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bubblybubbubs · 4 years ago

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Stuck With Me (3)

Summary - Draco’s POV on losing his soulmate

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count - 3.5k

AN- I am so sorry this took so long, I hope you all enjoy it!

Part 1 2

taglist - @lonely-kermit @lifeasdreamgirl @mera-shifts @abbyloubaton @clumsilyclueless @confusedscreaminggremlin @seanh-boredom @weasleysmalfoyxstyles @thefandomplace @mayempress @shadyrose66622 @jay-jay-love @ktvia @lovebynorth @sweet-creature98 @remmyswritings @chaoticgirl04

Sometimes Draco thought about how different his life would be had he not left you, had you not gotten hurt and lost your fucking memory.

It was truly ridiculous, the universe was actively conspiring against him, he was sure of it.

His current living situation just proved that further to him. “Wake the fuck up.” Blaise said slowly pouring water on his face even though Blaise himself was evidently groggy. “I will kill you.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Draco was unsure as to why Blaise had chosen to live in a crappy apartment when his family Manor was free. He missed his silk sheets and expensive pillows. Yet sadly the ministry had decided they wanted to take that leaving Draco on Blaise’s smelly consignment store couch. Had he gotten completely cut off by his family? Perhaps, it would make the disgustingly plain beans and toasts they ate daily make a lot more sense. He’d hate to think that Blaise fed them this by choice.

“Guess who wrote.” Blaise said, wiggling a letter in Draco’s face.

“Loud ginger?”

“Loud ginger.” He confirmed dropping it in on Draco’s face. “You should answer her before we get a howler, then we’ll really see how loud the ginger can get.” Draco looked at the letter, Ginny’s name was scrawled on the envelope and the aggressiveness of the signature made him heavily considering not opening it but the possibility of getting a howler from her convinced him otherwise.

Draco,

You are the worst and I hate you. I’m not sure if you care anymore given that you have refused to make contact with her but y/n is doing fine. I mean sure she’s been asking about her soulmate and lying to her is slowly killing me, but I’m glad you and Blaise are having fun in your bachelor pad and that you have successfully cleared your amnesiac soulmate out of your head.

Looking forward to hearing your pathetic excuses,

Ginny Weasley.

It was way too fucking early for this.

Things were strange.

You had gotten most of your memories back but everything was very different than what you remembered, everyone was different after the war.

The Weasleys, oh the poor Weasleys, they were like your family but the life has been sucked out of them without Fred. They had all tried to hide it from you, they believed you were already going through enough and you didn’t need their problems too. Ginny especially, she hadn’t left your side since you woke up. You kind of felt bad for Harry because whenever he wanted to spend some one on one time with Ginny she always insisted you tagged along.

For example whatever the fuck this current situation was.

“I’m really sorry Harry.” You whispered to him. “I told her I’d be fine alone.”

At first it had sort of made sense how careful everyone had been around you, but at this point it was exhausting. You would walk into a room and it would just go silent. You lost your memory, not your basic communication skills.

“It’s fine, I understand Ginny can be quite persistent.”

“What about me.” Ginny said hooking her arms with the both of you.

“Just that I don’t think I should be going on your dates anymore, it’s kind-“

“Ginny.” Harry said interrupting you pointing towards a boy down the street. He was blonde and lanky, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

You had seen Ginny mad, in fact it was one of the first things to come back to you. Her calm fury was something that hadn’t remained constant since she was young and right now you saw it on her face as she stared daggers into the boy.

She scoffed. “I’ll be back.”

“This might take a while.” Harry said quietly, shaking his head. “Come on we can meet Ginny there.” You stole a glance across the street as Harry dragged you away. Ginny was yelling at the boy but he didn’t seem to care because he wasn’t looking at her he was looking at you. You felt your face heat up and you looked away from him following Harry. “Who was that, should I know him?”

Harry paused for a minute.

He had that face that people had whenever they were walking on eggshells around you.“He went to school with us but I don’t think you two were ever friends.” The way he didn’t look you in the eyes screamed to you that he was lying.Harry was always a horrible bloody liar.

It was really hard for Draco to process what Ginny was saying. Her anger had gone right to her face and Draco had been silently betting with himself as to how long it would take for her face to turn the same color as her hair. “Your face is really red.” Draco said, struggling to hold back his laughter. “Are you drunk.” Ginny said stoically.

Was he? It was likely, he honestly couldn't remember the morning or yesterday. The days were sort of blending together.

“Malfoy.” Ginny said. Usually when people used his name they were yelling at him or were angry at him. But Ginny said it with pity which somehow felt worse.

“I don’t get why you're doing this to yourself.” She said. “You’re miserable.” He deserved to be miserable.

“It’s for the best.”

“How’s that.”

Draco had no interest in divulging his feelings to weaslette of all people, but it seemed his judgement was slightly impaired by the alcohol he may or may not had been drinking. “I’m going to fucking Azakban Ginevra,I just dont see the point in telling her I’m her soulmate and possibly facing rejection just for me to be thrown in Azkaban for the rest of my life.” Draco huffed. “Even if she somehow forgave me, I doubt the dementors will be allowing conjugal visits.”

“There are no more dementors at Azkaban, Kingsley got rid of them.”

Now normally Draco was against hitting girls but he was considering it heavily. “Thank you Weasley. I feel way better, I’m sure Azkaban is a paradise now. Remind me to send Kingsley a thank you letter.”

“Draco.” Ginny said.

Gross, hearing Ginny say his first name with pity felt even worse.

“You’re not going to Azkaban, Harry agreed to speak at your trial.”

“Oh great he’ll testify to the one time I helped him, I’m sure it’ll cancel everything else out.” He said. “I’m not a good person Weasley, that’s why I know I’m going to Azkaban, because I deserve it.”

“Is that why you’re staying away from y/n?” Ginny said even angrier than before. “Is this some sort of self punishment.”

Draco stayed quiet.

“Merlin, Draco go to fucking therapy.” Ginny huffed. “You’re not the only one that’ll suffer because of your self pity. She needs her fucking soulmate back, as much as I hate you for everything you’ve put her through I can’t argue with the fucking universe and neither can you.”

“Exactly.”

“What?”

“I shouldn’t have fucking gotten involved with her in the first place, it’s only put her in danger.” He took a deep shaky breath. “And her losing her memory was the universe’s way of telling me to stay away.”

He had known for a long time that she was too good for him

It was dark and he was tired, turns out making potter stinks badges and teaching all of Slytherin clever chants was demanding. Draco wasn't really paying attention to his surroundings as he walked back to his dorm until of course he heard quiet sobs. He was a firm believer that crying in public was pathetic, especially in a hallway where anyone could stumble across you. And he might’ve told them that had it not been you. He had been thinking about you, not that he would ever tell anyone that ever. But how could he not, you were his soulmate and that had to mean something.

He barely had time to think as his feet moved on their own bringing him in front of you.

“Why are you crying.”

Merlin, could he have been any less compassionate.

“Why do you care Malfoy.” You said.

He hated the way you looked pretty even if your eyes were all puffy and your face was all red.

“I don’t.”

He did. He even started to walk away for dramatic effect of course.

“I’m scared.” It felt weird to hear sincere words from you that weren't you yelling at him, and he hated the fact that he didn't hate it. “Harry has his first task tomorrow he could get hurt or worse.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. Don’t tell him I told you this but he has to be some sort of invincible to defeat Voldemort at the age of 1. Don't you think?”He could hardly believe the words he was saying.

“I suppose you’re right.” You finished off.

Draco sat tensely, he wasn't exactly sure what to do. He couldn't hug you could he? No that would be seriously overstepping. You would probably punch him in the face, again. After all you had been the one who wanted to forget about the whole soulmate thing and of course you were a halfblood and a gryffindor on top of that. It would never work.

For once he hated being right.

You were actively weighing how likely it was for Ginny to kill you if you woke her up.

Very, is what you eventually came up with. Maybe you could play the amnesia card.

“What do you want y/n.” Ginny grogged from under her. “I’ve been listening to you shifting around for the last hour.”

You had been staying at the Weasley’s and you had absolutely refused to take Fred’s bed so that had resulted in a cramped hammock floating in Ginny’s room.

You turned around to face her with a sorry look on your face.

“Did I know that boy, the one you were yelling at.” You said. “I just feel like I knew him.”

Ginny was quiet the same way Harry was. “No.” She said turning away from you. “No you didn’t.”

“Ginny-”

“Y/n please don’t.” Ginny said, cutting you off. “It’s not for me to tell, if it was believe me you’d already know.”

“I want to go.”

“Go where.”

“To Hogwarts.”

It was embarrassing. Everyone had gone already; they had been able to at least attempt to cope with the trauma they had endured. And you who couldn't even remember the bloody war couldn't work up the nerves to go.

Ginny stared at you for a bit before muttering. “Hermione and Ron are going soon, they’ll likely let you join them.” You were about to make an argument about going on your own before Ginny turned back around nonverbally telling you that the conversation was over.

You still couldn’t sleep and not from lack of trying. Your mind was whirring, ever since you had seen Ginny yell at the boy your lack of memory seemed to be feeling different. And your fear was beginning to settle in, your doctor said that some memories may never come back and that thought made you sick to your stomach. You didn’t feel all that different, Ginny said you were the same whenever you asked. But she could be lying (since she seemed to be in the habit of doing so these days) and you would never know because you had amnesia.

Draco was regretting not taking his plea deal. He would much rather be sleeping in Azkaban than waking up on Blaise’s concerningly uncomfortable couch to an angry looking ginger towering over him. No one seemed to value his rest and it was getting ridiculous. He pressed his eyes closed and pull his blanket further over his face in hopes that maybe Ginevra would disappear. Sadly that was not the case and Ginny ripped the blanket off of him leaving Draco quite cold.

Ginny stared down at him as she stood impatiently at the foot of the couch.

“Blaise someone broke into your flat.”

“I noticed mate.” Blaise said who looked just as exhausted hunched over his coffee.

“We need to talk.”

“We talked remember, or were you drunk too?”

Ginny did not look amused and Draco almost felt bad for being so difficult but then he remembered he didn't care.

“Y/n’s going to Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione. She’s likely going to get her memories back.” Ginny said. “Thought you should know.”

Draco sat up. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Ginny said taking a deep breath. “You need to be there.”

“How so?”

“She’s going to remember all the shitty things you’ve done to her and are yet to apologize for and you’re going to lose your soulmate for good.”

“I don't see how me being there will change that.”

Ginny didn't answer him rather she walked towards his chimney. “You know what, screw you. I truly do not care if you go, I just thought you should have the choice that's all.”

Ginny didn't look at Draco, rather giving Blaise a short nod before using the floo to go back to the Burrow.

Draco let himself fall back down to the couch as he listened to Blaises loudly chow down his cereal.

“So are you going to go?” Blaise said his mouth still full.

He felt bad for Blaise’s mum all that money on etiquette lessons for what?

“No.” Draco said, burying his head in his pillow.

“You’re a tosser.”

“I can live with that.”

He could and he has. If he had a sickle for everytime he was called some variation of ‘tosser’ he certainly would not be sleeping on Blaise’s couch.

“I’m calling Pansy.” Blaise didn’t scare him, not in the slightest. But Pansy was another story, Pansy scared everyone, especially the people that loved her which sadly included Draco. “I will kill you.”

“You’re just saying that cause you know she’ll knock some sense into you.”

“I have a lot of sense.” Draco groaned. “In fact I have too much sense.”

Blaise ignored Draco’s exaggerated groans as he called Pansy.The call was short or maybe it was long, all Draco knew was that Pansy was standing over him with that look on her face.

“I’m not going, and you’re not changing my mind Pansy.”

“Blaise leave.” Pansy ordered.

Blaise looked insulted. “This is my house.”

“You call this a house?”

Blaise huffed mumbling under his breath curses at Pansy.

“That was rude.”

“So you're going to lecture me on rudeness now, that's rich coming from you.”

“I dont care.”

“You look and smell like shit, I can tell you ‘don’t care’.” Pansy said.

Never in her life had Pansy been one to sugar coat things and apparently she had no intention of starting to do so. Draco was going to argue it was the couch but he realized he couldn't remember the last time he showered so he kept his mouth shut. Draco a year ago would’ve drowned himself in the black lake had he known he’d come to be like this.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m pulling the card.”

“Pansy no that’s not fair.” Draco said sitting up.

“Fair?”

Poor choice of words.

“Draco, do I have to remind you my soulmate is dead, I stopped feeling tugs and being able to talk to my soulmate when i was 13. Your soulmate is alive by some fucking miracle, and frankly you’re being a selfish prick.”

“Oh.” He always hated when Pansy talked about it. Not because he didn't care but according to Pansy because he cared too much and the last time he had shown any sign of pity towards Pansy it had not gone well for him.

“What lies do you have Ginevra feeding her, does she think she has no soulmate, does she think her soulmate is dead?”

“She doesn’t think she has a soulmate.” Draco said in a low voice, he wasn't proud of what he was doing but he also knew he had no choice. “She was in her coma during the tug. I figured by the time the next one rolls around I have something figured out.”

“And what about you.” She asked. “She may not remember you but you’ll remember her, you'll never forget that you have a soulmate out there that you refuse to see.”

“I won't let myself ruin her.”

“She’s a grown woman, I find it demeaning that you don't see her capable of making her own damn choices.”

“What?”

“You think she'll hate you, you think she’ll be ruined, you think she’s better off. What about what she thinks? You think she'd be okay with you slowly killing yourself?”

“You're a bitch Pansy.”

“So I’ve been told.” She looked towards the clock.

“Come on lets get you something to eat.”

She reached her hand out for Draco to grab.

“I can walk to the kitchen without holding your hand thank you very much.”

Pansy rolled her eyes and grabbed onto Draco’s arm.

“What are you-”

Draco’s sentence was cut off by Pansy apparating them both out of the loft.

Draco had gone to his fair share of therapy, did it ever work? no, Draco would rather die before talking about his feelings with a stranger but he had been taught his fair share of anger exercises . And Merlin did they come in handy, truly it was the only thing keeping him from throttling Pansy as she stood there with a smug face looking at the rubble that once was Hogwarts.

“Pansy.” Draco said slowly.

“Shut up, look she’s right there.”

“I’m not ready Pansy.” Draco said wiping his palms on his pants out of stress. “I wanted to bring her flowers.”

“flowers?”

“Forget me nots.” He said with a sardonic dry chuckle. “It was our unofficial flower, ironic isn’t it.”

“The fact that you have an unofficial flower makes me want to throw up.”

“I need flowers.” He said. Pansy groaned before searching the grass. She picked up a dandelion swirling her wand transfiguring it into a bouquet of forget me nots.

“Here, go.” He was about to give another excuse but Pansy apperated away. The one time he needed her she leaves.

He wasn’t exactly sure how he was supposed to approach her without seeming like a stalker.

His thoughts were disrupted by Hermione and Ron walking up to him. He wanted to turn around so bad but he had no doubt that if he did so Hermione and Ron wouldn’t hesitate to curse him.

“Granger, Weasley.” He said sticking his hands as deep as his pockets would allow him.

“I didn’t think you were going to come.” Hermione said.

Draco shrugged.

“Just go talk to her.” Ron said.

“Thats why Im here.”

Ron mumbled something under his breath but Draco didn’t feel like fighting Weasley.

Draco had never felt such anxiety because of another person. He had always been confident and walked around like he owned the world, but now he felt scared.He watched you as you traced your hands across the bricks of Hogwarts, his steps faltering as he came closer to you.

“Hi Y/n.” He called out.

You turned to look at him. Draco’s heart felt heavy at the way you looked at him, not any recognition in your eyes. You had once looked at him with such love, then such hate but now you looked at him with nothing. because right now that’s what he was to you, and it broke his heart.

“You.” You said stepping closer. “You were the one talking to Ginny.”

“I wouldn’t really call it talking, she yelled I stood there.”

“Ginny does that a lot.” You shrugged.

“Yeah.” He said.

You spotted the flowers in his hands.

“I’m sorry, who did you lose?”

His hands tightened on the flowers.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” You said. “I lost my friend Fred, and my memory. But I don't feel like I lost it since I can't remember ever having it. But I miss Fred.”

He studied every centimeter of your face noting the subtle changes he didn’t notice the last time he saw you as you rambled on about Fred anxiously.

“You.” He said voice wavering. “I lost you.”

You stayed quiet for a second.

“I’m sorry I-“

“don’t know who I am?” He said with a dry laugh. “I was sort of expecting that.”

You didn’t say anything studying his face for anything that sparked a memory in you.

He dug through his jacket pocket pulling out a photo.

His hands were sweating and he tried his best not to touch your hand. Partially because he didn’t want you to feel his sweaty hands and because he feared he would break down at the realization that you were finally here in front of him.

“I’m Draco and you’re my soulmate.” He said

AN THIS IS NOT THE LAST PART THE LAST PART WILL BE THE NEXT PART

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #ginny weasley x reader #hp imagine #harry potter #harry potter x reader #hinny #ronmione #hp #draco #malfoy #x reader #stuck with me #angst

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years ago

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Draco Malfoy and the Parent Trap (headcanons)

Request: hc for scorpius trying to get his father back together with his dada teacher a while after his mother passing because he wanted his father to be happy and he found out reader used to be his school sweetheart before things got in their way? - anon

A/N: This is a fairly long headcanon and for that, I apologise! I had so much fun with this though! I’ve split this into sections like how I would a full length fic otherwise it’s too hard to follow, in my opinion.

Warnings: female reader, mischief and mishaps, kissing, fluff, humour, mentions of death, past relationships.

Scorpius Malfoy loved his mother; he adored his mother, but even he could no longer deny that she was not coming back.

Astoria Malfoy had died, and she was not coming back.

It had been years since her passing and whilst Scorpius missed her every single day, he could not ignore the fact that his father needed to meet someone new.

-------

Draco Malfoy adored his wife; he would give up his soul to have her back in his arms where he could love her as wholly as he had when she was alive. If he had possession of the resurrection stone, he knew who he would bring back, he didn't care whether it would change her - he would have her back.

However, Draco Malfoy was lonely. He missed his wife, but he also missed the companionship of a relationship. He missed going to bed and having someone there when he woke up wishing him a good morning.

He yearned to have someone to hold; someone to love; someone to care for.

Draco Malfoy simply wanted someone.

-------

Scorpius didn't really have a favourite class; he enjoyed them all as he loved learning, but he found himself drawn to Defence Against the Dark Arts when you took over as Professor, breathing new life into the subject.

“Scorpius!” You call, smiling widely as the blonde ambles over to you. “Well done! I haven't seen spell casting like that since I last saw your father.”

“You knew my father?” Scorpius asks you, shocked at the admission.

“We were very close for a time,” You admit, feeling your face flush as the teenager looks on confused, “But we drifted apart.”

“What was he like back then?” Scorpius asks before he can help himself, “Dad doesn't speak a lot about his time at Hogwarts; he says his life began when he met my mother.”

You laugh, pressing a hand to your chest. “I understand why he would say that; he always was the romantic. I was sorry to hear of her passing; I remember when she attended Hogwarts.”

“Thank you,” Scorpius whispers quietly; a new wave grief washing over him as he meets another person who0 had known his mother.

“You’re the spitting image of your father. How is he?” You ask, needing to know.

“He’s okay. He’s lonely,” Scorpius admits, “He misses my mother.”

“As he should,” You state, nodding solemnly. “He always was serious. Even in school; I could very rarely get him to take a night off and have some fun.”

Scorpius smiles at the image conjured in his mind; the teenaged version of his father causing mayhem around the castle - it just didn't seem true. Scorpius sighs when he glances at the clock. “I’ll see you next time, Professor.”

“Bye, young Malfoy,” You laugh, thinking back to a time when a blonde haired teenager had been the centre of your universe.

------

Scorpius brings up the subject at lunch, asking Albus and Rose whether they knew anything of it.

Albus shrugs, sipping at his water before shaking his head. Rose frowns, tapping her chin with her finger. “I remember hearing my parents talk about it,” She murmurs, seeming far off as if in a distant memory.

“What did they say?” Scorpius all but demands, perching on the edge of his seat.

Rose’s eyes brighten as the conversation comes back to her. “I remember!” She all but cries, “They were discussing Professor (Y/L/N)’s appointment as our professor - they knew her at Hogwarts, you see.”

“Anything else?” Scorpius presses, already aware of such knowledge.

“My dad spoke about how he could never believe that someone like Professor (Y/L/N) would date your dad.”

“WHAT?” Scorpius shouts; not out of the slight insult to his father, but the fact that his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher used to date his father and neither said a word about it. “They dated?!”

Rose shrugs, reaching for her drink. “They must have if my parents were talking about it. I don't know how long for, but both my parents said it was the nicest they had seen your father act.”

Scorpius frowns at Rose’s words but does not comment; instead, he wonders about his father, overworking himself at St Mungo’s so he doesn't have to come home to an empty house.

“Scorp,” Albus sings, interrupting Scorpius’ worrying, “I have an idea.”

“What is that?” Scorpius asks warily; these ideas never ended well.

“You were talking about wanting your father to find love again... and here you are being educated by on elf his exes.”

“Okay?”

“Set them up you fool!”

“Oh!” Scorpius gasps, seeing the plan fall into place right before his eyes.

“Alright,” He concedes, “But I’ll need your help.”

-----

The plan gets put into motion the following week.

Scorpius approaches you at the end of Thursday’s lesson, a sheepish look on his face.

“You know your father had the same expression when he messed up,” You snort, “What did you do?”

“It’s not so much what I did, but what my father would like to hear.”

“Pardon?”

“My father wrote to me yesterday asking if he could have an early report of my progress in school. Since you already know him, I thought - if you don't mind, that is - you would write to him first, update him on DADA?”

You roll your eyes. “Of course, Scorpius. I’ll write a report his evening and send it with the owls tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you!” Scorpius exclaims; eyes wide with happiness as the first stage of the plan falls into place.

-----

Stage One: set up communication.

Draco had never sent his son a letter asking for his progress so far; Draco never rushed for academic excellence, he was simply happy with Scorpius’ best.

However, the report would hopefully open up a line of communication between the exes which would in turn lead to something more.

-------

Owl Post arrives only once a day so it isn't until Saturday that Scorpius hears back from his father.

He opens his letter with barely restrained glee; Albus and Rose watching on curiously.

Inside the weighty envelope, Scorpius finds your progress report of his work in DADA but also an attached note from his father:

“Scorpius, you do not need to feel pressured to send me reports. I know you’ll try your best in every subject. You will do well with (Y/N) teaching you. She was a genius at this subject when I was at school.”

Scorpius freezes for a moment; running a finger over his father’s handwriting as he is hit with a keen sense of absence. He didn't get homesick often, but right now, he misses his father more than words could say.

Albus reads over the letter, Rose follows. The three sit in silence as they think of their next move. Rose comes up with the idea.

“Your dad needs to reply to Professor (Y/L/N). It would look rude if he did not.”

Scorpius nods; reaching into his bag for a piece of parchment and his quill. He scrawls a quick reply to his father:

“Dad, I just thought you would appreciate the update. I hope you replied to Professor (Y/L/N), it would be rude to not have given that she took the time to write to you.”

His reply is sent in the afternoon when he treks up the Owlery, feeds a postal owl before offering up his letter to be returned to Draco. Scorpius had even tucked Professor (Y/L/N)’s original letter in the envelope so his father did not forget what she had written.

As Scorpius watches the owl fly away, he wonders whether this plan will ever work.

-----

Time passes and Scorpius begins to wonder whether the plan is working.

He watches you in lessons; notices that you seem a little brighter, that there is a little glow about you when you smile.

And Scorpius cannot help but wonder whether his father did reply and that the both of you were keeping in touch.

The hope that unfurls in his chest at the thought if his father happy again is what makes him pray to Merlin for it all to work out.

-----

It’s a Friday afternoon, weeks into the plan, when you approach Scorpius.

“Scorpius, may I talk to you for a moment?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“I’m not sure if your father had made you aware or whether he was keeping it a surprise, but he’s coming to the school tomorrow.”

Scorpius’ face goes slack at your words.

Draco had never come to the school; had not wanted to come after the second wizarding war and for good reason too. For Draco to be stepping foot back into the place he so strongly thinks hates him, there must be a powerful reason.

“Why?” is all Scorpius asks.

You fiddle with your fingers before replying. “He sent me a letter letting me know he would be coming to see you, but to also catch up with me. You don’t mind, do you? I know this could be strange for you. I’ll happily cancel if you want to spend the whole day with your father.”

The hope that had been hiding away just behind his heart begins to bloom in his chest as he takes in the hopeful expression on your face. It's then that Scorpius realises that you don't want to cancel on his father, but you would for him. It’s then that Scorpius realises that his father might just be ready for moving on.

“I don't mind at all,” He answers, finding his words truthful. “You and my father have a lot to catch up on.”

“That we do,” You laugh before smiling genuinely at the teenager, “Thank you, Scorpius.”

Scorpius smiles; grabbing his belongings and making his way out of the classroom. Stage two of the plan had begun with Scorpius even realising.

He knows exactly what he needs to do tomorrow.

-----

Scorpius barely sleeps all night for thinking of it.

He’s up with the sun and the first to breakfast as he waits for his father's arrival.

He remains sitting in the Great Hall when he begins to wonder just exactly where his father is. It was long past the time of his arrival.

It’s then that Scorpius decides to wander to the DADA classroom.

He finds Draco there in quiet conversation with you; sitting close together on the desks, hands so close touching that it almost pains Scorpius to look.

He realises then how well you fit together; how you both balance each other out when you snort at something Draco says, reaching out to show his shoulder playfully. Scorpius cannot remember a time when he saw his father have fun; have a joke with someone.

Heads bent close together, Scorpius catches the glimpse of an indulgent smile on his father’s face and it's then that Scorpius knows that his father has found another person to love.

Scorpius thought it would hurt, to see his father with another, but it doesn't. Instead, Scorpius feels relief that his father might not be so alone forever.

An idea pops into Scorpius’ mind.

Gathering his courage, Scorpius reaches for the door handle, and slams the door shut loudly.

He covers his mouth to quash the laughter that bubbles at the sound of your surprised yelp.

He quickly casts a locking charm on the door, remembering an advanced one taught to him by Rose whose mother had taught it to her.

“Let us out!” You yell, shaking the door handle and banging on the door.

“Not yet!” He shouts back with a smile.

“Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy!” Draco shouts, “Let us out right now!”

“Not until you get your act together!”

“What?”

“You can't come out until you admit your feelings!”

And with that, the voices on the other side of the door fall silent and Scorpius sits himself across the corridor from the entrance to the classroom.

-----

Draco shakes his head at the audacity of his son.

You press a hand to your mouth to stop the laughter from leaving.

“It’s not funny!” Draco laments.

“It kinda is,” You admit, “Your son could see something neither of us could.”

“What?”

“Draco, you would have to be half blind to not see my feelings for you.”

“What?” The blonde repeats, once again struck dumb.

You shrug, “We’ve been talking for a while and I thought there was something there. At least, there is something there on my end.”

“It’s been so long,” He whispers, closing his eyes against the wave of emotions washing over him.

Draco feels nothing but conflict; he can no longer ignore the rising affection he has for you, but with every sting of it, he’s reminded of Astoria.

“I’m not asking to replace her,” You whisper, drawing your hands up to your chest as if protecting the already breaking heart. “I know I could never do that.”

Opening his eyes, Draco sees the stricken expression on your face and hates that he’s the cause for it. “I miss having someone there,” He admits quietly, “I miss having someone.”

“I could be that someone,” You state.

“I want you to be that someone,” Draco admits, pulling your hands from your chest, holding them gently in his own. “I want you.”

A watery smile breaks across your face as Draco drops on elf your hands to caress your cheek. “A new chapter,” You whisper, leaning into his touch.

“A new chapter,” Draco promises, ducking his head to kiss you.

------

Scorpius Malfoy misses his mother every day. He knows that she will always be with him, but he misses her nonetheless.

However, he cannot ignore how happy he is for his father to have found someone to love again.

****

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obxmxybxnk @obx-beach @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey @oopskashish @justmesadgirl @detroitobsessed @sexysirius @just-a-belgian-girl @lahoete @minty-malfoy @fallinallinmendes @ravenclawbitch426 @ochrythum @beiahadid @gryffindors-weasley @dracosathenaeum @belladaises

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy headcanon #scorpius malfoy #draco malfoy fluff

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just-come-baek · 4 years ago

Text

body rhythm

Pairing: Taeyong x reader | mentions of Seulgi x Irene | mentions of Johnny x almost everybody

Themes: smut | fluff | dance!au

Word count: 14.8k

Summary: Taeyong and Seulgi participate in a nationwide dance competition. However, due to unfortunate scheduling, she has to drop out of it, suggesting you, out of all people, fill in. Taeyong isn't pleased with how things manage to fall out of place, but he is in no position to be whiny about it. For him, it's either learn to work with you or lose yet another time to his arch-enemy.

A/N it's my entry for song association event, I hope you like it, and also don't forget to check out other entries ^^ they must be all out by now lol

“Are you ready?” Johnny inquired as he set his fourth coffee of the day on his desk and plopped onto the swivel chair in a cubicle next to mine. It was a really long day at work, and we both had trouble sitting through the end of it. Heaving a deep sigh, I looked at the pile of documents that required my attention, groaning before I sprawled across my workspace.

“I thought it’s canceled tonight,” I spoke as I looked at my wristwatch, wincing when I realized there was still one more hour until Johnny and I could finally clock out.

A few months ago, our lovely firm, instead of giving us a well-deserved raise, had decided to provide us with a variety of extra activities. Though I’d rather get some monetary benefits, together with Johnny, we chose dance classes. Our company was paying for it, so we might’ve as well attended.

Ever since then, every Thursday, we would go to a dance class to sweat out all of the pent-up frustration. I didn’t have plenty of expectations, still bitter after the company’s decision, but the dance class turned out amazing. Seulgi was our teacher, and although she was a bit demanding, she was patient enough to teach us some sick moves. If that didn’t scream talent™, I had no idea what did.

“Well… last week, she said she might be absent today, but I got a text from school that someone will fill in,” Johnny spoke matter-of-factly. I sighed, checking my phone, reading the same text message from the studio. I really didn’t have energy for dance classes, but there was no way Johnny would let me skip.

“Do you want to grab a drink after? I think I need one, or a few,” I proposed as I sat back in my chair, trying to let my eyes rest from the computer’s screen.

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Johnny asked rhetorically, smiling at me as if I just read his mind. It was almost Friday at this point, and we deserved a little treat.

Though it felt like an eternity, the clock finally struck 5 p.m., letting us leave our claustrophobic cubicles. Tomorrow we would come back for another dose of torture, but right now, we were free. Only for a few hours, though.

Quickly, I returned home to get my gym bag. Thankfully, I lived within walking distance from both – my office and the dance studio, so it wasn’t as troublesome to commute as it was for Johnny, who got stuck in traffic almost every day.

A few minutes before the dance class, I was already changed into my gym attire, waiting for Johnny. Though no one was texting me, I stared at my phone, furiously typing away. Moon Taeil, also known as my secret crush, was leaning against the wall on the other side of the corridor, and I tried every single trick my mind could come up with not to look desperate.

“At this point, he must think you hate him,” Johnny commented as he conjured in front of me out of nowhere. “You should hit on him instead of trying to bolt every time he approaches you,” he added, and I rolled my eyes at his yet another one shitty advice.

“Can you remind me why I don’t take dating advice from you?”

“Why are you attacking me? I just wanted to help. There’s no need to get so aggressive,” Johnny defended his case, not really answering my question. Johnny was a self-proclaimed love expert, but to me, he was more of a pathological playboy. Either way, he seemed to understand the secrets of flirtation to pick up girls whenever he set his mind to it.

“I am just trying not to be obvious,” I commented, stealing a glance at Taeil. It was a silly crush, and though Johnny encouraged me to go for it, I never decided to act on my feelings. Taeil probably didn’t feel this way about me, so remaining idle actually saved me embarrassment after an inevitable rejection.

“Speaking of which, I figured out why Seulgi is so resistant to my charms,” Johnny announced proudly, and I raised my eyebrow, waiting for the big reveal. Everybody in our group knew that Johnny was attracted to Seulgi, but every time he tried to approach her, she would brush him off.

“By figured out, you mean you stalked her, right?” I commented when Johnny handed me his phone, showing me Seulgi’s profile. According to what Johnny dug out in social media, Seulgi was getting married to Irene – her girlfriend of five years. “Huh,” I mused as I gave him back his phone, trying not to laugh at him. Seulgi was already madly in love with someone else, no wonder she could resist his charm.

“Call it whatever you want,” Johnny started, putting his phone away. “Just don’t hold me down when FBI finally recruits me for my impeccable detective skills,” he argued, and I laughed as I imagined him leaving our lovely company. That would be a shame; I couldn’t imagine anyone else sitting in the cubicle next to mine.

“The room should be open,” someone hollered, mentioning for us to open the doors and get inside. I had seen him a few times around the school, so I deduced he must’ve been our substitute teacher today.

Once everybody took their spot on the dance floor, the man cleared his throat. “Hello everybody, my name is Taeyong. Together with Seulgi, we run this school, and I hope we will have a lot of fun today with new choreography,” he announced politely with a practiced professionalism. Perhaps Taeyong didn’t seem as cool as Seulgi, but we had to give him a chance to prove us wrong.

Taeyong was intimidating. I wouldn’t want to be left alone with him. When he showed us a few moves, he was immensely focused on delivering one hundred percent. It was impressive and admirable, but at the same, Taeyong gave off a scary fierce aura. Though he was a great dancer and teacher, Seulgi was just better.

“I think I have a heart attack,” I panted, gasping for air. The new choreography required lots of jumping, and I didn’t expect so much cardio today. I wasn’t out of shape; however, after dancing to Taeyong’s choreography, I had some doubts.

“We should’ve skipped,” Johnny commented, bending over with his palms on his knees, supporting his huge body. Taeyong’s dance routine was too much for us, and we weren’t the only people struggling to breathe. Thankfully, next week Seulgi would be back.

***

“You’re not gonna believe this,” Johnny announced, craning his neck to look inside my cubicle. Heaving a sigh, I put my pen down, giving him my full attention.

This better be good.

“What is it? Who are you stalking this time?” I inquired, giving him the attitude. Johnny was spending too much time on his phone during working hours, but I couldn’t really frown upon it because I often caught myself doing the same thing.

“First of all, I thought we agreed to call it researching, not stalking,” Johnny clarified, and I rolled my eyes. “And second of all, it’s Seulgi. She and the other guy from the dance studio qualified for some dance competition. Check this out,” Johnny explained, handing me his phone.

Seulgi and Taeyong rocked the stage. Though I had nothing to compare their performance to, they just oozed charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent. Without any shred of doubt, they would make it to the grand finale.

“Wow,” I mused, not sure how to appropriately respond. I was happy for their success; after all, their performance was broadcasted during prime time on national television. At this point, Seulgi and Taeyong were celebrities.

“I can’t wait for today’s class,” Johnny added in excitement, hiding his phone away inside the pocket of his jacket. “I have to congratulate her.”

“Them. You have to congratulate them,” I corrected Johnny as he seemed to forget about Seulgi’s dance partner. It wasn’t a solo competition, so both Seulgi and Taeyong deserved praise. “And as if you’ve forgotten, Seulgi is not and will never be interested in you. You gotta let this one go, man,” I added, hoping Johnny would stop his relentless flirting with Seulgi. Though it was funny at the beginning, it was evident Seulgi would appreciate it if he stopped.

“I am all over her. Trust me,” Johnny reassured me, and I let out a shallow sigh, wanting to believe him. “Do you know Wendy from the HR department? I think I’m gonna ask her out. I am all over Seulgi,” he added, and it actually convinced me. Although Johnny didn’t seek anything serious at this point in his life, and when something didn’t go according to his plan, he would shake it off and forget all about it.

“Ok, I believe you,” I said, giving him a genuine smile. “Oh, and I was thinking… how about some beer and chicken after dance classes today? I’ve been craving them the whole day,” I offered, and Johnny enthusiastically nodded. It did sound like a solid plan.

Thankfully, this week Seulgi was back, and everybody appreciated it. Taeyong was a great teacher, but we were a group of beginners, and it was difficult for us to follow his routine. We just weren’t ready for such complex choreography.

Everybody had so much fun today. At first, we practiced some old routines, working on synchronization. Later on, Seulgi taught us a few new moves, which I recognized from her television performance. Admittedly, they weren’t as difficult as they looked. Maybe it was a little bold of me, but I was thinking I was doing a pretty good job today.

At the very end of the class, Johnny delivered a dramatic congratulatory speech, making people laugh out of utter cringe. It was a nice gesture, and Seulgi’s embarrassment was adorable. She would cover her blushed cheeks and turn around, hoping the ground could swallow her up. In all honesty, it seemed to be the only way to shut up Johnny.

Just when we were about to be dismissed, I heard someone calling my name. Surprisingly, it was Seulgi. She must’ve wanted to discuss something with me. Damn it, was she going to scold me for not improving? Or was it because I sat half of the song out? I just needed a short break; I had no idea it would get me in trouble.

“I am sorry,” I apologized even though I wasn’t sure what for yet. Seulgi would enlighten me in a second, so I cleared my throat to apologize to her once again. However, when she giggled instead of yelling at me, I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” Johnny hollered before he strolled out of the practice room.

“Am I in trouble?” I asked, and Seulgi smiled, shaking her head.

Great, it was a relief.

“Actually, I may sound crazy to you,” she started, fidgeting a little. It was strange, Seulgi was a strong and confident woman, but right now, she seemed rather bashful. “Would you like to participate in a dance competition?”

Her question took me aback.

“What?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around the topic.

“Let me explain,” she offered, and I reluctantly nodded.

By the look on her face, I could tell it wasn’t going to be a quick chit-chat. Seulgi had a lot of things to explain, so we decided to sit on the floor before she began her speech.

Patiently, I listened to everything she wanted to tell me.

Seulgi and Taeyong wanted to participate in a dance competition ever since they had decided to open up a dance school together. Last week they really thought they were going to achieve their dream. Unfortunately, as soon as they qualified and received the schedule, complications started to follow.

Maybe it was a little bit overconfident of them to think they’d make it to the finals, but it still made them anxious. Regardless of their talent, they wouldn’t be able to perform in the grand finale. Apparently, on the very same day, Seulgi was getting married.

At first, I wanted to interject that they could reschedule, but Seulgi beat me to it.

“It would be the third time we reschedule it, and I just can’t let that happen. I don’t want Irene to think I prioritize dancing over her. She means the world to me, and I’d quit a thousand times to get married to her,” Seulgi confessed, and I tried my best to contain my feels. There was something raw and pure about Seulgi’s love, and it moved me.

Seulgi’s proposition was genius in its simplicity. Together with Taeyong, she would perform, climbing up the rankings. And if by any chance, they would make it to the final round; she wanted me to fill in. Given I had been dancing at their studio for about four months I couldn’t comprehend why she chose me.

I was a rookie, for crying out loud!

Finding a substitute dancer made a lot of sense, actually. Instead of dropping out, they could find a replacement. This way, Taeyong could still make his dream come true. And next year, together with Seulgi, they could try to defend the title.

However, once again, Seulgi read my mind and answered my question before I voiced my doubts. She must’ve really thought this through before approaching me. It seemed she had rehearsed all possible inquires and came up with perfect answers.

“All of our dancer friends either compete against us or failed during qualifications,” she declared, and I hummed in response. “Unfortunately, people who already attempted joining can’t fill in for other dancers.”

“That sucks,” I commented, and Seulgi dryly chuckled.

“I think you would be a perfect fit,” she started, and I held my breath, wanting to hear what made her think I’d be able to rise to the challenge. “Everybody can memorize moves, but you have a natural passion for dancing. I can see it in class. Maybe you can’t see it yet because dancing is a hobby to you more than anything else, but I can tell you have the it™ factor.”

I was speechless. Seulgi, the dance prodigy, was praising my dancing skills. I couldn’t believe my ears. What kind of self-indulgent dream was it? Why couldn’t I dream like a normal person? I had tendency to toot my own horn sometimes, but it was just too much.

“I bet with proper training, you and Taeyong could win.”

“Let me think about it, okay?”

“Sure, of course! No pressure!” Seulgi replied enthusiastically, giving me enough space to clear my mind and think about it.

“See you next week.” I waved at her, exiting the dance room. Absentmindedly, I changed out of the gym clothes and walked out of the building, almost walking past Johnny.

“Hey, what did Seulgi want?” Johnny asked, grabbing my wrist, pulling me out of trance.

“She wants me to dance in her place if she and Taeyong ever make it to the finals.”

“What?!”

***

At first, I was hesitant about this whole thing. I wasn’t a professional dancer, and I really didn’t want to contribute to them losing the competition. However, Seulgi really made a point that they would have to drop out anyway, so in some twisted way, my participation gave them a slimmer of hope for victory.

Once I explained everything to Johnny, he really insisted I should help them out, spitting nonsense about fame and recognition and how I couldn’t doubt myself and just go with the flow. Opportunities like this rarely occurred, and I ought to welcome them with excitement.

So I did.

Every Saturday and Sunday, I dropped by the dance studio for practice. Taeyong still intimidated me, but I could deal with it. Seulgi was always around me to nag him whenever he demanded too much from me. They balanced each other very well, and it was fun working with them. Even though each practice left me with sore muscled, I was still excited. It was tangible proof I was improving.

Seulgi and Taeyong smoothly went through the contest, winning each battle with ease, slowly climbing in the ranking. There was still plenty of work until the grand finale, but everything looked they were to make it to the very top.

Unfortunately, the closer to the D-day, the less time Seulgi had to help us during practice. With her wedding coming up, she had a lot of preparations to deal with. As a result, Taeyong and I had to practice the dance routine on our own.

“No, you’re doing it all wrong,” Taeyong yelled in irritation when for the nth time, I turned to my right instead of my left. “Do it again; five, six, seven, eight,” he added, playing the song from the very beginning.

To say I was frustrated was an understatement of the century. I was aware that Taeyong really wanted to win the competition, but he didn’t have to be a dick about it. With no Seulgi to supervise him, he was unbearable.

“I think I need a break,” I declared once I turned to the wrong side again before Taeyong managed to scold me for it. Even though he shouted something again, I ignored it. With a deep sigh, I walked over to my gym bag to get my water bottle.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Taeyong asked, staring down at me with his arms folded across his chest, his demeanor dominant. His eyes were drilling holes in my head, his jaw was tightened – it was evident I was driving him up the wall. It was just a matter of seconds before Taeyong would snap, lashing out at me.

“I am taking a break,” I answered quickly, ignoring his angry stare. I was at my limit. If Taeyong didn’t back off, it would be the end of the practice for today. One more mean word and I’d storm out of the studio. I was here voluntarily. I was doing him a favor, and I didn’t deserve this type of treatment.

“Is it a joke to you?” Taeyong carried on, and I rolled my eyes. Of course, it wasn’t a joke to me. But at the same time, I was sick and tired of his shenanigans. I wanted him to win, but not when my mental health was on the line. He was pissing me off, and I wouldn’t let him walk all over me. “I thought you decided to help us out, but you’re not trying at all.”

He did not just say that.

“What?” I rhetorically asked, standing up, poking his chest with my forefinger. “I am trying my best here. You’re the one who makes it impossible to have fun dancing. You’re making it a chore, sucking all the fun out it.”

“Then tell me what I should do for you to finally make some progress? We’ve been stuck at this part for two weeks, and you still haven’t learned how to turn right!”

“Then go ahead and find someone else who can put up with your shit. I’m out,” I spoke, bending down to pick up my stuff, ready to leave the studio. Unfortunately, before I managed to exit the practice room, the doors opened, and Seulgi walked in with a confused expression on her face.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” She asked in worry, trying to put two and two together. It wouldn’t be the first time Taeyong and I argued, but it seemed to be the most intense one so far. It didn’t sit right with her. “Please don’t tell me you fought again.”

Briefly, I summarized what happened, and Seulgi looked down at Taeyong disapprovingly. I was glad Seulgi took my side; after all, she knew Taeyong could be too demanding.

“I am a dancer, but why does it feel I am a couple counselor? You two really have to learn how to work together when I’m not around,” she scolded us, making her point. If this whole arrangement was to work out, we both needed to establish some ground rules and learn how to put our differences aside. “I have an idea.”

Oh, no.

There was something mischievous in her tone, and I didn’t particularly like it.

“Let’s finish for today,” she proposed, and I smiled, thinking it was a great idea. Taeyong and I needed some time to chill, and calling it a day seemed like an appropriate way to do it. “Let’s go out clubbing instead!” Seulgi added cheerfully, clapping her hands in excitement.

“What?” Taeyong and I asked in unison, a bit surprised by Seulgi’s statement.

“That’s my prescription for the two of you,” she started, and I rolled my eyes. Taeyong and I didn’t get along as well as she wished for us to, but it wasn’t that bad. We didn’t need to bond over a few drinks in a crowded club. We would do just fine if Taeyong learned to go easy on me. “I believe we all can benefit from clubbing.”

“How come?”

“First of all, it will remind Taeyong that dancing is about fun, not overworking oneself,” Seulgi spoke, and I hummed, agreeing with her. “Second of all, it’ll give you a chance to loosen up. Your moves are still a bit stiff during intimate parts of the choreography,” she added, and Taeyong nodded in agreement. “And I really need something to drink because wedding planning is stressful as fuck.”

Not even thirty minutes later, we were inside the club.

“It’s a very sensual song. And you two really have to work hard to convey emotions through your dance,” Seulgi started as she sipped her tropical cocktail. “You must feel comfortable around each other and just ooze longing and sexual attraction,” she added, and I almost choked on my drink.

Performing with Taeyong was going to be more difficult than I had anticipated. When Seulgi and Taeyong showed me the choreography, I was amazed. Absolutely blown away. The way their bodies moved in synchronization left me speechless, but at the same time, I was a little bit nervous because I didn’t see myself living up to their level.

I wouldn’t consider myself particularly sexy. It made me feel awkward when I thought how seductive the dance routine actually was. I wasn’t sure I could pull this off, but Taeyong still had a lot of time to teach me.

“Take her to the dance floor,” Seulgi elbowed Taeyong, almost spilling his drink. Unenthusiastically, Taeyong looked at me before standing up and extending his arm.

Drunken people were jumping around us to the rhythm, and I awkwardly swayed from side to side, staring at Taeyong. With godlike precision, he moved, getting lost in the music. One could tell straight away Taeyong was a professional dancer.

Upon noticing how stiff I was, Taeyong shook his head, yanking me against his lean body. “How about you take a five-minute break to get that stick out of your ass? You look like you have no joints,” he yelled into my ear, his breath tickling my sensitive skin.

“I’ve had too little alcohol,” I replied, but Taeyong wasn’t having it.

“When we perform on the stage, will you need alcohol to let loose too?” Taeyong challenged with a playful smirk, and I rolled my eyes, too prideful to admit he was right. I couldn’t participate in that competition drunk. We wouldn’t win if I wasn’t able to come out of my shell and show everybody I had a sensual bone in my body.

“No,” I yelled into Taeyong’s ear. “How do I let loose?” I asked, hoping to hear some words of wisdom from him.

“Mirror what I’m doing,” Taeyong guided, and I nodded, focused on my new task. I could do that. I had been mirroring Seulgi’s movements during our classes, and I was pretty good at doing it. I could copy Taeyong’s moves.

At first, Taeyong danced a few classic moves we usually did during our warm-up routine. It was easy, and I think I nailed it. Later, he wiggled his upper body, feeling the rhythm. With envy, I observed how his body executed every single move, owning it. I wish I was half as good as Taeyong. Next to him, I probably looked like a crippled kid.

Upon noticing my struggle, Taeyong began jumping around, throwing his hands in the air. He looked ridiculous, but I remained focused on my task, dancing as if I was his shadow. Our bizarre moves earned some attention from other people, but our eyes were trained on each other, slowly getting lost in our own bubble.

I was sober, and I was on my way to owning the dance floor. I couldn’t believe it was happening. Maybe Taeyong’s charisma overshadowed my poor attempts of showcasing mine; however, I was sure I made a big step in the right direction. Slowly, I was improving.

“How about we spice it up a little bit?” Taeyong shouted into my ear, and I cocked up my eyebrow, thinking what he meant by that. “Don’t be shy,” he added, yanking me against his body. Taeyong was so close I could feel his legs rub against mine. “Come on, sweetheart. Touch me, tease me, feel me up,” Taeyong snickered, getting on my nerves. Not only Taeyong was smug for no reason, but he also quoted the song, which I was slowly growing to hate.

Taeyong must’ve assumed I’d back out. Surely, he didn’t expect me to follow his instructions and actually run my hands across his chest, shoulders, and back while simultaneously swaying my hips, earning approving stares from impressed men on the dance floor. At first, he was surprised he talked me into it, but a second later, he smirked, resting his palms on my sides, slowly exploring the valley of my butt.

I had no idea I had it in me, but Taeyong helped me discover it. We were basically grinding against each other, and it somehow didn’t feel awkward at all. We were just two people having fun.

“I’m sorry I was so harsh on you,” Taeyong apologized, shouting in my ear. “I’m just stressful all the time, and I think I may sometimes take it out on you,” he added, and I looked at his face, which was dangerously close to mine.

“It’s understandable,” I replied as I wrapped my arms around Taeyong’s neck, finding it much more comfortable. Now with our bodies pressed together, it was easier to have a conversation. “I know how much you want to win this competition. I’ll try harder,” I promised, and Taeyong released a relieved chuckle.

Who would’ve thought an adult conversation would work better than shouting at each other?

“Thank you,” Taeyong spoke genuinely, and I pulled away, staring at his face. His eyes were trained on mine. No matter how many hours we had spent at the dance studio, his gaze still intimidated me sometimes.

“Ekhm, I need a break,” I said in a desperate need to break eye contact with him. The dance floor was crowded, and it was making me dizzy. I was getting dangerously hot, and it seemed like heaven to get back to our booth and finish our drinks.

“Of course, you need a break,” Taeyong teased, sending me a lopsided smirk. “It’s okay, though. We still have plenty of time to work on your stamina,” he added as he grabbed my hand, leading me out of the crowd. Carefully, we zigzagged around drunken people, trying to make it safely to Seulgi.

Unfortunately, by the bar counter, someone walked into Taeyong, almost knocking him down.

“I’m very sorry,” a man shouted, but I could sense the words weren’t genuine.

“Doyoung,” Taeyong spoke, gritting his teeth, staring at the other man. Taeyong’s grip tightened around my hand. I figured he didn’t particularly like Doyoung.

“Taeyong,” Doyoung sighed, checking Taeyong out from head to toe before his gaze shifted to me. There was something spiteful about his lingering eyes, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. For sure, there was some bad blood between two men, and I suddenly felt an urge to know more. Inquisitiveness got the best of me.

Taeyong and Doyoung kept glaring at each other almost as if it was a competition. The tension was so intense one could cut it with a knife. I cleared my throat in a poor attempt to break their stare contest, but they didn’t even acknowledge my presence.

“I saw your last performance,” Doyoung finally spoke, scoffing. “You’re getting out of it, and here I expected to kick your ass in the finale. I wouldn’t be surprised if you and your partner got eliminated next week.”

I thought I had seen Taeyong furious, but right now, I was proven wrong. The way he looked at me whenever I was a handful during our practice was nothing compared to the way he glared at Doyoung. Taeyong was scary, and I decided to not get on his wrong side ever again.

“I’d gladly kick your ass here, but I’d rather wait for the finale. You know what people say about prolonged gratification,” Taeyong talked back, and I gasped, trying to comprehend what I just heard. Taeyong was getting cocky, and it made me nervous. I was already stressed about the possibility of performing, and he just added more pressure on my shoulders.

“We’ll see about that,” Doyoung replied, focusing his scrutinizing gaze on me. “But I have to say I kinda look forward to seeing you cry again. The way I beat you the last time was spectacular.”

“Let’s go, Taeyong. Don’t waste your breath on him. He’s not worth it,” I exclaimed, pulling Taeyong’s hand, reminding him I was there the whole time. I couldn’t listen to Doyoung talk trash about Taeyong. If Taeyong wasn’t going to walk away by himself, I had to intervene and pull him aside. Doyoung was provoking him.

“And who is that?” Doyoung asked in a mocking tone, displeased by the way I looked at him. Though I didn’t know the back story, I took Taeyong’s side. At least, Taeyong didn’t try to humiliate his rival, while Doyoung had already tried a few tricks to tick Taeyong off.

“You’re right,” Taeyong said, looking at me. It was evident he was holding himself back, trying his best not to take the bait. “Let’s go,” he added, pulling me away from Doyoung.

“Who was that?” I asked as we approached our booth. Unfortunately, I didn’t get my response. Upon arrival, we noticed that Seulgi was sprawled on the table, giggling to herself.

“Is she always like this?” I inquired, concerned about how drunk Seulgi got in such a short amount of time. We were gone for thirty minutes tops, and she was barely conscious after drinking her and our drinks.

“Aww… there you are… my dear friends,” she cooed cutely, trying to attack Taeyong with cuddles. She was adorable, but it was kind of irresponsible to drink by herself when we were on the dance floor. Thankfully, nothing happened. We returned just in time to collect her and escort her home.

“I can’t believe my plan worked,” Seulgi grinned, pointing her finger at Taeyong. “You no longer have a stick up your ass,” she exclaimed at Taeyong, too drunk to realize she should be talking to me. “And look at you! You were having fun!” Seulgi yelled, extending her arms to hug me. “I am so proud of you!”

“I should take her home,” Taeyong reasoned, considering it the safest option. He could call an Uber for Seulgi or just phone her fiancée to pick her up but bringing her home himself seemed to be the most rational solution. “Will you be alright by yourself?” He inquired, and I nodded right away. It was sweet of him to look after me too. Thankfully, I barely touched my cocktail; I could get home safely on my own.

“Don’t worry about me,” I replied casually, sending him a reassuring smile. “Just make sure Seulgi makes it home safe,” I added, warming up at the way Taeyong hauled up Seulgi, carefully leading her out of the club. It made me wonder if Johnny did the same to me. Probably. He wouldn’t be that gentle, though. If anything, he’d throw me over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. Or just drag me out like a corpse.

“Give me a call once you get back home,” Taeyong demanded before we parted ways.

***

“You went clubbing without me?” Johnny dramatically asked after I told him everything that happened on the weekend. Despite my detailed narration, it seemed as if that was the only thing he caught on to. “How could you?”

“Relax, dude,” I rolled my eyes, shuffling around my desk, getting ready for work. It was Monday morning – it was about time we start our gossip routine.

“And I was wondering… would you mind helping me researching this shady dude? There’s some conflict between him and Taeyong. And I need to know what happened,” I started, wondering if Johnny would cooperate with me and put his stalking abilities to good use.

I was too embarrassed to ask Taeyong about Doyoung. Besides, I had a hunch he would either brush me off or scold me.

“Do you know anything about this dude besides his name?” Johnny pulled out his phone, no questions asked. “Please, don’t tell me that’s the only thing you know.”

“I mean… he’s probably a dancer,” I added with a sheepish smile, making Johnny heave a deep sigh. “He must be a big deal, though. Apparently, Taeyong lost a competition to him.”

“I’ll try to find some dirt, but it may be difficult given how little info you gave me,” Johnny declared as he began his thorough research.

It took Johnny five minutes to find the correct Doyoung. It was remarkable. If it wasn’t enough for the FBI to hire him, I’d gladly present them a recommendation letter. Quickly, I opened Doyoung’s profile on my phone, scrolling through his feed.

At first glance, Doyoung seemed to be a regular bratty internet star with an overgrown ego. His follower count was impressive. Studying his profile, I learned a lot about him. Unfortunately, it had no value. There was nothing specific about his conflict with Taeyong.

“How was your date with Wendy?” I asked Johnny as I gave up on my research. Whatever was the root of their bad blood would have to remain a mystery.

“It was fine,” Johnny started, but I could tell he wasn’t entirely honest. His disappointed tone betrayed him. “She left before the waiter brought the dessert. Apparently, she didn’t particularly like when I kept calling her Wanda.”

“Ouch.”

“No hard feelings, though,” Johnny shrugged it off, trying to focus on the positive aspect of their terrible date. “At least, I’ve had two slices of cheesecake. Besides, I’m kind of into Sooyoung from the creative team now. I think she is the one.”

“Every girl you’re into is the one,” I interjected, rolling my eyes, done with his antics.

“Oh, by the way, I’ve forgotten,” Johnny chimed in, staring at me in excitement. “Taeil asked me about you,” he revealed, and I almost spat out my morning coffee.

“What?”

“Are you still into him, though?” Johnny inquired, rubbing his temple in deep thought. “I haven’t heard you gush about him these days,” he pinpointed, and I wondered if my crush on Taeil was still as intense as it was a few months ago.

Taeil was insanely hot. I kept drooling whenever I saw him operate the printer. It was inappropriate to check him out whenever he bent down to change the ink, but I couldn’t help myself. Or whenever we met by the vending machine.

Good old times.

Right now, though, I rarely caught myself thinking about him. At first, I thought it was due to a hectic schedule. I was either at work or at the dance studio or getting shit-faced with Johnny on another wild adventure with him and his friends.

It was difficult to comprehend how easily my crush faded into thin air. Taeil was still sexy as fuck, but while I appreciate his looks, I wasn’t daydreaming how to get into his pants. At this point, I was just admiring his attributes in the most nonsexual way imaginable.

Apparently, the lack of response on my part was everything Johnny needed to confirm his suspicion.

“So what? Are you into Taeyong now?” Johnny asked boldly, and now, I actually choked on my coffee, thinking I heard him wrong. How did he jump to that conclusion?

“What?”

“Don’t get me wrong, but it kinda looks like you’re into him,” Johnny commented, playing with a pen. “You talk about him all the time with lots of passion. I think there’s something going on between you two. Is he single?”

“I talk about him all the time because I live to complain, and recently he’s the sole reason why I gotta vent,” I defended, but Johnny didn’t seem convinced. “And I don’t know if he’s single. I don’t really care,” quickly, I rejected all accusations, but in all honesty, his words got me wondering.

Was I attracted to Taeyong?

Surely, Taeyong was ridiculously attractive. He danced well, too. Unfortunately, we didn’t click much. There was passion between us, but it wasn’t romantically stemmed. We just kept annoying each other. I wouldn’t consider it sexual. We were just getting on each other’s nerves often, unable to properly solve our differences.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey,” Johnny teased, and I fought the urge to throw the stapler at him. “I bet fifty bucks you’ve imagined him naked, fucking you dumb.”

What the fuck, John???

I did not imagine Taeyong naked!

Not until now, at least.

“I seriously hate you right now,” I complained, deciding it’s about time I focus on work.

***

After Johnny had planted naughty thoughts in my mind, each dance practice was unbearable. My mind was running wild, coming up with different scenarios involving Taeyong and me in intimate situations. It was wrong on so many levels, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

After months of practicing the dance routine, we decided it would be best to make some changes to the choreography. Though it was still sensual as hell, with our hands roaming each other’s bodies, we found it crucial to accentuate Taeyong’s talents.

It was a strategic plan. While typically male dancers helped the female dancers shine, we put a little twist to it. Though our performance was still pretty balanced, Taeyong had a few crucial parts of choreography, in which he would snatch everybody’s hearts.

Seulgi didn’t object to our strategy. Well… she was never there, to begin with. Seulgi was a ghost, never present during our practice, always busy doing some last-minute wedding prep.

“Let’s take a five,” Taeyong hollered as he turned off the music, sending us off to a short break. It sounded weird when it came out of his mouth, but I didn’t complain. We’ve been practicing nonstop for the past hour. At this point, I was panting.

Lying down onto the floor, I rested my head on my towel, reaching for my phone. Quickly, I unlocked it to see a series of notifications from Johnny. He had sent me a link to a video, telling me in all caps to watch it.

Having left the earphones in the locker room, I played the video quietly through my phone’s speaker. It was a short film with Doyoung. It must’ve been his performance from last year’s competition. Jamming to the music, I studied his moves.

Doyoung was really good. I mean… it wasn’t professional expertise, but I could tell he had talent. His body control was impeccable, his hip thrusts must’ve impregnated plenty of women in the audience, but his shoulder rolls were just otherworldly. Along with the female dancer, they showcased quite the performance. From the beginning to the very end, I couldn’t look away, failing to notice Taeyong approach me.

“What the hell are you doing?” Taeyong shouted, tearing my phone from my hand, double-checking what I was watching. “Why are you watching this?” He angrily asked, locking the device, wishing for it to stop playing music.

It was difficult to explain.

I couldn’t exactly tell Taeyong that I asked my best friend to do research on Doyoung in hopes of finding out what was the root of their conflict. Though we had never found anything substantial, Johnny would send me more footage to check out. However, regardless of how much stuff Johnny had provided me with, I was still clueless.

“Why are you shouting at me?” I spoke, biting on my bottom lip. I was in big trouble, so it was only logical to play dumb.

Taeyong stared down at me, demanding a genuine answer. His jaw was tensed, his knuckles around my phone turned white. It was just a meaningless clip, but it got him fuming at me. Regardless of what I’d tell him, he wouldn’t like the answer. I figured this much.

“Why were you watching that?” Taeyong yelled, raising his hand, almost smashing my phone against the floor. Thankfully, he held back and gently put it on my bag.

It was incredible how much the video affected Taeyong. The movie worked on Taeyong like a red rag to a bull. One moment he seemed fine, but once he figured out what I was watching, he snapped.

“You really want to know?” I challenged as I rose to my feet, staring at him. It was my turn to raise my voice. If he kept shouting at me, I was going to give him the same treatment. “Ever since that night at the club, I was curious. You were basically throwing daggers at each other, and I really wanted to know what happened between you two. You never bothered to explain it, and I didn’t want to push you.”

“Do you have your answers now?” Taeyong exclaimed, and I rolled my eyes, agitating him even more with my fed-up behavior. He was scary right now, but I refused to let him intimidate me. “Or do you want to read my diary too?!”

I resisted the temptation of saying yes to his offering. Taeyong wasn’t the type of person to write a dairy. He was exaggerating, but I didn’t want to provoke him further. At any mention of Doyoung’s name, wrath took control over Taeyong, turning him into his destructive self.

“If it makes you feel any better, I know shit about him,” I confessed, throwing my hands in the air. “I wanted to know what he did to you, but I came up with nothing. And believe it or not, the way he treated you that night made me worry. You’re my dance partner, and I care about you a lot, and it really hurt me seeing you in distress,” I spat, not thinking about consequences. I was talking without filter, probably spilling too much information.

My verbal diarrhea confused Taeyong. His huge eyes were staring at me in astonishment. He was studying my expression, wondering if everything I said was true. Oh, no! My reckless words made him uncomfortable. He must’ve grown to hate now.

In embarrassment, I looked down at my shoes. I felt terrible, and I needed to come up with something clever to say to save my dignity and ease the tension. However, before I managed to voice my sincere apology, I felt Taeyong’s hands cup my cheeks as he surged forward and kissed my breath away. It was sudden, but I reciprocated the kiss in an instant.

Stress, anxiety, anger, sexual frustration, and probably many other factors led us to this very moment. I had been daydreaming about Taeyong’s mouth on mine for a while now. And when it finally happened, I eagerly swept my tongue across his lips, deepening the kiss. Though I had tried my best to withstand the tension between us, I wasn’t oblivious to it.

Taeyong already knew almost every inch of my body, so his hands naturally began roaming across my skin. Moaning into the kiss, he held me closer, keeping me pressed against him.

“Taeyong,” I breathed out as I pulled away, only for Taeyong to smash his lips against mine again, successfully shushing me. This time around, the kiss was even more passionate, making my knees weak. In a rush, Taeyong pushed me against the wall, pushing his thigh between my legs. “We shouldn’t,” I spoke, but my tone wasn’t convincing at all. I wasn’t even sure who I was trying to convince that it was a bad idea.

“Shut up,” Taeyong demanded as he tilted his face, sucking on my bottom lip. His hands were on my butt, kneading my flesh, trying to make me moan into his mouth. In all honesty, it worked. Maybe, I whimpered incoherent sounds, but it’s was just a poor attempt to encourage him to keep kissing me.

Regardless of how much he was to gift me, I needed more. I wasn’t going to stop until I’d take everything Taeyong was willing to give.

I craned my neck to the side, and Taeyong quickly caught on, leaving a wet trail down my neck. His lips were delicate, careful not to leave a mark, while his hips were grinding against me, letting me feel how stiff he already was.

“Legs,” Taeyong ordered, gently slapping my thigh. Obediently, I spread my legs apart, letting his hand cup my sex. It was ridiculous how horny he was making me. Once his raspy voice echoed in my ears, I fulfilled his wish, waiting for another command in excitement.

“Please,” I begged, needing more of him. Whatever he planned on doing to me, I needed it now. Whether he was to tease me with his beautiful fingers or fuck me raw with his cock, he better do it now.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he whispered against my skin, pressing feather-like kisses along my collarbone. His touch was driving me insane. His hands were everywhere but where I wanted them the most. This type of teasing should be illegal.

It was more than I could take, so I took matters into my own hands. I could play this game, too. With a mischievous smirk upon my face, I hooked my forefinger under the band of his tracksuit bottoms. Unfortunately, Taeyong quickly swept my hand away.

“You’re such a bad girl,” Taeyong commented before he captured my lips again, sliding his tongue into my mouth, knowing I’d talk back to him. “You have to do everything your way. Would it kill you if you listened to me at least once?” Taeyong muttered, staring into my eyes.

Yes, I was a brat. Taeyong wanted me to submit to him, and I would do it eventually, but not before I’d tease him first. What was fun in that?

“Don’t answer that,” he added, and I rolled my eyes. Though we barely hung out outside the dance studio, Taeyong learned a lot about me. Having an answer to everything was one of those things he had the pleasure of discovering.

“Just fuck me, please,” I said nicely, staring into his eyes, hoping it would be enough to make him cave. “I can’t take it any longer,” I added, rubbing my loins against his restrained cock, making him let out a guttural moan.

My plan was working. Slowly, Taeyong was giving in, probably taking his time to think about the consequences of letting me experience instant gratification. Orgasm would’ve been sweeter if he made me wait a bit more, but it was difficult for him to control his urges.

Without any doubt, Taeyong wanted to bury his cock inside of me as much as I wanted him to fuck me dumb. We withstood so many practices without jumping at each other – I should consider it foreplay.

“Fine, but I’m gonna eat you out first,” Taeyong spoke, and I almost lost it by just imagining his jaw going between my thighs. Swiftly, he knelt in front of me, pulling my leggings down to my ankles in one fluid motion. Having kicked off my gym shoes, I wiggled the fabric off my feet, sending it flying across the dance studio.

Taeyong ran his fingers across my panties, inspecting how soaked they already were. With a smirk upon Taeyong’s face, he pressed a chaste kiss against my skin above the waistband before he yanked the undergarment down.

“Beautiful,” he said under his breath before he surged his face, taking my clit between his gorgeous lips, making me tilt my head in pleasure. Frustration got me sensitive. Even the slightest touch got me purring in delight.

Taeyong licked and nipped at my entrance, and I run my hands through his hair, encouraging him to keep going. He flicked his tongue, and I buckled my hips, wanting more.

“I need your fingers,” I pleaded, looking down at him. Taeyong looked breathtaking, with my juices were dripping down his sharp jaw, with his lips turned into a satisfied smirk. He was proud of how he was making me feel. His glistening skin was the very evidence of his skillful moves. “Taeyong, please, I am so close.”

Though I didn’t expect him to, Taeyong listened to my humble request. His middle finger slid right it, making me purr in satisfaction. I could finally feel him inside of me, and it was heavenly. His palm moved quickly, working me up.

The first orgasm was building up. Taeyong was fucking me now with two fingers while his mouth was fiddling with my clit. If it wasn’t for Taeyong’s palm, holding me still, I’d buckle right into his face for more friction.

“I’m about to come,” I declared, shutting my eyes close. As tempting as it was to peek at the mirror on the other wall and check out the view of Taeyong eating me out, it was more than I could take. My instinct to squeeze my eyes shut and welcome the orgasm was too much.

Unfortunately, it didn’t happen.

Before tiny tingles of electricity could unite and explode, shooting through me like a lightning strike, Taeyong pulled away, denying me of my orgasm. It physically hurt when instead of a blissful peak, I felt nothing.

“What the fuck?” I barked angrily, ready to pull him by his hair against my sex and press him against me, so he could finish the job.

“We’re coming together, or we’re not coming at all,” Taeyong sternly replied, standing up. His lips were swollen from all the work he was doing, and they looked even more kissable.

“I’ve never pegged you for such a teaser,” I stated matter-of-factly, still a little bit butt-hurt over the way how smug he was about not letting me come first. Maybe I was a handful most of the time, but I didn’t do anything wrong to deserve such treatment.

“I’m not,” Taeyong chimed in, biting down on his lip. “There’s just something about you that makes me want to punish for your misbehavior,” he explained, and I got it where it came from. I wasn’t the best student he could work with. “Isn’t it the sweetest torture?” Taeyong challenged before he surged forward, smashing his lips against mine again, raising my thigh and giving it a gentle rub.

“Please, Taeyong, I need you inside of me,” I begged as I ground my sex against his rock-hard cock. I couldn’t comprehend how self-disciplined and patient he was; his budge was throbbing underneath his pants. It must’ve been painful for him, and he did all of that to teach me a lesson. “Fuck me, already.”

“Relax, sweetheart. I got you,” he softly spoke as he hoisted me up, pressing me tightly against the wall. “To be honest, I expected you to lose it sooner,” Taeyong added, and I hoped he was talking about my sanity. I endured more than enough; his teasing was too much.

“How should I fuck you?” Taeyong asked, looking around the practice room, seeking a perfect spot to stuff his cock inside of me. We didn’t have a lot of options, but I didn’t care. He could fuck me in the middle of the room, and I’d eagerly spread my legs for him. “Screw it,” he cursed, gently lowering me down onto the floor. “Do you mind?” Taeyong inquired, and I shook my head as I wrapped my legs around his hips, pressing him against me.

“Strip,” I ordered, and Taeyong smirked before he pulled his T-shirt over his head, revealing his lean physique. My eyes marveled at his beautiful shoulders and toned muscles. I had touched him more than I could count, but I never saw him bare, and when I finally did, I gawked.

“What about you, sweetheart? Come on, I am waiting,” Taeyong teased, and I took off my T-shirt. I was only in my sports bra, and Taeyong bit his lip, staring down at me, admiring my simple beauty. With no further comment, Taeyong leaned in, attacking my collarbone. It was hot how attentive he was, but right now, all I needed was his cock buried deep down my cunt.

Desperately, I reached to his sweatpants, palming his erection through the fabric. As soon as I touched him, Taeyong released a needy growl, rolling his hips into my hand, finally giving in to the pleasure. He lost his self-restraint, and now, he seriously needed to fill me up with his throbbing length.

“Take them off,” I breathed out, pulling by the hem of his pants. With a lowered head, Taeyong tsked before he yanked them down to his knees, wriggling out of them. Just as I expected, his cock urgently entailed my attention.

Though the thought of blowing him crossed my mind, I eventually decided not to entertain this idea too much. It was apparent Taeyong wanted to him inside of my pussy. I’d suck him dry on a different occasion. Hopefully, it would happen soon.

“Fuck me, Taeyong,” I moaned as I trembled when the tip of his cock brushed against my folds. I was embarrassingly sensitive after his ministrations, and he dared to tease me again. “Please,” I begged as I gave his length a few gentle strokes, aligning it with my entrance.

“Aaahh…” Taeyong growled, slowly pushing his dick inside of me. Inch by inch, he filled me up, stretching my walls. A lot of different sinful noises came out of his mouth as he began steadily thrusting his hips.

Taeyong’s stamina was no joke. It was hard to believe how long he could snap his hips without messing up his rhythm. His low voice mixed with my desperate moans echoed inside the room, creating a wicked symphony along with the sound of our sweaty bodies smashing against each other.

He was fucking me hard, and I was in seventh heaven. Taeyong was filling me up so good; I could come undone on his cock anytime.

“Taeyong,” I moaned his name as I watched him fuck me. Though it was hot to look at his cock disappear in my pussy, it was even sweeter to stare in the mirror. With my head turned to the side, I studied the whole picture how Taeyong was fucking me.

“I am coming,” I screamed as I felt the bliss approach. Taeyong was panting, struggling to maintain his tempo with the way my walls tightened around his sensitive cock. Once he hit my sweet spot, I was a goner. After a few thrusts, I came, digging my nails in his back.

“Fuck,” Taeyong cursed, shouting my name as he shot his load inside of me, collapsing on top of me. We were a breathless mess, our bodies sticking together, but neither of us minded. At this point, we were too spent to care. “You were incredible,” Taeyong whispered as he pulled out, rolling to the side.

“You weren’t that bad yourself,” I panted, giggling, still recovering from the mind-blowing orgasm. Thankfully, Taeyong didn’t pay much attention to my playful jab. “I meant it what I said,” I added, turning around to look at him.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Taeyong started, staring into my eyes, showing me his sincerity. “I just can’t help myself but get angry when I see him or hear about him,” he continued, and I nodded my head, letting him know I was willing to listen.

I didn’t expect that Taeyong would agree to vent to me, but when he did, I patiently heard him out. After all, I was pretty sure we were at least friends now.

“It all happened about a year ago. We were competing in the same contest, and he made my dance partner quit. Doyoung seduced her, toyed with her, and once the trophy was his, he dumped her. Because of him, I was disqualified, and she quit dance altogether.”

Listen to his story made me both sad and angry. Doyoung had been a dick to interfere like that – he must’ve known he hadn’t stood a chance against them in a fair fight. My blood was boiling in my veins as I put all the pieces together.

Sadness took over next. The way Doyoung had manipulated Taeyong’s dance partner was upsetting. The wound had been cut so deep, she couldn’t have forced herself to keep going. Doyoung had wrecked two lives, and it made my blood boil, too.

“We’re gonna beat him. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we do,” I spoke, reassuring him. It was impossible to tend the wounds, but the least I could do is help Taeyong win. For what he had done, Doyoung deserved punishment. If I were Taeyong, I’d not hesitate to beat him up.

“I hope so,” Taeyong muttered, reaching for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s still fine if we don’t. I’m pretty sure karma will get to him eventually,” he added with a sigh.

“I’ll work harder,” I declared, feeling an extra wave of determination wash through me. “I’ll try my best,” I said, and Taeyong smiled fondly, content to hear me say it.

“Thanks. It means a lot to me.”

For a while, we were staring at each other. It felt nice and somehow more intimate than all the fucking we had done. If we were in bed, I could do it all night. Unfortunately, we were still lying on the uncomfortable floor.

“Let’s get washed up before we get too sappy,” I added, trying to ease the tension. I really enjoyed it, but it was getting a little too much.

“I hope you don’t mind sharing the shower with me. You know… water bills are a bitch,” Taeyong spoke, and I giggled at his bullshit excuse, finding it incredibly cute, considering what we had been doing a few minutes ago.

“Of course they are,” I deadpanned, chuckling. Though his excuse was lame, I liked Taeyong enough to go with it. “Come on. Let’s go. I don��t want anyone to catch me naked.”

***

After that one time at the dance studio, Taeyong and I made it a regular thing. However, we kept it civilized. We wouldn’t jump each other’s bones in the open like animals like we had done the first time. Usually, we would go on small kind-of-dates, which consisted of picking up food, going to my or his place, and then rolling in the sheets.

We were having lots of fun. It was a perfect way to de-stress. After all, the finale was this Saturday, and we were nervous as hell. In all honesty, I was still scared, but these orgasms were numbing my anxiety.

“I think that’s it,” Taeyong spoke, and I smiled brightly, unable to contain my joy. It was the first time Taeyong ever approved of our performance. Most of the time, he was nitpicking, complaining about the slightest mistake, but finally, he was satisfied with it.

I was ecstatic; I never expected to live up to Taeyong’s approval. Through hard work and persistence, I managed to earn his eulogy.

“What should we do now? How about we order some food?” I asked, feeling in a celebratory mood. Maybe it was a little bit too early to drink to this small success, but it’s still worth a shot.

“We should do it again. We should dance it flawlessly at least a couple of hundred consecutive times before celebrating,” Taeyong seriously replied, and I rolled my eyes. Despite his painstaking nature, a couple of hundred times, it was a bit too much. Even for him. “Don’t give me that look. Let’s start again; five, six, seven, eight.”

Though usually, I’d complain and try to force him into a five-minute break, right now, I was oddly energized. We were dancing for the past two hours, and I was panting out of exhaustion. Nevertheless, the thoughts of finally mastering the choreography kept me going.

“I’m pretty good at this,” I confidently commented while roaming my hands across Taeyong’s shoulders before he twirled me around to the rhythm. I could tell that Taeyong was just waiting for an excuse to pause the music and scold me for making a mistake. However, much to his dismay, I executed every move impeccably. “I had a pretty good teacher,” I added, stroking his ego. The D-day was approaching, and Taeyong obviously needed an extra boost of confidence.

“I must admit you were a piece of work. I have no idea what kind of sorcery is this,” Taeyong teased, staring into my eyes. We had practiced the routine plenty of times; we could probably perform it in blindfolds and not make a single mistake. “I must be a magician or something.”

“Don’t push it,” I warned him in a very non-threatening tone, making him smirk. “But it’s only partially your success. Seulgi told me I have the it™ factor,” I proudly said, cracking Taeyong up, messing the choreography. “Is it a student-has-become-the-master kind of moment?” I asked, laughing at Taeyong. For the dance prodigy, he was getting distracted way too easily. It was suspicious.

With a broad smile upon his face, Taeyong grabbed my wrists, making me look at him.

“How about we finish up for today? I have a surprise for you,” Taeyong said, and I cocked my eyebrows, biting my bottom lip. “Not that kind of surprise,” he added, rolling his eyes at me. “We might get it on later, though.”

“What kind of surprise then?”

“Wait a second,” Taeyong spoke, quickly jogging out of the practice room. In a minute, he was back with a garment bag in his hands. “Here, that’s for you. Seulgi came in the morning to drop it off for you,” he explained, and I pulled down the zipper. It was going to be my costume for the contest, and I was curious how it looked.

I was speechless. At first, I thought it was a joke. I wouldn’t be able to perform in that. However, the more I looked at it, the more sense it made. It was a simple white suit shirt, but when mixed with a leather body harness, high-waisted shorts, and boots, it fitted the concept beautifully.

“Do you like it? I thought it was too revealing, but Seulgi insisted you would look amazing in it. I mean… it fits the mood, but if you’re not comfortable with it, we still have some time to find something else,” Taeyong blabbered, and my heart swelled. It was very sweet of him to consider my comfort above anything else.

“It’s skimpy, but it’s fine. I like it,” I replied, having no idea where my confidence was coming from. A few months ago, I’d be anxious to even try it on in the confines of my bedroom. However, now I was planning on showing a lot of skin on national television during prime hours on the weekend. I must’ve gone insane.

“Do you want to try it on?” Taeyong challenged, pulling the hangers out of the bag.

“You mean… here?!”

“Come on, it wouldn’t be the first time you took off your clothes in the middle of the practice room,” Taeyong concluded, smiling at me mischievously.

“Pass,” I firmly rejected his dare, even though it felt tempting. “It’s not fun when I’m doing it alone,” I added, and Taeyong grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, more than ready to discard his clothes in a blink of an eye. “Don’t fool around,” I warned him, placing my hand over his before he managed to take his T-shirt off.

“You’re right. Let’s go to my place first,” Taeyong agreed, zipping the bag before he grabbed my hand, leading me out of the practice room.

***

On the day of the performance, I woke up with a terrible stomach ache. No matter how much fantastic sex Taeyong and I had, I was not mentally prepared to perform in front of the whole nation. I felt sick, almost as if my body was telling me to quit before I’d embarrass myself on national television. Stress was eating me from the inside.

“What are you doing up so early? Let’s go back to bed,” Taeyong purred in his raspy morning voice as he sneaked his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. “You need to be rested before the performance. Trust me, you don’t want a camera to catch you yawning,” he added, nuzzling his nose in the crook of my neck, breathing hot air against my skin.

“Thanks for giving me one more thing to stress about,” I deadpanned, heaving a deep sigh, staring at the ceiling. It was a mistake. I should have never agreed to Seulgi’s proposition in the first place. What the hell was I thinking? “I think it’s a bad idea. We should quit.”

Taeyong wasn’t in the mood for my nagging so early in the morning; he was having none of it. “You’re being ridiculous. We’ve practiced so much. We’re gonna win it with ease,” he declared, pressing a featherlike kiss against my jaw. “But for real,” he added, climbing on top of me, trapping me between his thighs, “we’re going to win. And even if we don’t, it’s fine. Really, if somehow we lose to Doyoung and his partner, I’ll just punch him backstage.”

“How can you say that?” I said with a sigh, running my hands across his thighs, finding it rather calming. “I know you said we should rest, but how about…” I trailed, and Taeyong smiled before eagerly capturing my lips, reading me like an open book.

“Say no more,” Taeyong whispered before his hands traveled under my shirt.

Unfortunately, Taeyong’s phone started buzzing on the nightstand before he managed to pull my panties down. With a groan, he extended his arm, staring at the screen.

“It’s Seulgi.”

“What are you waiting for? It’s her wedding day. Pick it up,” I yelled at him as I fell on the pillow, admiring his handsome face when he was talking to Seulgi.

“Please, not you, too,” he barked, rubbing his face in annoyance. Though I barely could make out what she was saying, I figured this much Seulgi and I were suffering from the same stress-fuelled illness. It was her wedding day, after all. Even if it was obvious she loved Irene with a burning passion, she wasn’t immune to pre-wedding anxiety.

Seulgi was talking her stress away, and Taeyong just hummed and nodded his head, registering her words. For some reason, the pressure didn’t seem to bother Taeyong at all. It was weird, but at least he was the voice of reason, which could help me and Seulgi cope.

“Breath in, breath out,” Taeyong spoke when Seulgi made a pause long enough for him to interject. “I know it’s a big deal, but there’s nothing to worry about. You’re getting married to Irene. You love her so much,” Taeyong reminded her, winking at me, expecting Seulgi to end the call soon. “Everybody’s a little nervous; it’s completely normal.”

It was beautiful how close Taeyong and Seulgi were. They had each other’s backs in all types of situations.

About ten minutes later, Seulgi finally calmed down. Taeyong’s reassuring words swept the anxiety away, and she was more than ready to get married to the love of her life.

Once Seulgi hung up, Taeyong threw his phone on the bed and secured my legs around his hips before he leaned forward, giving me a quick kiss. “Seulgi says hi, by the way,” he added, sneaking his hand under the hem of my panties.

“What?”

“What do you mean what?” Taeyong looked down at me, creasing his eyebrows in confusion.

“She knows?” I yelled, unable to comprehend how, on Earth, Seulgi figured out I was in Taeyong’s bed. She couldn’t know. She wasn’t even there when our romance bloomed. “How?”

“Yeah, is it a bad thing, though? You didn’t want to fuck me in secret, did you?” Taeyong challenged, not really answering my inquiry. Did Seulgi figure it out on her own? Or did Taeyong told her about us? And, the biggest question mark was: what were we to begin with? “Seulgi must have some sort of sixth sense. She was bothering me about the sexual tension between us since day one of your training.”

“I wouldn’t call it sexual tension per se, but there was something going on,” I replied, reminiscing how rocky our beginning was. “But I think we were interrupted…” I reminded him, and Taeyong with a playful smirk on his face dived right between my thighs.

***

The streaming should begin at 8 p.m., but we had to arrive before 5 p.m., so the make-up artists and stylists could prepare us for the performance. Sitting in that chair and waiting for all pampering to be over with was stressful as fuck. I tried to preoccupy myself with an idea of Taeyong, but whenever someone threw a question in my direction, I was being pulled out of my train of happy thoughts.

I wanted to get on the stage and be done with it. Unfortunately, whoever funded that contest didn’t think of the mental health of its participants when making today’s schedule.

Punctually, the show began its transmission at 8 o’clock. However, at the very beginning, the MC had to introduce all sponsors. Going through them took him about twenty minutes. Then, they interviewed some of the eliminated dancers, asking them questions either about their experience in the competition or simply who they thought would win.

Later, they decided to rewind the contestants’ moments in the show. At first, they showed Doyoung and his partner, and a few experts analyzed their performance, wondering what the odds of them winning were.

When the host announced the rewind of Taeyong’s and Seulgi’s stages, the jury only talked about the sudden switch up, confirming it was the first time it ever happened in the grand finale. It startled a lot of people why would Seulgi drop out, but Taeyong explained it in a brief interview.

“It was a crazy coincidence, but Seulgi couldn’t participate today because she is getting married today,” Taeyong revealed, and the audience cooed loudly, obviously supporting her choice. “I was stressed at first, but Seulgi found an amazing dancer to take her spot. She really chose well,” he added, and I looked at him, trying not to cry in front of everyone.

It was almost impossible to fish out a compliment from Taeyong during practice, but right now, he did it on his own accord, melting my heart with his words.

“Everybody is dying to know more about your partner,” the MC started, shifting his attention to me. I didn’t particularly like to be put in the spotlight, but before I managed to spit some nonsense, Taeyong butt in, rescuing the day.

“Although she doesn’t have much experience in dance competitions, I think she’s a great dancer. To think of it, she is my secret weapon,” Taeyong added, and I almost ran into his arms, feeling too overwhelmed by his speech.

“Alright then, let’s see what you got after a short commercial break,” the MC cheerfully announced before I bolted out of the stage as I felt the stress crept into my head.

“Calm down,” Taeyong softly spoke as he approached me, holding my hand, drawing circles with his thumb. “You’ve got this. Just focus on me,” he added, flashing me a reassuring smile before kissing my knuckles.

“Awww… isn’t it adorable?” Someone snickered, and I didn’t need to turn my head around to know it was Doyoung. He was like a venomous snake, trying to sneak into our subconscious and make us even more anxious. It couldn’t be fair play.

“Buzz off,” I barked as I didn’t want to let him tick Taeyong off. Taeyong was my safety pin, and I didn’t want him to go full rage on Doyoung. Their backstage battle would make it to the news, but I’d rather prevent it from happening.

“With Seulgi on your arm, I was giving you a five percent chance of winning,” Doyoung started, ignoring my warning. “Now, when she’s gone, I won’t even have fun beating you on the stage,” he added, and I almost surged forward to punch him. If it wasn’t for Taeyong, who held me in my place, I’d definitely rearranged Doyoung’s face.

“Don’t let him get into your head,” Taeyong whispered into my ear, and I nodded my head, sighing. Then, it struck me. Doyoung’s motive wasn’t to mess with Taeyong but with me. He knew I was the weakest link, and he wanted to guarantee his victory by making me doubt myself. His words rung in my head, but one look at Taeyong helped me relax. We had practiced it a thousand times; there was not a chance I would make a mistake.

“Come on. Let’s go. They’re calling us out,” Taeyong mused, pulling me towards the stage.

The silence filled the auditorium when we got on the stage, taking our respective places. I stole a glance at Taeyong – he was mouthing words of encouragement seconds before the MC announced our performance.

I can hear it callin'

Loving the way you wanna talk

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

Callin', something in the way you wanna talk

On two sides of the stage, we moved to the rhythm, telling the story of two strangers lusting over each other from afar. With hunger in our eyes, we tried to seduce each other with sharp movements, showcasing our attributes.

You got me sayin', you got me sayin'

How you doing? Tell me what's your name (Ey, tell me what's your name?)

What's your sign? Feeling like you are into me

Taeyong ran up to me like a man enchanted by the siren’s voice, rolling his body against mine. It was his moment to shine; everybody’s eyes were on him as he owned the stage with his overflowing charisma.

Baby, we're two distant strangers

I know you don't speak my language

But I love the way she's talking to me (Talking to me)

I can hear it callin' from where you are

Loving the way you wanna talk

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

It was a classic game of cat and mouse. Though our bodies were so close to each other, we moved in perfect synchronization, careful not to brush against each other. The chemistry between us was undeniable, and the feeling of yearning was visible from the very last row.

Max, max, max, we can have it all (To the max)

If you back, back, back, back, back it up (Back it, back it)I'll take you where you wanna, got the gas in the tank (Wow)

If you really wanna make it last (Git, git, git)

Finally, as the song slowly progressed to the end, we were showing intense frustration. We were portraying two individuals, yearning for intimate contact, who were hastily losing their minds over uncontrollable passion.

I can hear it callin' from where you are (Callin', woo)

Loving the way you wanna talk (Love the way you talk)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up (Yeah, yeah)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

The song was to end soon. The last chorus rolled in – it was our cue. After all teasing, we finally made the connection, ready to combust out of raw craze. After three minutes of painful longing, we were to reach completion.

I can hear it callin' from where you are (Callin', woo)

Loving the way you wanna talk (Love the way you talk)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up (Yeah, yeah)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

It was all or nothing. We were finally together, touching each other with fervor. The audience was eating our performance up – particularly when Taeyong showcased his flexibility and body control.

Tell me how you like it babe (How you)

I don't even know your name (How you, ey)

I love the way you're talking to me

It was finally time to finish our performance with a bang; we needed to show something spectacular, something Doyoung wouldn’t ever think about. As the singer began the last verse, it was my cue to run into Taeyong’s embrace. The second the last syllable rolled of the singer’s tongue, Taeyong caught me in his arms, and the lights went out to add a dramatic twist to our performance.

For a while, the audience was silent. However, a few seconds later, they roared in excitement, clapping loudly, showing how much they enjoyed our stage.

The MC was congratulating us, but I was too thrilled to register his words. I still couldn’t believe I performed on national television and didn’t trip and smash my face.

I had no idea how I found myself backstage, but there was a high chance Taeyong led me off the stage. I was too overwhelmed to do it on my own.

I even forgot that Johnny, together with Yeri – the love of his week, had backstage passes. I only remembered that when he wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug, congratulating me.

“You gotta quit that office job and start dancing professionally,” Johnny ordered, and I smiled, glad that he enjoyed my performance. “We both gotta quit. You’ll be dancing, and I’ll be a badass FBI agent.”

“You two were great,” Yeri politely said when Johnny let me go. “Thank you so much for letting me backstage.”

“No problem,” Taeyong replied as he grabbed my shaking hands. “Are you okay?” He asked, cupping my face, making me look at him. “You rocked the stage,” he added before he leaned forward to peck my lips.

Ignoring Johnny’s perplexed expression, I wrapped my arms around Taeyong in a comfortable hug. I hadn’t suitably introduced Johnny to the concept of me dating Taeyong, but hopefully, our interaction got the message across.

Emotions were slowly fading away, but I still needed Taeyong’s support. I was a rookie, and I had no experience with this type of stress. Something was calming about Taeyong’s aura; I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly, but I wasn’t going to question it.

“Anticipation is killing me,” I muttered against his skin. “Can he already go on that fucking stage?” I yelled, wondering why Doyoung’s performance didn’t start yet. I knew the MC was building up tension, but it was too much for me to handle.

“We could always skip,” Taeyong casually spoke, and I pulled away to look at him. What the hell was he talking about? I hadn’t agreed to help him out, so we didn’t wait until the end. “If we lose, we lose. If we win, your friend can accept the prize, can’t he?”

“Are you insane?”

“Maybe a little bit,” he answered with a bright smile, brushing stray hair off my forehead. “I just want to know the result already so we can go to Seulgi’s wedding and congratulate them,” he added, and I nodded my head. Though we couldn’t participate during the ceremony, the least we could do was to show up ridiculously late to the reception.

“Can they hurry the fuck up now?” I craned my neck, trying to find Doyoung and his partner. They were arguing about something right behind the curtain. Everything seemed they weren’t in the right headspace.

“I don’t think I want to see their performance,” Taeyong whispered, tightening his grasp on my waist. “How about a quickie in the dressing room? What do you say?” He proposed, and I smacked him, telling him to behave. It was tempting, but we really shouldn’t. I wouldn’t walk up that stage with messed-up post-sex hair.

“Get a grip,” I added, gently elbowing him. “Let’s just hit the snack table. I am hungry,” I spoke, pulling him away when the MC invited Doyoung and his dance partner onto the stage.

While munching on snacks, we stared at each other fondly. In some weird way, we were helping each other cope with anticipation and stress. Though it was tempting to check out their performance, we decided it was for the better if we didn’t.

They performed to “Hips Don’t Lie,” and it was almost impossible to turn my head around to check out Doyoung’s sick moves. Having considered all the videos I had seen of him, I was sure he looked gorgeous.

“What about a little peek?” Taeyong questioned, unable to control his urge to see his rival’s performance. “I thought I could endure it, but I can’t,” he added, and I nodded, giving in. Instantly, we ran to the nearest screen to watch their stage.

It was everything I imagined. Their moves were executed with precision and grace, but entertainment-wise, I was bored. They had the skills, but something about the general concept didn’t fulfill my expectations.

No matter how great of a dancer Doyoung was, he just could not pull this song off as the original artist did. Regardless of how hard he swayed his hips, it just didn’t live up to its potential. Though I wasn’t educated enough to give an honest review, it felt meh.

The audience in the studio whistled and shouted once they finished their performance, giving them a round of applause. With genuine smiles, Doyoung and his partner bowed before they ran off the stage.

Now, only thirty minutes of aggressive advertising, and we would know the winner.

“Is it too late to agree to that quickie?”

“You should’ve said so earlier,” Taeyong answered with an innocent smile as he reached to hold my hand. “The best I can do is cuddles,” he added, leading me to the couch, letting me rest my head on his shoulder. “It feels nice.”

“It does, but it doesn’t take my mind off things like a quickie would.”

“Don’t even try. I am not going on that stage with a boner in my pants,” Taeyong warned, peeling my hand off his thigh, pressing a delicate kiss against my knuckles.

Though it wasn’t as preoccupying as sex, it was still nice. And most importantly, it took our minds off the unbearable anticipation. A staff member actually needed to gently shake Taeyong’s shoulder to remind us that the MC was calling us to the stage.

Taeyong’s hand didn’t leave mine once we were waiting for the big reveal. It was fine if we lost. Next year, Seulgi and Taeyong would definitely make it to the top.

When the MC announced the winner, a few confetti bombs exploded. The audience roared in excitement, but I had no clue what was going on. Uncertainty was over – one of us won.

Stress, anticipation, and anxiety slowed down my reactions. However, I figured it would be weird if Taeyong picked me up and spun me around in his arms if we lost. It could only mean one thing – we did it.

We won.

Taeyong’s acceptance speech was short and simple. He thanked everyone who succored him discover his passion for dancing, who supported him throughout his dream, who directly helped him get this far, and me.

When I was handed the microphone for the first time that evening, I basically rephrased Taeyong words. Maybe it wasn’t my dream, but it felt damn good to assist Taeyong in achieving his. It was a bumpy road, but overall, it was all worth it.

The MC handed me a statue after shaking my hand, congratulating me once more. Taeyong, on the other hand, was gifted a huge check for 20 thousand dollars.

“Let’s go,” Taeyong whispered to me, running off the stage with me.

***

It was shortly before midnight when the Uber parked in front of the hotel where Seulgi’s and Irene’s reception took place. It was beautifully decorated with lights and flowers, making it look like a magical castle.

Though the security didn’t want to grant entrance, one of Seulgi’s aunts recognized Taeyong and told the man to let us in. She was nice enough to help us out, but she still found some time to glance disapprovingly at my stage costume. I wouldn’t be surprised if she gossiped to her entire family I was a prostitute.

As soon as we walked into the ballroom, Seulgi noticed us. She was sitting by the table, eating the wedding cake with Irene. In an instant, she rose from her chair and ran up to us, throwing herself on Taeyong’s neck.

“You won! I knew it!” She shouted as she gave Taeyong a bone-crushing hug. “Irene and I sneaked out for a while to watch your performance. You smashed them,” Seulgi added before she turned to me, congratulating me too.

“You were amazing,” Irene approached us, sending a polite smile. Unlike Seulgi, Irene was much calmer and collected.

“You are finally married,” Taeyong spoke, beaming. “You better have everything recorded. I gotta know every embarrassing thing that I missed,” he added in a teasing manner, earning a playful jab from Seulgi. “I bet you cried during your vows.”

“Congratulations,” I chimed in, breaking their friendly banter before it properly started. It was Seulgi’s wedding day, after all.

After we caught up, Seulgi and Irene walked off to the dance floor, leaving us by the table alone. For a while, we admired them. They looked absolutely stunning in their white suits, dancing, basking in happiness.

“Do you know where the gifts are held?” I inquired suddenly, looking around.

“Why? Did you have time to get them anything?” Taeyong asked before he stuffed his mouth with a chocolate glazed strawberry. “Or are you thinking of stealing some?”

“I just want to give them my part of the prize,” I started, making Taeyong choke on the fruit. “Seulgi’s the rightful winner, and I think it’s only right.”

“Are you sure? It’s a lot of money.”

“Yeah, I know, but I really want to do that,” I replied, fiddling with my fingers. “I don’t need this money, so I want to give it to her.”

“You’re so hot right now,” Taeyong said, making me turn my head in embarrassment. “If that’s what you really want to do, do it. But remember, you earned it.”

“I am sure.”

“Then let me spoil you with my prize,” Taeyong offered, staring into my eyes. At first, I thought he was joking, but when his gaze didn’t even falter, I understood how serious he was. “Well… look at that. What are the odds?” Taeyong spoke as a familiar melody echoed within the walls of the grand ballroom. “It’s our song. Shall we dance?”

Having glanced at Seulgi, who whispered something to the DJ, I smiled at Taeyong. Though I was sick and tired of Love Talk already, it was kind of our song. We had been listening to this song too much, and regardless of how good it was, the prospect of it being our anthem terrified me.

“One last time,” I gave in, accepting Taeyong’s invitation, letting him lead me to the dance floor. Despite having mastered the choreography to it, I just wrapped my arms around his neck, slowly waltzing to it.

“That’s nothing like we practiced,” Taeyong pinpointed, and I chuckled, shaking my head. “I don’t mind, though. It’s comfy,” he added as his hands found purchase on my hips.

“Seulgi doesn’t look pleased. She didn’t expect us to perform, did she?” I whispered into Taeyong’s ear, hugging him closer. “Also, it can’t be our song. We have to change it; the sooner, the better,” I complained, but Taeyong just chuckled into my ear, humming softly.

Instead of giving me an actual answer, Taeyong decided to sing it.

“I love the way you're talking to me.”

#taeyong smut #neosmutsongs #neosmutcollective #nct smut #taeyong #lee taeyong #nct u smut #nct 127 smut #nct fluff #taeyong fluff #dance au

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sunatooru · 4 years ago

Note

This is a random but cute idea, I got! So you know of the whole friends to lover schtick like “the one that’s always been there for them no matter what” kinda deal? So Suna, Bokuto, Kuroo, and Iwaizumi are friends with Y/N who’s always been by their side through and through. She has a crush on them (they aren’t aware of it) but accepts that her feelings might not be returned, but after a few days of her not showing up to school or answering their messages/calls; They hear from one of her friends about her moving to America (mainly heard her last name and the word moving). And they get this big ass realization about how much they love her and how amazing she is. They’re terrified that they’ll never see her again, so these guys just book it to her place and when they finally see her, they give her a hella tight hug as they confess their feelings, how much they love her, and that they don’t want her to go. Y/N is both confused and relieved that her crush returns her feelings but explains that she’s helping her relative move out to the states so she’s been too busy to talk or be at school but she confesses her feelings back to them and gives them a kiss.

(God, I’m so sorry for how long this became 😭)

Hiiii these were cutee and also I love when requests are super long and detailed!! So thank youuuu, I hope you like them and let me know pleasee xx

A/n - Are these dramatic or do I want to be loved???

Suna

You watch him go through his phone. He always looked so relaxed and pretty. You two had been friends for a while now. Always telling each other what's going on around school, teasing his least favourite twin and just always being around each other. You were falling for him hard. The way his eyes would slightly widen when he watched his favourite show. The little air he puffs when he sees a funny meme. Everything he did made your heart beat faster.

When you realised how much you liked him you were overjoyed. Being close friends with your crush was rare and yet you got to enjoy his presence.

However, overtime you realised he never really acknowledges you. Yes, he talks and hangs out with you but he didn't seem interested in the same way you were with him. When you accepted he wouldn't return your feelings, you just continued to act like it didn't hurt you every time he smiled at someone else.

He noticed you hadn't been at school for the last 2 days, not thinking much until he heard your name.

"Yeah I heard they're leaving for America. Must be so cool." He hears his classmates gush and widens his eyes.

You were leaving?

When the end of school bell rings, he quickly gathers his things and rush to the exit.

"Hey! We have practice!" He hears Osamu call out but keeps on moving.

"Tell Kita-san there's an emergency and I can't make it." He doesn't wait for a reply.

He hurries to your house, tie loose as he finally makes it to your street. He feels his chest tighten at the moving truck stationed outside your gates.

He sees you holding a box and rushes over to you. You almost dropped the box from his approach.

"Suna? What are you doing here?"

He pulls you into a tight embrace, hand buried in your hair as you feels his heart beat.

"Don't go. Please, I don't want you to go..." you break away from the hug and he tenses at your confused face.

"What?" You question and he runs his hand through this hair.

"I love you. I know I don't show it but I do. I think I've always loved you but I guess I didn't want to change our friendship..please don't go. I need you." He confesses in quick breath and this time you do drop the box.

"Rin-" you jump into his chest, wrapping your arms around him, hiding your face as you let out a little sniffle.

"I love you too. I've been in love with you for a while now." You look up to him and although the smiles, his eyes still hold a worried look.

"So you won't leave?"

"No? Why would I leave?" He motions to the box of belonging and van.

"Oh, I'm just helping my aunt move some of her stuff she kept here. She's leaving for America soon, so I've been busy and couldn't be at school." He rubs his palm over his face, chuckling from your answer.

"I really rushed here thinking I would never see you again."

"Sorry but you don't get that pleasure." You poke at his cheek, giggling, only to be silence as he places his lips on yours.

Bokuto

You're basically his number one fan. Always attending matches, staying after school for practice and just being his support. He adored you for it. Always calling on you to watch him spike, complimenting how his jersey looks good on you and how well you get along with the team.

What you wished he would realise was how in love you are with him. You've known him for a long time and of course you cheered for him as his friend but all the extra bits were efforts to show him he meant more to you. How could you not fall for him? He was beautiful, passionate, kind and enthusiastic. The way his eyes would light up when he touch a volleyball. How his laugh could lift the mood in the room, make you forget your problems and just let his laugh make its way into your heart. He just made everyone so comfortable and this gained him a lot of admirers. You would watch the way he behaved with potential dates, treating them kindly and laughing with them. He could have anyone he wanted. And with that thought your heart silently broke at the fact he probably doesn't feel anything towards you.

He immediately notices your absence. Scanning the school for your face, texting you multiple times for your whereabouts. Although your messages were short, he was content with the replies. Letting you get on with whatever was keeping you busy. But then you didn't come in the next day. He scanned everywhere again with no luck.

"Y/n...America....going tomorrow." He stood frozen at the door of your classroom, eyes widen hearing that you're m leaving the country.

Somehow gets permission to go out for lunch. He runs to your house, growing more and more upset that you're leaving him. Yells out your name when he sees you.

"Y/n, why are you leaving me? You can't just go! Why didn't you tell me that you're leaving me and going somewhere else? I love you too much!" He pants, arms pulling you into a tight hug.

"What did you say, Bo?" You whisper, head hoping you heard wrong so you could carry on pretending.

"I love you so much. More than a friend. I love you, don't leave me.." his voice strains and you gasp.

"I'm not going anywhere.," you finally say and you look up to see his eyes a little watery.

"But they said you're going to America tomorrow..."

"Nooo, I'm helping my cousin. They're going tomorrow and needed help. I'm not leaving you. I love you too.," you blush as you say the words out loud. His face immediately brightens, teeth on show as he smiles at you.

You pull his chin down and watch as he closes his mouth and eyes flutter shut. He smiles into the kiss, his warm lips finally on yours, pulling back you grin back at him.

Kuroo

What started as table partners in your chemistry lesson, quickly turned into best friend. From mocking his hair to cheering for the team he captains. You both got close really fast. He would wave at you at games, stick his tongue at you when he scored higher on exams and even tease you if his teammates flirted with you. He treated you like his friend. A close, always present, friend. But you started to feel more, you would look around in hopes of seeing him. Argue with him just to spend more time together and rolling your eyes at his fake collected demeanour when girls approached him. You loved him, loved his bad hair, stupid laugh and cunning brain.

You were so close to confessing until you heard him calling you just a good friend. Your throat tightened and in that moment, you chose to act like your feelings never existed. You would still tease and cheer for him, but not forcing any more contact you already had. You hoped the less time spent with him, the less hurt you'd feel.

He noticed, he might not seem very observant, but he noticed the way you would slightly pull away. How your mock fights would just be a little less intense, almost as if you were hesitating with your words. And then you stopped replying to him. All he wanted to know was if you were coming to the game tomorrow, sending you a quick message at night knowing you'll be awake. When he woke up, there was no reply. Hoping to catch you at school, he waits at your classroom. But you weren't there. He sent more messages, worried when you still wouldn't reply. Another day went by in the same way. He couldn't understand why you weren't replying to him. He almost walked into an opening door looking at his phone.

".Yeah, I went over to help Y/n pack a little, they're taking so many things for when they leave for America."

He felt his ears grow red, his grip on his phone tightening in the thought of you leaving. Is that why you've not been replying? But why? Why are you leaving and going away?

Cancels practice and hurries to your place. White shirt half tucked in as he obnoxiously knocks on your door. Your eyes widen as you see him panting on your doorstep.

"Why are you ignoring me? Why haven't you been at school or answering my messages?" You can hear the hurt in his voice.

"Why did you not tell-tell me you're leaving? You can't just go and not tell me, I thought we were close enough. I thought I still had time to tell you I'm in love with you. And you're just planning to leave with no explanation?!" A tear slips down his cheek, you quickly go to brush it away and he holds your wrist in place.

"Kuroo, I...I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry I haven't replied to you or been at school I've just been helping my relative with packing for when they move to America." You looks at your feet, cheeks burning as you speak.

"I'm in love with you too...for some time now. I thought you only saw me as a friend.." you yelp as he squeezes you in his arms, his breathing beginning to regulate.

"Yeah a friend who I'm very much in love with, who will hopefully become more than a friend." You pull away and giggle as he gives you a lopsided grin.

"You're so cute I could kiss you." You tease and he moves his face closer to yours.

"Go ahead." You shake your head, pursing your lips as you bring them to his, his hand cupping your jaw to bring you closer.

Iwaizumi

If there's one thing you grateful for by being partners with Oikawa, it was being able to meet Iwaizumi too. You two quickly became friends in mocking Oikawa, a friendship bonded over your mutual annoyance. Suddenly you've become a trio, hanging around in school, meeting after school for training and going over to their house to do homework. It just felt right. And although Oikawa was pretty, you couldn't help but have a crush on Iwaizumi. He was respectful, nature, kind and adorable when he smiled. You love how his presence could almost control a room. His invisible authority was admirable. When training went late he would always drop you off after Oikawa. Asking how your day was, making sure you were okay and safe. You found the time alone with him made your crush go deeper. You couldn't help but think about him before you slept and after you've woken up. Your blush harder to hide when ever he bumped shoulders with you.

You almost hated having a crush on him. Knowing he just sees you as a friend. Pain in your gut at the thought of him rejecting you if you confessed.

When he didn't see you at the school, he was concerned. Asking Oikawa if he knew your whereabouts before calling you. When you didn't reply, he sent you a quick message but you don't respond. He was growing impatient. Your absence was making him restless. He missed you. Your laugh, the way you narrowed your eyes when you studied and how comfortable he felt around you.

"Iwa-chan!" He rolls his eyes.

"What do you want shittykawa?"

"Hey! Don't be rude. But listen, I heard someone say that Y/n is moving to the states!" He feels his stomach tense.

"What? When?"

"Yeah, apparently the flight is-" he doesn't stay for the rest.

He runs to your house, his backpack barely on as he runs through the crowds. Knocks on your door and waits. Bow to your parents from letting him in and quickly makes his way to you room, the door is open and his heart drops at the box filled with belongings on your floor.

"Iwaizumi? What are you doing here?"

"Are you leaving?"

"What?"

"Are you leaving for America? Please say you're not and Oikawa is lying and that you're not actually going away. Y/n, I like you a lot, so much, you can't leave...I was going to ask you out and take you on a date and get you food and-" you cut him off with a kiss.

He face is full of shock when you pull away, you sheepishly smile at him and he blushes. You grab one of his hand and caress it.

"I'm not the one going to America, one of my relatives is going so I'm helping them. See, this is some stuff they're giving me." You point to the box and he lefts out a sigh of relief.

"I'm going to kill trashykawa." He groans and you let out a laugh.

"So um...you don't have to like me back or anything.." he says lowly.

"Iwa, I like you too. And I'll love to go on a date with you." He looks up and smiles at you, bringing you hand to his lips, placing a little kiss on your skin.

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timextoxhajima · 3 years ago

Text

Not For Sale: Week 14

NOT FOR SALE CHAPTER NAVIGATION

Member: Heeseung + Jay [ft. Sunghoon and Jake]

Pairings: [fem] uni exchange student! reader x uni student! HS x uni student! Jay

Warnings: scenes in the hospital

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis/Quote: In which your oblivious ass cannot tell that a popular boy in your class has a big, fat crush on you | “It seems like the one who was ruined was me.”

Taglist: @hyunjaethereal @seasideheeseung @wooya1224 @gratefulmaria @sunshineshouchan @youreverydayzebra @fayqj @witheeseung @haechanhues @w-o-o-y-a-a @miingxuxi @reallysmolrenjun @hrrhmay-primaryblog @rosie112703 @ac-ewow @liliansun [drop me a dm/ask/comment to be added!]

You’re staring at the project document blankly, the pages filled with words and tables of the work you’ve done with Heeseung in the last few weeks or so. The weekend felt like three weeks, even when it was just three days - simply because you were in the hospital watching Jay flit in and out of consciousness and Heeseung’s still in a comatose state.

The seat next to you is empty and there is no other word to describe being alone on your last week of school than ‘sad’.

The Uber that picked Jay and Heeseung up had just been in school compounds and the police had found a rig in the brakes - the Uber had been stopped by another car driving straight into it.

Heeseung was on the side the car was rammed into. It’s a miracle he’s even still alive.

“y/n?”

The call jolts you out of your dissociation.

“Hey,” The professor walks up the stairs, and only now do you realise everybody else had left the lecture hall besides you. “I had the others hand up their projects but I saw you zoning out and I couldn’t do it.”

“Sorry,” Mumbling under your breath, you give the folder a quick flip-through before handing him the document. “Here.”

With pursed lips, he takes the folder and glances through it, skimming through the contents and pausing on the last page where you and Heeseung had signed off on.

“I’m sorry it happened.”

“I’m sorry the school had to go through so much to catch the idiot,” Through gritted teeth, you offer him a small wince.

“Well, yeah, that too,” The professor pulls up the lecture table from the seat next to you and sits himself in the plastic grove. “But it’s not important now. He’s going to be charged for God knows how many felonies, but I just- I wanted to know how you’re holding up.”

The concerned question thrums chills through you. Heeseung would’ve asked that. Jay would’ve too.

Jake and Sunghoon have probably tried, but you’re too busy crying or zoning out at the hospital to process anything else even if they did try.

“I’m fine,” You shake your head and stuff your iPad into your bag. “There’s nothing anybody can do to make him wake up faster.”

“I know that. It’s just... I don’t want a student ending her semester like this.”

The grumble of the zip as you close your bag is disgustingly loud in the empty lecture hall. You hug your bag, slowly looping your arm through one of the holes as you push the lecture table away.

“I’ll be fine. I’m leaving next week anyway and Heeseung’s not dead, so.”

The professor goes quiet upon the declaration.

“Thanks for the fun sem, Prof,” You give him a tiny, wretched smile that’s not genuine at all, lifting a leg over the backrest of the seat in front of you. “I’ll tell my dad to say hi to you every now and then.”

Finally on both your feet one row before him, he looks at you with sad, tired eyes.

“It’s been a pleasure having you and Heeseung as students, y/n. Do come back to visit when you come visit your father.”

A bare nod shakes your head.

“Bye prof.”

The ceiling looks the same. The light dangling from the beige, crusty roof looks dusty.

The room looks the same - except the fact that 80% of it were in boxes now. The clock hung on the wall has the loudest ticking you’ve ever heard - had it been this loud since the start?

Bzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzt. Bzzz-

“Hello.”

“Jesus Christ, how many times do you want me to call you before you’d pick up?”

Maybe until Heeseung wakes up.

“You know what? Don’t answer that.”

A pause.

“How are you holding up?”

“Great. I mean the sem’s over. I’ve handed up almost every project I need to submit.”

“Fuck you, you know I don’t mean that.”

“What am I supposed to tell you? I’m great, while I wait for my two friends to recover in the hospital? One of them’s not even awake.”

“I don’t want to be that person but no matter how much you cry or pray that he wakes up, it’s going to take time, okay? Let him rest and recuperate and he’ll spring back to life like he wasn’t just in an accident.”

“I shouldn’t have let them take the Uber.”

“For crying out loud, it is not your fault. You told them your dad was coming to get you and Jay didn’t want to cancel it for the fee. It’s a normal reaction. Who was supposed to know the Uber was rigged?”

You blink.

“Have you packed?”

You count the boxes in your room. “Mostly.”

“I’ll be at your place when you come home. We can bake cupcakes and cookies and you can tell me about the school there.”

Your ears are taking in her words but your eyes are on the paper bag on your desk. It’s the tumbler that Jay got you.

“Hello? You there?”

“Byeol, what if they don’t wake up before I leave? I have 8 days.”

“Have some faith in them, would you? Jay’s already awake right? He’s just flitting in and out of consciousness and Heeseung... They haven’t said he’s in critical condition, right?”

“But he’s been in the ER and it’s been three days.”

“Sis, I could sleep for three days. He’ll be awake before you leave.”

“Hope so.”

“Not going to the hospital?”

“Nah,” You roll over onto your side and stare at yourself in the mirror on your wardrobe doors. “Their friends are swarming the wards. It’s fine, Jake and Hoon got me onto the special visitors’ list.”

“There’s a special visitors’ list?”

“It’s Jay and it’s an expensive hospital with classier management. So yeah, pretty much.”

“That’s nice.”

Silence - except the occasional crackling of the static on the phone.

“They’ll do fine, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I have to go now. I’ll call you tonight or tomorrow, I’ll text you?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye bye.”

The car ride with your father is quiet, the gentle music from the stereo playing and you’re thinking about how your mother is back at home. She is a busy woman back home too so you hadn’t really had the time to call or text her.

For the first time in a long time, your father knows more about your life than she does.

“I know you’re probably not in the mood to answer this but...” The car slows at a red light. “Have you started packing?”

You don’t turn. The trees outside are swaying gently in the light breeze on this sunny day. It reminds you of the day Heeseung brought you out to the beach for your picnic.

“I’m about 80% done. The stuff left’s like my laptop and iPad and daily appliances.”

“That’s good,” You see him nod in the window’s reflection and glance at you. “Well, I’ll come by and hand you the documents for credit transfer later this week and I’ll send you to the bus terminal next Wednesday too, yeah?”

“Mhm,” Humming to yourself, the refracted red light turns green. “Sure.”

The car starts again. “Hun, I... I just wanted you to know that I know this sem has been difficult for you. I’m- I’m sorry that I suggested you come. Had I known that there was going to be a lunatic running on the loose, I would’ve stopped you from coming.”

“You wouldn’t have known,” You mumble, but still loud enough for him to hear. “It’s fine, it’s over.”

“And with what happened with Jay and Heeseung... I’m sorry. I really am.”

“They would’ve gotten caught up in this crazy shitfest with the psycho anyway, regardless of my presence,” Finally turning to look at your father, he side-eyes you while keeping his hands on the steering wheel. “It’s not anybody’s fault except that psycho’s that this happened.”

Your father remains quiet, unable to respond. The car drives into the sheltered drop-off point at the hospital and he watches you unbuckle the seat belt to let yourself out the car.

“Hey.”

You sling your bag over your shoulder and rest a hand on the car door.

“They’ll be okay.”

A weak smile pulls your lips up your cheeks.

“I hope so.”

By the time you’ve reached the floor where the wads were, you’ve run into a good number of their friends. Of course, there were one or two bad apples among the bunch, but most of them knew you were on a special visitors’ list and that’s why you came so late.

It never gets easier though, the look on their faces when you know they want to tell you that they’ll be okay, but promises should not be made if they cannot be kept.

Walking into Jay’s ward, you see his mother helping to sponge his face while Jake and Sunghoon speak to a friend on the other side of the bed.

You catch the room’s attention when you pull the plastic bag out from your bag and let the door shut behind you, Jay’s mother looking up and offering you a tired smile.

“Oh, hey,” Jake grins and beckons you over.

“Hi Mrs Park,” You gesture to Jake to wait before holding out the plastic bag to Jay’s mother. “It’s a box of tonic for you and Mr Park. Thought of getting fruits but I don’t think Jay can have them yet.”

“Gosh, you really didn’t have to,” She shakes her head and sets the cloth down by the bed. “Thank you. Are you sure you’re okay, coming to visit so often? You’re here everyday, aren’t you?”

You return her a tight, pursed smile. “Yeah, but it’s fine. I’m leaving to go home next week so I don’t have much time left to spend with them. I don’t mind.”

“Oh, honey,” She stands and takes the box from you, turning to set it down on the table behind her before returning you her attention. “I... I don’t know what to say. This must be all a lot for you.”

You break the eye contact first, knowing that you were probably going to cry if you hadn’t stopped looking at her.

“No, it’s fine,” You raise a palm and rub her upper arm. “All I want is to have a decent conversation with Jay before I leave, and I’ll be more than satisfied.”

“Oh!” She exclaims, nose crunching into a threatened crying mess. She holds her arms open and coerces you into her arms, patting the back of your head. “Of course. Of course, Jay will be fine by the time you need to go home. I promise.”

“I really do hope so,” You pull away first and smile weakly at her.

“By the way, Mr and Mrs Lee are with Heeseung in the ward next door,” She sniffles, anxiously rubbing her palms together.

“Oh, right- Do they know I’m on the-”

“Yes, of course they do, sweet heart,” She quickly rubs your arm to comfort you, then slides her hands down to yours to keep them in her palms. “Their parents are the sweetest couple ever and they’d be so grateful that Heeseung has a friend like you. How about I have Jake or Sunghoon bring you over to meet them?”

“Oh,” You watch as she waves to get one of the boys’ attention, Sunghoon quickly pulling away from the crowd to attend to you.

“Would you do me a favour and bring her over to Heeseung’s ward? Introduce her to his parents.”

“Of course,” Sunghoon hurriedly nods and lowers his head out of respect. “Come on.”

“Thanks, Mrs Park,” You turn your feet to follow Sunghoon, but your hands are reluctant to leave hers. “I’ll come back later.”

“No, take your time, sweet.”

With a slight nod, you pull away and trail after Sunghoon out of the ward after leaving your bag with Jake.

The ward door closes with a soft hiss, then Sunghoon pauses right before you can come into view of Heeseung’s ward door, turning over his shoulder to look down at you.

“I don’t mean to bring this up at a bad time but...”

“I know,” You nod. “I know I’ve been an ass the last few weeks. Honestly, I... I didn’t know who I wanted to be endgame either.”

Sunghoon gives your word one more second of thought before he turns around to face you.

“It’s not my business but are you going to choose? Or... just go home next week?”

You frown and look down at your hands, reminiscing the warmth from Jay’s mother.

“I don’t know,” Your voice cracks. “I don’t think I can choose. Even if I do, I have 8 days, and neither of them are awake yet. I don’t... I don’t want to do that to them.”

He takes a deep breath and looks away, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“It’s Heeseung. Choose Heeseung,” He says without looking at you. “The night they got into a crash, Jay texted Jake to tell us that Heeseung kissed you, and that was the moment he decided he would give up.”

The statement tears you apart on the inside.

“Jay’s a tough guy to hurt and he plays his cards fairly and maturely,” Sunghoon nods and finally looks at you. “Don’t feel bad you’re choosing Heeseung over him. He had a truce with Heeseung. About you. And he knows he lost fair and square, so don’t feel upset. Just pour your heart and soul into Heeseung for the rest of the time you’re here, and worry about committing anything else after you’ve gone home.”

You part your lips to breathe, as if it would help you understand any faster or better.

“Anyway, both Heeseung’s parents are in there and they already have an idea who you are so... Just be nice.”

He watches you nod, slightly zoned-out, then pushes the door open.

His parents can tell you’re more preoccupied with the limp, breathing body on the bed than their presence, but they still take it with grace and greet you like they’ve known you your entire life.

The sight of Heeseung being bandaged up with a leg hanging in the air makes you feel like shit.

Who wouldn’t?

Later in the night, after Heeseung’s mother had gone home and his father had left to get coffee, you’re left alone with him and the occasional beeping from the Holter monitor.

There was a bruise and scratch on his left cheek, and his neck, arms and right leg were in a cast. You think about how much he was going to miss dancing when he gets told he’ll need to be on a 6-month break from anything strenuous.

Tired, you pull your earpieces out and plug it into your phone, laying it on the bed while you hover over him to fit the earbuds into his ears. Then you sit back down and scroll through your playlist, playing with the volume buttons to make sure it was softer than the volume you’d normally listen to your music at.

You make your selection, then quietly lay on the mattress with the faint music drizzling the atmosphere’s noise. That’s how quiet the room was.

His fingers were sticking out of his cast, so you play with them. His hair was in his shut eyes, so you gently push them out in case he were to open them.

“One more time, Heeseung. Just one more time before I leave.”

Jay’s mother was sleeping by his bed when you walk in to check on them, bag hanging from your right shoulder and lids heavy from the terrible sleep schedule the past few days.

“Hi.”

And a smile stretches your lips out when you can see him blink, offer you his bright grin, apart from the cut on his eyebrow.

“Hey,” You whisper, walking towards him on the other side of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Jay clears his throat and blinks. “Had better days, but at least I’m alive.”

A snigger threatens to wake his mother up. “Good. Do you want me to wake your mom up? Maybe get a doctor in to give you a check up or something.”

He shakes his head, even managing a small wave in his fingers laying by his hip. “No, I’m good. I’m going back to sleep soon anyway.”

You lean over and adjust his pillow. “Well, then I shan’t disturb you. I’ll come by again tomorrow.”

“Sure,” He looks up at you and nods. Your gazes meet, for a split second, he can kind of know what you’re thinking of, and you know what he was.

“Thank you for this sem, Jay. I really am.”

He shakes his head. “No, thank you. It was a fun sem because of you.”

“You call being in a hospital ward fun?”

Chuckling, he turns back to look at the ceiling for a second. “You will come back to visit us, won’t you? Zoom call us or something.”

“Of course. We could meet up during the summer break if anything.”

Satisfied, he nods again. “Good.”

“Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow,” You shove your hands into your pockets.

“Okay,” He quietly responds, watching you turn on your heels. “Oh, y/n.”

You turn and raise a brow.

“Heeseung. He’s the one for you, and... he’ll wake up for you. I know he will.”

With a slightly ached grin, you nod and look down at your feet.

“Bye Jay.”

“Bye.”

#enhypennetwork #heeseung scenarios #heeseung imagines #heeseung angst #heeseung x reader #jay scenarios #jay imagines #jay angst #jay x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfic #enhypen series #heeseung series #jay series

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c-optimistic · 4 years ago

Note

Hi!! I love the way you write. I would love if you can write about Lena and Kara balancing their jobs and being a mother. Thank you! I hope you have a great day ♥️

hey anon! I dunno if you’re the same person who sent me a very similar prompt decades ago, but if you are my apologies for the wait, and if you’re not, great minds think alike. hope you like it.

“Have you seen my heels?”

Kara didn’t look up as she answered. “Um, I think the girls kicked it under the couch when chasing—hey, stop it Liz, you’re supposed to swallow your food, not throw it at your sister.”

“She started it,” Liz protested, pointing towards Ally and narrowing her eyes. Ally, two years older and at the stage where she believed herself to be far superior to her younger sister, mimicked her Aunt Alex’s huff of disbelief and shook her head.

“You heard Mom, Liz,” she said, sounding more like Lena than she did an eight-year-old. “Don’t throw your food. We eat food. Like this.” She mimicked eating, and Liz’s eyes went wide.

Kara winced, bracing herself for what she knew was coming.

“I know how to eat, Ally! Mom, tell her I know how to eat! Mom!”

“Okay,” Kara said, holding up a hand. “That’s enough. Ally, don’t antagonize your sister. And Liz, stop throwing things.”

“Yeah, Ally. Don’t antgize me,” Liz said with her chin raised high. Ally opened her mouth, clearly about to respond and extend this argument well into the ride to work with her, when Lena walked over, her shirt still not fully buttoned, wearing only one shoe, the other dangling from her hand.

“Kara, I pushed my meeting to next week, so you can take care of your assignment tonight. But we’re going to have to cancel lunch if I want to take off early to pick up the girls.”

Kara grinned, fixing Lena’s shirt and then allowing her to use her for balance as she leaned over to put her other shoe on. “Thank you. I know the assignment was super last minute,” she said, leaning over to press a quick kiss to Lena’s lips. Ally and Liz, united by their mutual dislike of their parents’ PDA, got over their food feud and made retching noises together before dissolving into giggles. “I’ll swing by, drop off some food. I know you’ll skip lunch otherwise.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lena mumbled, waving a hand and turning to the girls. “You two, behave for your mom, okay? I’ll see you at 4:30.” She kissed Liz and Ally on the foreheads, gave Kara one last fond look, then grabbed her bag and left.

Kara sighed, reveling in the silence that followed her wife’s departure, and then: “Why do you have to work at all, Mom? You’re Supergirl.”

“Don’t be dumb, Ally,” Liz responded, rolling her eyes. “Mom isn’t Supergirl, she’s a reporter.” She stressed the word like it was something bad, and Kara just took in a deep breath before gathering the dishes from their breakfast and taking it to the sink.

“Liz, why don’t you go get dressed? And pick one thing to bring with you.”

“Aww, just one?” Liz complained, but she did as she was told, sliding off her chair and skipping down the hallway towards her bedroom. Kara waited till she was sure Liz was safely out of hearing range, and she turned to Ally.

“We had a deal, Als,” she said, raising an eyebrow, hands on her hips. “It’s a secret until Liz is a little older.”

Ally—dark haired and blue eyed, looking a little bit more like her father as the years dragged on, but acting more and more like her aunt every single day, and smarter than either of them were at that age—frowned. “You promised you’d teach me more about Krypton.”

“And I will.” When Ally just gave her a disbelieving look, Kara stepped closer to her, dropping to her eye-level. “Look, I have some time off in a few weeks. What if I took you to the Fortress of Solitude?”

“Just you and me?”

(More and more, Ally seemed to gravitate towards her more than towards Lena. Lena liked to joke that it was Ally’s Luthor genes shining through, wanting to be close to a Kryptonian just like her father and aunt.

But for Kara...it felt nice even if she was anxious about it. Because what it was, more than anything, was evidence that Ally—for better or for worse—had chosen to see Kara as one of her mothers, that she accepted Kara the way she was, that she wanted to be involved with aspects of Kara’s life that she hid away for so long.

And yet, Kara wasn’t sure what brought it on, and Ally—much like Lena—was often silent on her feelings.)

“Just you and me,” Kara confirmed. “But we’ll have to ask Mommy for the okay, okay?”

“Aww, that’s what you said about the zoo, too! And Mommy said no.” Ally’s eyes narrowed. “You and Mommy play good cop and bad cop, that’s what Aunt Maggie says.”

“Don’t listen to your Aunt Maggie,” Kara said with a grin, straightening as Liz came running back towards them.

“I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m ready!” she sang, dragging a massive duffel bag behind her. “It’s one thing,” she defended when Kara gave her a look. “You didn't say the one thing couldn’t be filled with other things.”

“Ally, help your sister choose one toy, I need to get dressed.”

(And after much protest, an accident involving glitter, and a brief panic when Ally thought she forgot her books at home, they finally found their way to Kara’s office, only a tiny bit late.

Though if you asked Kara, she wouldn’t really have it any other way.)

“Liz, please stop running, you know I can’t chase after you in heels,” Lena called out, watching carefully as Liz raced towards the swing set at the park. Ally, who was walking to Lena’s right, let out a soft snort and finally looked up from the book she’d been engrossed in since Lena picked the girls up from Kara’s office.

“Mom said we should tie a bell to her, so that she can always hear where Liz runs off to,” Ally informed her, marking where she left off in her book and snapping it shut as she followed Lena to one of the benches, sitting down dutifully next to her. “I think it’s a good idea.”

Lena reached out, smoothing back Ally’s hair and smiling when this prompted Ally to lean into her. “I do, too. Though we may not need a bell,” she said, looking over at where Liz was now singing at the top of her lungs, ignoring the looks from the other children. “Did you have a good day with your sister and your mom’s office?”

“Yeah. We got ice cream. I’m not supposed to tell you, but for half an hour, Mom had leave us for a Supergirl emergency. Uncle James watched us.”

“Really?” Lena said, trying not to laugh. “Your mom isn’t very sneaky. I saw her on the news.” Oddly, this made Ally pull away, gnawing at her lip, her fingers running up and down the spine of her book. “What’s wrong, Alexandra?” Lena asked softly, knowing that the use of her full name would let Ally know she was being serious. For a moment, though, it didn’t seem as if Ally was going to respond. “Is this about you wanting to learn more about Krypton?”

“No. Mom wants to take me to the Fortress. She said we’d need your permission.”

Lena didn’t take the bait, didn’t let Ally change the subject. “Come on, Ally. What’s the matter?”

“Last week, when Mom got hurt, were you..did you...I don’t like Supergirl,” she finished, expression hardening.

(And, oh, Lena thought they’d have more time. More time with Ally as a kid, a kid who saw her superhero mom and thought it was cool, a kid who didn’t realize how much danger her mom was in every time she put on the suit.

But Ally was the smartest kid Lena had ever met, even after accounting for her bias regarding her daughter. So of course Ally would catch on, of course Ally would worry, of course Ally would want to spend more time with Kara.)

“I get scared too, you know. Every time I see your mom on the television, every time she gets hurt. That’s normal, worrying for the people you love.” When Ally turns to look at her, Lena tucks a stray strand of hair behind Ally’s ear. “Loving someone doesn’t mean we can control what they do, though. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Ally sighs. “Mom has to ask you for permission to go to the Fortress with me, but she doesn’t have to ask you to fight a bad man.”

Lena chuckles, figuring Ally’s basically gotten the point. “You make her very happy, you know. When you ask about Krypton, want to know more. She wants to share it with you. And Liz, when she’s older. And you should talk to her, about Supergirl. Maybe if you hear from her why it’s so important to her, you’ll see Supergirl differently. Like I do.”

Ally didn’t respond, but Lena didn’t really need her to. Instead, she got up and held out her hand, waiting for Ally to take it before she called out to Liz, who came running with a big grin.

And together, hand in hand, they began walking home.

When Kara made it home that night, it was completely silent.

She chucked off her shoes and deposited her bag next to the couch before slowly walking towards their bedroom, pausing as she walked by the room Ally and Liz shared.

The two of them were curled up on the bottom bunk of their bed, Liz gripping onto one of Ally’s hands, the other one near her mouth, as if she’d fallen asleep sucking on her thumb. Ally was sleeping protectively next to Liz, as if she’d fallen asleep talking to her sister.

Kara blinked as she realized: Ally must’ve fallen asleep telling Liz a story.

(That was Kara’s job. Every night, reading a story. Sometimes in English, but often—especially when the girls were younger—it was in Kryptonian.)

She walked over, pulled their covers over them, pressed barely there kisses to their foreheads, and then turned to head out. But then: “Love you, Mom. Good night.”

And when Kara made it back to her bedroom—when she slid into bed next to Lena, smiling when Lena immediately grabbed her arm and pulled it around her waist, making sure they were snugly pressed together—she couldn’t help but smile and press a kiss to the back of Lena’s neck.

Tomorrow, Liz would be starting a new daycare and Ally would be going back to school, and there were meetings and late hours Lena needed to worry about and Supergirl duties and deadlines Kara worried about.

But here now, her daughters were sleeping in the other room, her wife was warm in her arms, and everything was just perfect.

(And Kara really, really wouldn’t have it any other way.)

#asks #anon #fanfic #supercorp

187 notes · View notes

atlafan · 4 years ago

Text

Office Neighbors - Part Six

a/n: here we are, and it certainly won’t be over after this! didn’t have time to proof read sorry, hope you enjoy! (reblogs and feedback are super helpful!)

warnings: fluff, smut, minor character death

words: 15K

masterpost

The semester was in full swing, and you were counting down the days until Thanksgiving break. It was time you could dedicate to grading, and your brother always cooked this gourmet meal for your family, so all in all, you were just ready to for the little time away. You just needed to get through another two weeks.

It was also time off for Harry. Andy always spent his Thanksgiving break with Paige since Harry got him for Christmas in London. Typically, you ate at Harry’s house for dinner twice a week, and then when Andy was at Paige’s for a weekend, Harry would either sleep at your place, or you would sleep at his. Sometimes you would go to the library together to work. He really helped you find a work-life balance. Now, Harry usually went to Lisa’s for Thanksgiving, but he wasn’t sure if those plans were set to change. He was sort of hoping to go to Boston with you, but he didn’t want to invite himself.

“I think you should just ask her.” Andy says as he helps Harry set the table.

“I don’t want to impose, it’s rude.”

“But you’re her boyfriend, she should want you to spend Thanksgiving with her.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“You say that all the time.” He rolls his eyes.

“It is! It’s not just her and I having dinner, I’d be meeting her whole family, that’s a big deal.”

“Why?”

“Because…well…it’s one thing for her to like me, but I’d want her family to like me too.”

“Dad, literally who has ever met you ever likes you. Even Noah’s parents like you.”

“Thanks.” Harry chuckles. The doorbell rings and he smiles. “Go open that for her, will you?”

Andy races over to the door, and opens it for you.

“Hi, Y/N.” He smiles.

“Hi, Andy, how was school?” You smile as you come in and kick your boots off. “Getting cold out there.” You shiver as you take your jacket off.

“School was good.” He shrugs. “My health class just started and it’s really awkward.”

“Oh, I bet.” You walk in with him and the dessert your brought. “I brought cookies, couldn’t help myself.” You say to Harry, kissing his cheek.

“Thank you.” He smiles and takes it to put on the counter. “We’re having chili tonight, thought it would be nice for a cold evening.”

“Definitely, it smells amazing.”

Everyone makes a bowl, and adds what they want. After chatting about something funny one of Harry’s students says, Andy jumps into the conversation.

“Man, I cannot wait for Thanksgiving break. I know it’s only a few days, but I can’t wait.”

Harry slowly turns his head to look at his son, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“Yeah? You go to your mom’s right?” You say.

“Mhm, my grandparents and aunt come, and so does Noah’s family. It’s actually pretty fun. My mum and aunt cook everything together. What do you usually do for Thanksgiving, Y/N?”

“Well, when I was growing up we always hosted at my parent’s house, but my brother tends to host now since he’s the one that does that cooking.”

“He’s a chef, right?”

“A sous chef, but yeah.” You smile. “Although, he doesn’t cook everything. I tend to make the more Jewish dishes, and then he makes the more traditional Thanksgiving things.”

“Noah’s mum makes a brisket, do you guys have that too?”

“Mhm! My brother makes it, although I don’t eat it anymore.” You shrug and take another bite of the chili.

“Dad goes to Auntie Lisa’s.”

“Oh, you do?”

“Yeah…”

“That must be so much fun! Her husband is such a good cook. At the last game night there he made this spinach puff things, and I think I ate the whole tray.” You laugh.

“It’s usually a good time, yeah.”

“I’m surprised you don’t do Thanksgiving at Paige’s.”

“Nah, we tend to keep holidays separate. Her family doesn’t really understand the co-parenting.”

“Gram and Gramp are kind of snooty.” Andy says. “I love them, but I usually cap the convo at five minutes, and then I find an excuse to walk away.”

You burst out laughing and so does Harry, and Andy ends up laughing too. After dinner, and the cookies, Andy goes off to start his homework, which leaves you and Harry to clean up in the kitchen.

“He’s a lot like you, you know? He’s very smooth.”

“What do you mean?”

“Bringing up what we all do for Thanksgiving, almost seemed like he was hinting at something.” You smirk. “It’s cute you talk to him about me, honestly.”

“What…I wasn’t-“

“Did you really think I wasn’t going to invite you?”

“I…well, it’s a couple of weeks away and you haven’t mentioned it, so I just figured you weren’t ready for me to meet your family.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“I was going to run it by you tomorrow…I took me a minute to work up the courage to tell my family I was going to invite you, I’m sorry.”

“No! It’s okay, so, you want me to come?”

“I do, would you?”

“Yes.” He puts his hands on your hips and kisses you. “I’d love to.”

“Great!” You wrap your arms around his neck. “I was thinking we could drive down Thursday, and then spend the night at a hotel in the city, and then Friday we could, like, do a ton of touristy Boston things before driving back up.”

“That sounds amazing. Um, let me pay for the hotel though.”

“Oh, please.” You scoff.

“Come on, it’s gonna be really expensive because of the holiday.”

“Julian, Phil’s partner, manages a hotel in the city, he said he could cut me a deal. It’s really no problem.”

“Oh…well, alright then.” He smiles. “I’m excited.”

“Me too.”

“Do you think they’ll like me?”

“I think so, yeah, but I have to warn you…when I first told you about them they had a lot of concern that I was getting involved with someone who has a kid, so they may ask a lot of personal questions. I told them not to, but they tend not to listen to me.”

“Guess it sort of comes with the territory. Nothing I can’t handle.”

You kiss goodbye before you leave, and Harry nearly squeals. He goes down to Andy’s room.

“Guess who got invited to Thanksgiving?”

“Are you serious?!” Andy stands up and gives Harry a high five. “That’s great! You should bake a pumpkin pie, you make the best pumpkin pie.”

“I do, don’t I?” He smirks. “I’ll ask her what I can bring. We’re gonna be going over night together, wow.”

“Is it that big of a deal? You have sleepovers all the time.”

“Andy…”

“I’m not stupid, Dad, she leaves…girly things here.”

“Okay, so we have sleepovers a lot, but going away with someone overnight is, like, next level.”

“You went camping together before you were even together, and then you went to that conference.”

“We didn’t share a room at the conference. It’s…it’s just different, okay? A good different. It’s gonna be great.”

“How come she doesn’t stay over when I’m here?”

“We haven’t really been together long enough for that. I don’t think she really feels comfortable just yet.”

“Why? You’re just sleeping.”

“Right…”

Andy gives Harry a weird look, and then his eyes widen.

“Oh, Jesus, Dad, don’t be gross!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You’re so annoying, get out!”

Harry puts his hands up in defense and walks away. He really didn’t mean anything by his response, but Andy was smart, and sex was still an awkward topic. He wouldn’t even watch a movie with Harry now if there was a kissing scene in it. Things were okay with Brandon, and that was all Harry cared about. He was sort of hoping health class would help.

Andy had a half day at school on Wednesday, so Harry had to pick him up and bring him back to the university. When he was picking him up he noticed him saying goodbye to Brandon. They were hugging…for a while.

“See you Monday, have fun at your mom’s.” Brandon smiles as he lets go of Andy.

“Thanks, have a good time in Connecticut.”

“Text me if you need me…I know it’s a lot for you over there for so long.”

“I will, I’ll probably need to call you Thursday night.”

“Works for me, it’ll give me an excuse to get away from cousins. I really don’t feel like staying up to play Barbie’s with them.” He rolls his eyes.

“You’re the best.” He looks over and sees Harry’s car. “My dad’s here…bye.”

“Bye.”

They hug one more time and then Andy walks over to Harry’s car, getting in the back seat.

“Hey, how was the half day.”

“Good.” Andy shrugs. “We just ate food and watched a movie.”

“Are you still hungry? I brought some extra snacks to my office this morning.”

“Yeah, I’m hungry. Did you bring anything good?”

“Cheese sticks and grapes.”

“Guess that’s fine.”

“You’re gonna eat a lot of junk this weekend, couldn’t letcha eat a bad snack with me before Mum comes to get you.”

When Harry gets back to his office with Andy, he sees you laughing with Andre. Now, Harry knew he had nothing to worry about with Andre, but he was definitely curious to see what was so funny.

“Hi, Y/N!” Andy says, hugging you.

“Oh! Hi, Andy.” You smile and hug him back.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asks coolly.

“Oh, Y/N was just pointing out how students just skip class all week to beat the traffic, but we don’t have that luxury.”

“I mean, I know all classes after three are cancelled, so we can sort of leave early, but come on. At least let me know you’re not gonna be there.” You say. “Whatever, just need to teach one more class.”

“Can I go?” Andy asks.

“Andy…Y/N’s teaching a class about rhetoric, it’s a little high level for you.”

“I don’t have any homework or anything to do, and I don’t feel like just sitting around.”

“He can come if he wants.” You shrug. “Gotta go now though.”

“Okay!” Andy runs into Harry’s office to grab his snack and then joins you.

“He really likes her, huh?” Andre says to Harry.

“Yeah, he does.”

What you were talking about in class was way over Andy’s head, but what he did understand was when you put an episode of The Office. You wanted to show different persuasion tactics used while making a sale, and you thought it would be relatable for the students. Andy thought you were the coolest person in the world for showing it.

“Alright, I hope you all have a great few days off, I’ll see you Monday.” You say at the end of class. Andy gets up from the back of the class and comes towards you. “So, what did you think?”

“I liked the part where you put on The Office.” He giggles.

“I thought so.”

“I didn’t understand a word you said, but I sort of got some of it when you put the show on. It’s sort of cool how, like, a sow you could watch just for fun could have a deeper meaning.”

“It’s very cool.” You smile and walk with him back down to Harry’s office.

You stop short when you see Paige sitting on the edge of his desk.

“Mum?”

“Hi, honey! I came to surprise you. I had a half day today too.” She smiles and hugs him. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, how are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. Dad already helped me put your things in my car, so we’re good to go.”

“Oh…alright.” Andy gives Harry a hug goodbye. “Have in Boston.”

“Thanks, buddy.” Harry stands up and puts his hands in his pockets.

“Boston?” Paige raises an eyebrow with a smile.

“He’s coming home with me.” You say.

“That’s great! Well, safe travels.”

“Bye, Y/N.” Andy hugs you and out the door they go.

“Did you know she was coming here to get him?”

“No, she texted me, like, two seconds after you went to class, sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting to see her.”

“You know, she mentioned a while back that she’d like to get together with you sometime…I think it might be a good idea for you to get to know her better.”

“Harry, no offense, but I don’t need to be best friends with your ex.”

“I’m not asking you to be, but you’re in Andy’s life, she wants to get to know you better.”

“Just a one on one thing?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll think about it.” You say and leave his office. He follows you into yours and you sigh.

“Do you have a problem with Paige?”

“No, of course not. I just don’t feel super comfortable getting together with her so she can grill me.”

“That’s not why she wants to meet up with you.”

“So, it wouldn’t be a couple of hours of her asking me a bunch of questions?”

“Well, you’d ask her questions too. I did the same with Noah, and I get along great with him.”

“I get along just fine with her.”

“You’ve been around her, like, four times.”

“And it’s been great every time, why rock the boat?” You shrug.

“Y/N…she’s the mother of my kid, she’s not going anywhere, and it would mean a lot to me if you got to know her better, alright?”

“Alright…maybe once the semester is over she and I could get together for lunch or something.”

He smiles at you and kisses your cheek.

“You’re the best.”

“Someone has to be.” You sigh and it makes him laugh. “Did you want to just stay at my place tonight so we can leave from there tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sounds good. What time do you want me over?”

“Seven?”

“I’ll be there.”

Harry: what should I pack for clothes, how fancy is dinner?

You: I’ll just be in jeans a blouse, wear what makes you comfortable

You thought it was sweet that Harry was a little nervous to meet your family. They weren’t scary people, but you were the baby, and you knew that came with a lot of questions. Harry comes over a little after seven in some joggers and a long sleeve shirt, and a couple of bags.

“Mm, smells good in here.” He says, kissing your cheek.

“I just finished baking what I need to bring.”

“I made a pumpkin pie to bring, could I stick it in the fridge?”

“That’s so sweet! Of course, go right ahead.”

You take his bags and bring them into your disaster of a room. You hadn’t been very good at putting your laundry away once it was folded, nor were you good about getting your dirty laundry in the hamper. You sigh and start running around to tidy it up.

“I thought you did chores once a week?” Harry chuckles as he stands in the doorway.

“I…haven’t been making much time for it with all the work I need to do. And then I come in here and it’s just too overwhelming. Everywhere else is fine though.”

“You know, having a messy room can cause just as much anxiety before you go to bed because you get reminded of the stress-“

“Har?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t need a lecture from you on my messy bedroom, okay?”

“Wasn’t giving you one.” He raises his hands in defense. “Don’t feel like you need to clean it just because I’m here either.”

“No, I don’t wanna come back to a mess, just…go watch TV until I’m done in here, it’s mostly just laundry.”

“I can help if you want.” You make a face at him. “What? I could throw a load in for you, or help you put things away.”

“You can help by just giving me a minute. I’ve been trying to reconfigure things, I may buy a larger dresser soon.”

“Why? You could just go through get rid of what you don’t need. Perfect time of year to do it.”

“I did that already…” You bite your bottom lip. “I was thinking…well…you come over a lot, and I’ve been trying to clean out a couple of drawers for you so you could just leave some weekend clothes here if you wanted.”

“R-really?” He looks at you like a wide eyed puppy.

“Yeah, we’ve been together five months, I think it makes sense to give you a drawer, I even made room in my bathroom for you, come look.” You tug him into the bathroom “I put up this rack so you could leave some shaving stuff or whatever you usually bring. If you’re comfortable with it.”

“You won’t mind my stuff crowding you?”

“No, if anything it’ll be like you’re here when you’re not here.” You say quietly and look at him. “I leave things at your place, I want you to leave things here.”

Harry tilts your chin up to look at him and he kisses you. He never had a relationship like this before. Well, he sort of did this with Paige, but it was different. He thought it was so sweet that you wanted these pieces of him around, and he knows he should do the same for you.

“Next time you’re at my place, there will be a drawer and some closet space for you.” He smiles. “I’ll go watch some TV while you do your thing.”

“Thanks.”

Around forty-five minutes later you plop down onto the couch next to Harry, and sigh. He throws an arm around you and kisses your temple.

“What are you watching?”

“SNL’s Thanksgiving clip show.”

“Oh fun!”

“What time do we need to be on the road tomorrow?”

“Not terribly early. Today’s the big travel day, I didn’t hit any traffic last year. We can leave around eleven.”

“Amazing. I don’t mind getting up early, but it’s nice to not have to sleep in on our days off.”

“I agree.”

You both shift so you can lay on top of him. He rubs your back, and you both giggle over the funny sketches. You pull a blanket over the two of you, and just get really cozy.

“I’m excited to be going overnight with you in the city. Where are we going Friday?”

“I thought we could take the T to Faneuil Hall and do some shopping, and then we could go to the North End for food.”

“Sounds good to me. Is there anything specific I need to know about your family before I meet them?”

“Not really…my parents can be sort of abrasive, but they mean well. Phil and Julian are pretty chill.”

“How long have they been together for?”

“God, like…six years I think.”

“That’s nice.”

“They’re a great couple. I think everyone will like you, Harry, nothing to worry about.” You lean up and kiss his forehead.

He cups your cheeks and pulls you closer to kiss your lips. You skootch up his body, and his hands slide down to your ass. You bite down on his bottom lip briefly before pulling away.

“Can we be lame and just go get really cozy in bed?” You say.

“Not lame at all, I’m pretty tired from all the grading I did this afternoon.”

You get off him and you both do your nightly routines before getting into bed.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is your bed so warm already?”

“Oh! I turned my heated blanket on before I came out to watch TV with you. Nice and toasty, right?”

“Very.” He chuckles. “Now turn over so I can have that booty.”

“Harry.” You laugh, but do as he says, and adjust right into him. His leg goes right over your hip like always, and he holds you nice and close.

“I’m so glad you like sleeping like this, I don’t know what I’d do.” He chuckles into the back of your head.

“I know, could you imagine if I wasn’t to feel crushed while I’m sleeping?”

“Y/N.” He laughs.

“For real, I sleep so well with you.”

“Me too.” He nuzzles in closer. “Maybe when I get back from London you could try sleeping over on school nights.” You turn over to face him immediately.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah…wouldn’t be so weird, would it?”

“How would Andy feel about it?”

“He asks all the time why you don’t just spend the night when you have dinner with us. We could try it out and see how it goes.”

“With you in London for a few weeks, what does he do for school?”

“Oh, Paige just drives him back and forth.”

“That’s not annoying?”

“She really doesn’t mind it, it’s just extra time to spend together. It’s only two weeks for him to deal with it.”

“I could…help with rides if need be…or if he misses the house at all I could always stay over there with him.”

“Oh, so you’ll have sleepover with him without me?”

“I’m just saying, I can be helpful.”

“I appreciate that.” He kisses you. “So, will you try sleeping over some night when I get back?”

“Yeah, as long as he’s okay with it, we can give it a try. I wouldn’t mind carpooling.”

You kiss again, and you turn back over so he can spoon you. Five months together, and things were going so well.

The next morning your alarm goes off at 8:30. You turn it off quickly, and when you try to get up Harry clings to you tighter.

“Harry.” You giggle. “I need to shower.”

“But you’re so cozy.” He groans.

“You know how long it takes me to blow dry and curl my hair, please let me get up.”

“Alright.” He sighs. “But I’m going in there with you.”

“Oh, you are?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Mhm, gonna fuck you in there.” He grins at you. “If you want.”

“Hmmm.” You pretend to mull it over, but you grin back at him and nod.

Now, typically, you wouldn’t just let a guy stick it in, and trust his pullout game, but condoms in the shower never felt good, so you and Harry may have agreed that shower sex was the one time he didn’t need a condom. The first time you did it like this, not too long ago, you nearly cried from how good it felt it really feel him inside you.

“Oh, fuck, right there, Harry!” You moan out as he thrusts into you from behind, his skin slapping against yours. You reach back to squeeze at his arm as you come undone, and he pulls out shortly after to come on your ass. You both sigh with relief.

“Feel like horny teenager with you sometimes.” He chuckles as he starts to lather up his body.

“Me too.” You start washing your hair.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“I know you said you got off the pill because it didn’t make you feel good, but…are there other birth controls out there that don’t fuck with you?”

“Yeah, they’re called condoms.” You say as you put some conditioner in.

“Y/N.” He rolls his eyes and steps into the water once you’re done rinsing your hair.

“I mean…I know there’s an IUD that doesn’t mess with your hormones, but the procedure is a tad invasive, and it probably wouldn’t even be in there that long.”

“Why’s that?” He scrubs his own head so he doesn’t see your face flush.

“I just mean, like, I don’t know, what’s wrong with what we’re doing?”

“Nothing…I guess selfishly it would be nice to do it like this all the time, and not have to worry.” He looks at you. “You done?” He asks as he reaches to turn the water off.

“Yeah.” You pull the curtain and get toweled up, and hand him his. “I get where you’re coming from with that…I just…selfishly I don’t wanna compromise on it. If you’re worried about pulling out, then we don’t need to fuck in the shower like this. We can just go back to what we were before.”

“But I like fucking you in the shower like this.” He pouts and puts his hands on your hips. “You won’t even think about going on something?”

“I’m sorry, Harry…I don’t want to.”

“Alright.” He sighs. “I get it, I suppose. Condoms it is.” He kisses your forehead and leaves you to do your hair.

When you finish with your hair, you don’t see Harry in your bedroom. You go into the kitchen and see him fully dressed, getting some peanut butter on toast.

“Here, a light breakfast.” He smiles.

“Thank you.” You kiss his cheek, and take a bite of the toast. “You look handsome.” You smile at him and he smiles back.

“I’m gonna go call Andy while you’re finishing up. Do you mind if I use your office?”

“Not at all! Go right ahead.”

You finish up the toast and then go back into your room to finish getting ready. You put on a pair of black jeans, and a blue long sleeve blouse, and then go into the bathroom to put a little makeup on.

“Y/N?” Harry pops his head into the bathroom.

“Yeah?” You giggle.

“Andy wants to wish you a happy Thanksgiving.”

“Oh!” You reach out for the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, Y/N!”

“Hi, Andy, happy turkey day.” You smile.

“You too! You and Dad are going to Boston for a couple of days, huh?”

“That’s right! Want us to bring you back anything special?”

“That depends…where are you going?”

“We’re going to be where a ton of Italian restaurants are, which means Italian bakeries. Would you like a fresh cannoli brought back to you?”

“I think I’d like you forever if you did that.” He laughs and so do you.

“Then I think that can be arranged.”

“Okay! Sorry, Mum wants to talk to Dad…”

“Oh! That’s fine, it was nice talking to you.” You hand the phone back to Harry. He was smiling ear to ear.

“Hey, yeah, he is polite isn’t he?” Harry chuckles and steps out of the bathroom. When you come out to the living room he’s sitting on the couch reading.

“All set?”

“Yeah, was just waiting for you. You’re good to go?”

“Mhm, would you carry the food down to the car for me?” You say, putting your jacket on.

“Yup, I’ll grab our bags too.”

“Thank you.” You give him a quick kiss and out the door you go.

You didn’t have an automatic start on your car and you wanted to warm it up a bit. Harry brings everything down to the car, and off you go towards the highway. He keeps a hand on your thigh as his other hand’s fingers drum along to whatever music you’ve put on. You liked that even when you were the one driving he still had a hand on you.

“I can drive us back tomorrow if you’d like.” He speaks up.

“That’s okay, it’s really not that long of a drive. Hour and twenty, max.”

“Takes me two hours to get to Boston…”

“You, my darling, drive like a grandma, that’s why.” You smirk.

“I do not!” He laughs. “I’m careful.”

“You don’t go over seventy…”

“That’s the speed limit! And you know as well as I do the state police up here pull everyone over.”

“You know what’s funny? I got pulled over before I got my NH plates, now I never get pulled over. I do eighty on the highway up here, and that’s perfect.”

“It’s too fast.”

“No, going ninety would be too fast. Just wait until we’re really driving in the city, you’ll be amazed at my swiftness.”

“You mean at your aggressiveness.”

“It’s called being a defensive driver. Maybe when Andy gets older I should be the one to teach him how to drive, or else we’ll have two grannies on our hands.” You throw him a cheeky grin and he just rolls his eyes at you.

“He’s never going driving with you unless I’m there too.”

Harry would never admit it, but he really liked it when you’d drop little hints that you were in this for the long haul. It would be years until Andy would be able to get his permit, and yet, here you are, thinking ahead about it. It was something you did once in a while, even this morning, Harry picked up on it when you mentioned how pointless an IUD would be. It was too soon to talk about kids and stuff, but he knew that was where your head was at, and it made him feel really good.

“You teach him how to park a car, you’re way better at that. I’m such a nervous parker.” You laugh. “One time I had to drive my boss to a conference we were both going to, and I had to park in a garage, and you know how narrow those spots can be. I told him I was nervous at parking, and he covered his eyes so I could park the car. He was such a sweet man, had kids my age at the time.”

“Would you like for me to do that from now on? Cover my eyes so you can park your car?” He chuckles.

“I wouldn’t hate it.”

“Why do you get so nervous?”

“I have my dad to thank for that. He’d watch me back out of the driveway just to make sure I didn’t run over the grass, it was so annoying.”

“Ah, a very dad thing to do. Grass is really important to us, you know? If you’ve got a shitty lawn it reflects poorly on you.” He smirks.

“Oh, shut up.” You roll your eyes. “You both can bond about going to Lowe’s on the weekends and looking at planks of wood.”

Harry bursts out laughing because that is definitely something he’s done before.

“I don’t just look at planks of wood, I also often go and look at the different types of mulch.”

“Do you ever bring a tape measure with you?”

“Keep one in my trunk, actually. Never know when you’ll need to take measurements for something.”

“Jesus.” You laugh and shake your head. “When you become a dad is there like an initiation ceremony where you get a bunch of that stuff?”

“Oh, sure, but it’s top secret. I’ve said too much already.”

You giggle at him. You were happy long car rides were never awkward with Harry. You could joke around, and then also sit in a comfortable silence. Today was going to be a good day.

Phil lived in a really nice condominium in the newly renovated areas of Southie. Harry was impressed that a sous chef could afford such a nice neighborhood.

“It’s kind of sad because this used to be where more of the affordable housing was, and then it got really gentrified. In their spare time, Phil and Julian try to help out and volunteer their time to help the people that got pushed out.”

“Wow, good for them.”

Harry helps carry the food as you key into the building, and lead him towards the elevator. You knock on the door before going in.

“Hello!” You say brightly as you both walk in.

“Hey!” Julian says, giving you a hug and kiss. “Come on in, Phil’s just basting the turkey. Hello.” He smiles at Harry.

“Hi, nice to meet you.” They shake hands, and Julian takes the food from him.

“Oh! A pumpkin pie, just what we needed, thank you.”

“No problem.” Harry smiles. You hook your arm around his waist as you walk further into the home.

“Hey!” Phil says coming over to the two of you. He gives you a hug and shakes Harry’s hand.

“This is Harry.” You say.

“Nice to meet you, man. Heard a lot of good things.” Phil smiles.

“Nice to meet you too. This is a great place.”

“Thanks! Been here for, like, what…three years?” He asks Julian.

“Yup! Almost three and a half. Got for a steal at the time.”

“Are Mum and Dad here?” You ask.

“Yeah, in the living room. Go and get comfortable, everything’s still cooking. They’re watching the parade.”

You nod and lead Harry into the living room.

“Mum, Dad, we’re here.” You say and they both get up to say hello. “Harry, this is my mum, Rebecca, and my dad, Richard.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you both.” He shakes both of their hands.

“Finally!” Your mom nearly squeals and throws her arms around Harry, and gives him a nice, wet kiss on the cheek. “It’s so good to meet you, Harry. We were starting to think you were made up!”

“Mum…I’ve shown you pictures.”

“You’re awfully good at that photoshop nonsense, could have just been edited.” She scoffs. “You’re very handsome.”

“Um…thank you.” His cheeks were incredibly red.

“Where’s your son today?” Your dad asks and you want to smack him for diving right in.

“Oh, he’s with his mum and her family today. She’s not from the U.K. like I am, so she actually celebrates Thanksgiving, I just observe.” He jokes, but it doesn’t land, so he clears his throat. “It’s just part of our custody agreement, I get him for Christmas.”

Your parents share a look, and then both smile at Harry.

“Your brother put out some munchies until dinner’s ready.” Your mom says. “Come, sit, I know the drive was long.”

“It wasn’t too bad, not much traffic to complain about.” You say as you stick a carrot into some dip. “Can I get you a drink, Har? Phil’s got beer and wine.”

“Just a beer would be great, thank you.”

You smile and go into the kitchen. He almost wishes he followed you because your parents stay looking at him. He was wearing a nice button up, so his tattoos weren’t overly exposed, so it couldn’t be that.

“So, how old is your son?” Your mom asks.

“Eleven, he’ll be twelve in May. His name is Andy.”

“Is it short for Andrew, or is it just Andy?” Your dad asks.

“It’s short for Andrew.” Harry smiled. “Andrew Jacob Styles.”

“What a lovely name.” You mom smiles. “Is he named after anyone?”

“Um, Jacob is a family name on his mum’s side, and Andrew was just a name with both really liked.” He shrugs. “Nothing more to it than that.”

“You’re still close with her, his mum…” Your dad notes.

“Sort of. We do the co-parenting to the best of our ability. Living close by helps with that.”

“I think it’s nice you can get along so well. We have some friends who have divorced, and they can’t stand each other. I feel terrible for the kids, they get caught in the middle, unfortunately.”

“Well, my ex and I were never ma-“

“Here were are.” You say, handing Harry a beer, a glass of red in your other hand. “How’s the parade?” You ask sitting down next to Harry.

“Y/N, you interrupted our conversation.” Your dad says. “Harry was just explaining to us how his co-parenting works.”

“Dad…I don’t think Harry really wants to talk about that right now, okay?”

“It’s alright.” Harry says. “I know it must be a tad odd for your daughter to be dating someone with so much baggage, I get it.” He takes a sip of his beer. “I was young, accidents happen, but I wouldn’t change a thing.” He puts his arm around you and sits a little more comfortably.

“Well, we hope to meet little Andy at some point.” Your mom says. “Maybe this summer we can come up for a little visit, Y/N.”

“Yeah, maybe.” You smile and lean into Harry. “He’s so sweet, and funny. He’s a really talented painter too. He’s decorated some things in my office for me.”

“Wow, that’s a big deal. You wouldn’t even let me help decorate.” Your mom chuckles.

“Because your taste is terrible, Mum, no offense.” You grimace.

“She’s right, Becky.” Your dad laughs.

“Oh, what do you two know?” She stands up. “I’m going to see if Phil needs help.”

You and your dad laugh a little.

“Good, now I can switch it to football. I actually don’t give a fuck about the parade.” Richard says. “Pardon my French.”

“No worries.” Harry says. “I don’t give a fuck either.” He grins and it makes your dad laugh.

Okay, despite the bit of awkwardness at the beginning, this was actually going pretty well. You knew your parents had their reservations with Harry, but they didn’t seem too put off. After an hour or so of watching football, everyone is called to the dining area for dinner. The spread looked incredible, your brother outdid himself. He and Julian sit at the heads of the table, and then you and Harry sit across from your parents.

“Before we dig in, I just want to say how thankful I am that we could all be together today.” Phil says. “This is the first year I didn’t have to work, so we were able to do this at a normal hour like other families. It’s nice having to wait until nearly eight o’clock.” He smiles. “Two is much better. Enjoy!”

Everyone hums in agreement, and take what they want. Phil made plenty of veggies and other meatless options for you and Harry.

“Harry, how long have you been a professor for?” Julian asks once everyone has what they want.

“Um, like, ten years I’d say. I taught while I was getting my master’s, so I count that. Got my PhD a little over four years ago, though.”

“Very cool, and did you know you always wanted to be a teacher or…?”

“Honestly, no.” He chuckles. “But I really liked what I was studying and researching, and I knew I wanted to keep doing that, and so when I was getting my master’s and became a TA, I fell in love with teaching. I don’t think I could do it at a K-12 level, but I really like teaching at a collegiate level.”

“That’s exactly what Y/N always says.” Phil says.

“It’s true! I don’t think I could teach young kids, but I really like the college kids. Especially the upperclassmen, they’re a tad more mature.”

“Harry, how did you end up over here in the states?” Your mom asks.

“Ah, well, I was looking to study abroad. I went to a school in London my freshman year, and I liked it, but I really wanted to branch out, so I ended up in New York for school. I loved it.”

“And…now you live in New Hampshire?” Your dad asks.

“Yeah, so, when I was looking for master’s programs I was looking for schools in that area because, um, my ex’s grandparents lived in the lakes region, and we needed a bit of help. Her parents live in Connecticut, and there weren’t any schools I wanted to go to out there, so I ended up at UNH for that. The drive to Manchester every day wasn’t fun, but it made things easier to have her family closer by. It was a decent compromise. I almost moved to that area full time, but her grandparents passed away, and she had to take their home over, so I ended up at our university for my doctoral program so I could stay close to my son.” He takes a sip of his drink. “I fell in love with area. I got into hiking and some of the other outdoorsy stuff there is to do. It’s home now.”

“And your family, they’re in the U.K.?” Phil asks.

“Yeah, my mum and sister both live in London. Mum’s retired and lives with my sister. She’s married with a couple of kids, so she may as well be a live in nanny.” He chuckles. “I bring Andy home to see them for Christmas, and sometimes they come to visit in the summer.”

“So, do you have dual citizenship or just a work visa?” Julian asks.

“He wouldn’t need that since he married a U.S. citizen.” Your dad says.

“See, I was trying to explain earlier, we never got married.” Harry explains. “Um…so, yeah, I have dual citizenship. I was here on a school visa for a bit, and then I got the work visa, but I knew I was stayed so I went through the citizenship process. It was a real bitch, I have to say.”

The table laughs and agrees. The conversation turns to politics, only briefly, and then goes back to light chatter. Once dessert is out and eaten, everyone is stuffed. You and Harry help clean up, and then your parents leave shortly after. Everyone feels like they can take a deep breath now.

“So you two are staying at Julian’s hotel, yeah?” Phil asks.

“Yup, why?” You raise an eyebrow.

“How about we meet you guys in the city, and we go to that bar we all like?”

“That sounds great! Meet us there around eight?”

“Works for me.”

“That work for you?” You ask Harry.

“Yeah, sounds like fun.” He smiles.

Once you’re checking into the hotel, you head to the elevator, and go up to your room. Harry notes how nice the hotel is, and you agree. Julian was a really good manager, and did well to make sure that the place ran smoothly. You key into the room, and you both plop down on the bed with a big sigh.

“I’m stuffed.” Harry says with a slight chuckle.

“Same here.” You look over to your bag and tug it towards you, rummaging through it and pulling out a small purple bottle. “Um…so…usually we each have two different bathrooms to use when we have sleepovers, or maybe…we don’t tend to use the bathroom in a certain way, but that’ll be different tonight so I brought this.” You show him the small bottle. “So…we can just use the bathroom and not feel embarrassed.”

Harry smirks and takes the small bottle to read it.

“Poo-perize…” He looks at you.

“You just spray it before you go, and it’s like you never went at all.”

“Ah, well, good thinking. I wouldn’t want you knowing that I took a shit.”

“Harry.” You groan and snatch the bottle from him.

“Are you telling me you’ve never shit at my house in the five months we’ve been together?”

“I…have…just not a lot. I don’t know, I’m not good with other people’s bathrooms. I’m just gonna go stick this in there.”

You get up while he shakes his head and laughs at you. You come back out and lay down next to him on the bed.

“I’m gonna tell you something I told Andy when he was about two years old.” He says to you.

“What’s that?”

“Everybody poops.”

“Gah!” You exasperate. “I know that, obviously, I just don’t want you thinking about me doing it…”

“It’s not like my ear’s gonna be pressed up against the door!” He laughs. “Lighten up.” He pulls you to rest your head on his chest and he kisses you on the top of your head.

“Did you have fun earlier? I hope my parents weren’t too invasive.”

“They were fine, I totally understood why they were asking what they were asking. I know it’s odd for someone my age to have a kid in middle school.”

“I just don’t want you to think they were judging. I actually think they really liked you.”

“I’m glad to hear it. It’ll be nice for them to come visit in the summer. Maybe we could all go to the cabin.”

“God, they would love that, babe.” You snuggle further into him.

After resting for a while, and using the bathroom, you both head down to meet Phil and Julian at a bar down the street. You all grab a booth and start a tab for drinks.

“So, this is where you all go when you visit?” Harry asks you once the drinks are on the table.

“Sort of, this is where I come with them.”

“Y/N has probably been to every bar in this city.” Phil laughs.

“You’re gonna make me sound like an alcoholic!” You laugh. “When you go to school in the city, you gotta find the good places to go. All trial and error.”

“You also had a really good fake ID.” Julian smirks. “Remember when we took her out for her twenty-first, and the bartender practically scolded her?” He laughs.

“Oh my god, he was so mad at me.” You take a sip of your drink. “There was this one place I had been sneaking into for years, and I wanted my twenty-first birthday party to be there, and I had been pretty friendly with the bartender, right? So I had him my new ID, and he, oh my god, I thought he was gonna flip his shit.”

“He gave you free shots though, so he couldn’t have been too mad.” Phil winks at you and you just shake your head.

“Yeah.” You roll your eyes.

The reason the bartender had not flipped out, thrown you out was because you promised a very a good blow job in the bathroom on his break. You had delivered, and then he gave you free shots all night, and you ended up going home with him to further explore after said blow job, but you weren’t about to expose yourself to Harry like that. You didn’t want him to think you were immature, even if it was something that happened years ago.

“Must be nice to have grown up in a place where the legal drinking age is eighteen.” Julian says to Harry.

“Yeah, it was pretty sweet that last year before going to uni. My friends and I would go to the clubs, get in a bit of trouble.” He chuckles after taking a sip of his drink. “I’m kind of glad I came to America for the rest of school, I think it helped me settle down a bit.”

“I studied abroad for culinary school,” Phil starts, “mostly in France, but when I would go out with my friends it would definitely get wild. It was a culture shock to start the evenings so late! We wouldn’t leave until midnight sometimes.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly how it is, and we’d stay out until after four in the morning most times.”

“That was the first time I saw hard drugs being used so casually. People just doing lines in the bathroom and stuff. It happens here too, but it was way less taboo over there.”

“Phil, did you ever…?” You ask him.

“God no, I mean, I smoked share of weed, but I never did anything more than that. I was too afraid of being fucked up while chopping something in the kitchen.”

“Did you?” You ask Harry. You were more curious than anything.

“Yeah.” He says casually with a shrug. “Like I said, I’m glad I came here to finish school.”

“Holy shit, what did it feel like?” You gaze up at him. “I’ve never done anything like that, I’ve never even gotten high…”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He gives your hand a squeeze. “It was so long ago, I don’t really remember, honestly. You just sort of feel happy and out of it.”

“Y/N, you never smoked or did an edible or anything?” Phil asks, almost shocked.

“I mean, I’ve been hot boxed before, but that’s it. I just stuck to drinking.” You laugh. “I was too scared, I didn’t know if I would be one of those people that would freak out or have a bad trip or something.” You finish your drink and so does everyone else.

“Does everyone want the same thing? I can go up and get the next round.” Harry offers.

“That’d be great.” Julian says, and you and Phil nod. Harry gives you a quick kiss before getting up to go to the bar. “He’s dreamy, Y/N, I don’t know how you get any work done.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what type of guy I was expecting, but I’d let him leave marks on me too.”

“Phil!” You giggle. “I’m glad you both like him so far. He’s amazing.”

“And things are still good between you and his kid?”

“Yeah! Andy really likes me. I think it helps that he had time to get used to me a little when Harry and I were just friends. Something tells me Harry had mentioned he had a little crush on me to him though because there was this one time Andy texted me from Harry’s phone to ask me to come get ice cream with them.” You giggle again. “It was so cute.”

“Little wing man, that’s sweet.” Phil nods.

“Sometimes I feel bad because you can tell he prefers to be with me and Harry, as opposed to his mum and soon to be step-dad…I don’t really get it.”

“He’s eleven, right?” Julian asks and you nod. “I get it. I was a total momma’s boy, and then when I started middle school, I wanted nothing to do with my mom, and it killed her. We fought all the time, and I found myself wanting to be with my dad more. Not even to talk, just being in his presence, you know? I think it’s puberty. I have a great relationship with my mom now. It’s just a phase.”

“Yeah, plus, it must be weird to have two father figures in your life. One’s telling you what to do, but you also wanna respect your actual father. Must be confusing.”

“Alright.” Harry says as he sits down with the four drinks. “What I miss?”

“Nothing, babe.” You smile and kiss his cheek. “These two were just swooning over you, that’s all.” You grin at your brother and his partner.

“Really? Well, I’m flattered.” Harry jokes.

“I have to know, do students, like, throw themselves at you?” Phil asks.

“Um, not so much anymore, when I was younger they did. A lot of them also know I’m spoken for now, so that helps.”

“It’s so awkward! Some of the senior boys I advise have tried flirting with me in our meetings, and I’m like…you’re kidding right? Keep your shrimp dick to yourself.” You take a large sip of your drink and sway your head to the music in the bar.

“I’d love to know what some kid could possibly even say to you in that setting.” Phil chuckles.

“They think they’re so adult, you know? It’s all in the body language. They adjust themselves, trying to get me to look down, and they’ll bite their bottom lips to be sexy, it’s repulsive really. But my problem is I bite my lip when I feel nervous so then they think it’s working, and then they’re shocked when I’m like actually you deserved a D on this.”

Phil and Julian laugh, but Harry doesn’t really like the sound of anyone flirting with you.

“You know, you can report that if it gets aggressive.” He says.

“Oh, it’s fine. They realize when I don’t give in that it doesn’t work, and they should just put the work in.” You see the concern on his face. “Don’t worry, if it was that aggressive I’d call H.R. right away.” You put your hand on his thigh and give it a squeeze.

“You know what I think we should after this? Go to an actual club. I feel like dancing and working off all that food.” Julian says.

“Ugh, I knew you were going to say that.” Phil groans. “I’m exhausted.”

“Can’t help it.” He shrugs and looks at you. “Y/N?”

“Fuck yeah.” You look up at Harry. “What do you say? You’ve never really seen me dance before.”

“That’s true, I could be up for that, although, I probably won’t do much dancing.”

“Good, I’ll have someone to hang back with while these two pop their asses.” Phil says and it makes everyone laugh.

Phil and Julian order an uber to take you and Harry to one of the lgbtq+ friendly clubs they knew of in a different part of the city. You had been there with them before so you were excited. You were also excited that Harry was being such a good sport.

You get into the club easily since the bouncer knew Phil and Julian well, and you all go up to the bar to get drinks. You decide on something fun and fruity while Harry opts for a gin and tonic. Wannabe by the Spice Girls comes on and Julian yanks you onto the dance floor.

“It’ll be hours before we see them again.” Phil chuckles and takes a sip of drink.

“You never dance?”

“Sometimes I do, but it’s not my favorite. I’m not very coordinated.”

“Neither am I! I look like an idiot whenever I dance.” Harry laughs. “But I suppose that’s half the fun.”

Harry peers into the crowd and smiles when he sees you and Julian shouting the words to the song to each other, and giggling. He watches as the two of you dance together and it makes him smile more.

“You two have been together a long time then?” Harry asks. “If you both took her out for her twenty-first?”

“Yeah! That was around the time we made things official. We met right before I went to Italy to do some more studying, and then when I came back we decided to really be together. He’s amazing, an incredible partner. He’s brilliant, honestly.”

“Are you two married, or…?”

“We’re in a civil union.” Phil shrugs. “We’ve talked openly about it, and neither of us really feel the need to get married, you know? We know we wanna be together, we don’t need a court or a piece of paper to lock it in. We each wear these rings.” Phil holds up his left hand. “See the one on my middle finger? That’s a promise ring he gave to me, and I gave one to him. That’s enough.”

“That’s really sweet.” Harry smiles.

“You have a lot of cool rings.” Phil takes one of Harry’s hands to look them over.

“Thanks! Started collecting them basically when I was nineteen. I’ve always really liked rings and bracelets.”

“And perfectly manicured nails?” Phil raises an eyebrow at him.

“Started doing that in uni. The crowd I hung out with was into black nail polish, I got into it too. It’s actually what helped me snag my ex.” He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Really?”

“Yeah, we were friends for a bit, and one night she got really drunk and she started crying because her nail ripped and she just wanted to take all the polish off and start over, and I told her I had stuff back at my room to do that, so I took her back with me and basically did her nails. I let her sleep in my bed and I slept on the floor, and then the next morning before I could even say anything she kissed me.”

“Oh my god, that’s like out of a movie.” Phil swoons, letting go of Harry’s hand. “But I think I like the story of the camping trip with my sister better.” He takes a sip of his drink. “Actually, I think I like that you casually brought her to a family party, and then brought her back to your place to watch the sunset.”

“Told her I liked her that night too, but I back peddled.” Harry chuckles.

“She picked up on that, but I think she chose to ignore it at the time. I’m glad she came to her senses.”

“Me too.” Harry smiles.

After a few songs, you come back to Harry, throwing your arms around his neck. Your fruity drink hitting you much faster than your others.

“Maybe just one more.” You slur.

“Or, and here me out, you could start drinking some water.” He tucks some hair behind your hair to keep it from your sweaty forehead.

“But-“

He dips his mouth to your ear to whisper.

“I’d like to have a little fun when we get back, and we can’t do that if you’re sloshed, babe.” He moves back to look at you with raises eyebrows and you nod. “Great, I’ll go get you some ice water.”

He returns shortly and you guzzle it down. Once you’re all set you make your way back to Julian. Harry taps his foot along with the beat of the song.

“Hey, handsome, can I buy you a drink?” A guy slightly shorter than Harry says to him brightly.

“Um, I’m so sorry, I’m here with someone.” He points over to you.

“Why aren’t you dancing with her then?!”

“He’s got a point, Harry.” Phil teases him.

“You’re not dancing with Julian!”

“Fair enough.” Phil finishes the rest of his drink and strolls over to join you and Julian. You both hoot and holler with excitement.

“Go on, pretty boy, go show your girl a good time.” The man winks and then walks away.

Harry sighs and makes his way over to you. Your eyes light up and your smile says it all. You’re absolutely delighted that he’s come over to you. You wrap your arms around his torso and press your cheek to his chest, swaying back and forth with him. His arms go around you and he rests his chin on the top of your head. It didn’t matter that the song was fast paced, you were happy to just be pressed up against him the way you were. You look up at him, smiling.

“What?” He smiles down at you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

It was a wonderful night out with Phil and Julian, but it had to end sometime, so you and Harry uber back to the hotel around one in the morning. You didn’t want to be too tired for whatever fun he wanted have with you.

“That was fun.” He says to you in the back of the car. “I like them, they were really welcoming.”

“I’m so glad! I figured you’d get along well since you’re around the same age.” You shrug.

“That club was fun too, got hit on by a guy.”

“You did?!”

“Yup.” He says proudly. “Called me handsome and asked me if I wanted a drink, but don’t worry, I told him I was there with someone.”

“Well, thank god, otherwise you’d be in an uber with someone else right now.” You say facetiously and he laughs.

“Should I be offended that you think I could so easily be swayed to leave with someone else?” He nudges you playfully.

“Nah, I’m just teasing. I know you wouldn’t do that.”

“Besides,” he leans in closer to your ear so the driver won’t hear, “the only tight, little hole I wanna fuck is yours.”

Your eyes grow wide and you feel a shiver go down your spine. You know that he’s referring to your other hole. His mouth had been on it enough times now for you to know he definitely wanted to have anal with you, but you weren’t sure of how you felt about it exactly. You could see him maybe using a finger or something, but his entire prick? Your thoughts are broken when you feel his lips on your temple.

You get to the hotel and head up to your room, hand in hand.

“Oh!” You say as you get inside the room. “I brought something to wear to bed, and I really wanna put it on for you.”

“You never wear anything to bed, though.” He chuckles.

“I know! I brought it special for the trip. I didn’t think we’d be out as late as we were. Please? It’s really cute.” You pout.

“It’s just gonna come off a minute after you put it on, but sure.” He smiles and sits on the edge of the bed. “I’ll humor you.”

You grab your bag and bring it into the bathroom with you. This also gives you a chance to just freshen up since you were sweating on the dance floor. You touch up your makeup, apply some fresh deodorant, and spritz a little bit of perfume onto your wrists, and dab a bit behind your neck. Next you take out the garments you wanted to wear for him. It wasn’t incredibly special, but cute nonetheless. It was a pastel purple set of silk pajamas. The top was tank top style with a little bit of lace where you cleavage would sit, and the bottoms were shorts that just show your under-bum. Class, but sexy. You brush your hair out so it looks less frizzy, and then peak your head out of the bathroom door.

“Ready for me?”

“Ready, babe.”

“Close your eyes.”

Harry sighs and closes his eyes. He had already taken his glasses off and put them away. His palms are pressed behind him on the mattress. You tip toe out of the bathroom and come to stand in front of him.

“Okay, open.”

His eyes flutter closed and then they widen when he looks you up and down. You twirl around for him and giggle.

“What do you think?”

“You look…lovely, Y/N.” His hands come up to rest on your hips. “When did you get these?”

“Not too long ago. I’ve been saving it for a night away where I’d maybe have excuse to change into something else.”

“S’very pretty. I love the color on you.”

You smile down at him and get yourself situated so that you’re straddling him. His hands slide down to your ass and he squeezes you. His hands then move up under the back of the top and then he drags his nails down your soft skin and your head rolls back. He takes the opportunity to sponge wet kisses up your jugular, and around to the crook of your neck. He licks up to just under your earlobe, and sinks his teeth into your skin. You gasp from the sensation, loving the way it feels. Your hands move to clutch at his shoulders as he creates a nice, purple mark on your neck.

“Fuck, Harry.” You breathe after he detaches himself from you.

“To match your pj’s.” He smirks.

A slight whimper leaves your lips, and then you start unbuttoning his shirt furiously. He helps you get it off him, and then you run your hands up and down his torso, making scratch marks of your own. You loved the way his stomach would tighten from the feeling of your nails. Your fingers work next to undo his belt and button on his jeans.

“Need you naked.” You kiss him. “Now.”

He nods quickly and you stand up to help him get his pants off. He kicks them to the floor as he works to get his boxers off as well. Once they’re throw somewhere you kiss him again, and work your way down his body. He opens his legs up more you and you plant kisses up and down his hard dick. You move to tease him a little, nipping at his inner thigh the way he would do to you. He cards his fingers through your hair, and makes a makeshift ponytail for you with his fist. You lick up his shaft with the flat of your tongue and the moan his lets out just eggs you on further. You kiss his tip before taking it into your mouth and you sink down on him, taking him as deep as you can before popping back off him.

Not that he ever thought of her while he was with you, but times like this Harry couldn’t help but compare you to Paige. She never did things like this for him. He always had to ask her to do it, and she’d only do it for a couple of minutes. She’d give him a hand job no problem, but she rarely would put her mouth on him, which made him sad because he had no problem doing it for her. You, on the other hand, would often initiate with him, and he loved that about you. Sometimes you’d be lounging on the couch or even just reading in bed together, and you’d look at him. He knew the look very well now, and he would just nod, and all of a sudden your mouth would be on him. Times like this it was just more confirmation that he was with the right person.

Blow jobs were things you didn’t particularly enjoy unless you really liked a guy, which is exactly what you told him when you first gave him one. If you were going to make a guy feel good, you wanted to make sure that guy was going to make you feel just as good, and Harry passed that test. Now, you loved pleasuring him like this no problem. Even when you were on your period, you didn’t care that you couldn’t have much in return unless you got in the shower.

You lick over his slit and moan from the taste, which you didn’t particularly love, but just the fact that he was already leaking for you was enough for you to make the noise. You smear your bottom lip along his tip because you know he likes it sloppy, and you know his precome his bound to dribble down your chin. You look up at him and see he’s already watching you, chest heaving. You bring your face away, a string of spit keeping you attached to him before you lick over your lip and smirk.

“What?”

“Well…it’s just…I’m a little tired.” You look away and then back up to him, your grin growing. “So, what if I just put my mouth over you and you do the work?”

“Are you asking me to fuck your mouth?” He was being very serious.

“Yes, Harry.”

“Are you comfortable on the floor or do you want to get on the bed?”

“Maybe just hand me a pillow for my knees?”

He nods and quickly grabs a pillow from the head of for you. You get it situated to get yourself more comfortable, and you nod. He tightens his grip on your hair as you lower your mouth back around him. He starts by just easing you on and off, up and down. Your eyes flutter closed so you can focus on breathing through your nose. He bucks his hips up carefully to get a little further down your throat, and to help you adjust. You widen your throat as much as you can. You keep one hand on his thigh, and the other you keep in a fist, squeezing your thumb. An old trick you learned in college to help suppress your gag reflex. A placebo at best, but it worked.

“Oh my god, baby.” He groans as he really gets a rhythm going, bobbing your head up and down for you as he moves his hips. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

Your eyes flutter open and you do your best to look at him through your lashes, but all you can see are the ferns on his hips and love handles. You had drool and precome dripping down your chin, and you knew he had to be loving it. He was panting as he looks down at you, biting furiously into his bottom lip as to not disturb whatever neighbors were on either sides of the walls.

He was being extremely careful of you, which just turned you on more. It showed how much self-control he truly had to not just be ramming and thrusting his dick down your throat. Your nails are digging into his thigh, and you do choke on him at one point, but you’re okay. Eventually he has you come fully off of him.

“Don’t wanna come in my mouth?” You ask as you catch your breath and wipe your chin with the back of your hand.

“Not if you want me to fuck your cunt later.”

“Oh.” You blush. “Yeah, I want that.”

“Alright then.” He chuckles and helps you up. “Felt so good, baby.” He kisses your now swollen lips.

He lays you down on the bed, your head comfy on the pillows. He reaches between your legs and groans when he feels how wet you are through the silk shorts.

“Christ.” He breathes. “Taking this all off now.”

You nod and lift your arms up. He gets you fully naked and spreads your legs open. Just as you did with him, he kisses down your body, nipping where he pleases, and starts leaving more love bites on your inner thighs, causing you to squirm.

“Stay still for me, baby.”

“M’trying, sorry.”

You give him a soft smile and he gives you one back before he licks around your folds. You feel yourself almost go cross-eyed from the sensation. His teeth nip at your clit before he sucks on it, and he has to use one of his arms to hold you down because you’re just extremely sensitive tonight for whatever reason. His thumb replaces his mouth on your clit so he lick into you.

“Oh, god.” You moan. Your hands fly to his hair to tug on. “Harry.” You whimper and it’s music to his ears. It just makes him fuck you harder with his tongue. His thumb rubs perfect circles into where you need it most, and you feel your legs shaking around him. “Fucking, Christ!” You cry out as you start panting. You could feel your orgasm already approaching. He just knew exactly what to do, and it was incredible.

He pops up briefly to get some air, and then he looks at you, furrowing your brows.

“Wh-what is it?” You ask innocently.

“Would you…” He holds up his index and middle finger.

“Oh! Mhm.” You smile and open your mouth for him. He smiles back at you and brings his fingers to your mouth to suck on. You make eye contact as you lap and suck around him.

“Thank you, darling.”

Your heart flutters as he works his way back down between your legs. His fingers slide inside you while his mouth finds your clit again. His fingers curl up inside you, and you grip at the comforter on the bed. They pump and twist and pet you, and it’s all too much along with his tongue flicking at your clit.

“Ah! Fuck, Harry!” Your back arches off the bed, and your eyes roll into the back of your head. When he retracts his finger from you, you look at him, your eyes growing dark with lust. “Get the condoms.”

He nods and rummages through his bag for them, tearing one of them open, and sliding it onto his hard, throbbing dick. You put your hands onto his shoulders to brace yourself as he thrusts inside you. He buries his face into the crook of your neck as he rocks in and out. You get a fist full of his hair and rock your hips along with his.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He groans and looks at you, peaking his tongue out. You take the signal and let your mouth fall open so he can kiss you. It’s a searing kiss, needy, like he hadn’t kissed you in weeks. That was the thing with Harry, he always kissed you like he hadn’t seen you in ages, like he hadn’t touched you in ages. It was fucking fantastic.

“Harry, I’m gonna come again.” You whine. It was from the way you were grinding against him, otherwise you don’t think you would have had one again so quickly, not that you were complaining. He keeps everything the same so you can get there, and boy do you get there. He puts his hand over your mouth so you can cry out how you need to. You catch your breath and then you look up at him. “Let me ride you.”

He nods and pulls out, flipping on his back. You grip him to line yourself up once you’ve swung your leg over his lap. You sigh with relief once he’s inside you again. His hands work their way up your body to knead your breasts as move around on him in large circles. He looks up at you and starts chuckling.

“What could possibly be funny?” You ask, giggling.

“Nothing, I just like you a lot.” You pout at that. Since you said your I love yous, neither of you had made your like you a lot statement, and it filled your heart.

“I like you a lot too, Harry.” You lean down to kiss him, sucking on his bottom lip before returning up right.

“Gonna fuck me, baby?”

“Mhm, gonna fuck you so good.”

You start to raise and lower on him, his hands coming down to squeeze at your hips. Usually he would even up taking over, but he wanted to let you do it. He knew you wanted to do it, and you were so kind as to let him fuck your mouth earlier the least he could do was let you control the pace just this once. It also inflated his ego immensely to look up and watch your face like this. The joy you were getting from riding him was so delicious to him.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous like this, Y/N.” he squeezes harder at your hips, sure to leave bruises later, but you don’t care.

Your hands plant onto his thighs behind you as you continue to bounce up and down on him.

“Rub my clit, Harry, please.” You nearly whine.

He does so without question and you let out a loud moan. He could feel you squeezing around him and it was bringing him nearly over the edge. He could feel the ecstasy bubbling at the base of his spine.

“Baby, I’m not gonna last much longer.” He groans.

“Good, want you to come, let go, Harry.”

You feel his warm come fill up the condom, and the sensation along with his fingers rubbing on you guide you to your third release, causing you to collapse onto his heaving chest. He tilts your chin up and he smears his lips over yours.

After the long day and night you both had, neither of you were upset to have woke up at 10:15. You shower together, without any funny business, and get ready for the day. Harry furrows his brows at the booties you put on.

“What?” You ask him. “Don’t like ‘em?”

“No, they’re cute, it’s just…won’t your feet hurt walking around in them all day? I know you lived here and everything, but-“

“I promise, Daddy, if my feet hurt I won’t complain and if I do, you can say I told you so.”

“Y/N.” He sighs. “I hate it when you call me that so condescendingly, my express of concern isn’t me being fatherly, it’s me being your boyfriend who would feel terrible if your feet got all blistered.”

Your features soften, you didn’t realize how much your little joked bothered him.

“Oh…I’m sorry, um, these are actually pretty good for walking in. I wouldn’t wear them if I knew they’d hurt, but I appreciate you looking out for me.”

You give him a kiss on the cheek, and he grabs the bags. You check out, and grab a coffee from the complimentary section of the breakfast area, and put everything in the car.

“Julian said we could park here for the day no problem. We just need to talk to the green line stop, and we’ll be good to go.” You explain after locking the car back up.

You make your way to the green line station, and you just use your Charlie Card to get the both of you through, and onto the train that would get you Government Center. You were happy to be traveling with Harry. Sometimes when you were in town with people who didn’t understand the hustle and bustle of the T it could be frustrating, but Harry had the tube back in London, so this was second nature to him.

You almost feel giddy after coming off the train, and see The Quincy Market sign come into view. You tug at Harry’s hand to get him to walk faster towards the shops.

“There’s a Ray-Bans store here I wanna go to. They’re bound to have a sale right now. Oh! And there’s this store that sells really hot sauces I think you’ll like. Does Andy like graphic T’s? There’s a Newbury Comics here and I’d like to get him a gift from there.”

“For what? Thought you only promised a cannoli?”

“I did, but it would be for Christmas. Is that alright if I wanna-mph!” His lips were on yours, his hands cupping your cheeks. He was just overwhelmed with how much you cared about his son.

“Yeah, he likes graphic T’s.” He says it like he didn’t just shove his tongue down your throat, gently intertwining your fingers as you continue to walk.

You clear your throat and nod, giving his hand a squeeze. You go in and out of the shops. You note the sunglasses that Harry pays special attention to so you know which ones to get him for the holidays. You go into Sephora for a bit to look at the expensive makeup on one end of the store, and he looks at the foundation and concealer he would typically use. So much was on sale, you end up buying a ton of new brushes and sponges, and he gets the remover wipes he likes using. You go into spicy sauce store, and pick out a couple of bottles of things you’d each like to try, and then off to Newbury Comics.

“Do you shop at any of these clothing stores?” He asks subtly.

“Not really, I do StitchFix, why?”

“No reason.” He shrugs. Damn. He literally had no idea what to get you for the holidays. You bought yourself a new pair of sunglasses, and pretty much whatever else you needed. He was at a loss.

“So, what shows does he watch? I’d like to get him a shirt that’s relevant.” You say as you both make your way to the clothing section of the store.

“He’s really into Spongebob reruns at the moment, it’s been driving me nuts.”

“Seriously? That show is over twenty years old…”

“I know! He discovered it a few months ago, and he thinks it’s hilarious.” Harry sighs. “He also likes The Simpons, The Office, oh! He’s really into Malcom in the Middle right now.”

“How does even know about that show?”

“He found it on Hulu one night and he asked if he could watch it and I said okay. He loves it.”

“Hmm.” You tap your chin for a second. “I may need to go on Etsy then. I think I know of a shirt he would like, but I doubt they have it here.”

“You don’t have to go to so much trouble, Y/N. He’ll like whatever you give him.”

“That’s just it, I don’t want him to like it, I want him to love it.”

Harry thought his heart was going to burst as you looked around. You come to the section of the store with all of the different card games.

“Is he too young for Cards Against Humanity? Could be fun for him and Brandon.”

“Wee bit.”

“Alright…oh, what about What Do You Meme? That’s age appropriate, no?”

“Oh, he’s actually been asking for something like that. It’s a good stocking stuffer.”

“Perfect!” You snatch a pack. “This will also be from me.” You wink at him and keep looking around.

“What do you usually do for the holidays, anyways?”

“Well, whenever Hanukkah falls, I usually do something with my family, and then I lay low on Christmas.”

“Maybe during one of the nights of Hanukkah you could come over and the three of us could do something traditional with you.”

“I’d love that, Har.” You smile at him. “I could show you how to make homemade potato pancakes.”

“That would be a lot of fun.” He kisses your cheek.

Eventually you both walk over to the North End to get some Italian food for a late lunch/early dinner. You each enjoy raviolis and lots of bread. You make sure to stop off at one of the bakeries to grab some cannolis.

“You can just put these in your freezer, they should still be good when he gets home.”

“Sounds good, he’s gonna be so excited.”

You make your way back to the hotel garage and get into the car.

“Babe, let me drive, you’re tired.”

“No, I can do it.”

“Y/N.”

“Let me just get us through the city, and then I’ll pull over at the rest stop in Londonderry.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes.

You end up doing just that. You zip through the city, staying in the left lane the whole time, and then you pull over at the rest area. You let Harry drive the rest of the way, and he drives back to your place.

“Did you wanna stay over tonight? I could come to yours tomorrow, or if you’re sick of me we can-“

“Why do you always say that?” He chuckles. “I could never be sick of you.”

You beam at him, and you both get up inside your apartment. After you unpack your things, you both get into bed, and fall asleep quickly. It was the perfect Thanksgiving.

“Dad, these are so good.” Andy says, mouth full of cannoli Sunday night. “Y/N is the best.”

“I’ll pass the message on to her.” Harry smiles. “Listen, uh, how would you feel if she started staying over sometimes when you’re here?”

“I’d be okay with that, I don’t really care.”

“I just wanna make sure you feel comfortable with it. It’s okay if you don’t.”

“Dad, I really don’t care. I’d like it if she stayed here. I feel bad that she thinks she can’t. Then we could all have breakfast together in the mornings, that would be fun.”

“Yeah, it would. I’ll let her know you’re cool with it, thanks.”

“Thanks for asking first.”

“It’s your house too, not gonna make any big changes without consulting you.”

Later that night, as he’s crawling into bed, Harry texts you.

Harry: got the okay from the head of the house, you’re good to spend the night any time you feel comfortable doing so…he loved the cannolis btw

You: oh well, glad I was able to butter him up with those, lol why don’t we give it a try tomorrow?

Harry: are you just saying that because you know Mondays are baked ziti night????

You: what?! I’m offended! I want to come spend the night with you, it in no way has anything to do with your delicious, amazing, incredible, mouth watering baked ziti

Harry: god, you know what complimenting my food does to me 😈 😈 😈

You: goodnight, Harry

Harry: no!

You: yes

Harry: don’t do this

You: I’m so tired! You barely let me leave your bed this morning…need to catch up on sleep

Harry: everything we did today you wanted. I know because I asked and you said yes

You: very true! And now I’m telling you I’m going to sleep, I love you, I’ll see you tomorrow

Harry: alright, I love you too, sweet dreams, baby

The next morning, Harry gets up at 5AM to do his yoga in his bedroom, and then goes into the kitchen to get zome ziti boiled. It wasn’t a difficult dish to make, especially since there wasn’t meat in it, but Harry did use three types of shredded cheese, and he had a homemade marinara sauce. Once the ziti is cooked, he layers it all in a glass dish and sticks it in the fridge. It’ll go in the over to bake when he gets home later.

His next task is to shower, and get dressed before waking Andy up.

“Buddy, time to get up.” Harry comes in and sits on the edge of Andy’s bed. “Come on, sun’s up and everything.”

Andy groans like he does most mornings.

“Don’t gimme that. What do you want for breakfast?”

“Scrambled eggs, please.” He mumbles.

“Can do, now get up.” He takes the top blanket away and Andy groans louder, but it wakes him up enough to get out of bed.

Harry whips up some eggs for Andy and some peanut butter toast for himself, and sets it on the table. Andy comes out in jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt.

“Basketball’s gonna be starting in a bit, you must be excited.”

“Yup.” Andy smiles. “And winter program starts this Friday, I’m really excited for that. Do you think you’ll chaperone?”

“Probably. I’ll find a Friday to come out and help.”

“Y/N should come too.”

“I don’t know if she skiis…”

“How could she not in this area?”

“It’s not for everyone.” He shrugs. “I’ll ask her if she wants to come up to the cabin some weekend or something before having her help out with a bunch of kids.”

“Okay, fair point. Oh! You could teach her to ski, you’re a good teacher.”

“I’d have her take a professional lesson, Andy. It’s not as easy for adults to learn this kind of stuff as it is for kids.”

“You could still show her the basics.”

“Eat your eggs.” Harry rolls his eyes. “By the way, she’s coming for dinner tonight.”

“Of course she is.” Andy giggles. “It’s baked ziti night.”

“That’s what I said! Anyways, she’s gonna try staying over with us. Want you on your best behavior.”

“When am I not?” Andy scoffs.

“Hmm, let’s see…” Harry holds his hand up to start counting on his fingers.

“Okay, okay, I promise I’ll be good.”

“Thank you.”

It was a busy work day since it was the Monday after a short holiday break. You barely saw Harry, but you decide to leave him a little love note on his desk while he was teaching. You notice he left his phone on his desk. Something he rarely does, but it happens once in a while. You see it light up with a news notification, and you do a double take. His lock screen was a picture of the two of you. You pick it up and hold it closer.

“When did he…?” You trail off as you smile. It was a picture of you from one of your hikes. You’re looking up at him, smiling and sweaty, but smiling nonetheless.

“Y/N?” Harry says coming into his office. “What are you doing with my phone?”

“I…I was just leaving you a note, and it lit up…and…I didn’t realize I was your lock screen…” You hand him his phone.

“Of course you’re my lock screen, you have been for a while…”

“I guess I never noticed.” You look away. “I have a picture of the two of us as mine, see.” You show him your phone. “It’s from when we made that mess making waffles from scratch. Makes me smile every time I look at it.”

“Can’t believe I never noticed either…” He looks at the screen and then to you. He steps towards you. “You were leaving me a note?”

“Yeah, I…we barely saw each other today, and I know you need to get home soon, so I was just leaving you a little love note.”

“Oh.” He sets his things down on his desk and comes even closer to you. He tucks some hair behind your ear, his tell for wanting a kiss.

You lean up and he leans down and your lips press against each other. It doesn’t last long, you’re at work after all.

“Okay, well, I have some work to do.” You blush. “Um, I’ll be over by 6:30, does that work?”

“Works great.”

He watches you leave and he sighs dreamily as he gathers his things. He zips home and helps Andy with his homework before getting the ziti in the oven. You get over there around 6:30, with your overnight bag slung over your shoulder.

“Hi, boys.” You say as come inside after Andy answers the door.

“Y/N, those cannolis you got were so good. Thanks again.”

“Oh! I’m so glad you liked them, Andy.” You ruffle the hair on the top of his head and go to put your things down in Harry’s room before coming into the kitchen to give him a kiss. “It smells so good in here.”

“Just took it out of the oven, sit.” He smiles.

After dinner you’re itching to change into come comfier clothes, so you do. You put on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, one Harry gave to you, and you come out with your laptop to the living room.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“Nope, Andy?”

“Do your thing.” He shrugs as he flips the TV to Hulu to put Malcom in the Middle.

“Remember, two episodes and then you can go read before bed.” Harry reminds him.

“I’m fully aware, thanks.” He rolls his eyes.

“When I was your age, my bed time was 9:30, but CSI, the Las Vegas one, was on at nine, and I used to watch TV with my mom in bed every night, and CSI was on Thursdays, and so every Thursday we’d have the same fight because I had to see how the episode ended, you know? And then my mom would get so tired that she’d just let me stay up and finish it.”

The boys both look at you with wide eyes. You had a tendency to talk really fast when you had a story to tell.

“Dad says I can’t watch TV right before bed because then I won’t sleep well.”

“He’s right about that! I could never sleep after watching TV with my mom. She’d watch Date Line and scary shows like that.”

“If you were scared, then why would watch with her?” Andy asks.

“Well, my mom worked until eight most nights and I just wanted to spend time with her, so getting into bed and watching TV with her was my way of doing that.”

“That’s sweet.” Harry says, putting his arm around you.

After Andy goes to bed around nine, making sure to give you and Harry a hug, you both decide to get ready for bed as well. You do your routine, and chew on your bottom lip.

“What is it?” He asks he slides into bed with his book.

“Can I still sleep naked? Does he ever come in here?”

“Hmm, how about just a t-shirt? Grab any one of mine from my dresser.”

“Okay, fair enough compromise.”

You change quickly, and get into bed with a book of your own.

“This is nice.” He says, smiling at you. “Having you here on a Monday night.”

“Yeah, feels right.” You kiss his cheek and open your book to the page you dog-eared.

Even though Harry just wanted to ravage you, he knew that would probably have to wait until you showered in the morning. You did look awfully cute when you passed out with your book still in your hand. Harry takes it, saved your place, and sets it on the night table closest to you. He takes his glasses off and turns off the lights, then kisses your forehead before wrapping himself around you. You adjust into him and drift off fully.

You’re woken up abruptly around midnight by Harry’s phone buzzing. It goes off a few times so he finally turns over and grabs it.

“Oh, shit.” He says.

“What?” You mumble.

“Paige called three times, hold on.” He swipes his phone to call her back.

“Harry?!”

“Hey, what’s going on, is everything alright?”

“No…everything’s not alright.” She sobs.

“What happened?” Harry sits up fully. “What’s wrong, darling?” When he says that it makes you sit up. He was clearly trying to calm her down, but you didn’t like him using the term of endearment.

“My…my father died.”

#harry styles #office neighbors #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles series #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #singledad!harry #professor!harry

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t Take the Money

(cross-posted from my AO3 and based on the Bleachers song of the same name; you should give it a listen ‘cause it definitely shaped this story)

-vomit tw, depression tw, lots of angst and emotional whump with a happy ending, of course-

Jaskier had received six urgent messages in three weeks, each delivered by a different exhausted messenger in the same oddly familiar livery. They showed up outside of inns, in the corner of taverns, and one of them even had to trek through the deep woods to find their hidden campsite; Geralt almost felt bad for them. Almost.

After the seventh strange man appeared with a scroll for Jaskier, the bard didn’t even bother reading it. He merely tossed the rolled and sealed piece of parchment into a refuse pile on their way out of town and didn’t look back. Geralt picked it up when the bard wasn’t paying attention, letting his eyes scan the fancy, swirling script of the Viscountess Pankratz.

Julian Alfred Pankratz,

Return home immediately! Your wedding cannot be put off any longer! Lady Ainsley will not wait another month for your foolish adventures with that Witcher to come to an end. If you do not return for your wedding in three weeks time then you shall be officially disowned and your name will be stricken from the family records.

With Urgency,

Lady Pankratz

Geralt swallowed hard. Jaskier was betrothed? He was to be married in three weeks? But they weren’t anywhere near Redania. Or Lettenhove. Jaskier had never mentioned anyone by the name of Lady Ainsley before, or anything about his past if he could avoid it. Did that mean...?

“Why aren’t you going?” the Witcher asked. Jaskier whirled around, his eyebrow already raised in confusion; he went three shades paler than normal when he saw the limp paper hanging from Geralt’s fingers. “We’re not even remotely close to your hometown and we’re traveling in quite the opposite direction.”

Jaskier made a face and waved his hand dismissively.

“I know. I don’t want to marry her.”

“Why don’t you want to marry her? They’re going to disown you, Jaskier. Isn’t this” - he shook the letter for emphasis - “the life you’re used to living, anyway? You should go home and be with...with someone like you .”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Geralt? You think I belong with someone foppish? Loud? Annoying?” The bard was spitting mad already. The Witcher had touched on a sore spot, apparently. “Should I be with someone more breakable and human and petty?”

“Don’t you want- aren’t you-”

“C’mon big boy, use that fantastic Witcher brain of yours. Figure it out.”

Geralt didn’t understand.

“Wouldn’t you be happier with her than on the Path with me?”

Jaskier looked...hurt. His expression changed from indignant to heartbroken in the measure of time that occurred between split seconds. It did something awful in the Witcher’s gut. Something unfamiliar and painful. The bard’s next words were barely above a whisper. Even with his enhanced hearing Geralt had to focus hard: “Would you prefer me to be married off and out of your way?”

“No, that’s not what I-”

“I don’t even know what we’re even getting at here, Geralt. I’m sorry. I can return home if you’d like. If I send a messenger first thing tomorrow then the family’s hired mage can portal me back in time for the wedding.”

“Jaskier,” the Witcher was pleading. He didn’t know why or for what, but the pitch of his voice left room for no other possible interpretation. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“Then don’t ask me to marry her, Geralt.”

The Witcher dropped the letter back onto the refuse pile and shoved it deeper with the tip of his boot. Jaskier’s bright smile returned and the soft notes of his lute filled the air once again. For some inexplicable reason Geralt felt triumphant. As if he’d won a battle he didn’t know he’d been fighting against an enemy he’d never met before.

---

“Are you Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf?” a well-dressed stranger asked, approaching the table where the Witcher was seated. It had been a week since his and Jaskier’s argument over the summons. Neither one had brought it up again and the bard had seemed almost unusually affectionate since. The amount of casual touching they did had significantly increased, even when the sun set and it was growing close to bedtime. Jaskier seemed to be happy touching Geralt and the Witcher had no reason to complain; he liked knowing that his best friend wasn’t scared of him.

He regarded the messenger with a suspicious gaze, “Aye. I am Geralt of Rivia.”

“I have a contract for you.” The man slid a piece of paper across the table and folded himself into the chair across from Geralt’s. The pattern stamped into the red wax seal was familiar but the Witcher couldn’t quite remember where he’d seen it before. His strange visitor smiled benignly, “It doesn’t even involve killing.”

“Then why hire a Witcher? That’s kind of our schtick.”

“This agreement is of a more personal nature,” the man shrugged, leaning back in his chair and waiting for Geralt to read his missive. The Witcher took the delicate stationary in his large hands and unfolded it until he could see the printed words:

To Sir Geralt of Rivia,

Witcher and Friend of Julian Alfred Pankratz

We, the Pankratz Family, come to you and offer this agreement:

Return Julian safely to our ancestral home within two weeks and you shall be paid the sum of 1500 crowns. Consider it a bodyguarding mission, if you so desire.

You are also formally invited to attend the wedding of Julian Alfred Pankratz of Lettenhove to the Countess Ainsley DeStael of Rinde, which will occur three days after your mission ends.

In order to complete the job and claim your payment, however, you must leave the wedding party without Julian at your side and return to your Witcher duties alone. He isn’t cut out for such a hard life on the road. He is of noble blood and has responsibilities here at home. Please return him to his kind of people and claim your coin in recompense.

Sincerely,

Francois Reginald Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove

Constantina Charlotte Pankratz, Lady de Lettenhove

Geralt glanced up from the contract and out into the main dining room where Jaskier was currently jigging atop one of the surprisingly sturdy tables. The bard’s smile was bright, his voice was strong and clear as he sang of lovers meeting in secret, and his blue eyes twinkled with joy. He loved the attention of performing. How could Geralt take that away from him, even if he would be safer at home? Even if he would be married to another, spending his time with another, caring for another…

But didn’t Geralt care about Jaskier? Isn’t that why he’d risked life and limb over and over to keep the bard safe? Because Geralt loved him? He pushed the thought away with haste and tried to keep his expression neutral. His amber eyes strayed to the upturned hat at Jaskier’s feet. People had been depositing coins there all night and a rather decent pile had sprung up but -

But he could be doing better, Geralt thought. He could be taking a warm bath every night and buying expensive oils from real apothecaries and not sketchy traveling salesmen. He could be dressing in silk every day and never complain about having to wear a woolen doublet for warmth again. He could sleep next to a fire in a real feather-bed. With blankets. He could stay healthy and safe and never go near another angry monster for all his days.

Something in the Witcher’s heart withered and died when he realized just how much he’d been holding Jaskier back; something important. Something the bard had helped him cultivate over six long years of traveling together. In an instant the Witcher had hidden it away in a dark corner to die.

“Alright.”

“Huh,” the messenger smirked. “They thought it would take more bribery to get you to agree, Witcher.”

“It’s not about the crowns,” Geralt shrugged, gaze flitting back up to Jaskier. The bard’s twinkling cornflower-blue eyes met with his and Geralt quickly glanced away, already ridden with guilt and shame over his decision. “It’s about making him happy and keeping him safe.”

“If I didn’t know any better about your kind and their lack of feelings,” the messenger snorted, “I’d say you might even love the Little Lord Pankratz.”

“If I didn’t know any better about myself,” Geralt replied, “I might agree.”

“See you in two weeks, then. Hope you can make it to Redania in time.”

“Why not just portal us there? Jaskier said his family had a hired mage.”

“Busy with wedding preparations,” the man shrugged. “Anyway, I must be going. The Viscount and her Ladyship are eager to hear your reply. See you soon, I’m sure.”

The stranger stood, bowed, and disappeared back to Lettenhove with the signed contract. Geralt swallowed back a mouthful of bile. He hated himself. He really did. But this is what’s best for Jaskier.

---

“Who was that, earlier at the table?” the bard asked. He was lounging on the bed with a tin of lute polish in one hand and a rag in the other. “Did he have a contract?”

“Yes. In Redania, actually.”

“Oh, lovely! It’s almost time for the summer festivals to begin; I can show you the best alehouse in all of Novigrad while we’re there.”

“My job is near Lettenhove. Do you want to go with me?”

“Sure. Might be fun to swing by my old stomping grounds. This doesn’t have anything to do with my canceled wedding, does it?” the bard shot him a pointed look. Geralt schooled his features into some sort of passivity and shook his head.

“Vampires rarely attend the weddings of minor nobility,” the Witcher lied through his teeth.

“Vampires, huh? Nifty. Haven’t had one of those to write about in awhile.”

“Hmm.”

---

“Geralt, help! Geralt, please! GERALT!”

The Witcher tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He kept hearing Jaskier’s raw, heartbroken voice ringing in his ears. He could still smell the desperation and panic that clung to the bard’s soft skin as he struggled to get away from his captors. To get back to where the Witcher stood with Roach and the gatekeeper. Geralt kept imagining those eyes, those fucking beautiful eyes, brimming with tears of betrayal as a liveried servant handed him a velvet pouch stuffed fat with crowns. Oh gods, the way his bard had looked at him…Geralt shoved his head out the window and vomited. There was nothing but the sour sting of bile against his tongue and the back of his throat. He heaved in a breath but choked back the sob threatening to come with it.

“Please don’t leave me here, Geralt! Don’t take the money! I’ll be better, I promise! I won’t talk as much, I won’t touch Roach again, I won’t write any ballads about you, Geralt please, I lo-”

The guards had dragged Jaskier inside and slammed the heavy oak door shut before he could finish his sentence, but the Witcher had gotten the general idea. The bard thought he was doing this out of hatred and not out of the sincerest, purest love Geralt had ever felt. He thought this was a punishment and not a slightly backwards form of rescue. If only the bard could understand.

Jaskier’s love wasn’t unrequited.

The bard stole the very breath from Geralt’s lungs every time their eyes met. Every time Jaskier crowed with pride after finishing a new song about their adventures together the Witcher felt his icy heart melt a little more. Each casual brush of their hands as they walked side-by-side sent his emotions reeling. The way his exuberant bard looked as he strolled beside Roach, the sunshine bringing out streaks of dark red in his chestnut hair and lightening the embroidery on his travel jerkin, it was ethereal. Magical. Overwhelming in all the best ways.

And he’d given it all away for a measly pouch of a coin and a slightly clearer conscious. Or was it?

Geralt retched again as he came to another realization.

He had forced Jaskier into something he didn’t want. Geralt had always given his friend free reign. The younger man came on and off the Path like a bee between flowers, visiting and traveling with the Witcher when he pleased and leaving again for odd jobs or festivals when Geralt wasn’t in the mood for company. But he’d given him no choice about the marriage. No, he’d wrestled Jaskier to the ground and bound his hands. He’d gagged him. He’d flung the bard into Roach’s saddle and tied his crossed wrists to the pommel so he couldn’t pick the knots free and escape. He’d passed Jaskier off to the guards and watched them drag him away as he spit out the gag and started yelling.

As he confessed his love to Geralt after six long years on the Path together.

Fucking hells, what have I done to him?

The suddenly panicked Witcher tumbled from his rented bed and reached for his boots. There was no time to spare. There was no time to waste.

There was only Jaskier.

---

Jaskier couldn’t believe it.

After all this time. After all their adventures. After all the songs he’d written and rooms he’d gotten them at comfortable inns, this is how the Witcher repaid him. Trading him back to his parents for a bag of coin like he was some sort of slave or whore.

He was a bard.

He was Geralt’s bard.

Well, he used to be Geralt’s bard. Now he was going to be Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove and Lord of Rinde by marriage.

He wished he could just stop breathing and disappear. His heart thudded dully in his chest and it felt as if he was floating several feet below the surface of deep water. He was unable or unwilling to surface; maybe both. There was no point anymore, really. Geralt, the only person he’d ever really loved, had trussed him up like a market goose and traded him for silver.

The food his family’s servants brought him laid mostly untouched. He knew how to eat just enough to keep from dying. He’d been in plenty of dungeons and bandit camps before. Jaskier had spent six years following the Witcher’s Path and surviving off of whatever Geralt caught or he traded for. There was no reason to eat any more than what he needed to keep his body alive. There was no reason to get out of bed. Or bathe. Or change clothes. These clothes still smelled like the road. Like lute polish and chamomile oil and Roach and mud and Geralt.

“Please,” his mother begged, clasping his limp hand in both of hers. She’d been sitting at his bedside for maybe an hour, watching him stare listlessly up into the green velvet canopy above him. “Just eat something substantial. Say something. Do something, Julian. We know you aren’t happy with us or our decision but you can’t just lay here all day and wallow in self-pity. You have responsibilities to take care of; Ainsley has grown worried and her father is impatient.”

“The wedding is tomorrow,” he’d replied. There was no emotion in his voice and the monotony was soothing to his own ears. Geralt didn’t like it when he got too excited. Best to be calm and quiet like a good little noble. “I will be presentable. I will be at the altar. I will do my duty for the family.”

“Thank you, Julian.”

“But I will not love her.”

“You never have to love her,” his mother smiled. She gave his hand another small pat before standing and moving towards the door. Her job here was done, after all. “We only need you to marry her.”

---

Geralt pounded up the steps of the keep two-at-a-time. His usually slow heartbeat was now pounding in his ears like a warlord’s drum. He had to save Jaskier, he had to - the door slammed open and something hard went flying into his chest, knocking him back a step. The Witcher reached out a hand to steady the person he’d collided with but his amber eyes were still focused on the castle’s front door. He moved to step around the stranger and into the building when they suddenly spoke. The bard’s voice was pitchy and low from crying all morning: “Geralt?”

“Jaskier?” the Witcher gasped. His grip tightened around the younger man’s upper arm. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” Jaskier looked truly flabbergasted. His expression shifted from shock to anger quickly, however, and the hurt in those blue eyes nailed Geralt to the ground where he stood. “Am I OKAY? You absolute fucking moron; of course I’m not okay. The love of my life tied me up, handed me over to my horrible fucking family like a Beltane offering, and disappeared into the night with a fat bag of crowns. The one person I love most in this world, the only person I’d ever trust with my life or my lute, treated me like a transaction of some sort. I am very much not okay, Geralt of Rivia! Now pick me up, take me to Roach, and get me the fuck out Lettenhove before I have to marry that horrible, terrible, hideous woman!”

The Witcher cracked a smile. Jaskier jabbed a finger into his chest and frowned even more deeply. “Why the fuck are you smiling, Witcher?”

“Because I missed the sound of your voice.”

The bard blushed, his righteous anger faltering.

“I love you too,” Geralt added. Jaskier’s eyes somehow grew even rounder and more watery. “I’m so fucking sorry but I didn’t know how else to protect you. I thought that maybe after coming home and seeing how much nicer it was than being on the Path you might want to stay here and be safe. Live your life normally. I thought you’d be happier here than you were with me. You’d certainly wouldn’t be hurt as often.”

“Did you just say that you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Did you hear me say that I love you, mere moments ago?”

“Yes.”

“Then why the fuck would you try to get rid of me?” The Witcher tried not to flinch when Jaskier placed a gentle hand against his cheek. He’d expected a slap. A kick to the shin. A knee to the groin. Screaming. He hadn’t expected that look of soft understanding to dawn on Jaskier’s boyish face. Despite the knowing sparkle in his eyes, the bard’s voice was sad. “Caged birds never sing, Geralt. What an awful cage it would have been; I'd never see my handsome Witcher again. I'd never attend another royal wedding as entertainment. I'd never write another line of song, much less be able to sing it. I would have been miserable Geralt. I probably would have died much sooner here than I would on the Path.”

“Can you ever forgive me?”

“As soon as you do as I say and get me the hell out of here, then yes, I’ll consider forgiving you, Witcher.”

“Well I suppose we shouldn’t waste any time.”

Geralt flung the bard up and over his shoulder and took off back down the steps at a sprint. He wasn’t going to let those people have his darling Jaskier back. Not if they tried to cage him and take his voice. He knew better now. He understood.

They loved each other.

The bard was laughing brightly, bouncing along as Geralt made for the stables. He could see his family exiting the Great Hall and making their way in his direction. It didn’t matter. They’d never catch up with his Witcher. He shot them several naughty hand gestures and grinned widely when Geralt swung them both up into Roach’s saddle. “Sorry girl,” he apologized. “Time for our daring escape into the woods.”

---

"Fifteen hundred crowns, huh?" Jaskier asked, eyeing the hefty purple velvet bag.

"Actually there are only fourteen hundred left," Geralt shrugged. He reached into his saddlebag and brought out a small leather pouch, which he handed to Jaskier. The bard opened it, peered inside, and gasped in very genuine surprise.

"Geralt..."

"Do you like it?" the Witcher was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth in the cutest way. Jaskier wanted to answer but his heart was caught somewhere between his throat and his stomach so he couldn't quite form words. He nodded.

"Can you help me put it on?"

"There's no clasp. They aren't meant to have clasps."

"I know."

Geralt's heart soared as he lifted his gift for Jaskier out of the bag and lowered it over his head. The medallion rested just between his collarbones, framed by a tuft of the bard's chest hair. It was a copy of Geralt's wolf medallion, only this wolf held a flower in its mouth. Gently, as if unwilling to break the stem or let it go.

"It's perfect," the bard beamed. His eyes were watery and he blinked the tears free to keep staring at his new jewelry. "Thank you."

"Hmm."

"What do you want to do with the rest of the money?"

"I don't know," the Witcher shrugged. "Maybe go to the coast?"

"I've always wanted to go there!"

Geralt pressed a tender kiss against Jaskier's lips, reveling in the sensation of his bard melting against his chest. They'd spent the last few nights wrapped around each other, whispering secrets and stories into each others mouths until sleep overtook them. Tonight would be no different, except that now Jaskier felt truly safe. He felt loved. He felt utterly surrounded by the happiness that came with being on the Path next to his Witcher. "What are you thinking about, little lark?"

"I'm glad you came back for me. I'm glad we're together now."

"Hmm. Me too."

#geraskier fic #geraskier #geraskier fanfic #geralt x jaskier #geraskier whump #geralt of rivia whump #jaskier whump #geraskier hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #geralt/jaskier #emotional hurt/comfort #h/c fic #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher netflix

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official-weasley · 3 years ago

Text

It's Positive (The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley AU)

Warnings: nothing but fluff

Word count: 3,051

Characters: Charlie Weasley and my OC Nova from TICW which you can find here

A/N: Okay, so! I want to clear the confusion that some of you might have. Specifically, those of you who have read my TICW and know about something that happens in Part 8.

After I wrote the alternative ending my mind went crazy realizing that the story doesn't have to end now but I stuck to it anyway. I had some of you in my private messages asking me to continue the story with chapter and parts but I didn't envision it like that, sorry.

However! I did start getting one-shots ideas a few weeks back that are basically stories from their lives in the alternative ending. So because I miss Nova and that version of Charlie so so much and I can't help myself and is honestly keeping me from writing anything else I decided to create an Alternative Ending AU where I would have the liberty to write stories about different events in their lives.

This one is happening a few weeks after the Sanctuary was attacked by Death Eaters. I will try to keep the timeline as clear as possible and try not to jump up and down a lot. Keep in mind that Nova is safe and sound in the alternative universe.

There will be no stories before this point - meaning no more school days for them but everything from this point on.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Oh, it's good to have Nova back. 🥺💙

Charlie

“I can't believe we did it.” The biggest grin painted Andrei's face. “I mean, the trees are still burned, but it's better and in time for your wedding too.”

“It took quite some time but I didn't have the slightest doubt that we wouldn't restore the Reserve.” I bestowed him with a smile.

“It's never going to be the same is it?” Andrei asked after a few seconds of silence.

“No.” I shook my head slightly, the smile disappearing from my face. “Listen, Andrei, are you sure you are okay with us having the wedding here?”

“Of course! Why would I mind?” Andrei's brows furrowed. “You needed long enough to arrange everything.” He joked.

“Yeah.” I forced a laugh. “You know what I mean. The events that happened here not even 3 weeks ago are still leaving a bitter taste in a lot of people's mouths. We lost a lot of people. I don't want to rub it in everybody's faces how happy Nova and I are.”

“Charlie,” Andrei turned to me slightly, putting a hand on my shoulder, “that is exactly what everybody needs. Love brings people together and it gives them hope. You have been at the healing station and you have helped me out the most, so you know that we need something positive.”

“You sound like Felix.” My lips curved a little.

“Yeah, that won't go away anytime soon.” Andrei shook his head and looked at the ground trying to hide the fact that tears gathered in his eyes.

“Andrei, if you ever need anything... you know that Nova and I are here for you. I don't know what I would do if I lost...” I bit my lip, stopping myself from saying anything else.

Just the thought of something happening to Nova or me losing her like Andrei lost Felix, broke something in me.

“I know.” He gave out a small smile. “You two are my closest friends here and one of the few who knew about me and Felix.”

“One more reason for you to come knocking on our door when you need some company.” I pulled him into a hug despite him being my boss and us never doing that before. I knew he needed one even though he would never admit to it.

“So,” Andrei gestured for us to start walking towards the cottages, “what do you two have planned once you get married?”

“We barely planned the wedding and you are asking me that?” I chuckled.

“Are we going to see any fiery-haired little Weasleys running around?” His face beamed.

“Oh, no!” I shook my head quickly. “We're not that fast. We want to enjoy our marriage before we start working on having little Weasleys.”

“Whatever you say.” Andrei sighed, pretending to be disappointed as we stopped in front of my home.

“You'll be begging me to not make you babysit so be careful what you wish for!” I giggled.

“How is Nova feeling, by the way? Any better?”

“She has been fine for two days now but she said that she'll stay in for a couple of days more just to be sure the stomach bug is really gone,” I explained.

“That's great news. Say hi to her for me and I'll see you tomorrow, Charlie.” Andrei waved and started walking away.

“Nova?” I called her name as I stepped through the door.

I took off my shoes and listened for movement to find out in which room she was.

“Love? Are you still sleeping?” I checked the clock on our kitchen wall. It was a little past 11, there was no way she was still in bed even though she never was a morning person.

“Bath...room.” I heard her say before she flushed the toilet.

“Are you alright?” I knocked on the door and pressed my ear on it, concern in my voice.

“No.” She whispered. “It's back.” She gagged and I could hear her pushing the toilet lid back up.

“Can I come in?” I asked gently, frowning.

I was getting more concerned each day. While I was out and about helping Andrei and the others after the Sanctuary attack, Nova has been spending most of her time in our bathroom. When the Death Eaters fled, we were both sent to the healing station for a check-up despite Nova saving us both with that protection spell. They deemed us healthy with minor scratches and I feel completely fine. Nova, however...

“Yeah.”

I slowly opened the door when she granted me access. She was leaning over the toilet. One hand wrapped around her hair to hold it back, the other hand hugging the toilet.

“Nova, you have to stop being stubborn and let me take you to the healers.” I couldn't hide the firmness in my voice.

“I'm fine.” She swung her hand.

“You have been spending more time with that toilet than with me.”

“You jealous?” She tried to chuckle but pushed her head closer to the toilet again and I jumped to her to hold her hair.

“Please, love. This isn't normal. A stomach bug doesn't take this long.” I pleaded.

She kept saying that she has the stomach flu and at the beginning, I thought so too. But she didn't have any other symptoms besides vomiting every morning.

“What else could it be?” She asked weakly, after flushing yet again.

“I am no expert in these matters, that's why I am begging you to go see a healer. Our wedding is less than 14 days away. If you won't be alright by then we are canceling the whole thing!” I tried threatening her but a mocking smile gave me away.

“Less than 14 days away?” Nova didn't react to my threat at all in the way she usually does.

Usually, she rolls her eyes and lifts one of her brows, and gazes at me with her arms crossed over her chest until I tell her that I'm joking. Now, her face lost all its color and her eyes widened as if the most terrifying creature was standing behind me.

“What date is it?” She asked, panic in her voice.

“27th,” I answered, puzzled.

“Twenty...” Nova's jaw dropped before leaning over the toilet again.

“Oh, no, no, no, no!” She got up, flushing again, and exited the bathroom.

“Nova, what is going on?” I rushed after her and stopped when I saw her pacing around the coffee table in our living room, her hands in her hair.

“I think I know what's wrong with me.” She said more to herself than to me.

“Love, you can't just diagnose yourself with something,” I said calmly, trying not to irritate her as she seemed to be seconds away from a panic attack.

“No, Char, listen to me!” She entwined out fingers, brought us to the sofa, and sat us down.

“Okay, I'm listening.” I brushed a lock of hair off her face.

“I...” Before she could continue, she put her hand over her mouth, looking green again.

“Should we rather have this conversation in the bathroom?”

“I think that would be better.” She nodded and before I could help her up, she was already running.

“Okay, so what do you think you have?” I asked, brushing her hair back after she was done.

“I don't want to say.” She was biting her lip nervously, us kneeling in front of the toilet.

“Love, we have been best friends since we were 11 and we celebrated our 5th anniversary in May and you can't tell me something?” I chuckled, trying to brighten up the mood.

“May!” She gasped and her eyes widened again. “Our anniversary!”

“Nova,” I blinked at her confusingly, “you have to give me more details. What is going on? What about our anniversary?”

“Okay,” she took a deep breath and waited for a second just to see if she will have to vomit again, “do you remember what we did after a very romantic dinner?”

“Yeah.” My cheeks turned scarlet, reminiscing on the moment.

“Do you remember what we usually do before we do that?” Nova pressed her lips together.

“We use the protection spell.” I nodded.

“Mhm, yeah, so...” Nova scratched the back of her head. “...do you remember how we could barely keep a conversation up in that restaurant because we didn't have the time to have sex for like 14 days and we couldn't wait to get home and once we did we were so caught up in the moment that we forgot something?” She squinted her eyes, her cheeks burning.

“Forgot someth...” Before I could ask what she was trying to say, my eyes mimicked hers from before. “No!” I said incredulously.

Nova nodded and hummed.

“No, we can't be. You can't be. It was one time!” I was pretty sure I was getting green in the face now.

“It's a possibility,” Nova mumbled. “This stomach bug of mine could be morning sickness.”

“I...” I suddenly forgot how to speak. “But it was one time.”

“Char, it doesn't need more than one time to get pregnant.” Nova giggled.

“So what do we do now?” I tried hiding the fact that I was getting more nervous by the minute.

“Well, I think that now I actually have to listen to you and go to the healer.” I tilted my head at Nova.

How was she so calm? This was huge! If she really is pregnant and we're going to have a baby...

I blinked. I didn't know how I feel about this. Ever since we first talked about having a family it has been our secret guilty pleasure. We both want a family and move somewhere where it would be safer to raise the kids but we want that in a few years. We are not prepared to have a baby!

“Let's go then.” I offered her my hand.

“Now?” Nova glimpsed at the toilet.

“Should we wait for another hour, just to make sure you're done for the day?”

“Yes, please.” Nova gave out a sheepish smile.

—

“Well, if you are vomiting and feeling nauseous every morning and your period is late and you forgot to use the protection spell, it's pretty safe to say that you're pregnant.”

Madam Finch had a slight smirk on her face saying that. The second Nova felt better we went to the healing station and found her at once.

“But, how can we be sure?” Nova asked.

“Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do for you here. We don't have any equipment like that, since we are in the middle of a Dragon Sanctuary. I am afraid you will have to go to St Mungo's or go to a Muggle drug store to get a pregnancy test.”

“A pregnancy test?” I furrowed my brows. “How does that work?”

“It's a plastic stick on which Nova would pee and if the window displaying the result would have a plus in it she is pregnant and if it would have a minus she's not pregnant.” Madam Finch replied.

“And how reliable are these tests?” Nova wanted to know.

“If your period is late and you think you conceived in May it would be about 99% reliable.”

Nova and I looked at each other and nodded. I knew she had the same idea as I did. We need to get to a drug store at once.

We walked to the Sanctuary gates in silence. Nova was biting her lip and looking at the ground, while I tried to calm down my nerves. It was obvious that we felt too awkward talking about this because we were both afraid of what the other person would say. I didn't want to tell her that I'm nervous, I needed to be there for her and appear strong even though I was pretty sure that the same thoughts were crossing her mind.

The second we walked outside the gates, we locked arms and apparated to the nearest Muggle town. Nova spotted the store and grabbed my hand, dragging me behind her. She tried hard to appear as if she wasn't trying to rush this but I knew she wanted to get it over as soon as possible.

“There are so many of them. How are we supposed to choose?” Nova's eyes were scanning all the different boxes, while she was biting the inner side of her cheek.

“Which one does seem the most reliable to you?” I tried helping her even though I had zero experience when it came to this.

“I wish my mum was here,” Nova whispered and I was pretty sure I wasn't supposed to hear that.

I bowed my head. I felt so useless. She was nervous trying to find out if she had a baby in her belly and I was just standing next to her, helpless. I wish this would happen when we were more ready and I wish I was more knowledgeable about this so I could advise her.

“I'm sorry I am so helpless.” I put my hand on the small of her back. “What?” She looked away from the boxes and locked eyes with me.

“I feel so useless. I should be able to help you with this.” I pointed at the boxes.

“Char, stop it, now. I am as clueless as you are about this stuff and you don't see me apologizing to myself. We are going to manage just fine! We are in this together.” She bestowed me with the biggest reassuring smile, grabbed my hand, and pressed it hard against her chest.

“You're right.” I nodded and turned my head to the shelf with the boxes. “How about this one? It says that it's quick and 99.9% reliable.” I took the box and showed it to her.

“Sounds good to me. Let's take it!”

—

“I am so nervous, I can't believe I was able to pee!” Nova exclaimed as she came out of the bathroom, her eyes on the pregnancy test in her hand.

“I am proud of you for peeing, love.” I gestured for her to sit down on the sofa next to me.

She put the stick on the coffee table and positioned herself in my arms. I tightened the grip on her as much as possible because I knew how much it calms her down. I took a deep breath, neither of us taking our eyes off the test.

“So,” Nova swallowed hard, “we didn't talk about how we feel about this.”

“About what?” I kissed the top of her head.

“About how we would feel if a plus shows in that little circle.”

There was a moment of silence. I could feel Nova's heartbeat against my arm.

“Well, we didn't plan this,” I said carefully. I knew she was nervous but I didn't know what she was hoping for.

“Yeah.” Was all she replied.

“And we aren't even married.”

“Yeah.” “And we said we wanted to enjoy being married to one another for a few years before we start a family.”

“Yup.” Nova nodded.

“And we wanted to find a nice cozy home where we could envision us raising our little rascals.”

“That we did.”

“And we are currently at war.”

“Mhm,” Nova mumbled.

“It's the worst possible time to have a baby.”

“Yeah, I couldn't agree with you more.”

“But how I wish that we would get a plus.”

“Me too.”

Nova shifted in my arms and we both sighed in relief when we saw the biggest grins painting our faces.

“I know it's not ideal but is it ever the right time to have a kid?” Nova pressed her lips hard on mine.

“Is it okay if I say that I don't care when the right time is? I am so excited to see the result, hoping that we're pregnant that I can't think of anything else.” I admitted.

The second we started staring at that test and I thought to myself that I hope we are having a baby I forgot about all our worries.

Was the timing good? No. But do I think we are ready to have a family? Yes. We might not know everything and we have a lot to learn but every parent is clueless at the beginning, right? If Nova got pregnant in May, we have quite some time to learn all the necessary things for us to be great parents.

“I feel the same. I want to have a baby with you, Char.” Her voice was so soft and her eyes were so hopeful that I couldn't stand it anymore.

I gently pushed her away and kneeled in front of the coffee table, trying not to peak at the test.

“Has it been 2 minutes yet?”

“I think so.” Nova kneeled next to me, her eyes going from the clock on the wall to the test.

“Should we turn it around?” I put my arm around her shoulder and kissed her forehead.

“Let's do it together.”

We grabbed the pregnancy test, one on each side, and turned it around.

“What does it say?” Nova asked.

“I don't know. I have my eyes closed!” I giggled.

“Me too!” Nova started laughing.

“Okay, we both look in three, two, one!”

We both opened our eyes, our gaze on the little circle in the middle of the stick.

“Love...” I whispered.

“It's positive.” Nova breathed.

“We're having a baby?” “We're having a baby!” Nova exclaimed, picked up the pregnancy test, and brought it so close to her face that it was almost touching her nose.

“We're going to be parents!” I helped her get up and we started jumping up and down around the living room.

“We're pregnant, Char!” She crushed into me, giving me the tightest hug. “And we're not even married.” She looked up at me, trying to see my reaction.

I couldn't stop smiling. Her being so happy and excited about it and me wanting to have a family with her ever since we got together, made this moment so perfect. I pressed a kiss on her forehead and one on each of her cheeks before I cupped her face and kissed her tenderly.

Before I could enjoy our pleasantly surprising news more, a thought came to mind and my eyes widened as Nova's did before.

“My mum's going to kill us.”

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botherkupo · 3 years ago

Text

heroes and lullabies (chapter 10)

new chapter is up!

read on ao3

10: sleepover

Adrien sits across from his father at the dinner table. It’s their scheduled meal, and this time Father hasn’t cancelled on him. Normally, such a rare event would leave Adrien warm with happiness. He’d talk and talk, telling his father about school, about his friends, about his many extracurricular activities. He’d talk like a beggar cherishing a bowl of scraps, desperate to savour every second he gets to spend with his father.

But today he’s silent.

“Is the soup not to your liking?” Father says.

Adrien blinks, slow and sluggish. He’s barely touched his food. The spoon feels odd in his hand and everything he puts in his mouth is like trying to swallow paper. Still, he has to eat. Not doing so will only invite reprimands. (Dealing with his loss of appetite after Desperada taught him that much.) He should probably try to pay attention more as well. It just feels like everything is a chore these days. Dressing. Eating. Just being human.

“It’s fine,” he says, and swallows a mouthful of soup.

Father frowns.

The silence gets sharper, like a needle digging between Adrien’s shoulder blades. He tenses. He knows this silence. It means Father is bothered by something about him. Instinctively, Adrien straightens his spine. Maybe his posture looks too sloppy, or maybe he’s eating his meal too slowly, or maybe—

Beeping sounds from his pocket. An incoming call alert. He winces, shoulders creeping up to his ears. He can’t believe he forgot to turn his phone to Do Not Disturb mode. Father hates it when they’re interrupted by Adrien’s friends. Business calls are the only calls allowed at the dinner table.

“I’m sorry, Fa—”

“Answer it.”

Adrien blinks.

“And put it on speaker,” Father says, his expression like unreadable steel.

Knots form and wriggle in Adrien’s stomach. Bad behaviour is never rewarded in this house. There has to be something Father is planning, something to do with this phone call, but ignoring the command will only make things worse.

Adrien hesitantly removes his phone from his pocket. It’s Marinette who’s calling. The knots in his stomach tighten and unease pools like thick tar down his throat. He clicks the button to answer. “Hi,” he says, keeping a wary eye on Father.

“Hey, Adrien,” she says. “Just wanted to check if you can come to the sleepover tomorrow. Did your dad give you the okay?”

Adrien holds his father’s gaze. There’s no expression. No sign of approval or disapproval. “I haven’t asked him yet.”

“I hope he lets you come. It’s not fair you always have to miss out on things and—”

“Hey, I’ve got to go, Marinette. We can talk later, okay?”

“Oh, okay.”

He hangs up before she can say anything incriminating and lose what favour she has in Father’s eyes. The silence that follows is sticky and heavy, pressing against him from all sides.

“Why didn’t you ask me for permission?” Father asks.

Because you always say no.

Because I’d rather not ask at all than deal with the disappointment right now.

“I guess I forgot,” Adrien says.

More silence. Father considers him with slightly narrowed eyes—not annoyed. More contemplative.

“Tell Marinette Dupain-Cheng that you can attend.”

Adrien’s jaw drops. “Wait, really? You’ll—you’ll really let me go?”

“It will make you happy, won’t it?”

“I—yes.”

“Then you may go.”

Warmth blooms in Adrien’s chest. The knots unravel, the trail of sticky tar is gone. “Thank you, Father,” he says softly.

Maybe he was wrong to have been worried. Maybe Father is just genuinely looking out for him.

Adrien picks up his spoon and swallows another mouthful of soup. It doesn’t feel so much like eating paper this time.

oOo

“I’m so glad you could come,” Marinette says, welcoming him inside her home.

He takes his shoes off. “Me too. I didn’t think Father was going to let me.”

Nino and Alya are meant to be here as well, but Nino ended up having to babysit his little brother, and Alya and her family have gone away for the weekend to visit her cousins. Adrien doesn’t mind, though. He’s happy to spend time with Marinette. Besides, it’s just like when he used to come over as Chat Noir.

“Come and sit,” Tom says, guiding him towards a chair. His hand is warm on Adrien’s shoulder. “I hope you brought a hearty appetite.”

“Tom prepared a feast,” Sabine says, tossing a fond smile at her husband. “Don’t worry, though, Adrien. You don’t have to eat everything.”

His smile is grateful as he meets her eyes.

The four of them sit around the small table. It’s cosy and noisy, just as it always is. No silence. Not in this home. Still, it’s difficult to keep up sometimes. Difficult not to sink inward, to let the emptiness that gnaws at his stomach distract him and suck away his energy.

He wishes that he could make it stop. The sadness. The listlessness. The aching loss. But life doesn’t work that way. Hearts can’t be mended with a snap of his fingers, just like dead mothers can’t be brought back to life or a magical cat friend returned.

So he forces the feelings down as best as he can. He listens and smiles and laughs when he’s supposed to. He tries to enjoy himself. Really tries. He loves Marinette’s parents, and he loves being with her. It should be easy, right?

It should be.

oOo

“What do you want to do?” Marinette asks, taking him up to her room with an armful of snacks.

“I don’t mind.” He rubs the base of his neck and gives a small shrug. “I’ve never actually been to a sleepover before, so just whatever you normally do is fine.”

Her brow creases. There are dark circles under her eyes as well, but then a glint of humour creeps into the curve of her mouth. “I’m not sure if you would enjoy that. Alya and I like to give each other facials and do each other’s nails.”

He tilts his head. “Why would you think I wouldn’t enjoy that?”

“Are you saying you would?”

Her tone is lightly teasing. Challenging. It feels so normal, so stabilising, like the world was off kilter before and now it’s slotting back into place.

He leans down so he’s at eye-level with her, a smile curving his lips. “I don’t know. Are you any good at it?”

She snorts and pushes him back with her finger to his chest. “Alright then, pretty boy. Let’s give you the full sleepover experience.”

oOo

She’s pushed his hair back with a headband and he lies down on the chaise, his head resting on her lap. Her fingers are gentle as she cleanses his face. It’s relaxing. Her room. Her touch. Counting the little freckles that sprinkle her nose and cheeks.

“What are you staring at?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.

“You.”

Pink spills over her cheeks. “Well, I need you to close your eyes.”

He obeys, a smile lingering on his lips. Soon enough the mask is on his face and he and Marinette switch positions so he can do the same to her. She keeps her eyes closed. Her expression is so at ease that he can’t help but gaze at her fondly as he massages cleanser in light circles onto her skin. He’s glad they’ve been able to reach this point. No more awkwardness. No more questioning whether they’re really friends.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” she murmurs.

“Surprisingly? I am a model, you know. Knowing how to do a proper facial is part of the job.”

She laughs, and he loves the sound. The pure, unabashed amusement.

He moves onto soaking a cloth in hot water to steam her face, and because he has nothing else to do while he waits, he runs his fingers through her hair and gives her scalp a massage. She practically sinks into his hands.

“I take it back,” she says. “You’re really good at this.”

He smiles and continues his ministrations until it’s time to remove the cloth from her face and exfoliate her skin. After that, he applies the mask. “All done.”

Her eyes flicker open and meet his gaze. Everything about her is soft in that moment. So affectionate. Something stirs inside him—a whisper of gossamer wings.

He blinks and looks the other way, easing her off him. “Guess we wait now, huh?”

“Guess so.”

oOo

They wash off the masks and move onto nails. He’s not surprised she chooses pink for her nails and toes. He goes for red with a black accent nail, and her eyes twinkle as she asks him if he’s a Ladybug fanboy.

“Maybe,” he says with a sheepish laugh.

There’s something about her smile that he can’t quite figure out. A secret kind of amusement that’s laced in warmth. He doesn’t question it, though, and the two of them play Truth or Dare—a staple game for sleepovers, apparently—as they wait for the nail polish to dry. Of course, all of the dares aren’t allowed to involve doing anything to disturb the drying process.

“Okay,” she says, “touch the tip of your nose with your tongue.”

He tries to do so—and fails miserably. Her giggles ring out around them.

“You look ridiculous,” she says.

He shrugs in a way that still manages to look preening. “Can’t be talented at everything.”

Something flickers in her expression—a ripple of pain, of a grief he understands all too well. He represses a wince. That response had maybe channelled a little too much Chat Noir.

“Truth or dare,” he says softly, wanting to change the subject.

“Dare.”

“Coward,” he taunts.

She pokes her tongue out at him.

“Alright, say the alphabet backwards.”

She groans.

“You gotta do the dare, Marinette.”

“Ugh, okay. Z, X, Y, W, X—”

“Ha!”

She kicks him in the leg, though not at all hard (and she’s careful not to brush her nails against him). “Don’t laugh at me. I’d like to see you do better.”

“I don’t have to. It’s your dare.”

She rolls her eyes, but her lips are still twitched up at the corners and she manages to say the rest with no mistakes.

“Truth or dare,” she says.

“Truth.”

She bites her lip, her expression going more serious. “What’s really been bothering you lately?”

The warm bubble that’s been building in his chest bursts. He glances at his hands. At the red and black nails. At the ring finger that looks too bare, faint tan line still showing.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts. “I don’t know why I—I know you didn’t want to tell me because it was too personal, and you don’t have to say anything. I just—”

“It’s okay,” he says softly.

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have asked you something so personal for a stupid game. I’m so—”

“Marinette.” He places his hands on her shoulders and meets her gaze. “It’s okay. You’re just worried. I get it.”

She bites her lip again, looking at him with such open concern. Such an aching need to give him comfort and make things better for him. The gossamer wings flutter back to life in his chest, and his heartbeat quickens.

It’s confusing. It keeps happening lately. Sometimes she reminds him so much of Ladybug. But Marinette is still his friend, and he doesn’t want to distance himself from her because of silly muddled feelings.

He closes his eyes and presses his forehead against hers. “Thank you for worrying about me.”

She relaxes into the touch, and for a moment they just breathe together.

“I really want to hug you,” she says.

A soft laugh escapes his lips. “Same.”

“Screw the nails?”

He wraps his arms around her for answer, and she returns the gesture in an instant, her arms holding him tight, fingers pressing into his back. Seconds pass.

“Something’s been bothering you as well, right?” he murmurs into her hair. He has an idea of what that is, of course, but he wants to let her know he’s noticed and cares all the same. It’s the least he can do.

“Yeah,” she says. “I … I haven’t been able to see a friend for a while now.” Her body trembles and she presses her face into the crook of his neck. “I miss him. I really, really miss him.”

He holds her closer. “He probably misses you too.”

Moisture dampens his neck. She’s crying.

They stay like that for a while.

oOo

It turns out that neither of them have been sleeping well of late, so they get comfortable on her bed, laptop in front of them, and marathon one of her favourite shows that he hasn’t seen before. She’s got her cheek resting on his shoulder and her body is warm against his side. It’s so natural. So easy. Gone are the muddled feelings. Gone is the hesitance about whether it’s really okay to be close to her like this.

They’re friends. He wants to be there for her.

“Adrien,” she mumbles.

“Mm?”

“Thanks for coming over. I … I really needed the company.”

He pulls her closer in a one-armed hug. “I think I really needed the company, too.”

She nestles more into his chest and they continue to watch the show. After a while, his eyelids begin to droop. He should move. Should go to the chaise where blankets and a pillow have been set up for him. But she’s warm and he’s comfortable, and the sleepy fingers pressing down his eyelids are getting harder and harder to resist.

He closes his eyes and falls asleep.

#ml #heroes and lullabies #my writing

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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

Text

One - pt. 02 - Rafe Cameron

Summary: Your ex-boyfriend’s wedding day has come and you bring Rafe as your date.

A/N: Jumping ahead four months with a flash back included cause I can lol.

One Thing Right Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

△ ▽ △ ▽

The song that was playing in the background of the dinner was slowly in-graining itself in Rafe’s mind. He was positive that he would wake up tomorrow morning with that song ruminating in the back of his brain despite the fact that he hadn’t even given it his full attention. People on either side of him, sans the empty chair that his suit jacket was draped over, were chattering in a lull hum of conversation, all acquaintances of the bride, like you were.

You were not sitting, instead you were by the ridiculously small table set up at the top of the ballroom, at the edge of the dance floor, with enough flowers draped around it to start an arboretum. You were squatting just enough to chat while staying relatively close to standing and Rafe was watching you as you and the bride talked over something meaningless. She’d called you over and apparently you had to go, as he understood it.

You weren’t the only thing keeping his attention though. He knew the groom. He hadn’t mentioned it on your first date, or your second, or now, four months later when he spent a ridiculous amount of time at your apartment. He hadn’t mentioned it in case you didn’t remember but he remembered you. He remembered that night at the party and back at his apartment and breakfast the next morning. Rafe could remember every detail of it but, most importantly, he had asked a friend of a friend about you afterward, after you didn’t call him. Out of curiosity he asked and found out you were back with your boyfriend and there he was now, marrying some other woman. He knew this guy, staring at you as you talked to his now bride.

When you stood up fully, shifting the end of your dress where you’d stepped back into it, Rafe sat up a little more. He watched you walk back to the table, smiling at him when you caught him watching you. Being with you now, even after the first date at Menton’s, he had to admit that he was glad you never called him back in college. He was an idiot back than, reminiscent of your ex he imagined, and he would’ve never been what you needed him to.

“She wanted to know who you were,” you supplied, sliding into the seat that his suit jacket was saving, moving as close to him as two chairs would allow. He couldn’t stop himself from hoping that you would always want to sit that close. You leaned in so no one else at the table could hear you, “I told her I paid for you, does $100 sound like too low of a going rate?”

The slow smile that overtook his face at your joke was infectious and you smiled back. “100 for an hour?”

“Oh no for the whole night.” You teased, “do you charge extra for after dinner?”

“I’ll cut you a deal,” he joked, kissing you when you tilted your head back slightly.

He wasn’t sure if it was because he just wasn’t as immature as he used to be or if it was you but he felt himself paying attention more. Learning all the little movements and expressions you had. He remembered you from college because he’d desperately wanted another chance with you. It was cliché to admit, and he doubted he ever would, but there had been something about you, about that night, that he’d wanted to freeze and live inside of. It panned out that you went back to your boyfriend and Rafe had, up until four months ago, always imagined that it lasted. That the two of you got married young, that you probably had adorable kids running around that were half you and half someone else. That you had everything you wanted in life. He had never let himself consider another possibility and then you were messaging him and you didn’t seem like you remembered and there was no way he was going to screw up a second chance by reminding you.

“How can you not like Boston?” You asked, handing over his cup of coffee as you sat down beside him on the couch. He had texted you earlier in the evening to cancel what would’ve been your fifth date, telling you he was swamped with work and he had to stay in.

Usually you would have just said that was fine and found anything else to do for the evening but it had been a week since your fourth date and as ridiculous as it sounded you really just wanted to spend time with him, in whatever capacity he had to offer. So you texted him back and asked how ‘mobile’ his office was and offered to make him dinner if he came over.

Whatever you were feeling seemed to resonate with Rafe too because if it had been anyone else he would’ve written them off as being clingy. But he hadn’t wanted to cancel in the first place and your offer to still have him over was like a gateway. He was already packing up his laptop and files as he texted you back.

You made spaghetti and salad and a ricotta dip that you’d found on Tasty once and mentioned that you could eat entirely on your own. Dinner was casual, just the two of you hanging out on the couch and eating, talking occasionally when he surfaced from work. He’d dressed nice for the last four dates, all dinners at higher-end restaurants that you couldn’t have afforded on a teaching salary.

“Can’t believe the first guy you actually go out with on Tinder is fucking rich and you already know he’s great in bed.” Nina had bitched when you had told her about the first four dates. It was her constant complaint, reiterated in different ways each time you talked about Rafe.

Tonight he looked more like the guy you hooked up with at Duke. He was just in jeans and an old college shirt, and you resisted the urge to tell him that you went there too, and his hair wasn’t styled back like he usually wore it. He just looked comfortable, even more so sitting on your couch working, Fivel having hoped up to lay beside him. Aside from Nina’s husband, who Fivel changed his mind about on a daily basis, your dog had little interaction with men but he seemed perfectly content with Rafe.

Dinner ended and you prolonged the evening with coffee, bringing you a cup while he lamented about living in Boston. “I know it can be expensive-“

“It’s not that,” Rafe shrugged, taking the mug from your hands and leaning back against the cushions of the pink velvet couch. Was it a bit much, especially with a dog? Sure, but who didn’t want an instagramable apartment. Ian had hated the pink velvet and he told you so when you bought it and everyday until he dumped you. “I hate the weather, beach isn’t the same as down south.”

“I‘ll give you that we’re running out of beach days but, the snow is awesome!” You argued, “plus I get snow days off.”

“Not all of us are teachers.” Rafe replied, turning his head to the side to look at you. It was probably stupid to still be in awe of you every time you were around and he had to wonder if that was ever going to change but he doubted it. “I still have to work when I’m snowed in.” He watched the way you smiled, leaning into him, careful of his coffee, to kiss him.

“Yeah but you can get snowed in with me.” You proposed, knowing that the snow was a long way away and exactly what that suggested and maybe he didn’t think that far ahead.

“I take it back, I think Boston is growing on me.”

The open bar at the wedding was a godsend. Especially when you were busy talking to other people who worked at your school. Rafe had agreed to the weekend upstate with you because it was exactly that, a weekend upstate. You’d taken Friday and Monday off from work and extended the stay which meant extra time for the two of you, existing in this cute, small town bubble where you had no obligations except each other. Bring the dog and Rafe was sure he could live up here with you forever, a scary thought at four months.

“Hey, do we know each other?” Ian asked, stepping up to the bar next to Rafe, undoing his bow tie and letting it hang around his neck.

Rafe spared him a side glance as he took a long sip of his whiskey, trying to decide if he really felt like talking to this guy. You still hadn’t mentioned hooking up but you had told Rafe that the groom was your ex, someone he didn’t need any help remembering. He couldn’t blame you really, the circumstances didn’t lend to him being more than an irresponsible fuck boy back then but god was this guy a loser.

“I don’t think so.” Rafe replied, looking back out over the reception. You were standing near the edge of the dance floor, chatting with the principal and her husband. You waved at him when you caught him looking and he nodded his head to you. He heard Ian say your name and toward him again, “what?”

“You came with-“

“Yeah.”

“Crazy world man, I used to date her in college.”

“Yeah that’s real crazy.” He replied, pushing his empty glass back across the bar counter and asking for another. He’d need the whole bottle to get through a conversation with Ian.

“Swear I know you from somewhere else though.” Ian said, squinting as if that would help, “did you go to Duke?”

Yeah.”

“No fucking way, that’s crazy man!”

“It’s all crazy.” Rafe said, rolling his eyes. God he hoped this guy was drunk.

“Did we have class together or something?”

You caught Rafe’s eye again, waving your hand from him to come over. You’d moved on from talking and there weren’t too many other people around that you knew. Standing around awkwardly was exactly what you didn’t want. Rafe downed the rest of his second glass, leaving it on the counter as he turned to Ian, “no but I did fuck your girlfriend.” He said before walking off.

Ian’s eyes went wide, trying to work out exactly what Rafe was saying as he watched him walk over to you. Like some kind of alcohol induced time warp Ian felt himself spiral back to the morning the two of you had gotten back together. That was it, he was the guy in the car that dropped you off. He remembered watching you kiss him in the parking lot, the same way you kissed him now.

“Fuck.” Ian mumbled, tapping the bar, “can I get a whiskey?”

The bartender poured him a whiskey, same as Rafe’s, and he kicked it back, coughing unexpectedly when the warm liquid hit his throat.

You wrapped your arms around Rafe’s neck as he came up to you, kissing him, “how long do you think the bridesmaids have to stay at the wedding?” You asked, leaning your whole body against him.

“As much as I’d love to leave I think it’s pretty standard to stick around until after the cake has been cut.” He replied, hands slipping beneath the suit jacket you’d stolen from him and taken to wearing. Your dress was cut low in the back and he brushed his fingers across your bare skin. Watching the way your eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the feeling had him kissing you again. “When is the cake again?”

“Soon,” you promised, “then you and me can split…think they’d notice me lifting a bottle of champagne.”

“Not if you time it right.”

“Okay, I’m getting a drink and then I’m making you dance cause I didn’t take my shoes off for nothing,” you announced, pulling away from him. You made your way over to the bar, eager for something that wasn’t just the wine you’d gotten with dinner. Your grad partner claimed they had signature drinks and she was apparently telling the truth as you saw the paper on display advertising an Ian and an Anya. “What’s in the Anya?” You chanced asking when you realised the writing beneath the drink name was just some bullshit about how sweet she was.

“It’s just a pink margarita.” The bartender replied, “it’s…really sweet.”

“Can I just get an old fashioned?”

“Hey.”

You turned to the side, pulling Rafe’s jacket closer and looking at Ian. He had apparently not left the bar area, letting Anya get in some dancing with her friends while he hung back and drank. You had seen him enough through the wedding prep, it was unavoidable, but you hadn’t really talked to him at all.

“Hey Ian, weddings really beautiful.” You mentioned, taking your drink and dropping a tip in the jar for the bartender.

“Met your new boyfriend.”

“Rafe?” You asked, searching for him. He’d either snuck out of the reception room or Anya had nabbed him for the fifth time that day to talk to him. She apparently thought he was great, something she’d mentioned multiple times since she had met him last month when he dropped by the school on a half day to meet you for lunch.

“Yeah, he went to school with us, didn’t he?”

“I guess Ian,” you shrugged.

“He said he did.”

“Wait…he said that…the three of us went to school together?” You asked, all your attention on your ex. Rafe knew? If he knew you went to Duke then he had to know.

“Yeah. Said something else to.” Ian replied.

“What?”

“He said you and him slept together. I knew you hooked up with someone when we broke up.” Ian said, leaning closer so no one heard him.

“I have to go.” You insisted, stopping to look back at him for a moment, “and yeah, I totally did.”

You left the reception, ignoring the DJ calling for the cake cutting to happen, leaving your heels on the seat of your table, your mind on one thing only. He knew. Rafe had seen Ian approach you at the bar and had hightailed it out of the reception, knowing that he would spill to you and knowing, even more than that, you’d think he was a creep for never saying anything.

He headed back up to the room, impeded only when he realised that the key was in his jacket which was on you. He leaned against the wall opposite door, pressing his hands to his face, trying to think of a solution. There was always asking the desk to open the door but his whole wallet was in his jacket, there was no way of proving who he was and unless this place had the worst precautions ever they weren’t gonna let a guy in a hotel room cause he said it was his.

“Rafe!” Your voice carried down the hall and he stood up straight. There was no avoiding it now. You’d tell him how fucking weird he was for not telling you that he had slept with you in college. He sounded so fucking awful.

“Look-“

“You knew!” You exclaimed, the one thought you’d had the entire way back to the room coming out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Wait, wait, what’re we talking about?” Rafe asked, mildly confused. Had Ian told you? Did you know? You didn’t seem mad.

“That…you know…we had sex,” you said, lowering your voice despite being in an empty hallway. “Right before spring break.”

His expression changed from one of absolute paranoia to a smug grin, realizing that your shock wasn’t in him knowing and not telling you but in him knowing too. “You knew.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, “but for real, it was Nina that found you on Tinder.”

“Can’t believe you lied to me.” He replied, laughing when you smacked his arm.

“I didn’t lie…and…you knew too!” You said, “wait, what did you say to Ian.”

Rafe shrugged, “he was pissing me off, so I told him we’d fucked before.”

You couldn’t help smiling, leaning into him and tilting your head back slightly for a kiss which he gave you willingly. “Why are we outside?”

“You have both keys.” He replied, slipping his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulling out his wallet. “Guess we missed cake.”

“That’s okay, I didn’t care about the cake anyway,” you admitted, keeping your arms around his waist as he swiped the card, twisting the knob on the door and opening it.

Aside from getting coffee in the mornings and just going on a general walk around the small town where the wedding was happening, you and Rafe had spent most of your time in the hotel room. He’d put work on hold for the long weekend too, meaning neither of you had responsibilities, especially now that the wedding was over.

“We should order better cake and some kind of alcohol up to the room.” You suggested, tossing his jacket over the chair and heading into the bathroom to take off your makeup.

Rafe sat on the end of the bed, watching your reflection in the mirror on the closet door across from the bathroom. He hadn’t even bothered taking off his shoes, his entire attention focused on you as you slipped out of your dress, disappearing behind the door for a split second to hang it off a hook, pulling Rafe’s gray t-shirt off the same hook and putting it on.

“I can’t believe you never told me,” you repeated as you stepped into the room, “like I keep thinking about it and I’m like...we would’ve grown old and died not knowing.”

“I definitely would’ve told you before we died,” Rafe promised as you walked over to him, stepping between his legs. He rested his hands on your hips pushing the shirt up just slightly. “You want cake then?”

You scrunched your nose, thinking for a moment whether you truly cared about the cake or not. In all honesty you wanted the exact same thing now that you had since this morning when your alarm went off, which was you and Rafe, in bed, undisturbed. “Raincheck on the cake?”

“Sure.”

“Since we’re on the subject-”

“Of cake?” He asked, cutting you off.

“No.”

“Oh, the other thing.” He replied, drawing it out as if he was truly just realizing what you were talking about.

You stuck your tongue out at him, “yes the ‘other thing’. Sorry I never called you.”

“Honestly,” he admitted, “this is better.”

You couldn’t be sure where either of you would have been if you had never gotten back together with Ian and had called Rafe back. Maybe you would be married, maybe you’d have broken up and it would be him marrying Anya. A truly terrifying thought. One you might’ve lingered on longer if you let yourself. But instead you did exactly what you’d been doing for the last few hours, focusing all your attention on Rafe and shutting out everything else.

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