangyang’s voice also was a cause for concern. “What’s wrong?” You asked.

He shook his head rampantly. “There’s no time to explain. Do you have everything?”

You nodded. “I have to get my coat and boots at the entrance.”

Yangyang grabbed your hand and you both ran towards the entrance. You put your coat and boots on. Yangyang did the same and he nearly dragged you out the door. You quickly moved down the staircase and set foot on the dewy grass. Yangyang kept his foot on the last step of the staircase.

The sky overhead was mostly black but shades of oranges, pinks, and red were breathing through. Dawn was imminent.

That was when you realized you had no mittens. You’d left them in the bedroom.

Yangyang noticed your bare hands. He pulled off his royal blue mittens and slipped them onto your hands.

“You don’t have to-“ You started.

“I want you to have them. A fair trade. Yours for mine?” He smiled.

He squeezed your hands before he let them go.

“Thank you...for tonight, Yangyang,” you said. Even though it was through the weather and the night that you had no other choice, you had a magical night with a boy who was so wonderful, he must’ve been out of a classic novel. He’d treated you like a friend and listened to you: about what you wanted to do and what you liked. You’d wished you could’ve gotten to know him more but you appreciated that he listened to you attentively.

You were sad the night had ended but you’d succeeded in staying up nearly the whole night at least. You were meant to leave now. You’d overstayed your welcome and you needed to get home. That was the most important thing.

Yangyang moved closer to you and moved some hair away from your face. He touched your cheek with the back of his hand. Once again, you both did something with no thought.

You got up on the staircase and kissed him. He pulled you in to deepen the kiss. He picked you up off the ground as he continuously took your breath away.

But as quickly as this piece of utter bliss started, it quickly ended.

He let you go and set you down on the grass. “Goodbye, y/n.”

“Goodbye, Yangyang.” As you walked into the forest, you turned back once more and watched as Yangyang stood there, his face unreadable.

You waved at him and his expression softened as he waved back.

You laughed as you turned back now and kept on moving. The path to the main road took a little longer than expected because it was still dark. However, the sun rose before you knew it and you were able to see the main road again.

And you were shocked to find several people on the main road. Cop cars were parked off the side of the road. A news reporter for Channel 23 News could be heard saying.

“It is Day 8 into the search for y/n y/l/n. She was last seen on this road, Road 116 by her friends and has not returned home. If you have seen y/n or have any information that can help our police force find her, please call the number on the screen: 1-800-RES-CUES. Again, that’s 1-800-RES-CUES.”

Dowoon and Sana were being interviewed by another news station.

Dowoon was on the brink of tears, his eyes stained red. “This is all our fault.”

Choking on her tear, Sana continued, “We shouldn’t have left her on the road...We thought she went home...We were so stupid…”

What the hell was going on?

You walked into the road and several people turn to you in shock. They gasped and screamed your name.

Your parents broke out of the crowd of people that has accumulated. “Y/n!” They both yell.

They run up to you and wrap their arms around you, weeping hysterically.

Your mom yelled, “Y/n, where have you been? My baby!”

Your dad held your face in his hands, “What happened to you? Are you alright?”

You were shocked at their reaction. “What are you guys doing here? I thought you guys were in New York until tomorrow.”

Your parents, not letting you go, gave each other a meaningful look.

Your mom’s eyebrows furrowed. “Tomorrow? Y/n, we came back a week ago.”

You laughed in disbelief. “No, you guys left Friday morning, yesterday morning.”

Your dad shook his head. “Y/n, you’ve been missing for a week now.”

You laughed again. “No...You guys are messing with me.”

But then you looked around at all of the worried looks on the people’s faces. The police officers came right over. You even saw Dowoon and Sana sobbing not too far from Sana’s car.

“You guys...I stayed in a mansion not too far from here for the night because of the snow…”

“What mansion? What snow?” Your parents asked in unison.

You darted your eyes to everyone else and whispered to them. “Come with me.”

“Y/n, we need to get you home…” Your mom pleaded.

You shook your head. “I need to show you where I was and that I wasn’t in danger.”

“Y/n, we should tell the police-” Your father offered.

“No!” You snapped. “Please trust me. He didn’t do anything to me. He’s my friend.”

At the mention of “he”, your parents were up in arms and motioned for the police to come over.

“We will go with you, y/n…” Your mom said.

She meant that they’ll go with you if you have a police escort.

You shook your head and led the party to the mansion. You couldn’t believe this. Missing for seven days? That was impossible. You’d only been gone for the night. How could anyone have known you’d been gone? Your parents were away.

Once you got out of the forest to the Wei mansion, you saw that there was no mansion. Only an abandoned cabin.

What?

“Is this where you were detained, y/n?” Police Officer A asked.

“I was not detained. This isn’t the mansion I-”

“A mansion?” Everyone looked at you skeptically.

You entered the cabin, knowing that everything you believed in was slipping through your fingers. Tears quickly ran down your cheeks. The cabin was shabby, the furniture inside covered in dust. It had been unlived in for quite some time.

“Y/n!” Your parents yelled.

The police rushed in after you and Police Officer B held you back. “Let me go!” You demanded.

“It’s dangerous.”

The police officers searched the entire cabin three times over and came up with nothing. “There is no trace of anyone having been here for years,” Police Officer A said.

Well, of course not, this wasn’t the mansion that you stayed at.

Clearly, the more time passed, the more concerned everyone looked. It was possible you heard the words “rehab” and “therapy” and “mental break” thrown around.

You had to calm down. You knew you weren’t crazy. You knew it because you wore Yangyang’s gloves.

Yangyang.

Where is he? Where were his brothers? Where was the Wei mansion?

Police Officer B released you and you browsed the area. Your parents trailed behind you. You entered one of the bedrooms, encased in dust. You sneezed and found a chest with a lock on it. The chest was engraved with the letter “W” at the center. 

You recognized the engraving. It was the same handwriting from the bedroom door in the Wei Mansion. Your bedroom door...The keys.

You remembered you still had them in your pocket. It was a long shot but you pulled them out. You placed the key inside of the lock and opened the chest.

You found seven porcelain dolls. The dolls were more sophisticated than any doll sold at the local stores. They were almost lifelike. The way their eyes and lips were drawn. Each doll bared a striking resemblance to the Wei brothers. You could see them all: Kun, Ten, Winwin, Lucas, Xiaojun, Hendery, and…

Yangyang.

The last doll was definitely Yangyang. The doll held a toy violin and wore…

Your ruby red mittens.

Fin.

_______

Epilogue.

Yangyang sat in the music room alone, holding on tightly to your red mittens.

Hendery charged into the room. His brothers trailed behind. “You fool! Why did you let her go?”

Yangyang shrugged. “I’ve had it.”

“What are you talking about?” Xiaojun demanded. “You were smitten with her. She was clearly enamored with you.”

Kun laughed. “It’s because he’s in love with her.”

All of the boys looked at their oldest brother, confused. Yangyang avoided their stares.

“You changed your mind,” Kun murmured.

Yangyang sighed, “She was not like-”

Winwin rolled his eyes. “Please do not give us the story of ‘she was not like other girls’. She seduced you and you let her go. You fell for her game. She outsmarted you.”

Yangyang snapped. “Do not test me, brother.”

Ten interjected. “Okay, okay, everyone needs to calm down...We are just curious...Why? She could have stayed here with us forever...With you forever.”

Yangyang didn’t want to speak to them. Every moment that passed, he missed you more. “She did not wear the jewels or the dresses...She left everything untouched. She did not come to us because she sought material possessions. She wanted a friend…”

Lucas laughed. “How pathetic.”

Yangyang groaned. “You lot would not understand…”

“Do not act like you are better than us, little brother,” Kun began condescendingly.

“I am not-”

“You think you’re better than us because you let a prisoner go this time, do you not? Well, let me bring you back to reality. Our spirits are confined into those tacky porcelain dolls...So what do we do to ease ourselves? We bring people into this realm to reside with us. Materialistic, selfish, and vain people. Y/n is no different from the rest of them.”

“Shut up,” Yangyang muttered.

The rest of the boys were stunned to silence but Kun heard him clearly. “Repeat that, Yangyang. You know the consequences.”

Yangyang got up and shoved your mittens in his pockets. “Shut up, Kun.”

Kun smiled and laughed. The other boys faked laughter so as not to upset Kun even more. His smile quickly faded as he punched Yangyang to the ground.

Kun gave Yangyang a harsh beating and the rest of the brothers watched. No one dared to step in and upset Kun even further. Yangyang couldn’t blame his brothers. Besides, he wanted this. He wanted to feel a pain other than the pain of missing you. 

He may have been damned for the rest of eternity but he was thankful to have met you. You proved to him that not everyone could be consumed by the deadly sins, as he and his brothers had. You were an angel that gave you a moment of compassion, of affection. And for that he would always be thankful.

_______

Come back tomorrow the third installment in our Halloween Series! :) 

#wayv yangyang #nct yangyang #nct 2020 yangyang #yangyang imagine #yangyang boyfriend #yangyang scenario #wayv #yangyang #liu yangyang #nct au #nct imagine #nct halloween blurb #nct halloween #nct one shot #wayv one shot #wayv oneshot #wayv au #nct x reader #wavy x reader #yangyang x reader #nct aesthetic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagine #kpop boyfriend #yangyang fluff #nct fluff #nct fantasy #nct romance #nct drama #rich boy yangyang

[starlyte-writes]

Sometimes I reread my fics for fun, and I was rereading “but you’ve lost all your past” so I wanna put some random fun facts that I like that people might’ve missed/not noticed (minor spoilers for the fic ahead!):

In Chapter 2 I write that the name Piss Sheep feels familiar to Ghostbur. That’s because I was referencing Piss Dog! Just cuz I felt like it.

Also in Chapter 2 I put the line: "I'll be back for you, okay?" That line is a direct quote from the April 29th stream. That’s the last thing Ghostbur ever said to Friend. (and yes it was horribly painful having to go back to that stream to find the line.)

Whenever I need a random number I love to reference random important dates/times. In Chapter 3 I do this twice: The 29th time the sword is pulled is a reference to April 29th. The 82nd time is a reference to August 2nd, the day of L’Manberg’s independence. 

The only reason I ever got around to writing Chapter 3 was because Ranboo kept talking about Generation Loss in ranmail and I was in the mood to write something spooky and unnerving. (So thank you Mr. Boo!)

Chapter 4 was supposed to have both a moment with Fundy and one with Tommy, but I realized that was too long for the fourth chapter when I only really wanted the fifth one to be long, so I shoved Tommy to the very end. Plus I felt like Fundy deserved a chapter dedicated to him. 

I’m solely putting this one because I’m scared no body got it but the crossed out text in Chapter 4 is c!Wilbur-like thoughts. Ghostbur’s getting access to c!Wilbur memories he didn’t have before, so he’s struggling to combat the self-deprecating mindset, if that makes sense. Idk I thought it was neat.

Another thing on Chapter 4, it is heavily inspired by the fight c!Fundy had with Ghostbur the day c!Fundy was supposed to get adopted. I kinda hint at that with the line “And yet this felt like such a familiar scene.” 

I also reference the fight by Ghostbur calling Fundy “buddy”!

This one’s pretty obvious but in Chapter 5 “powder keg about to explode” is a direct line from “Right Hand Man” in Hamilton cuz you know I had to.

Right after the power keg line I wrote “the spark burning closer to the stick of dynamite” which is a reference to how c!Wilbur described himself after being exiled!

I made myself cry writing the last line of the fic both because I had finished and because Ghostbur being happy makes me emotional lol

This one’s a shoutout to my bestie @tiredxsea. I listened to her ghostbur playlist while writing every single chapter of this fic. Thanks for giving me the musical power of writing, Sea. (and for just supporting me in general <3)

That’s all the fun facts I can think of rn. I love this fic so dearly and I love talking about it, so feel free to send in questions about it if you want! (And just thank you for reading it if you do.)

#dream smp #origins smp #wilbur soot #c!wilbur #ghostbur #o!niki #o!tubbo #o!phil #o!fundy #o!ranboo #o!tommy #nihachu #tubbo #philza minecraft #fundy #ranboo #tommyinnit #I'm so proud of this fic man #it means the world to me #I'm so happy with how it turned out for the most part #this is my love letter to ghostbur lmao #but you've lost all your past

[noctivague]

I doubt this will be of any use to anyone but me but I wanted to make a post about the things I'm going to celebrate in 2022, for future reference (and maybe some of you are just curious idk I know I like reading about other people's practice) so I can go back to it later.

So last year I attempted to start following the Athenian festivals but I got overwhelmed and ended up missing most of them. So my idea was to focus on the deities I'm worshiping and to have a smaller number of them. I settled for 2 per season and I've got a mix of traditional festivals and some inspired by the wheel of the year but they make sense to me and since I'm a follower of Demeter, she's heavily associated with the cycle of the seasons which is why it didn't seem so far off for me.

Side not but I'm currently giving offerings to each of my gods once a week or once every two weeks (these days I slowed down a bit due to motivation) but I wanted to do something more.

Here is a breakdown of each date:

12th Fabruary - Hermes worship anniversary : The only known festival of Hermes is linked to physical activity and games (gymnasium) and is not something I saw myself doing so I decided to make up my own festival and chose this date because according to my old journal, it's when I gave him my first offering. Idk what I will do, probably bake him something and take a look at where I'm currently at in my worship and request a tarot reading from a trusted reader to see where I'm at currently.

20th March - Spring Equinox/Khloia : So back then when I was researching Demeter for my 15 days of devotion, I found mention of a festival celebrating the first sprouts in the early spring. It didn't come with a date and I guess it would fall earlier or later depending on where it is, and also some years it happen earlier than other. So I decided to merge that with Spring Equinox. Also taking that time to celebrate the return of Persephone on the surface. I'm not a follower of her but I honor her at festivals due to her connection to her mother.

6th-7th May - Thargelia: This festival celebrate the birthday of Artemis and Apollo, which I both worship. I have never celebrated it but I really look forward to it. I'm not sure what I'll be doing, I guess I'll do some research and try to have a more recon approach.

21st June - Summer Solstice: This is my favourite time of the year so I really wanted to do something. I though that since it's the longest day of the year, I should incorporate Apollo as a god of the Light. Not sure how I'll do it yet.

2nd July - Aphrodisia: Aphrodite is not a goddess I'm currently worshiping but I really wanted to bring her into my life. So I thought it would be a good idea to include her festival. I might make my introduction to her earlier though.

23rd September - Autumn Equinox : Again, taking that time to honor the cycle of Demeter, giving thanks for the harvest and the blessings I received during the summer, starting the new season with a positive outlook, and honor Persephone as she's about to return to the Underworld.

31st October - Honoring the Dead : I always wanted to do something at this date but I never do. To be fair I'm not sure about this one. I want to take the time to honor my dead even though it's painful to do. Maybe that's why I should do it. I'm contemplating starting to do Noumenia though so it might replace that? Because I think I would rather follow the solar calendar rather than the lunar because it makes more sense to me personally. Either way, I want to include Hekate as well as Chtonic Hermes.

21st December - Winter Solstice : Again the solstice, I would like to focus on Demeter with one of her epithet which is Black and shows one of her more chtonic aspects. This is a time of the year that I really dislike, as a summer child, but it is important and mysterious and I want to honor that.

Shoutout to @ thegrapeandthefig who made a great 2022 Athenian calendar which I used to find the dates :)

#sorry for the long post #hope i will write more in 2022 #calendar #reference

[eloquent--asshole]

My Date With the President’s Son

a/n: I’ve been getting a lot of anons recently letting me know they couldn’t find this piece. Well... I found out it was deleted. So, here is a repost of My Date With the President’s Son! I was so sad when I found out it was gone :( BUT IT’S BACK!!! :) And much love to all of you that let me know it was missing! Come talk to me about this, future ideas, or anything! --PJ

hey, hi, hello! this is my submission for the Pick Your Poison fic challenge! I went with a good ole fake dating piece. Also, sidenote: this is the first pic i’ve actually decided to post! Please feel free to message me with any comments, questions, or concern. Also, an absolutely MASSIVE shoutout to @for-fucks-sake-h, @oh-honey-styles, and @andwhenshesays for creating this and letting me be a part of it! I’m so happy I decided to do this even though I was an absolute mess about it! Buckle up kids, it’s about to get messy!

read the other challenge pieces here!!!!! and support them!

//

"Miss. Y/L/N, I don't think you understand the immense pressure we're under with this mission." My boss, Mr. Thompson, was staring at me from across the conference table. The room was bright. Almost too bright from the fluorescent lights beaming on us.

I looked at my hands resting on my thighs under the table before returning to his gaze. "Well, Mr. Thompson, I don’t think you understand that this goes against not only our ethical codes but my moral beliefs as well.”

Mr. Thompson spoke as he got up and came around the table, taking a seat on the glass two feet to my left. "Miss. Y/L/N, you are obligated to serve your country. However the circumstances may seem. If you do not take this mission, I will be suggesting your employment for termination."

I ran a hand down my cheek. "What –“ I ran the options through my head. Get fired or help the President’s son. Easy decision, really. “How could this even work? Does he know?"

"No, he doesn’t know. Don't worry about the details of that. We will take care of it. Nevertheless, on your part, it must seem as authentic as possible." I looked at him in disbelief.

How could this be happening? What did I do to deserve the position to role play as the President’s slutty son’s romantic interest? I let out a heavy sigh before nodding at Mr. Thompson. He let a small smile break through his tough demeanor.

“Very well, we’ve set up for you two to ‘meet’ tomorrow.” Mr. Thompson got up to open the door at the end of the room. “Oh,” he paused turning to look at me one last time, “And don’t worry, if anything goes off course, you’ll be wearing an earpiece and a mic. So we’ll know and figure it out as we go along. Remember Y/N. We’re all in this together.”

But were we?

//

I sat in position, waiting for the signal. I was outside a quaint coffee shop where my target was currently buying a coffee.

As I got my cue from the team, I got up and started walking in the direction of the van that was watching our every move. The door to the coffee shop flew open and I felt a heavy weight rush into me "Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even see you there," came rushing out of the stranger’s mouth. I looked down at the spilled coffee on the ground between us.

"No, no. It's okay, I should have been paying more attention." I said, letting an embarrassed blush creep onto my cheeks. Why did he have to actually run into me?

"Can I buy you another coffee?” He offered.

"Oh, you don't have to do that"

"No, I insist. Really." He said, reopening the door to the café.

"Okay," I hesitated. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

"Nice to meet you, Y/N, I’m Harry. What do you like to drink?”

I heard Thompson in my ear immediately, "Vanilla soy latte,” he basically shouted.

"Vanilla soy latte, please" I offered a smile to the barista, hiding my wince. “A grande.”

"You're joking." Harry smiled down at me. He was taller than I expected. Standing about 6”1.  His curls cut into the frame of his sunglasses. Cute. I thought to myself.

"Why?" I asked, letting a giggle escape my lips.

"That's what I drink" He chuckled. Okay. I see what you’re doing, Thompson.

We smiled at each other and finished ordering. The drinks were up almost instantly. We sat at a table I chose outside. Purposely, so the team could continue watching.

"So, tell me about yourself," He started, taking a sip of his latte.

"I-" I paused briefly, waiting for instruction from Thompson.

"You work as the marketing director for Accent" Accent is a huge professional services firm. There’s no way I’m getting away with this.

"I work as a marketing director.” I took a breath, “For Accent."

"That's cool, I have some friends who work over there." Is he onto me? "Do you know Rich?”

"Rich Charleston. Operations Manager. 5"5. Auburn hair. Brown eyes.” Thompson barked in my ear.

"Oh yeah. The operations manager? He's not that tall. Auburn hair?" I questioned, a coy smile playing at my lips.

"Yeah! That's him! Funny, I've been to a few work parties with them. I've never seen you around." He looked at his coffee and came back to me. I felt my cheeks tinge pink yet again. No way I’m making it through this.

"Y/N, you're doing great. Just go with it. You started at Accent three months ago. They haven't had a company party in five months.” Thompson stated. It’s weird. Almost as if playing detective. Wait. I am a detective. A very…high end detective.

"Oh, yeah. I only started a few months ago, so that would make sense." I giggled, taking a sip of my latte.

Harry’s phone started ringing in his pocket. He slipped it out to check the notification. "Shit, sorry. I actually have to get going. I'm late for a meeting. Could I get your number?" He asked, handing over his phone.

"Yeah, that'd be nice." I took his phone where the ‘add new contact’ was already on his screen. I entered my information and handed it back. "Great, I'll see you around then."

"Gladly." He was off, hopping into the back seat of an awaiting SUV across the street. As it pulled away, I noticed it was in a no-parking zone. Of course, it would be. He's the president's son.

//

It has been three weeks since my ‘run in’ with Harry. He texted me an hour later asking if he could see me again. We had seen each other twice over the course of three weeks. Each time in a public setting to ensure the FBI could have an eye on us at all times.

We talked mostly about my work. He had finally let it slide through text that he was the President’s son. It was easy to act surprised through text. It would be harder to act as if I didn’t know my coworkers if it ever got to the point that I would be seeing him in a more intimate setting.

I was starting to realize why so many women were swooning for him. Not only was he handsome –  he was charming, sweet, and extremely articulate.

I sat in Mr. Thompson’s office discussing plans for the upcoming benefit. The benefit that Harry had yet to ask me to.

"Mr. Thompson, he has no idea this plan is underway. Like what happens if he tries to make advances on me. I did not sign up to be this boy's actual girlfriend.” I borderline complained.

"Miss. Y/L/N. This is your duty for the time being. We're trying to keep him safe and clean up his image. This is the best way we can do that.”

"Mr. Thompson, with all due respect, what if he actually starts to have feelings for me. What if he asks me to be his girlfriend? What if – "

Mr. Thompson raised a hand to interrupt me. "Miss Y/L/N, if that happens, we will handle it. Mr. Styles will never know. Now for the upcoming benefit. You will attend with Mr. Styles. As always, you will wear an earpiece. Members of the secret service will be aware of your presence. If something comes up, I will be in your ear warning you to get Mr. Styles out of there. Understood?"

"Yes sir,” I agreed, sulking into the chair. “But sir, he hasn’t even asked me.” Thompson’s hands brushed through the air - almost as to dismiss my thoughts.

“Oh, don’t worry, kid.” He snickered. “Mr. Horan, the head of his security, has intel that he will be asking you.”

//

As predicted, Harry did ask me to join him at the benefit. Giving me a two-day notice. Scratch that. Harry said he wanted me to come to a “party” and ‘wear something suited for a ball’  I recounted the statement as he was dropping me off from our brunch “date” on Thursday.

I stared at myself in the champagne-colored gown in my full-length mirror. I let out a frustrated sigh. This was so wrong. I shouldn’t be doing this to him. He’s actually really sweet. How can I untangle myself from this mess? I could commit treason, leave the country, and lay under the radar. One part of my brain told me. Or be put to death. The other part reminded me. I gave myself one last look-over and decided it was time to head to the lobby.

My roommate, Ashley, whistled at me as I walked out of my bedroom into the kitchen. “Going somewhere nice?” she asked.

“Work event,” I brushed off. I hadn’t told her anything. Specifically, because of the confidentiality behind the mission.

“With Harry Styles?” I froze in my tracks, taking a deep breath.

“How did you know that?”

“Sweetheart. You are all over the magazine covers. Do you think no one has cameras in public? I was speechless. How could I be so naïve that journalists who have such a strong eye on Harry’s personal, party lifestyle wouldn’t spot us out?

“Honey,” I heard our third roommate, Summer, call from the couch. “Did you really think you could be so slick?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ashlie chimed in.

Before I could answer, a call from Harry popped up on my phone. “I’m sorry, I have to go. He’s here.” I said turning on my heel to exit our apartment.

“Wait – “ Summer stopped me – “Can you please give us some juicy details on the man-who – I mean your new fling when you get home?”

I laughed at her response with a nod and started my trek to the lobby.

He was waiting outside the SUV, dressed in a black suit and a matching champagne tie. “Well don’t you look lovely.”

I blushed at his compliment. The security guard driving us gave me a curt nod as he opened the door for us. “Thank you. You look quite handsome yourself.”

When I dodged his kiss, he pulled me in for a hug before gesturing for me to get in first. “Thanks.” Despite the disappointment in his eyes, Harry’s smile was beaming. He looked absolutely adora – Y/N stop. This is strictly for work.

The door shut behind us and in half a second we were whizzing down the street to the banquet hall where the Benefit was being held.

“I���m really happy you agreed to be my date tonight,” Harry commented, not breaking his gaze from the window. “You can meet my parents.”

Parents? As in, the President and first lady of the United States? My body shivered at the thought. I have been in the same room as them before, yes. But meeting them as not an employee – but their son’s date, friend or whatever you want to call it – is terrifying.

“Wow, that would be – “ I tried to find the right words – “nice.”

“Really?” His eyes wandered to mine. “Most people would about shit themselves right about now.”

Well I’m damn near close, Styles.

When we pulled up to the entrance of the venue, our driver – Niall, I learned – hopped out and got the door for us. My eyes were blinded by the flashing lights. Harry grabbed my hand and helped me onto the ground. As we made our ascent, paparazzi were flooding him with questions. “Harry, Harry! Who’s this?” “New flame of the week kid?” “I heard you were bringing Kendall Jenner” could be heard from every angle.

Harry apologized as soon as the doors shut behind us. I shook my head to let him know it was okay.

“I am way too sober for this,” Harry mentioned before we walked into the noisy room. “And it hasn’t even started.” I let out a quiet giggle as he smiled at me.

The benefit passed with ease. As Harry walked us around making small talk and thanking people for coming, Thompson was in my ear telling me who people were and how they got invited. Harry and I kept making trips back to the bar. While I nursed two glasses of wine, Harry had drank 4 rum and cokes. It was becoming clear that Harry was feeling good. Almost too good for him to continue being at this event.

As a last stop around the room, we walked towards his parents.

“Harry, my boy. Thanks for being here tonight,” President Styles pulled Harry in for a hug.

“Like I had a choice?” He rolled his eyes. President Styles gave a laugh, one Harry didn’t reciprocate.

“Who’s this?” His mother asked as her gaze moved to me. Her eyes were kind. They matched Harry’s, I noticed.

“Mom, dad.” Harry said as he wrapped an arm around my waist, “This is my date, Y/N.”

“Hi,” I offered my hand to shake, “It’s so nice to meet you. Thank you for having me tonight.”

“The pleasures all ours, sweetie.” His mother affirmed. I felt a smile creep onto my lips. His parents were sweet - partly informal.

As we were making our way to a table, we were stopped by a friend of Harry’s – Louis. Apparently, they had been long time friends. As they grew up, Louis had started a media company, one which Harry happily invested in to help him out.

“Harry, this your date?” He asked curiously.

“Yes, this is my future girlfriend, Y/N.” His words slurred, I felt the wind knock out of me. Girlfriend? FUTURE girlfriend?

“How about a kiss for the camera?” Louis interrupted my thoughts. “For a piece I’m working on?”

“Why not?” This boy was definitely drunk. Without having time to react, Harry grabbed my waist and quickly, yet gently, pressed his lips to mine. It lasted only about half a second and I found myself wanting more.

Harry chatted with Louis for a few more minutes before bidding goodbye and continuing our walk to a table in the back. I brought my fingers to brush against my lips, still feeling his burning into my memory.

The next hour passed quickly. Harry had downed another two drinks because “I’ve already talked to everyone I need to and now I can relax.” I could see why the media calls him a party boy. He’s 0 – 100 real quick.

Our conversation flowed easily and I found myself enjoying his presence.

“I’m having a really good time,” Harry slurred into my ear. He snuck an arm around my shoulders at some point, and I didn’t really care.

“So am I.”

“Good, I was really nervous to ask you.” His admission took me by surprise. The entire three weeks I’ve known him, he never seemed shy. He was always respectful. I’ve learned so much about the party boy that always seemed to be judged. If it were me, no one would care if I went out with my friends every weekend and brought a different guy home. But because he’s, well, Harry Styles. It matters. The presidential family is supposed to be clean, polished, not having any dirty laundry. But the media loves to air his.

I learned Harry had a – what most would call – normal upbringing. Small home in the outskirts of NYC. He went to public school up until high school, when his father had decided to run for congress and got in. His favorite color is yellow – because it’s happy. He loves music from the 70’s and 80’s because it reminds him of his childhood. He knows about his party-boy persona and absolutely loathes it – but continues to live it because it’s the only way he can let go of the stress from being the President’s son.

“Why were you nervous?”

“Well, it’s always intimidating to meet a beautiful woman who knows what she wants in life and won’t settle for less. I was especially nervous because I thought not only my reputation, but my status would scare you off.” My chest felt tight. If only he knew that everything, well half of everything, I told him were lines being fed to me from the Director of the FBI. “And I’m sorry it took so long for me to tell you. I didn’t want to lie. But I felt like it would be easier for us to get to know each other before I told you.”

There’s that word. Lie. I hate that word but yet, it’s what I was doing almost every time we were together.

“I don’t want you to ever feel nervous or feel like you have something to hide from me.” I took the hand he had draped around me in my own. “I just want you to be yourself. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. I don’t care about your status or the fact that your parents are the President and First Lady. That’s not something you should feel ashamed of.”

For the first time, Harry’s smile met his eyes. He’s smiled plenty when we’re together, but this was different. He tugged me closer and placed his lips on my cheek. They burned from his touch. My body temperature must have risen 10 degrees.

Did Thompson see that? Of course, he did. Wait, where is he? My smile dropped as I looked across the room, hoping for a sign of Thompson. He hadn’t been in my ear for a while. I wonder if everything’s okay.

“Everything’s fine,” I moved my eyes around the room once more, confused. “I can see that look on your face. I know that look. You were getting worried.”

Where the heck is Thompson and how can he see my face.

“Niall is about to grab you to take you both home. So, I’m off for the night. You’re on your own kid.” I heard the familiar static as they shut my earpiece off. So, they had heard that entire conversation, wonderful.

I smiled, reaching for my ear to take the piece out, but halting my movements when I remembered Harry was still sat next to me.

“Mr. Styles, the car is here.” Niall leaned down to whisper to Harry.

“Alright, love. Off we go.” Harry let his arm fall from my shoulder. I stood to grab my clutch off the table. I paused when I noticed Harry guzzling the rest of his drink before setting the glass on the table. “What?” he asked innocently. “I wasn’t going to just leave it there. Someone could try to sell that since my lips have touched it!” I smirked at him before linking my arm with his.

The drive home was filled with Harry trying to be touchy feely and a bit too flirtatious. Between him keeping trying to rest his hand on my knee, and the many compliments he spewed out in a drunken slur, I felt myself loosening up and enjoying his drunken, flirty presence. Niall made eye contact with me in the mirror one too many times for me to be comfortable with.

He knows.

When we pulled up to my building, I opened the door only to feel a tug on my wrist. I craned my neck to look at Harry, who didn’t let go of my arm.

“Will you kiss me?” His glazed eyes bore into mine as he leaned over to my half of the seat, “For real this time?” I contemplated for a second. Yes, I would like to kiss you again. Will I? I can’t.

I giggled at his lazy smile and glanced to the mirror at Niall who seemed to be minding his own business, “You’re drunk Harry.”

“Would you reconsider if I was sober?”

“Goodnight, Harry” I said, hopping out of the SUV.

“I’ll take that as a maybe!” He called as I shut the door.

What is this boy doing to me?

//

It’s been three days since the benefit. I hadn’t heard from Harry much, maybe a text or two over the last two days. I wish I could say I didn’t care. But I did. Yes, what I was doing was wrong. But after seeing him in a vulnerable state being drunk at the benefit, he grew on me. A lot more than I’d like to admit. Even though I hadn’t heard from him, I still had the inside scoop from Thompson. Apparently, Mr. Horan was keeping a tight leash on him. No parties or clubs recently.

One thing that should’ve been noticed a lot sooner on my part was that every time I was with Harry or Harry was out, he had Niall maybe 5 feet away. So why the hell would they need me?

Oh right – clean up the image.

“Y/N!” Ashlie screamed from the kitchen. I came to a screeching halt in front of her at the counter. “Have you seen these?” I furrowed my brows as she angled her laptop screen towards me. Right on the landing page of the most popular magazine’s website was Harry’s picture. Stumbling out of a club with none-other than Kendall Jenner, hand in hand.

My brows furrowed even closer when I grabbed the laptop from the counter. I quietly walked to the couch and sat down. ‘Eligible bachelor, Harry Styles couldn’t seem to get enough of the model as they were seen being cozy all night at popular night club, Avalon Nightclub downtown Washington, D.C.’

Would this jeopardize my mission? How would Thompson handle this? What now? Was he really done with me just like that?

With too many thoughts to process, I sat the computer next to me and stared at the blank TV. The weight of the couch shifted next to me. Ashlie slid her arms around my torso and rested her head on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” She was trying to be empathetic; I know. But I also didn’t want her pity.

“It’s okay,” I tilted my head to rest on top of hers. “Who needs him anyways?”

Wait, I do.

//

I stared out the window behind Mr. Thompson. He tapped his fingers in pattern on his desk, other hand resting on his cheek.

“Miss. Y/L/N.” He started, stopping his fingers from tapping. I flicked my eyes to his. “I knew this would be hard, having the type of personality he does. He doesn’t – doesn’t have a long attention span when it comes to women.”

I looked back to the window, admiring the cars streaming by on the 695. I already knew that. We all knew it. You thought one of your agents could change him? People don’t change because you want them to. They change because they want to.

When I didn’t offer a response, Thompson continued. “Did something happen after the benefit? After we unplugged you?”

I thought back to that night. Our drive home was filled mainly with his giggles and slurred pick-up lines.

“I don’t think – “ I didn’t kiss him. He wanted to kiss me, and I didn’t. “He wanted to kiss me, Mr. Thompson.”

“You didn’t kiss him, right?”

“Yes.” He quirked an eyebrow. “No, I mean – yes, I didn’t kiss him.” I clarified. I wanted to though.

“Miss. Y/L/N, we’ve brought in Mr. Horan. Head of his security. ”Thompson waved to Mr. Horan through the window. The screech from the chair next to me as it slid across the tile floor. My eyes flashed to the man next to me. Niall. Now it makes sense.

“Miss. Y/L/N,” Niall cleared his throat, “Nice to see you again.”

“You as well, Mr. Horan.”

“As you know, Mr. Horan here is the head of Mr. Styles’ security and  has been keeping an eye on him since the beginning of President Styles’ term. He’s here to shed some insight and help us through this obstacle. He knows Harry the best, so we will have his assistance for matters like this.” Mr. Thompson gestured to Niall to start speaking about what he knows.

“Yeah, so” Niall shifted in his seat and crossed his ankle at the knee. “Harry’s a bit frustrated. He feels like, I don’t know. That you – “ I caught his eyes drift to mine – “aren’t ‘interested’ in him anymore”

I scoffed at the remark, earning a glare from Mr. Thompson. “Miss. Y/L/N, a problem?”

“Sorry it’s just – “ I took a deep breath to calm my nerves, resting my palms on my thighs – “He feels like I’m not interested? When three days after the benefit he’s out gallivanting around D.C? That’s ridiculous.”

“See,” Niall turned towards me, “That’s just it. That’s how Harry copes. He doesn’t have healthy coping mechanisms. He thinks the best way to get around his issues is to drink them away. It’s why he drank so much at the benefit. It’s why he drinks so much in general.”

It explains a lot. He had told me that he’s been under stress, and I can only imagine how much stress he feels from having to live up to a perfect image that he can’t attain with his reputation.

“So, what do I do?”

“I’ve tried to knock some sense into him. I may protect Harry for a living, but he is my friend, and I care about him and his feelings.”

//

The Saturday sun was warm on my skin. I stared at the clouds in the sky, listened to the kids playing about 50 feet away, and the ducks in the pond. I should be at the gym, I reminded myself. Or at least running.

It’d been a week since I last saw Harry, part of me missed him. Thompson said he was going to work with Niall and how to get the boy back on track. Why me out of all people? There were so many young women in the FBI at this point, so why me? ‘Because we see the most potential in you. Half these women won’t make it another 6 months.’ Thompson’s voice rang in my ears from our conversation yesterday afternoon.

The bright darkness dimmed behind my eyelids. I opened one to see a figure standing above me. I jolted out of my comfort.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” I said sitting up and criss crossing my legs.

“Uh – “ raising a hand to the back of their neck – “Can we talk?”

“Yeah Summer, what’s up?” She sat opposite of me in the grass and looked around the park.

“It’s a nice day today, isn’t it?” Her eyes never settled on mine. She’s being cautious.

“Yeah, great day to be outside.” I looked over to the swimming ducks, still quacking at each other.

What I would give to be a duck right now. Not having any worries about whether or not my job was still intact. If my friends hated me for lying to them. If the boy I liked was done with me before even having a chance to know me, and really me.

“So,” Summer started after a few minutes of silence. I looked at her expectantly. “Someone dropped by today to see you.” My heart jumped; my palms started to sweat. Was Harry at my apartment?

“Harry?”

“Uh – “ she faltered – “No, Louis?” I scrunched my brows, confused. I wracked my brain trying to figure out who Louis was. “He said he’s a friend. You apparently met him at the Benefit? I told him you were out and didn’t know when you’d be back. He said to call him and left his number.” I looked at my crossed ankles. Oh, Louis. Wait, Louis took that picture of me and Harry. What does he want? “Do you know him?”

I looked back at Summer. “Yeah, he’s… he’s one of Harry’s friends.”

“You should probably call him, he looked in a rush.” I lifted my head in a nod, letting my eyes fall to the grass between us. A comfortable silence took over. “Y/N, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about whatever happened between you and… him. But I’m here for you if you do.”

“I know that, Summer. Thank you.”

//

I took a few steps into my room and tossed my purse onto my bed. I decided I should give Louis a call to see what’s going on.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Louis. It’s Y/N. I heard you stopped by today.”

“Oh!” He sounds surprised. His tone quickly hushed. “Y/N, thanks for calling. Yeah, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay,” I sat in my desk chair with one leg tucked under me. “What’s going on?”

“Can you meet me?” There was a long pause.

“Wh – “

“In an hour, at the park by the white house.” Before I could respond, I heard the click of him hanging up.

What?

//

I didn’t take much time to get ready to meet Louis. I threw a gray zip up sweatshirt over my tank top and slipped on my flare jeans with converse and was on my way. Louis texted me to say he wanted to ask me a few questions about the benefit – for a promotion he was working on for his company.

The sun had set on my way over, the purple, black sky taking over the D.C air. I glanced at the sky as I stood by the lamp post in the park. The stars look beautiful tonight. My eyes kept traveling around the park. Something I was trained to do. Have your eyes everywhere at all times.

I heard him before I saw him. The heavy footsteps, deep breathing. He sounds troubled. I whipped my head in the opposite direction.

“Y/N?” He asked, pulling the hood off his head. I could only nod. “What are you doing here?”

“I – “ I was off the script. No earpiece with Thompson telling me what to do, who to be, anything. “Just out for a stroll.” Harry stared at me as if he wasn’t really seeing me. He shook his head, his long locks falling in front of his face. He ran his hand through his hair, pulling the pieces that had fallen from his face.

“By… the white house?” He asked incredulously.

“Yeah, I love this park. Very peaceful with some great views.” I concluded. Louis sent me here, he knows what he’s doing. He and Harry are longtime friends. They must’ve talked.

“Right…” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking around.

“I wanted to talk.” “We should talk.” We spoke at the same time. Our eyes locked before breaking into giggles and looking at our feet.

“You go ahead,” Harry encouraged.

“Why didn’t you call me?” I asked.

“I –“ He rubbed the back of his neck. “How drunk was I that night?”

I blinked harshly, not expecting him to ask that. “What?”

“I don’t remember much after slamming my drink right before we left and…”  He took a step away from me. “I was a little embarrassed and I wasn’t sure if I said or did anything wrong and… I thought if I held off for a bit then it wouldn’t be a big deal…”

“So why still didn’t you call?” Harry shook his head, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“You didn’t get my voicemail?” He quirked his head.

“What voicemail?”

“Y/N, I called you like three times.”

“What?” Then it hit me. Thompson. Thompson tapped my phone when starting the mission to have all the details. But why?

“I just kinda thought you were done with us and I had done something after the benefit.”

“Harry, I had no idea. Honest… Is that why you went out with Kendall?”

He laughed at my question. “I haven’t gone out with Kendall. I haven’t seen her in months. Those pictures are from like… November.” I was bewildered.

I composed myself before speaking, “I’m sorry to have assumed the worst…”

“It’s okay,” he stepped closer. “Can I come to your place?”

“Right now?”

He glanced at his feet and back to me, “Yeah.” He murmured. Only meaning to be heard between us two.

“Are you okay?” I tucked some stray hair behind my ear, shifting my weight from my left foot to my right.

“I just – I just don’t want to go back yet. I had to sneak out and I just need some time away.” Running one hand through his hair, he grabbed my hand with the other.

“Okay.”

The ride to my apartment was quiet. Harry didn’t say much about what was going on within the White House walls, although I’m sure I would find out come Monday, if not sooner. I was trying to read his moving eyes, but there wasn’t much to tell. His eyes told a completely different story than his lips.

His lips spoke of stress and hardship. His eyes shine like the moon over a Georgia river in the dead of night.

When I finally parked my car in the lot, Harry slid out of my car with grace, taking my hand as each of us rounded the back of my car.

“This is it,” I sighed when opening the door to my apartment.

“Wow,” He looked from the kitchen to the living room before turning to face me, “Cute.”

“Oh my gosh,” I whipped my head to see Ashlie coming into the entrance in a towel from the hallway – clearly not expecting company.

“Uh – Hi.” Harry awkwardly waved.

“Hi, wow. Wasn’t expecting you.” She gave a small smile and gestured to her attire.

“It’s not a problem. Nice to meet you,” Harry extended his hand for her, which she gladly took,  “I’m Harry.”

“Oh, I know who you are. I’m Ashlie.” Ashlie let out a flirty giggle. You know, the kind you hear at a bar when a girl is trying too hard to let a man know his jokes are ‘funny’.

“We’ll uh – be in my room.” I remarked, breaking up the awkwardness I could feel radiating through the room.

Harry trailed behind me, telling me he thought Ashlie seemed nice.

“How many roommates do you have?” He questioned, taking a seat on the foot of my bed.

“Two. My other roommate, Summer, is probably at her boyfriend’s.” I hung my hoodie over the back of my desk chair and took a seat on it backwards so I could face him. Harry nodded his head before letting his body fall back onto my bed. “So, what’s going on? At home?”

“It’s nothing,” He groaned, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles.

“It’s obviously something if you’re sneaking out and wandering parks at night without guards. How’d you even get away with that anyways?”

“The White House has many escape routes that can’t be seen by the control room. I’ve found them all.” He stated, putting his hands behind his head.

“Interesting.” The silence that filled the room was deafening. “Harry,” I paused waiting for him to look at me. His eyes gradually found mine. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just tired of my family and the security telling me my behavior is ‘unacceptable’ because I’m the President’s son. I can’t go out with my friends. I can’t be seen with girls who are friends. I can’t have a drink in a bar.” He stood from my bed and started pacing around my room like his life depended on it. “When I’m in the White House, all I have is people barking orders in my ear, telling me what I can and can’t do. What I can and can’t wear. Who I can and can’t see? So, I guess,” Harry brought his hands to his head and started pulling his hair at the roots, “When I do get to go out with friends, I get carried away. Unfortunately, every time.”

I didn’t know what to say. What I want to say? I can relate. What can I say? Nothing.

When he moved to sit back on my bed, I joined him. He brought his chest between his knees and bowed his head, taking the stance of looking like he was about to vomit. I rested my hand on his back and tried my best to rub soothing circles between his shoulder blades, still looking for the right words. “Harry, I’m sorry. I had no idea that was something you had to deal with.”

“I know, because I don’t share that part of my life. Not with anyone. The only one who really knows is Niall. But that’s only because he’s with me when I’m out and that’s when it all comes out.” He lifted his head and turned to look at me. “He’s the only person I really trust. He’s my best friend and I trust him with my life. I know it’s his job to be there. But, he’s the only one I really have.”

“That’s not true. You have loads of friends. I’ve seen them in the pictures with you.”

“No, those people – while they’re nice to hang out with – they only care about my status. They care about Harry Styles, President’s son. Not Harry.”

“I – I don’t know what to say.” And I truly didn’t. Here he is, spilling his heart to me again, and I can’t even reciprocate without blowing my cover.

“You don’t have to say anything. I thought Niall was the only person that actually cared about me. As in Harry, the person. And then I met you.”

“What do you mean?”

Harry sat up and turned his body towards mine, grabbing both my hands in his.

“Y/N, I know you would never do anything to hurt me. You care about me. You ask me about me, not what my family is doing, or what bills are going through congress. Or even try to advance your career through me.”

My mouth got dry, but I felt like I was drowning. How can he not see through this act? When will I give it up? When will Thompson have it cut? His eyes bore into mine.

“I really like you, Y/N.”

“I – I like you too Harry.” I have to tell him; I have to tell him the girl he thinks he knows is not who she says she is. I have to tell him; this was all part of my job. But this isn’t. It’s not your job to be here with him right now.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” The proposition tore me from my thoughts. I got up and headed for the door, gesturing for him to follow me down the hall.

I plopped on the couch flipping the TV on. Harry sat next to me and flung his arm to the back of the couch behind me.

“Should we just search romantic comedies on Netflix and see what we find?” He looked over to me, nodding excitedly.

We flipped through Netflix for 10 minutes before finally deciding on 27 Dresses. The movie was the only thing that could be heard in the living room. At whatever point, Harry let his arm fall onto my shoulders and pulled me into him. I let my head rest on his shoulder as we continued watching.

“Hey Y/N?” I looked up at him, humming in response. “I’m sober now.” I scrunched my eyebrows and opened my mouth to speak, “Can I kiss you now?” My heart sped up, and my cheeks warmed with the blood rushing to them.

“I - I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” I let my head dip so I wasn’t looking at him.

“Why’s that?” He asked, confusion taking over his tone. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, but... I would really like to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I do. It’s just  - “ I thought of all the things that could possibly go wrong - the FBI busting into my apartment to have me arrested, me starting what feels like a real relationship based on lies, breaking his heart after he let me in.

“Then let me,” Harry cupped my cheek and brought our gazes together. I stared at him for a moment before lightly nodding.

His lips ghosted over mine before gently pressing together. I swear I could hear his heartbeat. Or maybe it was mine. I rested my hand on his cheek and his hand moved to my waist, pulling me as close as possible. It wasn’t heavy, and it wasn’t quick. It was soft and sweet, like him.

He pulled away and leaned back into the couch. A smile graced his face. I nuzzled back into him and pulled my feet up on the couch.

I woke up to the room completely dark, the only light coming from the dim light above the oven. I was still laying on Harry. I sat up, removing his arms from my waist. I grabbed my phone from the table to check the time. 2:36am. Oh shit, I turned back to wake Harry.

“Harry, Harry wake up. You have to go.” I shook him out of his sleep.

“What why?” He stirred, rubbing his eyes, barely coming out of his sleep.

“It’s 2:36AM.”

“Mmmmm comfy.” He closed his eyes again and rested further into the couch.

“Harry, no. You’re gonna get into trouble.” I stood up and grabbed his hands trying to pull him off the couch.

“No, I won’t”

“Harry,” I insisted. When he wouldn’t budge, I gave up. Flopping back into the couch.

“Can I just stay – you won’t even know I was here.”

//

I woke up in my bed. I looked at my clock next to me. 9:22am. Was it a dream? I sat up, same tank top. Same jeans. I searched for my phone to find it under my pillow with a sticky note.

Left around 5. Carried you to bed and didn’t want to wake you. Call me. – Harry

Sticking my phone in my back pocket, I pulled myself out of bed and let my feet guide me to the bathroom. What did I do? Why did I have to do that?

After staring at myself for almost two minutes, I decided to call Harry.

“Hello?” his voice was chipper.

“How’d you get home?” I asked, putting the call on speaker so I could wash my face.

“I took an Uber. I woke up to one missed call and one text from Niall asking if I was in my room from around 2. I figured it’d be best if I was back in the house before sunrise and not let anyone get suspicious.” At least he was thoughtful of other peoples’ sleep schedules.

“Ah, alright.”

“Yeah.”

“So, you wanted me to call you?” I stated, remembering his note.

“Oh, yeah! I’m picking you up for breakfast.” He said, I could feel his smile through the phone. Man does this boy get right back on the love train; I swear.

“You? Or Niall?” I teased, breaking into a smile. I grabbed my washcloth and wet it to begin washing my face.

“Ha ha. Funny. No, me. Just you, me, and some delicious breakfast.” He clarified. Should I tell Thompson? Probably.

“Okay.”

“I’ll pick you up in 30 minutes.” We said goodbye and felt my heart beating faster. I quickly texted Thompson to let him know what was happening. I started the shower and dropped my clothes. Washing everything quickly, I felt my nerves beginning to settle in. Should I even have said yes? What if Thompson doesn’t want me to? Too late.

When I got out, I checked my phone for a response.

Thompson – 9:37am: Earpiece.

He really was a man of few words. Powerful words, but few. I quickly blew dry my hair and changed into some leggings and a ¾ sleeve blouse. Finishing putting on some light makeup, I heard a knock on the front door.

“Harry!” Ashlie exclaimed, “Good to see you again.”

I walked out to see Harry looking awkwardly at her. She was asking how everything was going for him, to which he politely smiled and said “Fine, Thanks.” His eyes lit up when they connected with mine.

“Hey, you.” He smiled, pulling me in for a hug

“Hi,” I greeted, returning his smile and accepting his arms around me.

“Ready?”

‘Let me just grab my purse,” I said, backing away down the hallway towards my room. I quickly grabbed the earpiece from my drawer and inserted it into my ear. I grabbed my purse from my desk and started heading back to our entryway. I paused in the doorway, glancing at my open drawer with my pistol sticking out. I slipped it into my purse before returning to Harry.  “Okay, let’s go.”

Ashlie moved to the kitchen to make herself some breakfast, taking peeks over her shoulder at Harry. She shot me a wink as Harry opened the front door to lead us out.

When we were settled in the car, Harry turned to me. “First things first, I wanted to say thank you to you. For last night. And I’m sorry if I was intruding.”

“You weren’t,” I reassured him, “You never are.” As I finished my sentence, I heard the static in my earpiece. Thompson’s on.

“Morning superstar. I don’t know what happened last night, but good job getting him back.” If only he knew.

Harry turned on the radio for our drive. As we drove further out of the city, he told me how he loved some of the neighborhoods we were driving by. Mostly because he had friends living there that he made when we were in high school because Mr. Styles would often bring him to D.C., and he would meet other congressmen’s children.

I laughed at his jokes, and when he sang. Frankly, he can’t sing. But he does a very nice job trying.

When we pulled up to the café, I noticed it was quite small. Niall hadn’t brought us here on our previous brunch meetings.

“Where are we?” I questioned.

“Oh, my dad used to take me here in high school. I don’t get to come too often anymore. Ya know, security and everything.”

Right.

Breakfast went exactly how I thought it would. Harry talked about his life, asked me about mine, and Thompson fed me lines that apparently “Niall had done ‘research’, and this is what Harry wants to hear.”

But this time, when I laughed with Harry, I felt more genuine. My feelings were too. I really liked him. He was kind, generous, thoughtful. Everything a good man acted like.

When he dropped me off, Harry walked me to my door. I didn’t hesitate to kiss his cheek. Harry grabbed my hands and squeezed them.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” He glanced at his feet, letting a grin bless his features with his dimples showing perfectly. I nodded, squeezing his hands back. He pulled me into him for a hug. I wrapped my arms around his waist, not wanting to let go.

“Bye, Harry.” I opened the door when he let go of me.

“Bye, Y/N.”

The next week felt like it flew by. I would see Harry after work, either for dinner, a drink, a movie, a walk, really anything he could think of to see me.

Thompson would be in my ear, encouraging me. Sometimes he wasn’t, those were my favorite nights with Harry. I could be myself without having to worry about if Thompson thought ‘Well that wasn’t the right thing to say.”

//

My phone ringing brought me out of my sleep. I looked at the caller ID and immediately answered.

“Hello?” I greeted, rubbing the sleep from my left eye.

“Can you come over?” Harry asked, his voice cracking near the end. I pulled the phone away from my ear. 1:11am. After a pause he added, “Please?” The desperation in his voice was almost tangible. A shiver ran down my spine just hearing his broken voice.

“Yeah, of course.” I threw my covers off of me and grabbed my nearest pair of jeans. I pulled  them on and picked up one of Harry’s long sleeve t-shirts and ripped it over my head. “I’ll be there in 15.”

“Thank you,” he sobbed. “I can let you in by the east garden.” I hung up my phone and hesitated to grab my keys. I should take an Uber. Guards would see my car parked near the White House. I opened the Uber app and ordered a car.

“Morning ma’am.” Said Andrew, the driver.

“Morning,” I grumbled, climbing in the backseat.

“How was your night?” he asked, smiling at me through the rearview mirror.

“Could be better,” I sighed, rubbing my fingers into my temples.

“Oh, I totally get it,” he started. Andrew talked almost the entire way about his night. When he dropped me on the corner a block away from the White House, he concluded his rant with ��And that’s when I kicked him out. Well, I hope your night gets better! Life’s too short to have bad sex.” I gave him the best smile I could muster and got out of his car.

I walked up the street and crossed through an alley to get to the East garden. I saw a sliver of light coming from a shrub. The sliver of light grew bigger, giving away that it was actually a door. A disheveled Harry appeared in the light. As I got closer, I noticed his eyes were red and puffy. He’s been crying. When I was close enough, he instantly crashed his body into mine, holding me so tight I might combust.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” I asked, cuddling him closer. He let out a choked weep. “Come on, let’s go.” I said, pulling away. He grabbed my hand and led us through the tunnels.

When we got to the halls, Harry looked around every corner, checking for guards before sneaking us to his room. The door clicked shut and the only thing I could hear were his soft sniffles. I took in the room before me. It was large and decorated for a king. There were items scattered, a chair tipped over, and a lamp lay broken on the floor next to his bed.

He took a seat on the edge of his bed, lowering his head with his hands covering his face. I walked over and took a seat next to him. I placed my hand on his shoulder and took another look around.

“Harry,” I whispered. “What happened?”

“He’s so disappointed in me.” He mumbled, barely audible. His body shook with sobs, soft enough to go unnoticed by anyone passing by.

“Who? Your dad?”

“He said his approval rate has barely gone up, and when he asked the cabinet about it, they – they told him it was my fault.” My heart broke at his words.

“Harry, I’m so – “

“He doesn’t get it. No one does,” he ripped himself from my grasp and stood in front of me, facing the door. “I have him, his cabinet, members of the staff, media, friends, everyone constantly yelling at me. Just because I want to go out and be normal. Live a normal life.” He was facing me now, arms flailing around to get his point across. “And as soon as I get something right, it’s not good enough!”

“What do you mean?” I inquired. I stood up and placed my hands on his shoulders, leading him back to sit down. “Talk to me.”

“You,” he stated as if it was obvious. When I didn’t respond, he continued. “Ever since I met you, I’ve been trying to better myself. Not go out as much, get away from the crowd that only talked to me because they want something. I haven’t had any interest in doing that because – well. I want to be the best man I can. For you.”

I stood straight at his confession. I was left speechless. I took a deep breath before kneeling on the ground in front of him. I opened my mouth and closed it again, not knowing what to say.

“Harry, I – I’m proud of you for doing all of that.”

“Well I’m glad someone is,” he exclaimed. He threw himself back onto his bed and covered his face with his hands.

I got up and sat next to him, criss crossing my legs. I grabbed his hands from his face and held them.

“I’m sure your dad is proud of you too. He just doesn’t know how to say it.” I tried to assure him.

“Yeah because ‘if you would’ve kept the clean image like I told you to’ screams ‘I’m proud of you.” He groaned. He grasped my hands and brought them to his chest.

“Well, let’s think about this. Your dad is the President. He has a lot of people to answer to, and I’m sure he’s under a lot of stress.” I explained to him, rubbing circles on the backs of his hands

“I know, I know. But like, there’s a way to talk to your kids.”

“Yeah, and I’m not saying how he handled it was correct. I’m just saying, from his perspective, he’s probably not mad. Just frustrated. And I’m sure he’s proud of you for trying to better yourself.” I paused, glancing at the door. “Maybe you should just talk to him about how this experience has been for you. I know you haven’t and that might help him to better understand where you’re coming from.” I concluded.

“You’re right. I should probably try to talk to him in private.”

“Wanna hear a joke?” He nodded, cracking a small smile. “What did the drummer name his daughters? Anna one, anna two!” His giggle filled the quiet room, a chuckle left my own lips. He pulled me down, so my head was resting on his chest.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He tucked my hair behind my ear and caressed his hand down my cheek.

“I’ve been told,” I joked, returning the smile he gave me.

“No, I’m serious,” He looked at the ceiling before continuing, “You give really good advice that makes me think from another perspective, and you can make me laugh even when it feels like my world is crashing - not even two minutes ago.” He glanced back down at me. My eyes never leaving his face.

We stayed like this for a while. Talking about life, things we believed in, conspiracy theories, the best type of pasta (Tortellini was unanimously voted), everything.

Harry walked me back to the East Garden entrance around 3:00am.

“Are you sure you can’t stay the night? Niall can just drop you off in the morning.” He tried one last time.

“I’m sure, Harry.” I let out a quiet laugh. “But hey – maybe we should just keep this between us two? I don’t want to get any weird looks from m –“ I stopped myself before the words ‘my coworkers’ escaped my lips, “your guards.”

“Of course, don’t worry.” He kissed my forehead and watched as I waited for my Uber. Occasionally throwing out pick-up lines. My favorite being ‘Are you a time traveler? Because I can see you in my future’ I casually waved as the Uber pulled up.

“Y/N?” She asked. I nodded and opened the door. I took one last look towards the entrance, seeing just the crack of light, knowing Harry was watching through it.

//

The next few weeks continued like this. Harry sneaking out to my house, and me to his. Each time learning new secret passages that brings me to his wing, or his room. It got to be exciting, really. Seeing Harry without Thompson in my ear. I had somehow convinced him to keep Niall out of the loop of our late-night meetings. But, of course, going on public outings was a different story. Niall would be waiting in a blacked-out SUV, I had my earpiece in, and I had to give Harry lines fed from Thompson every other sentence.

Sitting in Thompson’s office was something I should be used to by now. However, ever since Harry and I began having our midnight rendezvous, I had been anxious every time Thompson was even so much as in the same building. Although Harry and I haven’t so much as kissed since that night in my apartment, every time I saw him, I could feel the sexual tension radiating off him like I was standing next to a bonfire. He was waiting for me to make the first move, which I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. It would put so much more confusion into this already sticky situation.

Harry has grown into my friend. Of course, there was romantic interest. But I couldn’t jeopardize my cover. To him, I was Y/N Y/L/N. Marketing director for Accent. Small town girl from Carolina. I went to college for Business. I have my mom and two younger brothers back home who encouraged me to follow my dreams and move to D.C. If he knew who I really was. We could never have a relationship. If he knew I was being paid to play his romantic interest, things would never be real for us.

“Miss. Y/L/N,” Thompson’s serious tone tore me from my thoughts, “We’re aware that things have gone swimmingly since Mr. Styles had picked you up for breakfast a couple weeks ago. But how are you?”

“Yes, sir,” I agreed. “I’m well. He seems to be just fine. Hasn’t been as much in the spotlight. And the press - ”

“Miss. Y/L/N,” His tone lightened a bit. Thompson clasped his hands on his desk and softened his eyes toward me. I locked eyes with him as he continued. “Y/N, how are you doing?” His question took me by surprise. Thompson is always business. Hard-core authoritarian and never cares about sick days, let alone mental health days. He didn’t care if you were vomiting on the curb, you better show up for duty.

“I – What?” I asked, bewildered. My jaw fell slack, and I prayed he couldn’t hear my thoughts.

“Y/N, I know this must be extremely hard on you. I know I asked a lot of you when I assigned you to this. I want to be sure you’re doing okay. You two spend a lot of time together and I know how charming he is. I’ve met him on several occasions.” He chuckled, pushing his chair back and coming to sit next to me.

I turned toward him and put on a poker face. “Mr. Thompson, I know the longevity of this mission, and I know what a great deal of stress this is putting on everyone involved as well.” I couldn’t help it, I let my face fall into one of agitation. “But when I’m with him, I can’t help but think of how real it is for him. How would he feel if he knew that my interest is just a hoax? That it’s part of my job description to play this part?”

Thompson moved out of his chair and moved to the windows that looked out into the office. He took his time shutting the blinds before he came to sit in front of me on his desk.

“Y/N,” He started, the unease in his voice was something new. “I know your concern for his emotions is genuine. It’s part of why I hired you. You fully invest in what you’re doing. And that’s a trait that’s hard to come by nowadays. But I also hired you because I know how tough you are. You don’t let people push you around. You’ve truly shown your character with this.”

He took a long glance out the window at the cars driving down the 695. Did he have children? I never asked. We weren’t supposed to ask our superiors about their personal lives. The office and field were strictly professional.

“The unfortunate part of our jobs, is the mere fact that everyone we interact with, is part of our job. Whether it’s a civilian on the street, or the Queen of England. We’re on guard the whole time. Take Niall for instance.” He finally brought his gaze back to mine. “Niall is the closest we have to getting inside Mr. Styles head. To understand his motives and how he may be putting a risk to himself. That’s where we come in.”

“I don’t under – “

“Like Niall, we have Joe. Joe is the head of security for President Styles. President Styles may not understand what we’re doing at the time. But always comes to thank us later.”

“Mr. Thompson,” I let the confusion slide onto my face. “With all due respect, I don’t understand how this relates.”

“What I’m saying Y/N, is that, even though it may not seem like it, we do have Mr. Styles’ best interest at heart. But to do that, we need to be on the inside as well.”

I left Thompson’s office feeling even more anxious than before I entered. The phone ringing in my pocket halted my movements. Harry was trying to FaceTime me. I took a sharp right and entered the nearest bathroom, locking the door behind me.

“Hey,” I greeted him through the screen. He was in a car, driving. His sunglasses were pulled onto his head, pushing his chocolate locks out of his face.

“Hi! Oh – I’m sorry. You’re at work, aren’t you?” He apologized.

“Oh – yeah,” I fibbed. I hated this. I wanted to scream how I didn’t work at Accent and haven’t the slightest clue what marketing strategies were. You’re in too deep at this point, slick.

“How about I come pick you up for lunch? I can say hi to Rich.” He excitedly proposed.

“I can’t today, I’m sorry. I – uh” Think Y/N, think. “I’m actually in a business meeting with a prospect. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. What’re you doing tonight?”  He didn’t even seem fazed. He had grown used to my typical 9-5 day. That was actually midnight to midnight and being on call over the weekends. I, technically, was always working.

“I think Ashlie was cooking some homemade eggplant Parmesan. What’s up?”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come over tonight. Maybe watch a movie with some popcorn?” He gave a light smirk, before turning it into a full grin.

“I could be up for that. After dinner?”

“Do you want me to send a car to get you? Or would you like to sneak in as usual?” There was a hint of  annoyance laced in his voice. He seemed to be getting tired of sneaking around.

“I can get myself there,” I stifled a laugh, trying to lighten his mood. “East Garden?”

“Yeah, okay.” I felt bad, that I couldn’t just stroll up to the main doors of the white house. But what security didn’t know didn’t hurt us. Well, me.

I arrived at the East Garden at 8:58, Harry was waiting with the door slightly cracked, as he had continuously done throughout our little meetings.

“Hey, ninja,” He smirked.

“Ninja?” I giggled as he pulled me into a hug. He rested his head atop mine, arms around my waist.

“Yeah, I think it suits you.” He snickered.

“If only you knew,” I whispered. I pulled away, “Shall we?” He reached for my hand, interlocking our fingers. Something I had grown accustomed to.

We settled in his room, laying back on the pillows. He pulled me into his chest as The Notebook started.

“Hey Y/N?” He gingerly murmured into my hair. Feeling the day weigh on my eyelids, I offered a hum in response. “How much do you. Ya know, like me?”

My eyes flew open at the question. My heart shook my toes with how hard it was beating. “What do you mean?” Trying to keep my voice even, I tilted my head to look up at him.

“Like, we’ve been seeing each other for a bit now, so I was just wondering like.” He grabbed my left hand and gave it a squeeze, “What are we doing?”

“Harry I – “ I took a deep breath. You knew it was coming. Play stupid. “I don’t follow.”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

I sat up and turned to him, criss crossing my legs. “Harry, as much as I care about you,” The words were harder to get out than anticipated. “I really enjoy what we have going on. And, I mean, with your status. I’m nervous about it … blowing up. Does that make sense?” I shook my head at his disapproving eyes. My voice started to waver as I continued, “I’m sorry, I just. I know how nasty the media can be and…”

Harry bolted up, grabbing my face ready to wipe any tears that could fall. “Hey, I don’t want you to apologize. I just, I don’t know. I feel like you don’t want to be seen with me or something. Even around my own house…” his voice trailed as he looked down at his own legs.

I took the opportunity to grab his hands, rubbing circles into their backs. “Harry, I promise that I really care about you. I just, I’m not ready for something like that.”

“Okay, I understand.” His gaze peered back up to me. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to pressure you. I would just really love to show off the woman that has stolen my heart.” I stole his heart and felt mine drop. “Will you let me know when you are?” I could only nod. “Come on, let’s lay back down. I love this movie.”

I don’t know when Harry fell asleep. His soft snores filled the room long before the movie ended. I couldn’t move, but I had to get out of here. I had to tell Thompson I couldn’t do it anymore. I checked my phone for the time. 4:27. I have to go home. I carefully unhooked Harry’s hand from mine. I gathered my things from his desk before spotting a notepad. I glanced over at the sleeping boy. You at least owe him the courtesy to write him a note that you were leaving. He’s done the same before.

I scribbled a simple “Couldn’t sleep, call me tomorrow. - Y/N” On the paper before putting it next to him on the bed.

I cracked the door open as quietly as possible and stuck my head through the crack, looking for any potential sign of life. I slid my body through the door and shut it as lightly as possible. I ran my hands down my face and started down the hall.

“Y/N?” I froze as I was about to round the corner. I slowly turned around to find a confused Niall standing at the other end of the hall. He took several glances between me and Harry’s door. “What are you doing here?” His tone was cold.

“Niall, I – I didn’t think you’d be roaming the halls this early in the morning.” I tried to laugh it off while taking several strides towards him.

He stared at me dumbfounded. “Does Thompson know you’re here?” He took my blank expression as an answer. “So how long has this been going on?”

“Niall, it’s not what it seems.” I defended.

“No, you’re just sneaking over to the WHITE HOUSE in the middle of the night for no reason. Not to hook up with Harry?”

“Niall, it’s really not like that!” I raised my voice slightly.

“Then tell me what it’s like Y/N. You know this could jeopardize the mission!” Niall raised his voice higher than mine. Not seeming to care if other guards heard him.

“I’m being his friend, Niall!” I cried. ‘That’s all.”

“Being his friend?” He asked bemused. “I don’t think FRIENDS do what you’re doing, Y/N.” His voice lower this time.

“Niall, I’m just trying to do the best I can! There’s no precedent for stuff like this! He calls, I answer. If he asks me to be there for him, I am. Like three weeks ago when he had an all-out meltdown!” My hands swung from my sides, to cover my face.

“That’s my job Y/N, not yours. I’m the one he calls to handle situations like that.” He stated the obvious, raising his eyebrows. He spoke almost as if he was telling a three-year-old that they couldn’t jump off the monkey bars because they could get hurt.

“Yeah, Niall. I know it’s your job. But have you been doing it? Are you really his friend and have you been handling it?” I countered his argument. If Niall was the one to handle situations like that, then why did Harry call me instead?

“Y/N, I leave him alone when he gets like that. When he’s ready to talk, he does. I think I know him a little better than you.” Niall crossed his arms over his chest, his eyebrows furrowed, and his voice was ear-piercingly serious.

“Do you, Niall? Do you really? You may know about everything he’s going through professionally, but –“ I took a deep breath, composing myself so my voice was even. “Do you even know the real him? The sensitive Harry that talks about how hard this life is?” I paused taking in Niall’s cold expression

“How about the Harry that’s favorite color is yellow, or that he loves rom coms because they always end happily? Or what about the Harry that’s just trying to cope because this isn’t the lifestyle he planned or hoped for? Do you even know him Niall?” My voice crippled as I finished my rant.

Niall doesn’t know him. Niall knows what he needs to know so he can report to Thompson at the end of the week. Trouble he got into, bars he went to, where the paparazzi who photographed his every move worked so they can get the pictures back from his blacked-out adventures.

“Miss. Y/L/N,” Niall’s voice was too evenly keeled. “At least I know my place, when it comes to my job. Unlike you, who has no issues crossing clear boundaries. I will be pleased to inform Mr. Thompson of your little rendezvous with Mr. Styles this evening.” He turned his back before flicking his face over his shoulder, “And I’m sure we can find out about all the others as well.”

“What?” Niall froze in his tracks; I was too afraid to turn around. “What’s going on?”

I turned to find a red-faced Harry standing in the doorway to his bedroom.

“Harry,” our voices came in unison.

“You – Niall. Mr. Thompson?” The confusion took its rightful place on his face. “This,” Harry glanced at his sock clad feet. “This was a set up?” I couldn’t find the words to defend myself. “How did you – when were you – “ The unfinished questions never left his lips.

“Harry, I can explain.” My voice was thick. It almost hurt to get the words out. If I didn’t vomit when explaining to him why I like the privacy, it was sure about to come up now.

“You both… you both…” another unfinished question. He shut his door behind him and started walking in the opposite direction of both Niall and me. I gave a desperate glance to Niall, who quickly motioned for me to follow him.

“Go, you should talk to him.” His voice was soft. We both knew this wasn’t how it was supposed to play out. “Better you than me right now.”

I jogged to catch up to Harry. “Harry wait,” I called reaching out for his hand. He quickly swiped it from my grip and quickened his pace. “Harry, please let me explain!” I cried.

“Explain what?” He growled, stopping in his tracks. I stopped just before I crashed into him and took a step back. “Explain how you can go about your day just - just lying to me? About everything? Making me feel these things for you?” His voice was exceptionally hard, barely able to detect the hurt laced through.

“Harry, I’m sorry,” I whispered. ”I – “

“Sorry for what.” He barked, whipping around to face me. “Sorry for making me trust you, or sorry for getting caught in your big scheme.” His words rifled through me like he took an AR-15 to my heart. You should’ve known this could be the outcome. “Whatever you’re sorry for, I don’t want to hear it. See yourself out, I’m done.”

His shoulder bumped me as he walked past. I turned to watch him go back down the hall and around the corner back to his room. I remained motionless when I heard his door slam shut. I felt the wetness of a single tear rolling down my cheek and quickly raised my hand to wipe it away.

How could you have been so stupid, Y/N?

#Harry Styles #harrystyles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles ff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles au #harry styles and y/n #harry styles x oc #harry styles x ofc #harry styles blurb #harry styles boyfriend #one direction fanfiction #one direction #one direction ff

[widowsofchaos]

Pretty please do #51 with Steve Rogers.

Sweet Dreams

summary: the Captain has only eyes for you.

pairing: darkish!Steve Rogers x black!reader

warnings: mention of alcohol, drunk reader, dark yet soft yandere Steve, somnophilia, vaginal intercourse. dub non-con. Requested prompt 51: “Are you trying to seduce me? Depends. Are you seducible?”

a/n: Finally writing for my fav Captain. <3 requested from this prompt list. shoutout to @punani for helping with the “isn’t this your dream, princess” line for the smut. Thanks so much, boo. <3 xoxo T

do not repost my works!

“You’re doing it again, pal.”

A gruff chuckle could be heard behind Steve - earning a grumble under his breath. The greenery that swirled in his oceanic orbs blackened, and dilated into inky madness; his thick brows peering over his muscular shoulder.

Staring, gawking -- admiring.

“I’m not doing anything, jerk.”

“Punk, please–” an airy snicker, “I know you like the back of my metal hand.” Another snicker, “Even after over seventy years, and you still can’t talk to a dame.” Bucky took a quick gulp of Asgardian ale, his upper lip sneering in satisfaction.

Fueling his mischief.

“Shut it, jerk.” A forced chuckle slipped from Steve’s pink lips, finally facing his long-time companion, grumbling at his best friend’s smug grin. Clicking his jaw tightly, not willing to admit it.

No one can read Steve like an open book like Bucky can.

No one ever.

Brotherly adoration manifested in sibling bickering, always prodding and pushing each other’s buttons.

“Go talk to her.” Bucky’s stormy baby blues searching for a familiar Nubian beauty among the obnoxious faceless crowd that’s festering within the extravagant Stark party.

In his view, he found you sitting on the couch next to Sam, adorable tipsy giggles escaping you. Friendly coziness, you were resting your head on Sam’s shoulder. Now aware why his best friend is fuming at the ears.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” A huff of breath escaped through Steve’s flared nostrils. Denial beating against his fractured mind like a Cherokee drum.

A smirk grew slowly on Bucky’s chiseled bearded jaw, he tsked, his eyes focusing back on Steve’s face, “Alright. Good to know.” Bucky deadpanned — with a touch of a tease, deliberately taking small sips, never wavering his eyes from Steve.

Steve’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, “I’ve been meaning to ask Y/n out anyways...” Steve snarled at Bucky. Bucky leaned over, wagging a finger in Steve’s face.

“I’m gonna dunk my dick in her–”, grinning placidly. “Jerk!” Steve roared in a raspy hush at Bucky, punching his metal arm repeatedly, rearing metal meeting Steve’s swinging knuckles.

Tears were forming in Bucky’s eyes as he belly-laughed, doubling-over in his stool— Bucky’s snorts was gaining other party goers’ attention.

Steve’s entire face was reddened – resembling a cartoonish bull fuming — quickly realizing that confused, and amused eyes were zeroed on the super soldier duo.

Nervously his dilated eyes scan over multiple faces, incoherent apologies slip from his lips, only to stumble upon you chuckling, giggles fumbling over your manicured fingertips muffled your lips.

Steve quickly tore his gaze away, his forearms crossed on the marble counter. Sulking and hiding himself against his arms; like an angry toddler.

Muffled embarrassment could be heard within Steve’s arms, his choppy groans and breaths fogging the transparent counter glass, an amused guffaw hissed through Bucky’s teeth.

Patting Steve’s sculpted shoulder blade, “Twah. Don’t worry about me, Stevie. Because tweety over there would probably beat me to the punch. Have you seen the way he gawks at her?” A sing-song jab.

Push. Shove. Goating Steve to grow a pear, hit a nerve for him to finally snap. Knowing full aware that Steve deserves an ounce of happiness – two men forced out of their time, lost possible futures due to out-of-control occurrences, but now?

Why not try to make a new future finally by their own hands? Take what they want. Bucky and Steve deserve it after everything they knew was ripped from them.

Steve’s blonde-head short up, “Don’t say that!” A raspy bark, but no bite — not for Bucky at least. A wolf ready to chomp a particular bird’s head off.

“Then ask her out!” Bucky jabbed his finger in Steve’s chest. “I’m tired of you moping around, staring at her like a sick puppy.” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“All that pining -- just get your dick wet already, Stevie.” A harsh cough caved through Steve’s throat.

“Jesus -- what’s with you tonight?” He grinned at a howling Bucky, a swell of relief but mild humiliation bubbling at the pit of his stomach.

Right before his eyes is a vision from the past, this is the closest Steve has witnessed Bucky to three sheets to the wind in a long time -- a cocky sailor-mouthed Casanova slurring flirty innuendos in a dame’s ear, promising necking behind the church, and a call back that will never occur.

Or the curious sixteen year old, who snuck miniature polaroids of stag porn; claiming it’s from his father’s stash -- gawking chuckles, and bashful gasps stifled in the silent night -- two curious boys beyond their years.

It’s refreshing. Bucky, the one last link to Steve’s past that reminds him of home. Bucky is his home -- but now, there is a beautiful being--not more than five feet away from him--who he yearns to create a garden within her heart and soul; you.

A grin slowly faltering to a genuine solemn smile, “You deserve it, Steve. You deserve her.” There he is. An emotional chameleon, faux cheeky ego veneering battle scars, years thick of abuse, and loneliness -- a molded machine guising a little boy. A flicker of vulnerability sheens in Bucky’s eyes, tittering hope of an old soul.

Steve opened his mouth to succumb to his natural instinct of denial, but Bucky cut him off, “Stop it.” A soft demand, gesturing his hand for Steve to shut it.

“How long are we going to suffer?” a swallow, “Reminiscing on what could’ve been. Imaging years after the war, getting married with kids. The all-American suburban dream.” He was getting misty-eyed.

“A pipe dream -- I’ve finally come to realize that it was never intended for us.” Bucky croaked, laughing it off as he downed more mead.

Steve sniffled, projectile vomit churning -- those aren’t his dreams anymore -- at least, not for a lost era. Those late-night thoughts ending with day-dreams buried in a tear-soaked pillow.

“I used to think if I dated Sharon -- I could regain a piece of Peggy back. Fulfill that hole in my heart.” Remorse, and disgust gurgling inside himself, “But -- I know that wasn’t right -- for either of us.” He stammered, his index finger tracing the rim of his glass.

“Peggy wasn’t the one for me. I just got attached to the first woman who saw me as myself -- she saw beyond the swarny loser.” Steve snorted, his throat constricting.

“You were never a loser.” Bucky spoke tenderly, “A loser wouldn’t have accomplished all that you did.” Bucky gripped Steve’s shoulder, a squeeze of reassurance.

He mumbled a thanks Buck with a curt smile. Steve hung his head a bit, gulping the last drops of his beverage.

Attached. What a silly word to describe the Captain’s past affection for Peggy Carter. He looks back to a time where he would’ve gotten on knee for her, and proposed.

Propose the promise of a better life together, with a bunch of rugrats running around, and saving the world.

Now? It’s a memory. The past. He’s learned to let go, accept his life for what it is -- despite having no choice in the manner. A man out of his time, adapting to the 21st century -- with its entertainments, trends, fashion, and evolved society.

Don’t even get Bucky, and himself started on food. Both men have engorged themselves on cusicines, vowing to never eat plain boiled meals again.

Steve’s genuinely thrilled that times have changed with more liberation for marginalized groups -- people being treated as humans, and exercising their rights.

But if anyone asked Steve Rogers what was the first thing he enjoyed since he got out of the ice? He would say you. Without a doubt, you have brought a light in his life -- a light he has been searching his whole life.

Your strength, poise stature, your sweet voice -- always following his orders on the battlefield, but stood your ground, a perfect dance of partners.

Your beauty is unmatched, classy, but never a prude. Sexy, intelligent -- he can go on, and on.

Steve leered over his shoulder again, his eyes focusing on you. Your head was still perched on Sam’s shoulder, Steve huffed.

How he desperately itches to snatch you off of Sam, and just cradle you all night. He sighed, rubbing his temples, “Hey Buck, I’m gonna take off.” Steve stood up, stretching his muscles, “Awh already, old man?” Bucky teases, snickering. “Goodnight, jerk.” Steve laughed, lightly punching Bucky’s shoulder.

Steve began trekking towards the elevator, passing by buzzed individuals. “Stevie.” A familiar seren voice beckoned him, followed by pitter patter. He turned a little too fast, but he didn’t care. It was you.

“Steve!” a slurred glee shrieked out of you, arms extended out to engulf the sculpted Herculan -- ensnaring him tightly around his neck, curious fingers twirling his combed angel-hair, his ears were forming red. A shiver crawled down his spine -- your touch is intoxicating. Your scent -- mouth-watering.

Quickly stilling your swaying, rubbing your face against his broad chest, “How are you?” your words muffled against the tight fabric, “I missed you.” A surprised huff left Steve, searching for Bucky, only to see his friend wiggle his eyebrows suggestively from the distance.

Ever so the gentleman, he didn’t dare lower his hands to a tantalizing region, locking his grip on your waist, “I’m okay, doll.” He chuckled, “How are you?” Sweetly shifting your body against him by the guide of one forearm on the nape of your back -- petting your curled dome, and swiping wild curls from your doe-eyes.

You hummed, squinty hooded-lids, a blissed placid smile, it's a bit goofy -- adorable nonetheless.

“S’good, Stevie.” Your head bobbled a bit, stifled giggles biting your lip. You lazily titled your head towards the elevator, then sloppily turned back to Steve.

“Where ya’ going, Stevie?” You pouted, and Steve just wanted to trace your bottom lip -- dig his thumb between your lips.

“I’m just gonna head to bed.” Steve’s babifyed his tone, “Sleepy too.” You murmured. Steve internally awed, as your head leaned back on his chest.

“C’mon, doll. Let me help you get to bed.” Steve chuckled. “Oh, how about I put you to bed, Cap--tin?” You slurred, stretching his formal title with a pause -- your eyes fluttered for a second, lazily jabbing his bicep with your finger.

Steve’s ears were dusted pink, shocked at your flirty attitude, catching onto your teasing manner. “Are you trying to seduce me?” Steve’s brazen confidence soared for a momentary lapse. A bit disappointed that most likely, you won’t recall any recollection of tonight’s event.

“Depends. Are you seducible?” You cheekily lightly smacked your lips, with a pout. Steve desperately wants to kiss that pout forever. But he restrained himself.

“Let’s go, Y/n.” He smiled sweetly. Steve lifted you more upward, guiding your feet so you won’t fall on your face.

Walking into the elevator Steve pressed your numbered button, his eyes caught Bucky, who wiggled his eyebrows, mouthing hushed words just for Steve’s advanced hearing, “That’s my boy.” Steve rolled his eyes playfully.

-

During the journey in the elevator, you fell out like a light. Steve carefully hoisted your limp body in bridal style. Steve gazed at you happily, the slope of your nose, your spidery lashes, ruffled curls -- how your breasts heaved under your purple sun-dress.

The ding of the elevator alerting Steve that you both are on your floor, interrupting Steve’s haze, he grumbled a bit but he began walking out towards your room.

Steve gracefully walked to your room, not even paying attention to his steps, focusing on your peaceful sleepy face. The path to your room is already memorized.

“FRIDAY, open Y/n’s door.” Steve pecked a lingering kiss on your forehead, “Of course, Captain Rogers.” The lock of your bedroom clicked open. Steve made himself home, a natural occurrence of him.

Strides towards your bed, gingerly placing you on the bed. Steve gulped, his fists straining at his side; his eyes stared up at the ceiling, counting to five.

Reprimanding himself; reminding himself that he should leave you be. Just like the times before.

But one look at you, and he’s a goner. He has to just touch you — oh God, please.

Shaky palms reach for the hem of your dress, grazing your skin as he perched the fabric upward. Savoring the smoothness against his fingertips.

Toned curves and planes of soft-scented, smooth sepia flesh; his heartbeat drumming out in a rapid rhythm, serene sleepy smile rests on your face. Pouty heart-shaped lips -- Steve’s cock twitch at the mere idea of slipping his veiny dick in your warm mouth, your slurping tongue gagging on his swollen balls.

But not yet. The scenery isn’t fitting -- next time.

Gingerly kneeling on your carpeted floor, Steve delicately seized one of your ankles, pinched tips toying with the leather straps; leisurely unclipping the sandals, he licked his bottom lip.

A wolf playing with its food, favoring the image of an anxious boy unwrapping his prize.

As his nimble fingers unlatched the straps off, steadily he tugged the sandal off, silently placing the shoe on the floor -- he repeated the exact action with the other foot.

Steve internally awed at your dainty feet, a small whine restrained by a tight-lip smirk. Hiking his clutch on your ankle, peppering modest kisses on the tips of your toes.

He couldn’t help but to worship you.

Hosting himself upward, tenderly repositioning your leg against the mattress.

Limbs spread eagle, your forearms perched above your dome like a mid-froze ballerina, the hem of your dress hiked up -- bundled, and wrinkled -- to your navel, exposing your lace thong.

A shuddering groan crawled up his throat,swallowing thickly, calloused fingers skate past the terrain of ankles to legs -- thumbs rubbing, savoring -- to waist, kneading slightly but only to flinch away.

Scared to break you, as if he’s too broken to handle your beauty properly. Steve grew the confidence within him, and quietly began removing your dress off your body.

His fingers sneak underneath the cotton dress, slipping it up towards your chin; clutching one arm to maneuver the short-end sleeve off.

A small groan vibrated in your throat, but you remained in a drunk slumber. Steve’s breath hitched, fearful for you to awaken with him hovering over you. To scare you off -- he just wants a taste.

To feel what’s his.

Presented before Steve was your bare essence; and he just wants to fall to your feet. All his sketches of your sleeping form doesn’t do justice, being able to view the entire masterpiece beyond hidden sketches.

“You’re so beautiful, doll.” He murmured, his lips foraging your chavlices.

You sleepily mumbled, a lazy smile curling just a bit. A lingering kiss on your hairline, Steve lowly hummed happily. Your bare breasts heave with your calm breathing, Steve littered your sheen skin with small kisses, a few kitten licks on your nipples -- the tip of his tongue swirling on the erected nubs.

Little whimpers, and moans swelled Steve’s cock. “My sweet little doll is so responsive … so sensitive.” Steve cooed. With much silent vigor, Steve unbuckled his pants, fumbling the fabric below his ass; just enough space to release his weeping cock.

His fingers hook your flimsy lace, tugging it by the side -- salivating at the mouth at your glistening mound. His thick fingers wrap around his cock, love taps by his swollen tip against your clit. You softly mewled in your sleep, a cute whine. Involuntarily your hips shifted, your body yearning for contact.

Steve tsked playfully at your impatience, “Even in your sleep, you need me.” Steadily Steve inserted himself inside your soft velvety walls, biting down on his lip to prevent a lew groan. He shivered internally, you feel heavenly.

Steve languidly thrusts, his fists crumpling your sheets underneath you. Slowly leaning half of his weight onto you, his light pants fanning on your face. Steve indents his elbow that was sunk just a bit in the mattress, trapping your head between himself.

“Isn’t this your dream, princess? Isn’t this what you’ve desperately wanted all this time?” Steve whispered in your ears, “Flirting with your Captain, naughty girl.” His fingers caressing your arms, soothing you back to a fluid state of sleep, a small loose smile adorning your face.

Licks his teeth, as he gently pushes his girth inside of you. Mumbled whines alert him, he shushes you, pecking little kisses on your cheeks while maintaining an agile insertion. Trembling slightly at the heavenly touch that is you, Steve hissed under his breath.

He preens as he finally is at a full brim. His pelvis against your vee, fully satiated between your thighs.

His heart pounding, snapping his hips slightly, your body jolts a bit underneath him. Steve’s chest tightens, as he pounds into you, the squelching wetness coating his cock.

His limbs twitches, struggling not to groan, or growl in pleasure. Steve’s head glides down to meet your heaving breasts, suckling onto the nipple.

Blinded by lust, he suckles, imagining it’s full of milk, a muffled grunt leaves him as he pictures you swollen with his child -- another on your hip. He rolls his hips, losing his control as the mellow pacing turns faster, more needy.

One day — one day, there will be a ring on your finger; and a litter of your own together. The Rogers — Mrs. Y/n Rogers; oh this is just beginning.

Eyes screwed shut, he keens to feel your rapid breathing spike, tremors shudder throughout your body. His golden hair is sweat slick against his forehead, a little pop from as he detaches himself.

Flickering the tip of his tongue against the nipple. Steve changes the angle of his cock, you jerk in your stupor, high-arch keen off the bed.

“That’s the sweet spot.” He hummed to himself. His voice scraped in a hush, “I can feel you tightening on me, doll.” It’s like a vice on his cock, blurry visions you dream -- his veiny cock pounding into you with no mercy.

“Steve …” You murmur, Steve leans more into you, a goofy grin of joy stretches on his face. “My sweet doll is dreaming of me. You can feel me.” Steve’s is over-joyed, his heart flutters, butterflies are rapid in his belly. You’re thinking of him. Pressing his chest against your breasts, “I’m going to cum, doll.”

Sneaky fingers snake itself between you both, rubbing your clit in circles, a breathy gasp escapes you.

“I love you.” Steve whimpers, painting your walls white -- not daring to let any ounce of cum escape. Biting his lips till it draws blood, preventing any roar.

His nose scrunches up, his muscles tighten. You exhaled, you slick dripping down Steve’s pants.

He kisses your lips gingerly, “Sweet dreams, doll.”

#buckybarnesplumwhore wrote this #steve rogers x reader #captain america #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers smut #dark steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers x black!reader #dark marvel

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 137

Trying to figure out Author’s notes is hard.... Sometimes I just don’t have anything pithy to say, or have too much to say and don’t know where to put it all.

Obviously I am an overthinker.

So, for the sake of everyone reading: Let’s cut to the Shoutouts!

The obvious first: @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, @anotherusrname, and @charlylimph-blog! I love all of you, you are the best.

Special mentions to: @zommbiebro bc I miss you and hope you’re okay. @nekohuntslight for being the OG person to message me about liking the story (yes, Bael, this is the dirty secret behind why I thought you lived in Australia when we first started talking.... shhhhhh). And alllllll the binge readers who blow up my inbox every day, Iloveyousomuchyoudon’tunderstand. Very much adore all of you, you have no idea how serious I am being right now. I need to go through and make one post just screaming all your names to the universe.

Tyche brought drinks and snacks from my kitchen before flopping on the couch in my quarters. The guys were at work, along with Antoine, but my office was closed down for the day. “How are you feeling about tomorrow?” she asked.

“Vati and Hannah have everything planned to the smallest detail,” I shrugged. “They’ve already coordinated with Xio and Evan for all the crowd control and monitoring shifts, and the murals are going up today.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m well aware of the logistics stuff. I literally handle all the staffing for the humans on the Ark, and Antoine was also part of the crowd control conversations.”

“Then why did you ask?” I laughed, grabbing a cracker and carefully stacking cheese and other toppings on it. 

Before I could get it to my mouth, she snatched it and held it out of my reach. “Because I’m asking how you feel. You’re only attending as… well, an attendee. No monitoring, no calling the shots, no working from the floor.”

She surrendered my cracker, but I found myself setting it down, appetite gone. “I’m okay - “

“Lie.” There was suddenly a finger levelled between my eyes like a gun. Just as quickly, it was lowered, and my sister was tilting her head at me. “Come on. You know you can’t lie to me - I’ve known you longer than literally anyone on this ship except yourself.”

“Fine! It’s weird!” I admitted in frustration, standing to pace and shoving my hands through my hair. “My skin is crawling with anxiety, my hands are twitching to snatch up the files and nitpick everything to the smallest detail….”

“Except they locked you out.”

“Except they locked me out, yeah. But I’m pretty sure I could get Derek to let me in, which is why I’ve made a point to tell him not to, no matter how much I ask.” Dropping my hands, I sighed. “But if I ever want to leave this position, I have to let them do this.”

She shrugged and stole my cracker, this time chewing and swallowing before she responded. “You could have kept some involvement in it, you know.”

“Pfft, yeah right. I would have taken it over, and you know that.”

“Yep.”

“Then why even ask.” I dropped back down on the couch.

“‘Cause you needed to hear yourself say it,” she explained, nonchalant as ever, snagging an olive and watching me calmly.

I sat in silence, processing it.  I hated when she outsmarted me like that, especially when she was right. “Can I at least eat first?”

She laughed and let it go, telling me how well the murals for the Festival were coming.  I hadn’t even gotten to - allowed myself - to see the designs, and the more Tyche talked about them, the more I wanted to see them.  By the time I finished my share of our snack, I decided to check out the progress.

We finally made our way to the decks where the Festival would take place, and I thought Tyche was going to die laughing at the way I gaped. The alcoves where the vendors would stage looked the same on first glance, but a closer look revealed very subtle shapes added that would give them a more savage, wild look in the right lighting. Metal sconces had been added to hold what looked like torches, but with special light emitters to simulate open flame. As we walked further, swirls of color revealed themselves slowly, first in light, curling tendrils, but slowly sharpening and taking on a more angular shape, twisting together into phantasmal images that vanished as soon as you tried to focus on them.

“It’s like walking through a garden, or a rainforest, but when I turn my head, I’m in a city.”

“Right?” she laughed as we came around the final corner. 

At this point, we were surrounded by this mural.  Just up ahead, there was a messy head of black hair tied back with a green piece of cloth. Bare feet and arms show smears of paint, and overalls covered a tank top - that, or the cloth for the hair had formerly been sleeves, I couldn’t tell.  One hand propped up on hips while the other hung down, holding a very familiar paint pen.

“Christ on a triscuit, Vati, this is incredible,”  I gasped softly.

She turned and smirked at me over her shoulder. “Not yet, but it will be when I finish.”

“I mean, all of it. The sconces…”

“Those were Hannah and Ivan.” Parvati walked over and touched one with her finger tip, stroking it gently.

Tyche made an impressed noise. “I’m only a little shocked that he had enough time.”

“The materials are on loan from the engineering departments, and we wanted them to be rather rough in the finishing. It helped. Sophia, no matter how curious you are, please do not lick the walls.”

A giggle bubbled up through my chest. “The thought never crossed my mind. I was trying to put together all the flavor profiles here. It’s… a lot.”

“Forgive me if I focused more on color than how the walls would taste. I don’t generally cook, remember.”

I stared down a swirl of pomegranate, popcorn, and gochujang. The colors - blue, pink, and yellow, respectively - worked well together, but the thought of the flavors made my stomach churn. “I solemnly swear not to lick the walls,” I promised. “How much of this are you expecting to still be up by the third night?”

“We have a team that will specifically come touch up the mural in specific places the morning before the second day.”

Tyche turned toward me and away from her study of the art. “Also, you would be surprised how much paint is on the walls. It will take a lot for Else to eat it all, once they are allowed in the area.”

“Before you ask,” Parvati cut me off. “We just asked them nicely. Well, Sam and Derek did.  They’ve become quite the ersatz diplomats to Else.” 

“Anything left?”

“Hannah is putting the final touches on the curtains for the alcoves and the seating areas. She’ll have a team installing them tonight once I finish.”

It was clever, and explained why she was only touching up part of the mural halfway between now and the closing of the event. “You two have really put your stamp on it.”

“Feel better?” She held one hand up gesturing at the entire entire project, eyebrow arched  to show me that she hadn’t been fooled for a moment.

I rubbed my neck, and glanced at her from underneath my eyelashes. “Busted, I guess.”

“That would imply that anyone had believed your charade,” she smirked.

Taking a deep breath, I looked around us again. “I honestly do. I could never have done all this. Holding on would have…”

“Kept you in a position you frankly hate,” Parvati interrupted gracefully. “It’s the same reason Sebastian went back to the Undine. He’s passionate about it, and it shows in the quality of his work.” When I gaped in insult, she held up a hand. “Not everyone can succeed through fear of failing and a determination that things be done right if they must be done at all.”

“Everyone talking about me needing to retire, like I’m old or something,” I joked, throwing my hands into the air.  “Physically, I’m only thirty-five.”

Tyche nodded to concede my point. “What about the food? I haven’t seen a menu come out yet.”

The change in topic made Parvati’s face collapse. “What? It should have gone out yesterday…” She flicked open her datapad, which flickered from the overspray that covered it. Frantically scrolling, she groaned. “This was scheduled, why didn’t it send?”

“Did you check the date?” I asked calmly. “Specifically the year.”

“Three times, it’s scheduled for tomorrow,” she insisted. “Right here: May seventeenth, twenty-forty aw fuck….”

“At least you got the decade right,” I pointed out. “You wouldn’t believe how many scheduled emails I’ve tried to automatically send out for ten or fifteen years ago.”

She nodded and seemed to get her bearings back. “So, protocol for this is… just send it right now and apologize for the late notification, don’t try to make excuses or explain?”

“Exactly. They won’t care why, they’ll just be excited the list is out.”

With a couple quick gestures, she sent the email and dismissed her datapad. “Okay, that was the last thing, then.” Turning back toward the wall she was working on before, she waved to us over her shoulder. “I’m not trying to be rude, but I really do need to finish this up. Thank you for coming to see everything… it was oddly reassuring to have both of you give us your stamp of approval before the Festival instead of making us wait until after.”

“For the record, you two have always had my stamp of approval, or I wouldn’t have tried so hard to keep my nose out of it.” I knew she couldn’t see me, but I still smiled. “We’ll catch up with you after the Food Festival.  Remember: both of you need to plan on taking the day off afterwards. I’m serious.  Have your unofficial advisors drop in and chat about everything, that’s fine. But no actual work, and I won’t let either of you see the survey results until the second day after. So rest.”

“Got it, boss lady. Have a good night!”

Tyche and I turned and headed back to my quarters. We remained silent as we took in all the preparations that had been done, waving to the handful of vendors who were bringing their supplies in already. Once we were back in normal corridors, the silence broke almost immediately.

“I think they’ve got this,” Tyche suggested nonchalantly.

“Oh, I know they do.”

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

[jihyuncompass]

Okay but have you considered...Shaw fake dating au 👀. Or for a less hard mode, maybe some fluffy flower shop au hcs for Jihyun? mwah!

You know what Shark? Both of these ideas are so good I’m going to do both. 

The Jihyun headcanons will be posted separately, but enjoy some maybe a little too long Shaw fake dating AU. 

Also, shoutout to my wonderful friend @stehkotori for her excellent Shaw wisdom and general encouragement during this whole process. I couldn’t have done it without her. 

Please Say Yes 

Summary: After a wrench is thrown into the plans for your newest program, you ask a certain someone to help you. But maybe there’s more to the two of you than you thought. 

Shaw x MC

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: Some cursing, Drinking, Alcohol Mentions

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

“Hey boss?” Kiki said, sticking her head into the office. You tore your eyes away from the computer and looked up towards the office door. “I got some bad news.” 

Your brow furrowed as you lifted your fingers from your keyboard. “What’s going on?” Kiki walked in and closed the door behind her. 

“You know how the special couple’s program is getting filmed next week?” You recalled the proposal for that program, a challenge-based game show for couples to “test” their relationship. You’d liked the program idea, but it had been a pain to get Victor to approve the proposal. You were already cringing remembering the sheer amount of late nights the proposal required. 

“Yeah I remember.” You said. “Why? Is everything okay?”  

The way Kiki was rubbing her hands together wasn’t giving you much confidence. “One of the couples dropped out.” She said. 

You tried to keep your jaw from dropping. Speaking carefully for your own sake. . “Why? What happened?” 

Kiki sighed. “I guess she caught him cheating. They broke up a few days ago.” You set your pen back on your desk to cover your eyes with your hands. 

“And we only found out now?” 

“She just called me ten minutes ago. I guess she was too upset to remember to call.” Kiki frowned. 

You groaned. “This is bad.” You whispered to yourself. “This is really bad.” Staring at your desk you tried to think of a solution. You needed that particular number of couples for the show, it was purposeful so you could have a good balance of personalities and relationships. As well as the challenges being built around the numbers. Now it was thrown off. 

“Maybe we could find someone last minute? We could do a small last minute casting call?” Kiki suggested. You shook your head. 

“The show starts taping in three days there’s not enough time.” You said, you weren’t about to call off the show because one couple dropped out. You couldn’t do that to the crew, not to mention how angry Victor would be about the wasted time and resources. You needed a solution and you needed one quick. 

The gears in your head were quickly turning, this wasn’t a great situation, but maybe you could fix it. 

“Boss?”

“Okay.” You sat up straight in your chair, you weren’t very confident in your plan, but it’s all you could think of right now. “I’ll step in for the missing couple.” 

Kiki’s eyes widened. “You? But you aren’t dating anyone and we need a couple.”

“I’ll find someone, we’ll pretend to be a couple or something. At this point it doesn’t really matter.” You explained. “Let everyone know about the change in plans, I’ll let you know who’s coming with me.” Kiki nodded. 

“You’re a savior boss!” Kiki said, turning on her heel to head back to her desk. Once the door closed you sighed loudly to yourself. Alright, now you just needed to find someone to do this with you, that shouldn’t be too hard. Right?

Wrong. 

“This sucks.” You whispered to yourself. Throwing yourself down on your bed after work you pressed your face into your bedspread. The conversation from earlier was still echoing in your head. 

You’d spent the rest of the day trying to think of who you could possibly ask to do this with you. Going through a mental list of every person you knew, and their likeliness of them saying yes. 

At first you’d thought about asking Kiro, the two of you got along well and you’d think he’d go for the chance to spend a couple days with you. Except, he was also an international pop star and not only would Savin never allow it, but you didn’t really want to be harassed by an army of jealous Kiro fans online. 

You then thought of Lucien, he’d always been kind enough to help you with programs in the past, but he was so busy you can’t imagine you’d be able to pull him away from his work to do this show. You also couldn’t really imagine his personality type on this time of program.

For a brief moment during a phone call earlier in the day you’d thought about asking Victor, however that idea was scrapped almost as soon as you thought of it. Victor was too high-profile for a show like this, on top of that he would never agree to pretend to date you for it. You’d have better luck getting a dead body to come on the show with you. 

There was always Gavin but. Gavin was complicated. 

On the other side of the bed your phone rang, breaking your train of thought. After a moment of groaning you pulled yourself up and propped yourself up on your elbows. “Hello?” You said, trying not to let the frustration in your mind seep into your words.  

“What’s with that tone? Not happy to hear from me?” You held back another groan. 

“No I’m just not in a great mood.” You started. On Shaw’s end you thought you could hear the sound of his skateboard on the pavement. “Are you calling me while skating right now?” 

Shaw made a “humph” sound. “So what if I am? I’m smart enough not to hurt myself.” You still were convinced it was safe but you knew better than trying to argue with Shaw. That energy would be better spent on arguing with him on something important. 

“Just be careful.” You said. “So, what do you need?” 

“Why are you assuming I need something?” Shaw asked. 

“Shaw you pretty much only call me to trick me into buying you dinner or to drag me along on whatever chaos you’ve decided on for that day.” You explained. Rolling onto your back you stared up at the ceiling. 

From Shaw’s end it sounded like he had gotten off his board. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that the way to man’s heart is through his stomach?” 

“Who ever said I was trying to get into your heart?” 

“Just food for thought.” Shaw said. “Anyways, I’m on my way to yours right now. I’m in the mood for hotpot.” 

You sat up, gasping at this boy’s audacity. “You are just trying to get me to buy you food!” 

“I never said I wasn’t. I’ll be there in five, be ready for me.” The line went dead before you could shout at him. Finally allowing yourself to groan loudly you dragged yourself out of bed to at least put on a jacket and grab your keys and wallet. 

Leaning against the wall of your apartment building you saw Shaw’s silhouette against the sunset. As expected he was racing down the sidewalk on his skateboard, when you met his eyes his lips pulled into his typical smirk. 

“Waiting for me outside? Are you really that excited to see me?” Shaw said once he was close enough to be heard. You rolled your eyes and shook your head. 

“No! I just got ready quickly so I figured I’d get some fresh air!” You huffed. Despite your pout, Shaw’s smirk remained. “You said you wanted hotpot? There’s that place down the street. Let’s go there.” Shaw shrugged and held his board under his arm. 

You sat across from Shaw. Between you the broth was boiling as Shaw added in the first hotpot ingredients. You propped your head up on your hand, like most evenings the post-work exhaustion had hit and you could already feel yourself fading and your eyes slipping closed. . 

“Hey!” Shaw snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Stop daydreaming. Don’t waste your time with me like that.” You blinked a few times and looked back up to face him. 

You sat up straighter to try and break out of your train of thought. “Sorry. What were you saying?” 

Shaw squinted at you. “What’s with you today? You’re acting dumber than usual.” You almost wanted to throw some sarcastic comment back at him. Instead you just ended up sighing, 

“Work stuff. Doesn’t matter.” You said leaning forward to look at the hotpot Shaw was checking on. 

You needed this show to happen, you’d worked so hard to get it set up and figured out. You couldn’t let it fall apart because of this. Still, you needed someone, and you were running out of time. At this point you were about to call Minor and beg him to come with you. 

After watching the pot for a long while your eyes fluttered up to look at Shaw. He was so focused on the food that he didn’t even seem to notice you looking at him. Watching him toss some more veggies into the pot your mind seemed to pause for a moment. A strange thought going through your mind. 

“Hey Shaw.” You started. 

“What?”

“I need to ask you something, and I need you to hear me out.” You said. Shaw looked back up at you now. “So there’s this show my company is filming next week.” You started 

Shaw furrowed his brow. “What does this have to do with me?” You shot him a glare. 

“I said hear me out!” You exclaimed. “It's a challenge based game show. A bunch of couples are going to have to undergo challenges to see how strong either relationship really is.” Shaw was staring at you, like he was waiting for you to get to the point. “Last second we had one of the couples drop out and so I need-” 

Shaw rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to go on your show.” He said. “Besides, you said this is for couples. I’m not dating anyone.” 

You leaned forward. “I wasn’t finished.” Shaw went back to stirring the hotpot shaking his head. “I would try and find a real couple, but filming starts on Monday and it’s already Friday night. I already offered to go on the show, I just need someone to pretend to be my boyfriend.” Shaw kept eyeing you. 

“So you want me to be your fake boyfriend?” You nodded. “Why me?” He asked. “Why not ask your beloved Officer Gavin or something. You know he'd say yes in a heartbeat” Shaw explained dropping more vegetables into the pot. You anxiously rubbed your hands together. 

“I know he would. But-” You started. Staring at the bubbling pot as you bit your bottom lip. “I care about Gavin. A lot, he’s a kind and wonderful guy but…” Shaw raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want him to get the wrong idea. I just see him as a friend and I don’t want him to get confused.” You said, glancing up you looked back at Shaw’s face. 

You sat in silence as the hotpot cooked. You waited for Shaw to say something, look at you, anything. After a while you shook your head. “I shouldn’t have asked, forget it.” Shaw looked back up to you. 

“Hey I never said I wouldn’t do it.” Shaw said. 

“You weren’t saying anything!” 

“I was thinking.” Shaw said and leaned back in his seat. “What’s in this for me?” 

You were almost prepared for this. You sat up straighter in your seat, Shaw could be a hard sell, but he actually might be a perfect choice. His personality would add a lot of flavor to the show. 

“First of all, it’s all expenses paid. Food, boarding, all of it, plus all the cast members do get compensated.” Shaw still didn’t seem convinced, he was almost worse than Victor, at least with Victor you could usually tell right away when he hated your proposals. “You’d get to be on TV of course-” Also no reaction, but the more you talked the more you wanted to convince him. “You’ll get to mess with me the whole time, and I’ll owe you big time.” 

Shaw was still silent, as he dipped strips of meat into the broth to cook. “The show sounds kinda dumb.” 

Balling your hands into fists you bit back the urge to get angry. “If you don’t want to do it you can just say no.” Ignoring you, Shaw pulled out his phone, you couldn’t see the screen but as he turned it towards him you thought you saw a text message flash across the screen. 

A smirk pulled across Shaw’s lips. “Well today's your lucky day.” Shaw set his phone aside as your brow raised. “Sounds like Adam ate shit and sprained his wrist. Our performance this weekend is cancelled.” 

“Is he okay?”

“He’ll live.” Shaw said. “Guess I could do this silly little show of yours.”

“You’ll do it?” 

“Well I don’t have any other plans so why not, Jensen’s already elected to cancel the show.” Shaw said. You wanted to jump out and cheer. The show was going to go on, you had a replacement now. This was going to be okay, everything was going to be okay. 

From the other side of the table Shaw was watching you, his eyebrow raised in confusion by your excitement. You didn’t even care that he was judging you with this gaze, you were far too happy to try and defend yourself. 

With a subtle shake of his head, Shaw dropped the noodles into the pot, glancing back up at you he tried to hide the smirk on his face. 

This was bound to be interesting. 

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

You’d told Shaw you’d pick him up in the morning to take him to the filming location. Sitting in your car you waited for him to show up, you were more than familiar with his history of being late but of all days today was the one day you absolutely didn’t want him to be. 

Tapping your fingers against the steering wheel you considered calling him. Telling him to get a move on, you couldn’t be late. Especially since you’re supposed to be on the show too. 

Biting your nails you tried to think of when he could come out. Your eye on the clock you tried to think of how long it would take to get there, you couldn’t be late to your own show. Staring at the clock you didn’t even notice the movement in the corner of your eye. 

“Oi!” You turned towards the passenger side window. Shaw was tapping his finger against the window leaning down so his face was level with yours in the car. You gave him a look.

“What?” You shouted so he could hear you. Shaw rolled his eyes, he made a show of 

trying to open the car door to no avail. Your face turned beet red and you unlocked the door for him. Shaw plopped himself down in the passenger seat. Tossing a backpack into the backseat. 

“Sorry. I didn’t realize it was locked.” You said. 

“Do you usually keep it unlocked?” Shaw asked with a glare in your direction.  

“No!” You insisted while you rolled your eyes. 

“You shouldn’t, only an idiot would keep their doors unlocked for any stranger to get in.” Shaw said, pulling the seat belt over his chest. You wanted to try and get back at him, say something,but instead you just rolled your eyes. 

Shaw turned up the radio, he flipped through radio stations until he seemed to settle on something he liked. You kept mostly silent, conversations with Shaw usually came fairly naturally. He didn’t usually seem to have any issues when it came to finding something to talk about. 

“We should probably have a story right?” Shaw said about ten minutes into the drive. His voice threw you off for a moment, your gaze turning back to him. 

“Story?”

“For the show?” Shaw asked like it was supposed to be obvious. 

“Oh!” You said, your cheeks burned a bit. Of course he’s thinking about the show right now. “You’re right we probably should. They’re going to ask us how we met.” You focused on the road, but shot a few quick glances at Shaw. “So, what should our story be?” 

Shaw thought for a second, “We met on a bus. It’s not a lie.” 

“That’s not a good story though.” You said. “It needs to be more interesting than that!” Shaw rolled his eyes. You fell into silence again as you tried to think of a story. Something believable but also interesting enough for the show. 

“Maybe…” You said. “We met at a show at Live House. I went to blow off steam after work, you were there because you’re always there.” Shaw looked like he wanted to interject but you stopped him. “We met at the show and started talking, and that’s how we got together.”

Shaw tapped his fingers against the car door in rhythm with the music. “Seems believable enough.” 

Together you ran over the details a few more times, making sure you both were clear on the story you would tell the cameras. Once you were both sure and rehearsed the car fell back into silence. You focused on the road while Shaw hummed along to the music on the radio. You knew his voice was good, you’d heard him perform in his band more than once. Still the warm tones of his voice drew you in. You were nearly forcing yourself to breathe silently so you could hear him better. You didn’t dare interrupt him, and he continued for the rest of the trip. 

Once you’d pulled into the set you sat in the car for a moment. The closer you had gotten to set the more a knot started to grow in your stomach. You’d produced dozens of shows by this point but there was something different about actually being in the show this time. Knowing you’d have to be on camera made you feel much more nervous. Chewing on the inside of your lip you stared off into the distance, your gaze not fixating on anything in particular. Maybe offering to go on the show was a bad idea, maybe you should have just tried to find someone else to do this show. It’s too late though, you can’t back out now. You already dragged Shaw all the way here and into your mess. 

In the passenger seat Shaw stopped his humming, you hadn’t even noticed until his voice was cutting into your thoughts. 

“Weren’t you saying we were late shouldn’t we-” Shaw started. You tried to take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. Shaw started to talk again, “Hey.” He said, his voice a little softer than his usual tone, you felt his warm hand rest on your shoulder. “Breathe. In for four seconds.” You didn’t have time to question him and followed his instructions. Closing your eyes you took a deep breath in. “Hold it.” He said after the four seconds were finished, you held your breath and kept your eyes closed. After about seven more seconds the grip on your shoulder loosened. “Exhale for eight.” Nodding you followed his instruction and exhaled. 

When you finished Shaw’s hand on your shoulder tightened again. “Do it again.” He said, nodding you took the breath in for four and held it for seven, then another long breath out. You did this five more times. Until the tension in your shoulders released and you could think clearly again. 

After a little while longer you let out a sigh. Shaw’s hand left your shoulder. You looked over at Shaw in the passenger seat. 

“Thank you. I’m sorry for that.” You said. Beside you Shaw shrugged. 

“Just remember to breathe and you’ll be fine.” Shaw said. 

Pulling the key out of the ignition you took another deep breath. “How did you know how to do that?” You asked him. 

Shaw reached into the backseat to grab his backpack. “It’s just a simple breathing exercise. It’s not rocket science.” Shaw looked out the window. 

Taking in the set one more time from a distance you unlocked the doors. You and Shaw both shut the car doors. Standing next to you, Shaw elbowed you. “Are we waiting for something?” 

After shaking your head you walked together into a set where production assistants rushed around to set things up. You recognized a few of the other couples from casting a few weeks ago. As you walked onto set, some people seemed to recognize you, waving at you when they saw you. You waved back greeting people as you passed. 

Shaw mostly kept quiet as you greeted everyone, you noticed the way people would look at him. Even if he wasn’t speaking much there was still something striking about him. Maybe it was the lavender colored hair he swore was natural, or the little slits in one of his eyebrows. Or maybe it was that presence that Shaw had. A presence that demanded attention, something about him that just drew people towards him. At least to look at him. 

Eventually the two of you settled into standing in a circle with some of the couples who were going to be on the show. All chattering excitedly with each other. 

“I wonder what kinds of challenges they’re going to have us do.” One person asked. The others talked amongst themselves. You already knew what challenges were set up for the show. However you also didn’t want to let them in on the challenges. You held your tongue so not to say anything. 

“Maybe it’ll be like the newlywed game?” Another person suggested. 

“That seems a little generic.” A third person said. Shaw eyed you out of the corner of his eye. He obviously knew that you knew what the challenges would look like, still you didn’t say a word. 

They discussed some of the other possible challenges. Some of their ideas were close to the truth or quite far off, still you kept quiet. You noticed that Shaw wasn’t throwing his own thoughts into the conversation. Right now, he almost seemed content to just listen right now. 

Eventually the conversation shifted to how all the couples had met, around the circle of people couples started to tell their stories. Some met at work, one couple were high school sweethearts, another couple had met on a dating app, eventually every couple had told their story until it was just You and Shaw left. 

The woman next to you turned towards you. “How about you two? You’ve been awfully quiet.” You looked at Shaw, who was smirking at you. You cleared your throat and rubbed the back of your neck. 

“We met at a concert.” You said. “I went to see this local band I was a big fan of and-” 

“I’m the bassist of the band.” Shaw interjected, you glared at him. He was actually going to alter the story? Right now? You attempted not to let your shock shine through, but the way Shaw was smirking he clearly recognized your surprise. “They had gotten themself into the front row. They kept staring at me the entire time I was on stage.” Shaw explained. 

You pressed your lips together then continued the story after Shaw took a pause. “To be fair he kept staring at me too. He was constantly trying to get my attention.” Shaw’s trademarked smile didn’t falter. “Then, after the show he kept trying to get me to come backstage to talk to him.” You continued. You opened your mouth to try and say more but Shaw stopped you. 

“Well babe it didn’t take much to get you to agree.” Shaw said leaning closer towards you. You tried not to let the newfound flush in your face show. “We went backstage and they just kept talking about how much they loved the band and how well I performed.” You held yourself back from hitting him. He was really determined to make you sound ridiculous. 

“I am a pretty big fan so of course I was pretty excited to get to talk to him.” You explained. “We talked for a few hours and by the end of the night he was practically begging to come home with me.” This time, Shaw’s smile tightened. If he was going to make you sound ridiculous, you were going to make him sound just as silly. “I didn’t want to rush things so I gave him my number instead.” 

Shaw put his arm around your shoulder pulling you close to him. He’s really trying to sell this act. “I of course accepted their number, but they just kept texting me ya’know.” 

“So were you babe.” You shot back. “We were talking constantly, and he constantly asked me out to dinner for weeks.” 

“Well I managed to wear you down eventually.” Shaw pulled you close again. “The rest is history.” Shaw finished. The circle seemed to be invested in your story. You hoped it sounded realistic enough to them, and based on their expressions. It must have been. 

The woman who originally asked you grinned. “That’s such a cute story! And you both look so good together” She said. You thanked her. The red in your face was getting worse. As you stood here you became almost painfully aware of Shaw’s arm around your waist. 

The group continued on their stories and conversations. You jumped in from time to time but didn’t still try to give away more details about you and Shaw’s fake relationship. The original story was already starting to fall apart, so you didn’t want to big yourself a hole so deep the two of you can’t explain your way out of it. 

Behind you one of the production assistants shouted towards the group to get everyone’s attention. “Alright! We’re going to start shooting here pretty soon. Make yourselves pretty, eat something whatever you need to do!” Everyone nodded and gave a thumbs up to the production assistants. The couples started to peel away from the circle to get themselves ready. 

“Aren’t you going to get ready?” Shaw asked.

“I am ready.” You said. Shaw looked you up and down twice. You crossed your arms over your chest. “I got ready before I got here. What about you?”

“What about me?” Shaw said, his smile turning more into a smirk. “I’ve never looked better.” You wanted to throw something at him, but instead you just took a long, stressed breath. Shaw’s arm dropped from your waist and leaned against the wall. Shaw shoved his hands into his jacket’s pockets. 

You left Shaw on his own for a little while while you talked with the production team. They gave you their estimated itinerary and a general run down on how things have been going so far production wise. While you talked with them you noticed Shaw out of the corner of your eye, still watching you. His gaze never leaving your direction.

The director gathered everyone into a circle to explain the plan for the day. The shoot would take place over two days, with the cast and crew staying in a hotel not far from the shooting location. 

“Alright.” The director started. “Here’s the game plan everyone. The first thing we’ll be 

doing are  introductory interviews. We’ll ask you a few questions about your histories and relationship. After that they’ll get started on the first challenge, any questions?” The whole cast glanced back and forth at one another.

The director answered a few questions but kept it brief. As he finished up, members of the production team started pulling couples aside for their interviews. 

You and Shaw were called up second to last for your first interview.

“You’re fidgeting.” Shaw said as you got into your places. You curled your hands into little fists so they would stop playing with your clothes. You avoided showing your annoyance at him. After all, you were supposed to be acting as a couple. 

The director sat up straight in his chair. “Alright you two are you ready?” You nodded, making one last check to make sure your hair looked alright. Beside you Shaw removed his hands from his pockets. He seemed rather casual about this, unlike yourself. 

“We’re ready.” Shaw said. You took one last long breath before trying to put on your best on camera expression. Shaw on the other hand, looked completely unbothered as the crew finished setting up the audio and lights. 

You watched as the director called for silence on the set. You tried to fight your shaking hands, your stage fright worse than you expected. 

Shaw seemed to notice your anxiety, beside you, you heard him click his tongue. You were about to say something when Shaw took your shaking hand in his. Holding it tight. From the corner of your eye you tried to get a glimpse at Shaw’s expression. His face was the same slightly amused but fairly serious expression as always. 

“Action!” The director called. You put a smile on for the camera and squeezed Shaw’s hand still holding yours. 

“So-” The show’s host began. “Tell us about yourselves.” 

The introductory interview went as well as it could have. You repeated the same story you’d decided on while you were on the way there. Shaw spoke with a confidence that surprised you. It reminded you of the way he looks when he performs on stage. Confident and self assured, maybe a little bit cocky, but mostly charismatic. 

On the other hand you weren’t so confident in your performance. Multiple times you had to stop yourself from stuttering or getting panicked. Still, you managed to get through it. And once the director said you were finished you sighed deeply in relief. Once the director said cut. Shaw let go of your hand to shove it back into his jacket pocket, and while it took a while to notice, you felt a bit empty without him. 

The rest of the day was just filming the show, doing games and challenges. Interspersed with more short interviews. Time seemed to move quickly, you hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed until the sun had started to go down and you realized how your body was aching. Throughout the final challenge you were fighting to keep yourself standing despite your aching legs and headache blooming behind your eyes. 

When the director called for the end of the night you really realized just how heavy your body was. Beside you Shaw seemed fine, near the end of the night he did seem to be moving a bit slower but he didn’t seem as tired, or as drained as you were. 

You dragged yourself back to the car, the thought of a warm dinner and comfortable bed propelling you forward. Shaw beside you didn’t seem to be struggling nearly as much.  

“Why are you walking so slow?” Shaw asked, raising an eyebrow at you. 

You frowned. “I’m tired. I’ve been on my feet all day.” Shaw’s expression didn’t change. You stopped in front of your car and sighed, your eyes were starting to feel heavy and your body felt like you could collapse at any moment. 

Going through your bag you tried to find your keys. Shaw watched you with his typical somewhat judgemental gaze. Once you felt the keyring between your fingers you pulled the keys from your bag with a short sigh of relief. 

But before you could unlock the car doors Shaw plucked the keys from your hand. You shot him a glare. 

“Hey!” You started. 

“You look like a dead man walking.” Shaw said. “You’ll kill us both.” Shaw slid into the driver seat. You opened and shut your mouth again, and after a moment of disbelief you sighed and got into the passenger’s seat. 

“Do you need directions to the hotel?” You asked while you settled into your seat. Shaw turned the car on, pulling it into reverse. 

“I’m hungry, let’s get food first.” Shaw said, turning to watch behind him as he backed out. 

“The company is covering room service for everyone. We can just eat at the hotel.” You explained. 

“Nah.” Shaw said. “I want to go somewhere else.” 

“Do you know the area at all?” 

“Nope.” The car pulled out of the parking spot, Shaw turned back to sit against the seat of the car. You wanted to argue with him, but you were too tired and knew better than arguing with him when you could hardly think straight. 

You let your eyes slip closed while he drove. Shaw turned the radio on, but kept the volume low for you to rest. With your cheek pressed against the cool car window, your eyes opened from time to time to check on your surroundings. 

Sneaking a glance at Shaw he was completely focused on the road. His face was blank and concentrated. You decided to trust him that he knew what he was doing, and that he wasn’t going to be crashing your car.  

You were roused from your dozing when you felt the car stop. Opening your eyes, the car was stopped in front of a small takeout restaurant, a few people lingering in front. 

Shaw glanced over at you. “Awake now?” He jeered. 

“What is this place?” You asked as you looked back at the small building hardly larger than a food truck. 

“It’s food.” Shaw said. 

“Do you know if it’s any good?” 

Shaw sighed loudly. “So many questions.” Pressing your lips together into a fine line you fought back the urge to argue with him. “Come on.” Shaw got out of the car and shut the door behind me. After taking a moment to collect yourself you got out and followed Shaw towards the building. 

Once you’d gotten your food you both sat down at a picnic table a little ways away from the restaurant. You both dug into your food with no delay, after a long day of filming it seemed the two of you were both hungrier than you’d let on. 

You watched Shaw while you ate. Something in you couldn’t help it, being around Shaw you always felt somewhat disoriented. You could rarely figure out what he was thinking, or even how he was really feeling. He always knew what to say to push your buttons, to make your face red and want to shout. Still, you found yourself spending more and more time with him, even if just to watch him. Seeing the small changes in his expressions, or the glint he got in his eye when he seemed amused or excited about something. How despite his facial expression you could always tell there was thoughts and emotions hidden under the surface that he would likely never share with you or anyone for that matter. 

“Why are you staring at me?” Shaw asked, you blinked and cleared your throat. You hadn’t realized how long you were looking at him. 

You looked down at the table and ignored the flush in your cheeks. “Sorry, I was just a little lost in thought.” You pushed some of the food around and took a few small bites. Now Shaw watched you while you tried to focus on your meal in front of you. You wondered what could possibly be going through his mind as he eyed you. The slightest bit of amusement in his eyes, his lips turned up in his signature teasing smile. 

“Shaw, can I ask you something?” You asked. Shaw raised a slit eyebrow. “Why did you agree to do this show with me? I know it’s not something you’d normally be interested in.” 

His smile shifted into a more neutral expression as he spoke. “I thought it could be entertaining.” Shaw said. “Besides, I didn’t have anything else to do so why not.” 

“Because your gig was cancelled?” You asked. 

Shaw didn’t meet your eyes, running a hand through his hair to push it from his eyes. “Yeah.” Although his answer was short, you had a feeling that it wasn’t the whole truth. That there as something else there. The issue was if you should push it or not. 

“Can I ask you another question?” 

Shaw looked you in the eyes, like he was trying to read your intentions. “What?” 

“Why do you like being around me?” You asked. Shaw’s expression was still like stone. “You’re always messing with me, making fun of me, making me run around in circles. Why?” 

He seemed to pick his answer carefully. He kept his expression guarded, yet you had a strange feeling looking at him. “It’s simple. You’re entertaining to watch.” Shaw said. 

“That’s it? I’m like a TV show for you?” You said, despite the simplicity of his answer you felt almost a little, disappointed? His answer was simple, yet somehow you hoped he’d say more. 

Shaw seemed to pick up on your disappointment. “Why do you look so upset? It makes you look uglier.” 

Trying to keep yourself calm you held your breath. You didn’t want to lose your temper with him and yet you could feel the dam starting to crack. “I’m really just entertainment for you? Or someone to buy you hotpot when you’re hungry?” 

Shaw smirked. “I like when you buy me cola too.” 

“That’s not the point!” You insisted. “Am I someone important to you?” 

The smirk on Shaw’s face fell, replaced with a slight frown. “Does it matter?” 

“Is it wrong for me to want to know what you think of me?” 

“It doesn’t matter. My opinion of you is meaningless.” Shaw said and took another bite. You pressed your lips together, again an odd feeling of disappointment took over again. Still you couldn’t quite determine why you felt that way. 

You stared down at the table. “Well.” You started. “For the record. You’re someone important to me.” You said. 

Shaw was quiet, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to look up at him. To see what his expression was. You rubbed your hands together, remembering the warmth of Shaw’s hand when he held yours during the first interview. 

The silence lasted for quite a while. Your eyes stared focused on the table, avoiding Shaw’s eyes. Your heart felt like a jackhammer in your chest and no matter what you couldn’t seem to get it to slow down. 

“I’m important to you?” Shaw said, his voice just hardly above a whisper. There was a quality in his voice, something that sounded almost vulnerable. Something that you’d never heard from him before. 

Still, you kept your head down. “You are.” You spoke in a matching quiet tone. “You’re someone I care about. I don’t always understand you, but I want to.” You kept your clammy hands clasped together tightly, and your head bowed. Your appetite left as you sat there with the tension to thick you could cut through it. 

After gathering your courage your eyes lifted to see Shaw’s face. He wasn’t looking at you, his eyes seemed focused somewhere else. His face was devoid of emotion, yet in his eyes you could catch some of that vulnerability. 

“Shaw?” You asked. He didn’t answer you, staring into the middle distance. Your gaze fell to Shaw's hand, resting on the table. Watching him you remembered how warm his hand had been when he held it. How it seemed to calm you when you felt overwhelmed. 

Moving slowly you took Shaw’s hand in yours. Shaw’s eyes broke from their trance to look at your hand. You tried to figure out what he was thinking, as you watched him the vulnerability in his eyes switched to what looked like panic, then a moment later. His expression closed off again into his usual neutral expression. 

“You like holding my hand huh?” Shaw said, his voice also returning to its usual teasing tone. You glared at him then let the tension in your shoulder relax. 

“If you don't like it you can tell me.” You snapped back. 

Shaw’s lips curled into his classic smirk. “It’s not the worst.” He pushed the last bites of his food to the side with his other hand. “But your hand is all sweaty.”

You ‘humphed’ and tried to pull your hand away, but as you tried Shaw’s hand tightened around yours keeping you there. Once you realized that he didn’t want to let go of your hand you stopped pulling away. Letting his hand hold yours. Still, you did try and avoid his gaze. Something about the way his eyes seemed to pierce you managed to make your heart nearly stop. 

“Are you done?” Shaw asked after some more time. 

“Huh?” You looked back at him. 

“With your food?” He said as if it was obvious. The tips of your ears turned red as you realized. 

“Oh.” You looked down at the table. “Yeah I’m done.” Shaw’s hand left yours as he gathered up the trash from the table to throw it away. After you watched him for a while you got up from the table too. Your heart was still racing in your chest, though it wasn’t nearly as bad as before. 

Shaw didn’t seem to mention or regard the moment that had just occurred. He threw away the trash and the two of you walked back to the car. You walked a bit behind him, your hand feeling cold without his. Clutching your hands together you tried to replicate that warmth, mostly to no avail.

This time you took the wheel to drive back to the hotel. Shaw leaned against the passenger seat and fiddled with the radio. You kept driving despite your heavy eyes, you could already imagine crawling under the bed covers to get some sleep. 

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

An unfortunate part of having Shaw be your fake date was needing to share a hotel room. You’d managed to quickly switch room types so there’d be two beds still. Sharing with him was far from ideal. 

The feeling of crawling into bed was almost euphoric. The cool sheets and heavy comforter practically forced your eyes shut. You hardly cared for your surroundings as Shaw flipped through television channels. As you laid there you listened to his movements, constantly aware of his place in the room. 

Being there your mind kept wandering back to that table where you ate dinner. The way you felt sitting there, with your hands clammy and heart racing. How strangely disappointed you’d felt when Shaw didn’t tell you what he was thinking. Then the vulnerability he showed for just that short moment. Why did he make you feel that way. Why did you care so much?

However, you fell asleep, before you could find your answer. 

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

When you woke up in the morning, your body was still heavy with sleep. At the sound of the alarm you and Shaw had both dragged yourselves out of bed to get ready for the second day of the film shoot. 

The drive to the set consisted mostly of the two of you desperately downing cups of coffee to prepare for the day, hoping that maybe with enough coffee your leftover exhaustion would dissipate. With not much success unfortunately. 

The second day of filing was much longer than the first day, and with the preparation from the day before everyone seemed to be moving much faster than it had the day before. By the time the two of you were on set, production assistants were moving everyone around to prepare for the first part of the day. 

Even with the long shoot day time seemed to move quickly. The challenges moved quickly and you could barely process the passage of time until you were nearly the end of the day.

Before you knew it you were wrapping up and doing the final interviews. You stood in the same place you had the day before for the introductory interviews. Still with Shaw standing by your side and getting into the right position. 

Yesterday you’d felt panicked doing that first interview. Today, your exhaustion seemed to override your anxiety and stage fright. As they prepared the cameras to shoot your hand felt cold again. Just like it had many times over the past two days. 

“You two ready?” The director asked. Your head snapped up to acknowledge the director’s question. 

“I’m ready.” Shaw said. 

“Me too.” You said, clearing your throat. The director nodded then began the final interview. You answered the question and tried to ignore the voice in your head that told you to take Shaw’s hand again. As much as you wanted to, you clasped your hands together, desperate to ignore that voice that seemed to only get louder. 

The shoot ended as the sun was going down. The last few rays of light still peaked over the horizon as the crew packed everything up and said their goodbyes. 

The final remnants of daylight faded on the drive home. Your eyes kept falling shut but you forced them open as you drove the car. In the passenger seat Shaw stared out the window. He must have been feeling tired as well because he wasn’t talking as much as he usually would. 

“Thank you.” You said as you stopped to drop Shaw off. “Thank you, again. For doing the show, I know it probably wasn’t your ideal way to spend your weekend but I hope maybe it was a little fun?” 

“It was fine.” Shaw said. “It was pretty entertaining to watch you try so hard.” 

“Well I wanted to give it a fair shot!” You explained. “But you did pretty good. I was really impressed.” 

Shaw smirked. “I put effort into all the things I do. Even dumb things like that show.” 

“Don’t you skip class like, constantly?” 

“Sure but I still have top grades and an academic scholarship.” Shaw said. “Work smarter not harder.” 

“Regardless.” You said to change the topic. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you, and I owe you. Big time.” 

Shaw reached into the backseat to grab his bag. Sliding out of the passenger side door he leaned down to meet your eyes through the window. His gaze held that usual teasing tone of his, but this time something about that look was making your heart race. 

“Well, I’ll keep in touch. Gotta get that big favor from you.” Shaw teased. 

“Goodnight Shaw.” You said, fighting past your racing heart. 

“Goodnight babe.” Shaw said. Your heart felt like it could break your ribs with how hard it beat, your cheeks and tips of your ears turning bright pink as he laughed and turned to walk away. Leaving you alone in your flustered state. 

You drove away, your face bright red. 

“That brat.” You hissed under your breath. 

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

You got a short day to rest after the shoot before returning to work. After that you went back to the office to get through the work that had started to pile up while you were preoccupied with the couple’s program. You had new proposals to write, other ones to flesh out and rework at the risk of another lecture and possible rejection from Victor. 

The next week or so went past with little word from Shaw. You’d texted back and forth a few times. Mostly you giving him updates on the editing for the program, or him sending you some slightly teasing and maybe a little insulting jabs. Nothing out of the ordinary for the two of you. 

Yet, with every message you reacted differently to how you would have before. A month ago, those messages would have annoyed you. Make you a bit frustrated before moving on with your day. Maybe trying to think of ways to tease him back for what he’s said. 

Now though, it wasn’t like that. Every notification from him made your heart jump into your throat, every tease made you feel more flustered, the jabs even hurt at times. In a way they hadn’t before. When you responded you wanted to make him laugh, or maybe even say something nice. 

You wanted him to like you. 

The one thing you couldn’t figure out was when these feelings had started to change. When you started to care so much, when he started to mean so much to you. Had the change happened while you were filming the show? Maybe it was when you sat at that table eating dinner together, or maybe when he held your hand during that first interview. 

Maybe you realized it subconsciously even before the shoot. Maybe you started to realize how you felt when you first asked him to be on the show. Even if you couldn’t quite place when you fell, it started to weigh heavier and heavier on your mind. 

Fridays were the hardest day of the week in your opinion. Somehow they managed to be even more difficult than Mondays. You could see the weekend in sight and yet it was still so far away. The exhaustion of the week was starting to weigh on your shoulders. You’d already planned on spending most of your weekend resting and recovering. You had takeout menus set out and some television to catch up on. 

Staring at the clock you watched the later hours of the afternoon tick by. The piles of proposals and unread emails felt like they were staring you in the face. 

Your text chime threw you from your thoughts. Your eyes turned away from the brightness of your computer monitor. Pushing your desk chair away from your desk you leaned back and checked your phone. 

Shaw: Oi. Are you working late tonight? 

MC: I better not be.

Shaw: Good, come to the Live House tonight

You stared at the screen. Your tired eyes and end of the week exhaustion told you that you should just go home and sleep. Then, there was the other part of you, the part that felt excited about getting to see Shaw, and getting to spend time with him again. Even if he just ended up teasing you all night. 

MC: I’ll go but I don’t know how long I can stay 

Shaw: I’ll tell you when you can go home

Shaw: Meet me at 7. Isolated is performing tonight

MC: I’ll see you there. 

There was just barely enough time for you to change clothes at home before you had to head out towards the Live House. You put on some more casual clothes, better suited for going out to a rock club rather than an office. 

The evening air was cool against your skin. A light breeze blowing and rustling the tree branches. You walked down the sidewalk, passing others on their way to their Friday plans as you walked towards yours. 

It didn’t take long to get into Live House. You got there early enough that a line hadn’t quite formed yet. Inside, loud rock music played over the speakers, you watched staff setting up amps and microphones for Isolated’s later performance. A sizable crowd of people was already starting to grow. With patrons first flocking towards the bar to start drinking before the show starts. 

You pushed through the growing crowd of people to get to the bar. After managing to squeeze into the front of the bar you quickly tried to flag down a bartender. 

You ordered your drink quickly to try and get out from the group flocking towards the bar. Your fingers tapped against the wood anxiously until the bartender slid your drink across the bar. Once the cup was in your hand you got out of the crowd quickly circling in on the bar.

Checking the time you leaned against the wall, there was still a few minutes before the performance started. You watched as people wandered around the venue, groups of people chatting together, others dancing along to the music playing over the speakers. 

Sipping your drink you pulled out your phone. You’d hoped that maybe Shaw had texted you, even just to see if you had actually decided to come. After checking your messages and finding nothing, and after a long sip of your drink you sent Shaw a quick message. 

MC: I’m at Live House, break a leg out there!

Nursing your drink you kept checking your phone for a response. Still as the time got closer to the show time you started to doubt that he would respond before he went on stage. Finishing your drink you shoved your phone back into your bag. 

You pushed yourself through the thickening crowd near the front of the stage, and with some careful pushing and squeezing you finally managed to get into the front. 

The moment Shaw was on stage your eyes were locked onto him. At first he didn’t notice you, getting himself positioned for the performance to start. It wasn’t until his bass was in his hands that his eyes swept across the venue, his eyes finally stopping when he saw you. His lips curled up into a smile, and as your eyes met his you smiled back, raising your hand to give him the smallest of waves. His expression shifted to a look you hadn’t quite seen before, he looked happy but also like was trying to hide it. 

At the front of the stage Jensen introduced the band, the roar of the crowd breaking you from your trance. Your eyes quickly took in the rest of the stage, within a few moments of introducing the band they started the first song.  

You nodded your head along with the music. This wasn’t the first time you’d heard this song, still your heart raced like it was the first time. You watched the band as they performed, Jensen singing the lyrics with a passion and intensity you could only get from a live performance. 

While you did watch the band your eyes kept falling on Shaw as he played. Watching him perform was like nothing else. It was almost like he was a different person when he was up on stage with his bass. His guarded smirks melted away, his defenses seemed to come down, although he wasn’t really smiling up on stage he looked happier than you had almost ever seen him. Your eyes couldn’t move away from him, focused on his expression and the carefree way he moved and harmonized with Jensen’s voice. 

You could hear your pulse in your ears, unable to keep yourself from moving to the music but your eyes never moving away from Shaw, watching him perform the world seemed to disappear around you, leaving only him in your vision. 

Time had completely escaped you until the band was finishing their final song in the set. The crowd cheered loudly around you as they finished their final song. 

Shaw, upon strumming his final note lifted his gaze to meet yours once again. His carefree expression looking straight at your excited and starry eyed face. He shot you a signature grin for a moment before his gaze was turned away to focus back on the band, although your eyes never left him until he left the stage. 

Twenty minutes after Isolated finished their set, you noticed Adam and Jensen approaching the bar. Waving to you once they noticed you standing there. 

“Hey! I thought I saw you in the crowd.” Jensen said, stopping when he was standing beside you.

“I was in the front.” You said. “You all did a great job out there.” 

“Thanks, I think the crowd had a good energy tonight” Adam said. 

A memory of what Shaw had said a few weeks ago flashed through your mind. “Oh Adam how’s your wrist? Is it better?” 

Adam looked at you confused. “My wrist?”

“Yeah?” Your brows furrowed. “Shaw told me you sprained your wrist, which is why you had to cancel the show the other week.”

Jensen and Adam exchanged a look. “We didn’t cancel the performance. Shaw did.” 

You blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?” 

“He texted us a few days before the performance and said he couldn’t come. Something else came up I guess? He wouldn’t tell us. It was really weird though, even for him.” Jensen said. 

You stood in surprise for a moment or two, taking in what they had just told you. 

“Shaw’s a strange guy. It’s water under the bridge now, it’s not like we’ve haven’t had to cancel performances last minute before.” Adam shrugged. You nodded with them, although your mind still stuck on what they had said. 

Once they’d gotten their drinks Adam and Jensen slipped into the rest of the crowd away from the bar. Leaving you alone again for a few moments. 

Shaw had made up the story about Adam being hurt. All so he could be on the show with you? Even though he’d pretended not to care? You thought of the way your cheeks burned when he sent you texts, or how sad you felt when he let go of your hand, or how you couldn’t take your eyes off of him during the show. How somehow he’d managed to take over your mind. 

Your mind replayed that scene at the hotpot restaurant when you’d asked him over and over. The way you wanted to convince him to agree so badly. Had that all really been for the sake of the show? You could have found someone else, you could have convinced Minor, or bit the bullet and asked Gavin. But you didn’t, you wanted him. 

“There ya are.” Shaw said sliding in to stand beside you. You slid a glass over to him to a raised brow from Shaw. 

“I ordered you a drink. Rum and mixed cola, your favorite.” Shaw picked up the glass, taking a small sip. “You did a really good job tonight, as always.” You said. 

Shaw set the glass down on the bar. “I saw you watching me the whole show.”

“You always tell me to watch you, that I should only look at you on stage.” You reminded him. 

Shaw’s smile grew. “That’s right. I’m the most important person for you to look at.” His smile made your heart speed up again, just like it had so many times recently. 

After watching him take a few more sips you cleared your throat. “Shaw, can I ask you something? And you have to be honest.” He didn’t answer as he sipped his drink, but his expression gave you the go ahead. “Why did you agree to do the show with me?”

Shaw’s expression hardened. “Did you forget? Adam-”

“I know Adam didn’t sprain his wrist.” You interjected. “I asked him, he told me that he didn't.” Shaw was for once, seemingly silent although you could see the millions of thoughts going through his mind when you looked in his eyes. 

You waited for Shaw to speak, but he still didn’t seem to know what exactly to say. The normally smooth and quick witted Shaw was still. So you continued. “I like you Shaw, and I think it’s more than a friend type of like.” You made sure your words were spoken carefully. “And, I think.” You took a deep breath in and out. “I think you may like me too. In a more than a friend way.” 

Your heart was a lump in your throat, your hands a shaking mess as you spoke. You couldn’t even force yourself to look in Shaw’s eyes, afraid of what you’d see. 

After some time you felt the familiar feeling of Shaw’s warm hand holding yours. Your gaze shifted just enough to stare at his hand, now tightly holding to you so your hand could stop shaking.

Building up your courage you forced yourself to look up at Shaw’s face. His amber eyes were staring right into your soul, his eyes showed emotion you rarely see in him. The vulnerability was back, this time, looking at you directly. 

“Shaw?” You whispered. You knew he couldn’t hear you over the music, you couldn’t hear yourself over your racing heart. 

Shaw was saying something. Quietly, so you couldn’t hear him over the music. HIs lips moved to say words you couldn't determine. You leaned forward hoping to catch what he was saying but still couldn’t hear him. 

“Shaw I can’t hear-” Shaw cut you off, pulling you close to him, his lips hoving just beside your ear. 

“You’re important to me.” He whispered. “And I do like you.” 

Your cheeks burning, you turned your head to look in his eyes to determine his honesty. But what you found there was the same vulnerability, the same honesty, the softness you only saw in the most fleeting of moments. 

The next moments happened without a single thought. You moved your head to kiss him, one hand holding his, the other on the back of his neck. Your heart beat faster than it ever had, but now instead of anxiety, it raced out of joy. Shaw’s other hand came up to hold your face to keep you there. Wanting to kiss you again and again. 

Grinning as you put your arms around Shaw’s neck. and in your euphoria, you could hardly hear the voices of the group approaching the bar, loudly complaining about the sudden rain that had started seemingly out of nowhere, and their prediction that it wasn’t going to lighten up anytime soon. 

You had a feeling they were right. 

#mlqc #mlqc shaw #mldd #shaw ling #ling xiao #yeon siho #mr love queens choice #mr love fanfic #mr love game #shaw x mc

[wexhappyxfew]

YESSSS I LOVE THESE OKOKOK MAY I ASK FOR 3, 7, 9, 14 ⁉️

LOVE YOYUY!!

AH! FRIEND! HELLO!! thank you so much for stopping by! <3 (completely AGREED; these are just so much fun?!?! idk how to even describe it but getting short bursts or story discussion is always just super fun!!). ANYWAY! off to answering - thank you again *SENDS HUGS*!! :D

3. Tell us all about the OC you are most proud of creating.

By far, it is Natia Filipska. Hands down. There are many aspects of her as a character that I really like, especially with how it all ultimately came out in words on a page. And there are also future aspects I am still very excited to explore. She is someone who is very different from who I am as a person, but someone I can still see bits of myself in every now and again - in things where I catch myself agreeing with her words or action. It's an experience I am really proud of.

7. What’s the best writing motivator for you?

For me, the best writing motivator I feel is, the want to tell a story. I'm not super into the numbers game and stuff like that, it's more just an *in my free time* thing and a hobby, a way to get a creative outlet made more than anything! So, when I find a story I want to write, even if I have no clue where it might go, but I feel like I could make a story out of it, I find that really motivating for me. I feel though, that's just one of the many things that get me motivated (music is another HUGE motivator!), but just having that drive and want to create a story; that's something everyone deserves. :)

9. Who’s your biggest cheerleader?

Probably myself, tbh! Which is okay! (and ofc you let's be real, the hype you've given me has meant the world!! plus shoutout to @vintagelavenderskies @tvserie-s-world + @wecomrades who have also been super supportive and friendly and people who've just always been there) But, yeah, I'd say I'm usually my own biggest cheerleader in things like this. Mostly because it's only for enjoyment and I'm working on not being too hard on myself and such because of that!

14. Copy and paste a joke/funny moment you are particularly proud of.

OKAY SO - this one I had to dig around for a bit, I couldn't remember *exactly* what chapter it was but I found it and it's one I was really proud of at the end of the day haha! enjoy! <3 (ie smartass joe toye and flustered natia filipska)

" When's Independence Day?" he asked her and Natia watched him, raising a brow.

" Sergeant Toye," she said, eyes narrowed. He looked at her stopping as she did and watched her with playful eyes.

" When's Independence Day, Agent?" he asked her, pulling a hand up to his mouth to lick the corner of his thumb with smirk before using it to turn to the next page. Natia's heart missed a beat as she tried to steady her heart rate.

" 1776."

" Actual date."

" July 4th, I'm not an idiot."

" Alright, alright," he said, as she couldn't help but smirk slightly," what about Joe Toye Day?" Natia watched him from her crossed arms, raising a brow even further.

" You can't be serious." she said, watching as he let out a laugh shaking his head.

" C'mon," he said, giving her shoulder a little shove as he did so," you know me."

" Do I?"

" When's Joe Toye Day, Agent?"

" Nonexistent." Sergeant Toye let out a chuckle as he closed the book, before sliding it into her hands, watching her with dark eyes, before looking her up and down, zeroing in on her flushed cheeks and bright red nose - not just from the cold. He sent her a wink.

" Every 3rd Thursday in November, sweetheart." he said, before standing upright and smirking again as he began to walk away.

[ask game!]

#THANK YOU AGAIN MY FRIEND!!! :D #these were very fun to visit #especially that last one #i really enjoyed those two and am missing them BIG TIME RN #that moment was just very on par with their connection lol #thank you again! #natia filipska #joe toye #landslide #bob fic

[spencessmile]

Stressed Out

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Reader 

Summary - While trying to complete a final essay, a very stressful Y/N snaps at her boyfriend. 

Warnings - None

Word Count -   1064 words

Shoutout to @spenceneedsahug for the idea! 

And and all imagines/fanfics/blurbs are written solely by me so please don’t steal work and post it without my consent. Happy reading! 

** 

Growing up I always wanted to lived a well balanced life but here I was living the most unbalanced life I could possibly imagine. I worked two jobs, along with completing my third year of university through online classes. Working two jobs and completing online school didn't sound so bad, at first.

From Spence

Hey baby, just wrapped up the case and we're on the jet. We should be home in a couple of hours. Can't wait to see you. I love you! xx  Was the text I received a few hours ago. 

My boyfriend Spencer texted me that him and his team are on their way back home from Los Angeles after being away for a week on a case. Spencer always felt bad for never begin around, I always assured him that I was fine and that his job needed him more then me. He always disagreed with me on that topic. But in this very moment I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him. 

But here I am, coming home from a 10 am to 6 pm retail job to be faced with loads of notes and a blank word document. I sat on the floor of Spencer's study room surrounded by notes and several coffee cups. I was majoring in Political Science but this one specific course was kicking my butt; POLSCI 2M03 - Governance, Representation and Participation in Democracies. I had to write one final essay for the semester and then I would be done my third semester of university. 

I had notes scattered everywhere I didn't even know what I was doing anymore. My eyes scanned my textbook for the millionth time rereading the same paragraphs hoping to pull out some useful information. I rubbed my temples as I felt a headache slowly starting to take over my brain. I shut my textbook and grabbed the coffee cup and walked to the kitchen. I poured myself, god knows my 10th maybe 11th cup of coffee of the day. I always made fun of Spence for drinking too much coffee but him and I both knew that I took the crown for that. 

I grabbed a granola bar from the pantry and headed back into the room. 

"Okay, you have to focus. Come on, you can do this." I told my self as I stared at the word document that only had my name and date on it. I sighed and started typing the first thoughts that came into my head after all the readings I read. I was so into typing I didn't notice when the front door opened and when Spencer entered into the study. My eyes didn't leave my laptop as my fingers continued to type out my thoughts as they flooded out. 

"Hey baby." Spence whispered, softly rubbing your shoulders as he leaned to the side and kissed your temple. "Come on, let's head to bed." 

"Hey. I have to finish this essay." I motioned towards my laptop screen. 

"Baby, it's really late. Besides, you know I don't like sleeping alone." Normally I would drop anything to jump into bed with Spence. When I didn't respond, Spence started to kiss down my neck, slowly making his way down to my shoulders. "It's late and you probably can't concentrate anyways." 

"Spence, please not right now." I pushed him away slightly. 

"This will still be here tomorrow. Come now." He stated, as his lips connected to my neck again. 

"Spence please! I have to have this finished by tomorrow. If you are tired then please go to bed! I will join you once I'm finished. Just leave me alone. Now, please leave!" I snapped. Spence was taken back from my outburst. I felt him pull back and he lingered for a bit before walking out.

A couple of seconds later as soon as I heard the bedroom door close I sighed. 

"Ugh, crap! No!" I muttered knowing that he was hurt by my sudden outburst. Spence was right, I can't concentrate anymore, my brain felt fried. I turned off my laptop, shut my books shut the lights and headed into the bedroom.

The room was dark expect for the small light from the night light. I climbed into bed and sat criss-crossed from Spence, his back was facing me. 

"Love, I'm so sorry." I knew that he was awake. "I've had a really long day and I didn't mean to snap at you." I felt the tears following. He stayed silent for a few seconds. "Please, don't go to be upset at me." As soon as those words followed, Spence sat up and turned on the lamp beside him. 

He pulled me for a hug and rubbed my back as I sobbed into his neck. "Shh, you're okay. I'm here." 

"I-I'm sorry." I sobbed, the words barely above a whisper. 

"I understand baby it's just that I miss you when I'm away. When I get home I don't like seeing you like this. It breaks my heart." 

"I know you don't and I'm sorry." 

"I know this is crunch time for you right now and it's hard." I pull back and Spence smiles. "Statically speaking, lack of sleep and over working yourself can cause high blood pressure, a unhealthy eating pattern and have negative impacts on your lifestyle. A study by Stanford and Harvard business institutions found that working for too long can increase your chance of mortality by at least 20 percent." I smile as it was music to my hears hearing Spence spit out random facts. It was one of my favorite things about him. 

Spence wiped the remaining tears and leaned in for a soft kiss.

"Love I'm really tired and I just to want to cuddle with you." I say. 

"I know, come here beautiful." He laid on his back, as I rested my head on his chest, wrapping my right arm around his torso.

"I love you so much." He kissed my temple as I shut my eyes.

"I love you too." 

#spencer reid #BAU #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction