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wongyuuu · 2 months

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lens of ice | yjh | one

pairing: jeonghan x f!reader genre: figure skater jeonghan, light angst, a little fluff, smut in the next part word count: 12k summary: jeonghan has only one chance left to make it to the olympics. as he embarks on this decisive journey, you, a documentarist, are set to follow him as he seeks the ultimate glory. warnings: jeonghan is kind of reckless with his body a/n: i've been writing this one for so long now and though it's not finished yet, i decided to post half of it, as a way to motivate myself to finish it. i really wanna thank @ressonancee first for giving me idea and second for helping me through all of this and putting up my crazy ass mind 💓

part one | part two (final)

The light buzzing of the fluorescent lights made him uncomfortable, it was like a premonition of what was to come. Something bad, he was sure.

Jeonghan was many things in his life, stubborn perhaps being the most obvious one, but dumb wasn't one then. He knew that his ankle was fucked up, that he was probably the cause of it. Too many hours of training, never giving himself enough time to heal before he got the ice again. He didn't know exactly how bad it was, that was for the doctor in front of him to say, but Jeonghan knew that nothing good would come out of the man's mouth.

"It's worse than I thought," the man said with a sigh, taking off his glasses "It's not just your ankle anymore, it's also your knee. And, I could be wrong, but considering the way you're walking, I'd say that you're right ankle also started to bother you"

Jeonghan hung his head. He was an athlete and he knew that he was being reckless, beyond actually. He should have gone to his coach the second he felt a sharp pain in his ankle. But he just went home, took an ice bath, and kept the whole thing to himself. Even on the following days, when the pain didn't go away at all, he still chose to keep his mouth shut and go to practice every day. And his coach, unaware of his condition, kept pushing him during practice.

Not that he needed anyone to be harsh on him, Jeonghan did all of that on his own. But having someone else do that for him as well brought out a different desire for perfection. One that came from a dark place to show someone else that he was good, to prove people wrong.

"Can I still compete?" was all he asked, it was the only thing that mattered to him "Can I make it to the Olympics? It's the last one for me, after this I retire"

The look on the doctor's face wasn't reassuring, Jeonghan knew that his next words wouldn't be the ones he wanted. He wasn't about to hear what he needed.

"If, and only if, you have surgery, take physical therapy seriously, and rest as we instruct you, there might be a possibility. Small, but it exists"

"When can I have the surgery?"

You stared at your computer screen, a hand on your forehead as you read the email your boss sent you. You sat at your desk, not really knowing what to do.

"Seungkwan!" you called without looking up "Did you get this email too?"

Just to make sure that you weren't crazy, you read it once again. The third time in less than five minutes. No matter how many times you read it, it didn't change.

"Yeah. I'm excited but scared…"

That was enough to get your attention.

"Why?"

Closing your laptop, you stood up moving closer to Seungkwan. Unlike you, who read the email many times, Seungkwan had already started his research. Not that he really needed to, everyone at the office knew that he was a huge fan of figure skating. So of course he would know all about Yoon Jeonghan.

The nation's pride and joy in figure skating, at least in the make category.

"Why scared? I thought everyone loved him"

It was impossible to look away from the picture Seungkwan had open on his computer. Jeonghan's face really was something else, as if he had been carved in marble by some ancient Greek artist. From his dark hair covering his eyes, giving him almost a mysterious vibe, to the way his lips were slightly crooked into a smile. You had to give it to him, the man was absolutely stunning. No wonder he left a trail of fans everywhere he went.

"He isn't the biggest enthusiast when it comes to the press. He barely gives interviews so I guess doing a documentary about him won't be easy"

Seungkwan kept scrolling, reading the latest news on Jeonghan. But the truth was that there wasn't any. His social media was also rarely updated, the last post was from months before.

"Well, good luck to you"

"What do you mean? You're the one in charge"

You just shook your head. The problem was Jeonghan honestly, you barely knew anything about him, though Seungkwan's words didn't help the case. The thing was that you barely knew anything at all about sports, in general, much less about figure skating. Lack of knowledge was an easy fix. The real issue was the fact that a documentary on a sport was way too different from what you usually did.

"I'm not doing this one. I have other projects I want to work on. Plus, this is too sudden. They want us to start tomorrow, Seungkwan. Do you really think that it's possible to have anything done by tomorrow?" he shook his head and you nodded in agreement "Precisely, so I'm sure that if we talk with Jihoon…"

"Nothing will change"

A curse left your lips at the sudden voice behind you. Turning around you faced the small man. Jihoon had his arms crossed over his chest and the look in his eyes that told you that no matter what he wouldn't let you off the hook. Still, you had to try.

"Jihoon, I'm not your sports person. And it's too soon. I don't anything about Jeonghan or figure skating"

Jihoon simply shook his head at you.

"They want a different approach than the average sports documentary, so I recommended you. I'm sending Seungkwan with you because I know this isn't your area of expertise, though I highly suggest you do some sort of research" he turned around to leave with a wave of his hand then turned around for a second, as if remembering something "Hansol will be your camera and sound guy. They asked for a small crew"

With a salute Jihoon left.

"Fuck"

You couldn't take your eyes away from the crutches under Jeonghan's arms and the orthopedic boot around his left leg. There was not a single article that pointed to surgery. There were plenty about his constant injuries though. Seungkwan had the same look on his face, of pure shock.

"Are you okay?" you asked once he made himself comfortable on the couch.

Jeonghan sat sideways on the couch, his leg propped up over cushions. The position looked weird but he didn't seem to mind.

"Ah, this" he pointed at his leg nonchalantly, as if it was the most normal thing "Yeah, it's okay. Had to get the surgery done in order to make it to the next Olympic"

Nodding, you looked around. His apartment wasn't as big as you had expected. In fact, the three of you stood closely together in the living room, a bit too small for all the gear Hansol said he needed.

"Put your things down, let's talk. I don't know how this is going to work"

Me neither, you wanted to say but kept your mouth shut. Thankfully, Seungkwan was there to help you.

"Before we start any real interview or conversation, I think we have to tell you that this was very last minute for us. We only heard about this documentary yesterday, in the middle of the afternoon" he used his kindest voice, his voice laced with concern and a hit of fear, maybe "yn is in charge, she's the documentarist, she'll be asking the questions and dictating the overall direction that we're going to take with the documentary. I'm Seungkwan and that's Hansol. This is the smallest crew he could assemble"

Seungkwan was giving too many explanations, you felt. But he also wasn't wrong. What he did was normal, he was just introducing the crew. Maybe you were a little irritated by the way you were tossed into this job, without someone giving you enough time to prepare. Sixteen hours were barely enough.

"I assume my… reputation has gotten to you," Jeonghan said, a small smile on his lips.

A reputation he had indeed. Jeonghan was known for not liking the press and journalists. He avoided them at all costs and once, on one occasion, was seen being rude. And honestly, you had to give him a pass for it. Pushing the camera away from his face, almost delicately, could barely be considered rude at such a moment. There were way too many cameras around, all of them on his face, trying to get some sort of pronouncement on why he had not made it to the podium.

And that had been years before but people still remembered him by that one moment. But what exactly did they expect? He underperformed, came in fourth place, and injured himself in the process. Was anyone expecting a happy and bright Jeonghan?

"You can be comfortable around me. A conversation like this is fine. I just don't like being swarmed"

Though his words were inviting, his face told a whole different story. He clearly didn't want this documentary.

"All of our interactions will be recorded," you told him, not leaving room for arguments on his end "These first few minutes aren't, out of courtesy and so that we can set our goals. I need to know if you're uncomfortable with anything, or something that you don't want to be filmed, either right now or before we turn the cameras on. Once we start, we won't stop"

Jeonghan adjusted his position on the couch, his eyes never leaving you. It was like he was measuring your every move. He didn't like your tone, and how aggressive you were towards him.

"I know this was last minute and I apologize for that. This is going to be my last run and, as much as I hate to admit, I'm a bit sensitive to it.

With furrowed eyebrows, you nodded. Jeonghan knew that you didn't believe him or that you cared about his reasons. He knew that the sole reason you were there was because someone made you.

"Will you need to film my family?"

"Yes, usually film family members to get a complete idea of someone's life"

Turning around you nodded at Hansol, telling him to start setting up. With a shake of his head, Seungkwan moved to help him.

"I don't want my family to know the extent of my injuries. So if you only want them for context, to know about me as a child, that's fine. But they can't know anything about this" Jeonghan pointed at his leg "I've been hiding this for a very long time and I'd like to keep it that way"

You dropped your bag on the couch, eyes tired and mind filled with one too many thoughts. The day had been easier than you expected, far more so.

Based on Seungkwan's words you had expected to fight with Jeonghan in a way. It was a documentary so you needed him to talk and talk he did. There was no question unanswered or dodged, all of his answers were precise and consistent. All of it had sounded fake like he had rehearsed them a million times.

Even if you thought that your question had been good, and had caught him off guard, Jeonghan seemed to be fully prepared for it. He didn't hesitate for a second.

In the few hours you spent around him, you finally managed to understand the fascination most people had with him. He was handsome, yes, but that was just the very basic and surface level of him. Beyonce that he was also good with his words. It was hard to tell that he was lying because he talked with conviction. After just one interview you were sure that if one day Jeonghan decided to tell you that your mom wasn’t actually your mother, you’d somehow believe him.

And the man knew all of it. He was aware of his beauty and charm, of what it did to normal people, and he used it in his favor. Jeonghan knew that most people couldn’t resist a handsome talented man. And that was a part he was all too willing to fill.

“Yeah,” you answered your phone, not bothering to see who it was, certain that it was just Jihoon.

“How was it today?” he sounded just as tired as you felt and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was okay.

“Fine”

“Just fine?”

You turned on your back, facing the ceiling, or at least whatever you could see with the lights turned off - not a whole lot, to be honest.

“He lied through his teeth today. There was no manager, and no coach around, though I do remember him saying someone would come. The person never showed up” you sighed “Seungkwan hates and Vernon probably thinks I’m a crazy bitch. So yeah, just fine”

Jihoon laughed on the other side of the line and you felt the little butterflies in your stomach come to life. You rolled your eyes at yourself. How pathetic it was of you, to have a crush on your boss. How very much bland of you.

Growing up, like a lot of girls that were influenced by way too much TV, you had wanted the be the odd one out. The I’m one of the guys kind of girl, or the one who refused to wear any kind of makeup or even come close to the pink because that was just girly for you. And now there you were, in love with the color pink, finding excuses to wear pretty dresses, and having a crush on your boss.

Teenage you would throw eggs at your head if she had the chance.

“Okay, but how was Jeonghan?” Jihoon pressed even further.

You sighed and closed your eyes, covering over face with your hand.

“He was polite, answered all of my questions, had a pleasant smile the entire time, and only asked for a bathroom break while we were there. Offered us food and drinks. He was fine” you said again, emphasizing the fine.

You could picture Jihoon, nodding his head and looking at the floor, probably thinking of what to ask next.

“Why would Seungkwan hate you? And why would Vernon think you’re a bitch?”

“Seungkwan thinks I went too hard on Jeonghan and Vernon just trusts Seungkwan’s judgment and goes with it”

Jihoon laughed again and you heard him moving around.

“Classic yn, going at someone while she’s angry. At least your anger was sort of directed to the right person”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you sat up.

You liked to think that you didn’t act that way all the time. In your mind, most of the time, you were able to hide your anger and just play nice like your mother had taught you to be. Jihoon’s words told a completely different story.

“Have some rest, there’s still a lot of work to do. Tomorrow you’re going with him to rehab, right?” Jihoon paused for a second and you heard a female voice in the back, you couldn’t make out what she said but you were sure of who it belonged to “I have to go. We’ll talk next week”

The line was disconnected and leaned back on the couch again. The problem of having a crush on your boss was also the fact that he had a long-time girlfriend and soon he was supposed to be marrying her.

You groaned, wondering if you had gone far enough that there was no going back from this crush.

You sat across from Jeonghan once again, the position exactly the same as the first day. But this time you chose to be less irritable.

The other day you were frustrated because you had to give up other projects to be able to accompany Jeonghan and that, thinking rationally, had nothing to do with him. He asked for a specific documentary filmmaker profile and you were chosen by the studio. Maybe it was more your fault than his. But it was also a no-return kind of situation. The job was assigned to you and there was nothing you could do to change it. So the least you could do was do your best and pray that it didn’t take a turn for the worse.

And, if anything, the conversation with Jihoon helped you focus on work. It wouldn't be the first time you were doing something you didn't want to do and it certainly wouldn't be the last. So you decided that the best thing to do was just work, showing your professional side that had been left aside before.

Jeonghan looked at you the same way, eyes serious as if he was ready for a new attack.

"Thank you," he said to Vernon, who had just placed the microphone inside his jacket, so that he could pick up the sound well, but it was not visible to the camera.

You turned to Seungkwan and Vernon, waiting for confirmation from the two that you could begin. You received a wave from each of them after they checked that the cameras were on and recording.

You took a deep breath and turned to Jeonghan.

"I wanted to apologize for yesterday," you said "I wasn't fair to you. I was irritated by things that had nothing to do with you, but I somehow decided that they did"

Everyone in Jeonghan's living room seemed to hold their breath, you included. You didn't know what to expect from Jeonghan, not really. You had been anything but ungracious with him, in a way that to most people meant that any door between you two had closed.

Jeonghan decided, at that moment, that he had two options: a) he could let the previous day dictate how all interactions between the two of you from then on would be, and it would be many months of a bad relationship that would bring no benefit to anyone involved in it; or b) he could accept your apology, which seemed sincere enough, and let go of the discomfort he felt.

Option b was actually the only possible choice.

“Okay” he finally smiled “my reputation isn’t the best, either way”

Seungkwan and Vernon breathed a sigh of relief. It was as if a huge gray cloud had moved away and the weather was beginning to clear.

“No, your reputation had no influence. I was the one who lost my hand because of my problems and for that, I apologize” you said and you were sincere in your words “But Jeonghan, I need you to stop seeing me as your enemy. I need you to be honest with me.”

You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.

“You think I wasn’t honest?” he tilted his head as if analyzing you.

“In the same way that you don't want your reputation to affect the way I see you, I need you to not let the way you see other journalists affect the way you see me. I want to tell your story, however you want it told, but I need you to be honest with me.”

You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.

He was silent for a minute, his eyes fixed on his hands. His hair covered his face, so it was hard to get an idea of what was going through his head.

You looked at Seungkwan, seeking confirmation that you hadn’t been rude. He seemed to be as lost as you were, but the small smile he gave you was enough to make your restless heart rest for a second.

“What if I say something and regret it later?”

It was the first time Jeonghan looked insecure and it was a strange sight, but much more realistic than the other version of him.

“We can edit it, it’s not a problem. I said that because I was angry” you said apologetically once again.

“Can we throw it all away and start again?”

Jeonghan smiled and you had no choice but to smile along with him.

“Let’s start with what’s happening now,” you said, folding your legs under your body, notebook open to a blank page and a pen ready to take notes “You underwent surgery not long ago, right? Why?"

Jeonghan took a deep breath, eyes closed for a second before placing all his attention on you. His gaze was almost too intense. You had to force yourself not to look anywhere but at him.

“A few years ago I fell during training and twisted my ankle. At the time, it wasn't a big deal and if I had stayed quiet for a few weeks, and did everything right, I wouldn't have had any problems. But I couldn't do it, I was preparing for a competition. I didn't tell anyone about the problem and just endured the pain. When I participated in the competition I fell again and that only made the situation worse. Today I have a problem with my ligament and tendon.”

With every word that left his mouth, you felt like a lump was forming in your throat, and with every second it was getting bigger.

Unlike the day before, it didn't seem like Jeonghan was lying, but you didn't know if you wanted the truth he was sharing. Even if it was a lie, a character he had created, the version of Jeonghan from before was a little brighter, a little more present in the moment. The version of him that was in front of you, that you imagined to be the closest to reality, was almost sad, detached from everything.

“Because I forced my right knee a lot, trying to compensate for the lack of my left one, I developed a problem with that one too”

“You’ve never talked about your injuries before, right?” he nodded “Why talk now?”

He was silent again, his lower lip caught between his teeth. That was a great question, one that not even Jeonghan himself knew exactly how to answer.

“I'm not sure, to be honest” he laughed a little. Instead of looking directly at the camera, his eyes were focused on you “Someone came up with the idea at some point and it didn't seem like a bad one, but I think it will only work if I make it to the Olympics.”

“Is that the ultimate goal then, to get to the Olympics?”

He shook his head, that fearless, confident look you had only seen in photos finally making itself known.

“No, the ultimate goal is to win”

As promised, Jeonghan waited for you, Seungkwan, and Vernon outside the clinic. He was nowhere to be seen, really, but the car his assistant informed you of was parked right in front of the door.

You were the first one to exit your own car, while Seungkwan and Vernon prepared the camera to follow along. You could only assume he was the manager. Terribly young for a manager, sure, but a manager nonetheless.

“I assume you’re in” he extended a hand to you “I’m Joshua”

“Hi”

The exchange of words with Joshua was quick, no more than half a dozen. You didn't have much to talk about with him and he wasn't your priority, at least not at the moment. Later, at some other time, talking to him would be great. He had introduced himself as a friend/manager of Jeonghan. Having his point of view would be great and could contribute a lot, but your eyes couldn't leave Jeonghan.

His hair was tied back, but a cap covered much of his face. He had barely said hi to you or the other two. It wasn't a big surprise. While it was true that made up to a certain extent, you didn't expect him to simply welcome you with open arms, but his reaction was strange - or as strange as the reaction of a person you knew little, or nothing, could be.

“Can we film it?” You asked.

Jeonghan stopped and turned towards you. He had forgotten that you and your team would attend his first physical therapy session, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Since the last time you saw each other, Jeonghan spent hours on end watching documentaries made by you and they all had one thing in common: they were almost like video logs. You followed everyone around documenting every tiny aspect of their lives. All those people told their stories and didn't seem afraid of having their lives exposed. And perhaps for people who didn't lead lives where they had been exposed too much, sincerity came easily.

For Jeonghan, that was never the case.

Being treated as the future, a promise of the sport, had brought a lot of harm and situations that neither he, nor anyone else, had the option to deal with or even, perhaps, ignore.

Cameras were pointed at him, rumors spread and suddenly he wasn't just Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who started skating because it would annoy his little sister. He became someone from whom people expected something.

As much as he could, Jeonghan tried to live up to all of those expectations, realistic or not. He tried to be as perfect as possible, on the ice and off of it. And it only took one day of silence, a few rude unanswered questions, and one bad performance — which had no real effect — for everything to collapse.

“You said you would film anything and everything.”

You grimaced, clearly regretful and maybe even a little embarrassed. It wasn't his intention, but he found your reaction funny anyway.

In your place, Jeonghan would have done much worse.

“Do you think it’s important?”

You nodded, perhaps more forcefully than necessary. Jeonghan laughed, he wanted to hold your head to make sure it was still in the right place.

“The documentary is about your return, so filming you here is important. I asked because it's your first session. I heard it can be painful.”

“It will probably be uncomfortable” he couldn’t deny that “Let’s do it like this, you can record it, if in the end you think it’s bad or that it doesn’t fit, we won’t use it

You quietly followed Jeonghan and Joshua out of the clinic, Seungkwan and Vernon trailing behind you talking in hushed tones. It was no surprise that they were talking. Truth was rehab had been brutal. You knew that it could get hard for Jeonghan, that it could be painful but nothing really prepared you for what you saw. And if it was hard for you to watch him go through that, it was unimaginable to understand how it was for him.

Throughout the entire session, Jeonghan looked in pain, his grunts and the scowl on his face growing with each passing second and new movement. Midway through you told Seungkwan and Vernon to stop filming. You had seen enough and you had more than what you needed for the documentary.

You would only film his rehab again when he was no longer in such pain, you decided. Out of the many things you learned about Jeonghan was that showing his weaknesses wasn’t something he was too fond of or even comfortable with the idea of it. So there was no real reason to keep recording and you couldn’t stand it either.

While you watched his face contort in pain, you felt something inside your chest tighten.

It had never been a real issue before with you. You had always managed to separate your personal emotions from the things you felt while working. More often than not you told stories that were hard to listen to, took someone’s suffering, and put it on the TV for the entire world to see in hopes that maybe a part of their lives would be changed. You had always been able to detach yourself from that.

However while inside with Jeonghan, such a thing was not possible. You felt your throat constrict and your eyes grow wet and for a short while, you couldn’t breathe either. It made no sense really. Why did it hurt to see this man, you knew nothing about, in pain to the point you wanted to cry? Why did it sadden you so much that he was limping harder than before?

You wanted to approach him, ask if he was okay, if it had been too much. But it was out of line, it was one that you knew you shouldn’t cross. There was this itch though, in the back of your mind, begging you to just ask, to just take a step closer to him.

It happened so suddenly that you didn’t even see it happening. One second it was just the five of you in the parking lot, in the next there were reporters with mics and cameras pointed at Jeonghan. You noticed how Jeonghan raised his shoulders at the same time he lowered his head. He couldn’t see in front of himself, you were certain.

Joshua put an arm around Jeonghan’s shoulder while he used the other one to keep them away from him. Not that it was of any use. One of the cameras was directly under his face as if trying to get an expression, anything at all, that could show his discomfort with the situation. From somewhere behind you there were flashes.

"Do you believe your injury was a result of your own carelessness?" someone asked.

You felt your blood run cold for a second and you froze in place, Seungkwan and Vernon behind you.

"Do you think your skating career is over after such devastating injuries?" someone followed.

"Did you regret pushing yourself so hard during training, knowing it led to your injury?"

"How did it feel to watch other skaters progress while you were stuck in rehab?"

"Are you worried that your injury will define your career more than your achievements on the ice?"

The questions got progressively worse and you wanted to scream at them to just shut up, and stop. How could they just ambush someone like that with those questions? It made no sense at all. And though you knew that it would cause more harm than good you wished Jeonghan would tell them all to fuck off.

Instead, he kept his head low and just slowly walked to his car while ignoring everyone around him, all the careless words being thrown at him.

You tried to take a step forward but were held back by Seungkwan, who gripped the strap of your purse. He didn’t say a word, just shook his head.

“They can’t just do that to him” you almost cried

“If you say anything, it might only make matters worse,” Hansol said, his voice sad.

That sudden need to protect Jeonghan felt weird but oddly natural as well. Weird because you knew that you shouldn’t, because you hardly knew the guy. Natural because it felt as if you had always done that like it was just second nature to you.

“He is used to this,” Seungkwan said, still not letting go of your purse.

“He shouldn’t be! They are barely treating him like a human!”

By the time you turned around, Jeonghan was already inside the car leaving the parking lot.

The clock on the top of your phone screen told you that it was 4:37 am. You hadn't even realized that you had spent so many hours still awake.

As soon as you got home from the rehab with Jeonghan, you took a quick shower, ate the leftovers from the night before, and started to look up Jeonghan’s performances.

The man was a celebrity amongst athletes since he was a child. He was always seen as a promise of the sport. He was good from the start. Performing moves that he was still too young to do, entering competitions boys his age never really competed in and somehow managing to either come up to the podium or even winning some of them.

Everything was displayed online. Yearly competitions, practices, and small moments of his life.

Jeonghan's entire life, at least the sports part, was exposed on the internet for anyone, from anywhere in the world, to see. And it wasn't just the competitions, having videos of that part seemed completely normal and expected.

What was scary was all the other content. Some photos of him in school uniform, not one where he was actually looking at the camera, but ones that were clearly taken in secret. Another one from when he seemed to have simply gone out for coffee with Joshua.

You knew he had fans, that he was liked wherever he went, and that he was always followed, but that seemed a bit much.

In reality, watching videos of the competitions was like a gateway to everything that came after.

You knew very little about Jeonghan, only what you had read about in all the articles that you found and all of them had one thing in common: Jeonghan was a huge diva, who thought he was superior to everyone. But after seeing how he had been treated that day, as soon as he got out of rehab, you knew it wasn't like that. It was as if they had appeared out of nowhere, one second the parking lot was empty and the next it was full of journalists, shouting things and asking questions that to many would seem harmless, but were clearly intended to hurt.

Instead of watching more competition videos, not that there were many you hadn't watched yet, you decided to look for the famous video of him treating journalists badly.

You had never found one so easily on the internet. You just typed "Jeonghan and journalists" into the search bar and it was the first video to appear.

It was a scene very similar to the previous day. Jeonghan was in the parking lot, walking towards the guy when he was surrounded by several journalists.

"You didn't get the podium today, are you disappointed?" one of them asked and that was the most harmless question he got. “Did you really try hard or did you think you would get a high score because you were the favorite?” “Why did you fall in such a simple jump?” “Don't you think it was an amateur's performance?”

You didn't want to keep listening to all those meaningless questions, but you couldn't take your eyes off Jeonghan. He still had short hair at the time, even covering his eyebrows. His jaw was clenched, his eyes were hard, and his gaze was focused straight ahead, as he walked slowly to his car. Joshua tried as best he could to control the journalists with their microphones and cameras, but he was just one man against many. Finally, after what felt like ages, two security guards appeared, pushing the journalists away as they began shouting profanities in Jeonghan's direction.

Could those people even consider themselves journalists? Real journalists, who took their work seriously?

There is a very fine line between being a journalist who asks incisive questions and one who is completely disrespectful to the athlete. And those people were anything but professional.

It was no surprise that after that Jeonghan refused to give interviews.

That whole situation happened years before, at the beginning of the previous Olympic cycle, but even so, it was still a moment that haunted him. People remembered him as just that guy, someone who refused to answer simple questions. But what exactly did these people expect? That he was all smiles when he failed to reach the podium, even though he was the favorite in the competition? That he smiles when he hurts?

Finally, you managed to understand why he acted that way, and why his answers were so polite and direct. Jeonghan didn't want to leave room for interpretation. Not that he had much of a choice. People only see what they want to see, but that didn't mean he couldn't try.

Jeonghan couldn’t take his eyes away from your back, he followed your every move. You stood next to Joshua, talking to him quietly, his friend showing you something on his phone. He felt something scratch at his neck. This new and unknown feeling.

It was unusual for Jeonghan, to want to have someone’s undivided attention. It was usually the other way around and he was never willing to do it, with anyone. And then there you were and suddenly he didn’t like that you were talking with Joshua.

It wasn’t like you seemed to be having fun either. You moved around with intention, your eyes always focused, your words and questions firm and straight to the point. Jeonghan couldn’t help but wonder if it was always like that with you. If your professional persona always took over who you were in other moments.

His curiosity was huge but his courage to ask was very little.

“She may seem like it, but she won’t bite your head off if you talk with her,” someone said on his left.

Seungkwan stood at his side, his hands clasped in front of him while he rocked on his heels.

“I think she will,” Jeonghan said.

Seungkwan took his reply as an invitation to sit.

“You know, in the office, people call her the ice queen” he too looked in your direction, at your serious expression "She’s like that most of the time”

Jeonghan looked at Seungkwan expectantly, he knew there was a but coming soon. All he needed to do was wait long enough.

“She didn’t want to take this job, our boss forced her to. She’s more into storytelling, real people, with real issues”

“Am I not a real person?”

The offense in Jeonghan’s voice made Seungkwan almost fall off his chair. He didn’t intend for his words to sound like that.

“Of course you are” he laughed nervously while trying to explain it as best as he could “If it were up to her, she would focus this documentary on you, on how you started skating, why, what attracted you to it, how it affected the rest of your life. But your team doesn’t want that, I think. We were told that you already gave many interviews on the matter so there’s no point in talking about it again. They want us to focus on your recovery and then you make it to the Olympics. She’s trying to figure out how to do that in a way that makes someone watch it”

Jeonghan nodded, feeling guilty. It had been his request to not the documentary so focused on the past and more on what was happening in the moment

“She also doesn’t like sports and hated the idea of the job, but that's beside the point”

Both of them laughed, eyes still on your back now that you talked with Vernon, giving him new instructions.

“I’ll make sure that she gets to do the kind of documentary she thinks is best”

Seungkwan stood up, a big smile on his lips.

“Who could have known that the ice queen and the ice prince aren’t actually that cold”

After months of just rehab, it’s finally time for Jeonghan to get back on the ice and it pained you a little to admit that you were looking forward to it. The videos you watched could only take you so far, you wanted to actually see the real thing. Him, in action.

Of course, you know that he wasn’t going to be able to do a third of the things he did on those videos. But you wanted to see him in his element, how he would behave when he was finally around the thing he loved the most in the world — his words, not yours.

The one thing you were able to learn from Jeonghan was the fact that he indeed loved what he did. Like most people, sometimes he hated it. It was the thing he was most passionate about, yes, but it was also his job, so there were days when he just hated and the mere idea of leaving the house was too much.

It was too hard to be a professional athlete, it demanded way too much of him. Of anyone, really. Sometimes he wanted to be like everyone else and just not put everything he was into it. But if he did that, he lost one single day, he was scared that he could lose an entire year and maybe that year turned into two and then he could lose his chance to go to the Olympics.

And he only had one change left.

So, instead of focusing on much he didn’t want to do, Jeonghan decided to focus on the fact that there was only a year ahead of him and he would be able to do whatever he wanted and have as many down days as he wanted.

He didn’t know what he wanted to do and what would be the after for him but it gave him something to look forward to.

“Are you nervous?” you asked him.

Jeonghan was someone who was mostly quiet. You noticed that once he started to feel more comfortable he was one to start the conversation and even crack a few jokes here and there. Seungkwan had been the first person he kind of opened up to, which had left you a hint of jealousy. You wanted to be one he talked with mostly because it was your job but also just because.

However, he had been especially quiet that day. The three of you went to meet him at his apartment. The idea was that you’d follow him the entire day, from the moment he woke up, to when he went to the doctor to get the final clear and then finally to the ring.

He had talked very little, his eyes always focused somewhere else. It was clear that his mind was traveling somewhere far, far away. So you left him be, quietly watching him just move around. A silent shooting day, you told yourself In the end, however, you had a job and he needed to do the talking.

“It’s been too long,” he said, his eyes never really leaving the ice “I don’t know if I can still do it”

You laughed, causing him to finally look at you, eyes wide on his face. He tried to look serious but the corners of his lips were turned slightly up.

“You just don’t feel confident, but you didn’t forget it” you looked at his ankle, it was still weird to see him without any sort of protection around it “How’s your ankle?”

He just shook his head and in that moment you chose to believe that he was said It doesn’t bother me anymore.

Through the interviews, you found out that Jeonghan is the kind of person to suffer in silence. It was clear from all of his previous injuries, how he competed while in pain and only ever said anything when it was almost too late.

“Do you think I can still do it?”

There was something in his voice like he was almost on the verge of breaking. He sounded vulnerable in a way that was entirely too new, in a way you wanted to push Vernon and his camera away because that was a part of him you knew he didn’t want the world to see.

Instead, you reached for his arm, patting it a couple of times, hoping that your touch, as ungraceful and awkward as it was, was able to soothe him, even if it was just for a moment.

“I was watching some of your competitions last night, again, you know? And that guy? He’s still in there, I’m sure of it, I’ve seen him”

You weren’t just saying that to cheer him up, your words were true. You had seen that version of him, little glimpses here and there. He was in the way his eyes suddenly changed and it was like he owned the entire room, in the way he suddenly turned confident, in the way he was charming in a way that was almost sickening but all too enchanting either way.

Whether or not he believed it himself, Yoon Jeonghan was a force to be reckoned with.

"What kind of kid were you?" you asked, looking up at Jeonghan.

He sat opposite to you, bent down to tie the laces on his skates. His hair covered his face, you were sure that he couldn't see much, but he didn't seem bothered by it in the least. Maybe he had just gotten used to it.

Four months had gone by since you started to follow Jeonghan and even before that, he had kept his hair long. And you hated to admit that he looked good, too good even.

"What kind do you think I was?" He smirked at you for a second before going back to his skates.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but smile.

"This is not how it works. I ask the questions here"

Jeonghan leaned back on his seat, giving you his full attention. His smirk did something to your insides. It felt tight and loose at the same time, like wild butterflies running around on your skin.

"Come on, humor me"

You pretended to be in deep thought, Jeonghan as a child had been something you thought about for a long time now. Even though he was very serious most of the time there were these small moments where he looked like a kid ready to do something he wasn't supposed to.

"I can only think of you as a troublemaker” you smiled, closing your notes knowing well that you’d make no progress at all with the filming “I’ve seen pictures of you and a child and although you looked very cute, I’m sure you were a handful to your mother”

Jeonghan laughed, throwing his head back and in that moment he looked so carefree.

Even since the start of the documentary Jeonghan had used his most serious expressions, a frown always taking over his beautiful features. But he had been back on the ice for a few days already and in those days he had looked the happiest you had seen him yet.

Of course, he still hasn’t practiced the way he wanted or the way he used to. He still needed to take things slowly: fewer hours, less power in the movements. But it was undeniable that he was a completely different person.

It wasn’t that he had been in a bad mood every single day but there was just something about him in his element, of him doing something he was obviously passionate about, that was so enchanting that it became impossible to look away from him.

“Where did you see those pictures?”

“You do know that I had to google you because I had no idea who you were, right?”

One thing you managed to learn about Jeonghan is the fact that, if in the right mood, he is a trickster and most of all, a flit. You weren’t even sure that he was aware of what he was doing, it seemed like second nature to him.

He put a hand over his chest, faking being in pain. His face contorted and a pout on his lips.

“I thought we were getting to know each other”.

Seungkwan coughed by your side, finally making you remember that there were people around you and that the entire interaction between you and Jeonghan was being recorded.

There was something about Jeonghan that always seemed to make you forget where you were, that maybe there were people around you. You could only suppose that it was the charm of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, who knew how to sweet talk someone.

And Jeonghan knew what he was doing, what kind of words or looks could get a reaction from a woman.

Most of the time while around Jeonghan you had to remind your heart to be calm and quiet. Being around him was a temporary arrangement, as soon as the Olympics started said arrangement would be done and you’d have to go back to your normal life. One that didn’t include Yoon Jeonghan. And you also knew that there wasn’t space for you in his life.

“We’re going to set up the cameras around the ice,” Seungkwan said awkwardly while dragging Verno by the hand.

You watched as the two walked away from you, whispering in secrecy. You could only imagine the kind of things that they were saying. If you knew Seungkwan at all, you were certain that it couldn’t be any good.

“Jeonghan, I ask questions and you answer them. And while one could say that I’m getting to know you, I don’t think it would be possible to say the same thing about me”

Jeongahn's smile was defiant when he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You have a no-bullshit policy, which I should have known, from the start, but I wasn’t expecting someone like you. Although you try really hard to pretend that you’re not, your eyes are kind and you quietly take care of those around you, me included sometimes. You got worried when I was in pain in rehab and when Vernon got hurt it seemed as if you were angry, but you were concerned about him and after that, you asked to have another staff with you so that he wouldn’t need to carry so many things on his own. You and Seungkwan bicker a lot but when he isn’t around for a day you are quieter and your questions have been more direct. That doesn’t make you a lousy documentarist, please don’t think that I’m saying that, you take your job very seriously. I’m saying that you put people above your job. I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to become a documentarist, to begin with, to tell stories”

You stared at him, mouth open wondering just how he had come up with all of that and why he had managed to hit everything right on the stop. Especially the reason why you became a documentarist. It seemed very obvious, yes, but it wasn’t something that you had said.

In fact, your personal life was something that very few people knew. You weren’t one to share your thoughts and what was on your mind with people. Seungkwan was a good friend, but he was a work friend so your personal life was just that, personal. Not that you had someone to share it with, either way.

The apartment was empty when you left and it was in the exact same way and you got back. You were on your own, with no parents, no siblings and most of your friends had given up on you somewhere along the way.

For the longest time, you put your job first. It came before anything and anyone. You were building your career and name at the time so it was hard not to put it first. It was your dream, one that your friends supported at first but were displeased when you decided to put it first.

You had thought that if you made it big on your job if you got hired by a big production company, you’d be able to find the happiness that you had searched for a long time. And while some of it was true, your career was on the right path and you did something you loved, you didn’t have a lot more beyond that going one.

It was become just you and your job.

Was it sad? Yes, but it was also the life you chose.

“Just because I don’t know details of your life, doesn’t mean that I don’t watch you, yn”

You watched as Jeonghan fell for what felt like the hundredth time that day. It didn't make sense, not really. At least not for you. And from the looks of it, for him too.

He was frustrated and completely angry. All those people looking at him, expectations high, waiting for something. He wasn't sure what. For him to fail? To see if he still could do it?

Everything was possible and impossible at the same time.

He couldn't stop his eyes from going after you every time you fell. Somehow, your reaction was the only one that mattered to him. The first few times your face was completely emotionless, as if you were staring at a blank wall. Then Jeonghan fell once again, and again, and again. He stopped counting at 10, but he knew it was much more than that actually. But your gaze, which was fixed on him, became more worried as the minutes passed and he hated being the cause of it.

Somehow, since he met you, only two things were on Jeonghan's mind: skating and you.

He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but you had taken over his every thought. It was as if you had walked through an imaginary door and entered his mind and decided that it was a great place to be.

Even on days when you didn't see each other because there was no recording, he was tempted to talk to you. And on one of those days, he just succumbed to the temptation of picking up the phone and calling you.

“Jeonghan, is everything okay?” was the first thing you said.

He hated that worry was the first emotion he awakened in you. He hated that the first thing you said wasn't "hello" like a normal person. But at the same time, the concern made him feel somehow welcomed. It could, of course, be all in his head, and what he saw as concern for himself was actually concern for the documentary.

"I just wanted to talk," he admitted.

Maybe it was because he had gotten used to talking to you, maybe it was because you offered zero judgment for the way he thought or reacted. Or maybe it was because it was you. Whatever it was, Jeonghan felt comfortable talking to you.

Telling the truth, about everything, was not difficult, in fact, it became something very easy. It was because of you, he knew.

"I realized I don't know anything about you"

You laughed and he listened as you moved through what he imagined to be his apartment.

"That's because I interview you and not the other way around"

He sat on the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him as he supported the rest of his weight on his arms stretched behind him.

"Do you think it's so bad that I know anything about you?"

You remained silent for a few seconds, seeming to think about the idea. It wasn't bad, not at all.

At several moments you found yourself with your cell phone in your hand, ready to send a message or call him. You weren’t sure what, but there was something about Jeonghan that just made you want to tell him everything.

"What do you want to know?" you said with a sigh.

"Whatever you want to share"

The great truth is that very little happened in your life. You lived alone, worked every day, and came home alone. Your last boyfriend, or even a fling, was over a year before. Your friends, if you could call them that, were all from work. Your life was quite still and dull. Even if you wanted to talk about work. Jeonghan was your job. There wasn't much to talk about.

"I don't think I have much to tell" you knew that what you were about to say wasn't the happiest topic in the world, but it was what you had to offer "My mother passed away when I was nineteen, since then I've been alone"

You could still clearly remember the day your father left. There wasn't a fight. He never packed his bag and left. One day he was there when you woke up, he gave you breakfast and took you to school, like he did on most days. But it was his job to pick you up and he never showed up. Your mother showed up instead, her eyes swollen as she did her smile to smile at you and explain to the teacher why she was so late. When you finally got home she said "Now it's just you and me. Daddy had to leave"

For months, years even, you waited for him to come back. You thought one day he would just appear in front of you. You were disappointed when it was your mother who showed up to pick you up when he didn't come to his birthdays when you called the number he had left with his mother and he never answered.

You waited until you turned 18 to go after him. You only had a name, but with that alone, a person can find everything on the internet. You found him in another state, working at a real estate agency. You sat down in front of him and talked for about half an hour. You made up a story about going to college and needing a place to live. You said your name and your mother's name several times, surname and everything, and at no point did he seem to connect one thing to the other. Until the last second, when you said you would think about renting the studio he had suggested, and he walked you to the door. He said, "I left for a reason, don't come back here."

You couldn't believe what you had heard. You couldn't understand why he left and why he never came back. But at that moment you decided that if he didn't want you, you didn't need him. Your mother had worked so hard to make sure you had everything you needed.

Exactly one year later, your mother died in a bizarre car accident. It was like being 7 years old again and losing another person, only in a much more painful way.

"You don’t have any siblings?" Jeonghan's voice on the other end brought you back "Relatives?"

You shook her head, even though you knew he couldn't see you.

"I was an only child, so no siblings. My mom was an orphan so relatives either. My father left when I was a child"

You and Jeonghan spent the whole night on the phone, talking about everything and nothing. From trivial things to more personal matters. His delight upon learning that you didn’t have a boyfriend didn’t go unnoticed.

Calls and messages became commonplace between the two of you. Your heart raced every time a new message arrived and it was hard to hide your disappointment when you realized it wasn't from him. On days when you didn't see each other, you would stare at your phone, waiting for it to ring, waiting for him to call.

So you hoped he understood when you shook your head in his direction, a request written on your face. That's enough for today, you can try more tomorrow, you hoped he would understand.

Instead of trying one more time after he fell once again, he skated to the edge of the ice. His face was red from the effort, and his chest rose and fell in an uneven rhythm trying to force air back into his lungs.

"I want everyone out," he said, his voice broken.

Seungkwan and Vernon didn't even question it, they simply started putting away the equipment. Jihoon, who had shown up unexpectedly to "supervise" didn't seem to understand what was going on, but turned to help Vernon.

Jeonghan's coach was the only one who approached him, his hand on the athlete's shoulder.

"Go home, rest. Tomorrow we try again"

Jeonghan shook his head. He would only get out of there after managing to make the damn jump, even if he had to stay the whole night.

"Just half an hour more, but I want to be alone"

The coach clearly didn't like the idea, but he knew it was stupid to try and make Jeonghan change his mind.

You turned to him, looking at his face, trying to figure out if he was in pain or if he was just being a big blockhead. Without giving yourself the luxury of thinking about what you were doing, you placed your hand over Jeonghan's and squeezed for a second. You hoped he understood what you meant.

"You have to rest"

You knew everyone was watching, that despite saying they were leaving they weren't actually moving. Jeonghan didn't seem to care and for a moment you decided not to care either.

“Stay,” he said softly, so only you could hear him “please.”

Some strands of hair were stuck to Jeonghan's face, you wanted to get them out of his face, but caution spoke louder. You looked over your shoulder and everyone was still looking at the two of you, but as soon as they noticed your gaze they started moving again. Seungkwan shouted “We’re leaving” and seconds later the door slammed.

Finally, you were alone.

“You have to rest,” you said again.

You took advantage of the fact that no one else was there and removed the strands of hair stuck to his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. Jeonghan sighed, his eyes closing as he leaned towards you. Just that little touch wasn't enough.

“I need to get it right”

"If you stop now and rest you will know what you are doing wrong"

A half smile shined on Jeonghan's face as he leaned further into the barrier, his face just inches away from his.

"My ego loves it when you say I'm doing something wrong”

You pushed him back, needing a little bit more space to yourself. He was too close, you could feel his breath on your nose and cheeks. It was suddenly as if the world was made of Yoon Jeonghan, it was just him and no one else.

“I’m sure your ego will be just fine”

Instead of pulling your hand back, you allowed it to stay in his chest. Jeonghan smiled for a second before pressing his hand over yours.

“Just another 30 minutes” he repeated what he said to his coach “I promise I’ll stop in precisely 30 minutes”

You nodded with a sigh. There was nothing you could do to stop him. Something told you that even if you threatened him to leave he would stay and practice, he would stay on the ice for far more than just 30 minutes if you weren’t around.

So you sat down and waited for him. And he fell time and time again, his face growing displeased with himself at each passing second, each time he jumped but didn't manage to land.

Jeonghan had done that same jump countless times before with ease as if one's body would simply perform such movements. To him, it always seemed as easy as walking. You had seen it in all of his videos, almost in trance by him.

“If you’re not done in twenty-one minutes” you pretended to look at your imaginary watch “I’m taking you out of there by force”

Jeonghan threw his head back, laughing.

“Remember when you said that you never skated before?” Jeonghan asked after finally being able to breathe properly again.

You weren’t too sure how, but he had stopped after 30 minutes. A big smile on his face after he managed to land the jump after so many tries. After getting it right once, he didn’t get it wrong again. It was like something clicked inside his brain as if he had found the last missing piece of the puzzle.

Of all the things you said to Jeonghan, from the most personal to the most trivial, that was, by far, the only one you regretted. You had told him over the phone but he looked horrified, it was easy to imagine the wide eyes on his face.

But him standing there, in front of you, with a smile that could only be seen on the face of a mischievous child, said much more than any words he could utter.

“No,” you said, shaking your head, already moving back.

You had learned several peculiarities about Jeonghan in all the months you spent by his side, and one of the most glaring was the look in his eyes when he was about to do something he shouldn't.

“You have to try, at least once” his lips were a mixture of a smile and a pout “You will have the best teacher in the world”

You saw it and shook your head again.

“I can’t trust a teacher who spent the day falling” you pointed to the rink behind him.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You didn't know if your words would offend him, you hoped he knew it wasn't your intention. But you also knew that hell was paved with good intentions. Jeonghan was silent for a minute, his face serious, his eyes not leaving yours for an entire minute.

Then he smiled, his nose wrinkling a little as he laughed, loudly. It didn't take long for you to join him.

“You’re evil,” he said, trying to control himself, but failing “This way you’re going to break my heart”

“I think there are few things in this world that can break your heart.”

You would definitely be one of them, Jeonghan wanted to say, but he held his tongue in his mouth. He knew he couldn't say that, he knew that any word said wrongly could simply ruin everything he had built so far. If he could even say he built something. He liked to think so.

From the first time you spoke, Jeonghan knew there was no going back, at least for him. He had never done anything like that. He had never called someone in the middle of the night simply because he wanted to hear someone's voice. And in this case, it wasn't just someone's voice, it was your voice that he wanted to hear.

With each passing sentence, Jeonghan found himself falling more in love with you and he wasn't able to say why. Maybe he could blame it on your eyes, always so focused, but somehow when they turned to him, they seemed so sweet and sincere. Or your voice, which gave orders and asked incisive questions, but as soon as the cameras were turned off it became gentle and almost shy. Maybe it was the fact that you seemed like a lioness when you were working, never giving space for unfounded questions, but you were shy when it was just the two of you alone.

He liked this version of you, who was right in front of him, who seemed completely comfortable with him, to the point of making jokes — something that until that moment you hadn't done yet.

“We always have extra pairs in the back, I'm sure one of them is your size” he had made sure you would, with Seungkwan's help of course “And then we try it, what do you think?”

Even though you were shaking your head, you went to the closet where you knew the skates were stored.

With your knees bent and shaking, you stepped onto the ice and immediately regretted giving in to Jeonghan's will. You didn't know how he had managed it, but in the closet, there was a brand new pair of skates, your size. Jeonghan had smiled as he bent down to tie your shoelaces,

“I’m going to fall flat on my face,” you said as you grabbed the bars.

Jeonghan held your face in his hands, your eyes fixed on his.

“I won’t let you fall”

The way the words left his lips made your heart skip a beat, or maybe several of them. You could feel it on the back of your throat and you could swear that your hands shook a little as you accepted the hand Jeonghan had extended to you.

You wished it could just stop. Not for your heart to stop beating altogether but for it to stop reacting to Jeonghan. Everything changed after that first call and you weren’t too sure of where it was. He had, someway, somehow, become a pivotal point of you. His voice, his eyes. The way tingles started to run down through your body the moment his skin came in touch with yours. How, despite all odds, he made you feel safe in a way you weren’t too sure you had ever experienced before.

When he said that he wasn’t going to you fall, you believed him so you held his hands — strong enough that you were sure were hurting him but he didn't seem to mind — and allowed Jeonghan to pull you into the rink.

“Don't move your feet” he said, voice ever so sweet but with a slight hint of teasing “I know it's probably hard, but let me take control here”

Forcing out all of the remaining air inside your lungs, you did as he asked. Instead of keeping your focus on the ice under your feet, you kept them in Jeonghan's face. A mistake, of course.

His eyes were too intense if you could say that. You didn't want to understand what was happening. Perhaps for the first time since you met Jeonghan, you didn't want to understand what it could mean. You were scared. What, exactly, you weren’t sure.

“I didn’t even have to ask you to look at me,” he said and you laughed a little, automatically looking away “Keep looking at me”

The whole experience of skating for the first time, or being guided, was not being registered by your brain. All you could see, think, feel, was Jeonghan, as if he had become a central point of everything.

“I think we should stop here”

You hoped your voice was loud enough and judging by the look on Jeonghan's face, it was. The smile fell from his lips and it was as if a small light in his eyes had gone out.

You hated that you were the one causing that reaction in him, but you knew it was best to stop everything before it went too far.

"I thought that…"

“We can’t blur the lines that much” you shook your head.

You didn't know exactly who you were trying to convince, him or you. You also weren't sure you had to convince yourself of anything. It was as if your brain had split in two. One part, probably the loudest, wanted you to just let things happen. You knew you weren't doing anything wrong, you weren't doing anything much really. What you did outside of your working hours and who you did it with was your problem and no one else's.

But the other part, one that spoke softly and that should have had much less strength, said it was dangerous, but also didn't offer much reason to be dangerous.

Yet somehow, that was the side you chose to listen to.

"Why?" He asked forcing his feet to the ground, making the two of you stand in the center of the rink. “What line are we blurring?”

You shook your head, hands clinging to his waist as you felt your feet begin to slide.

“I don’t know” you whispered in response “We are working”

Jeonghan leaned forward and pressed his lips to your cheek. With a sigh, he let his forehead fall onto your shoulder and closed his eyes.

You didn't know exactly where your skepticism came from, but you were also sure it wasn't completely unfounded. But truth be told, you wanted to blur that line and any others that might appear along the way.

“Go on a date with me,” he said “If you still feel that way, there’s nothing we can do. Just don’t… don’t stop something that hasn’t even started yet”

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yok00k · 5 months

Text

telepatía

pairing: idol!jk x model!oc

genre: fluff!

“a kilómetros estamos conectando”

—synopsis: when you’re getting ready for a party and jungkook, who’s thousands kilometers away from you, wants to video call.

word count: 1,082

warning: ldr, they’re disguisingly so cute, the word “baby” was said for about 1 million times it’s sickening, different timezones, oc dress in front of jk, mention of insomnia, anxiety, stress, mention of an uncomfy situation of oc where other men were being men, protective jk (this jk is not a manipulator, trust), 1st person pov(im so sorry)

author’s note: my second drabble/fluff!!! this was shorter than I wanted it to be but there will be few (idk how many, it depends to the future me) series of idol!jk x model!oc. <the meaning of ‘mahal ko’ means ‘my love’ in filipino>

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Taking a cold shower after having an intense leg day plus cardio at the gym hits so different. I feel like a brand new person after getting out of my bathroom. I then settle down in front of my vanity table and begin doing my skin care + makeup. As I finished a smooth base of foundation, my phone vibrated.

2 messages received from

mahal ko🐰🤍

|| hey baby

|| can we facetime plz? wanna see u

[10:33 pm]

his text was unanticipated at this hour since it’s 5 am in Korea.

|| sure bb

[10:34 pm]

mahal ko wants to facetime

drop everything i have with my hands, i swiftly hit the green button, eagerly to see and hear his voice. we’re mostly texting these days because of having different time zones and working schedules to follow. Oftentimes when he’s free and wants to facetime me, I would be either at work or sleeping and vice versa.

“hi pretty!!” he cheerfully greeted me as my phone screen revealed his cute sleepy face. As usual, he’s wearing one of the eight Supreme beanies i got for him when I was in Tokyo. [side story: i was just strolling in the streets of Harajuku when i found this one clothing store that has a lot of stuffs i know jungkook would like and that’s when i bought those comfy beanies along with other nice things]^_^

“helloo, my ggukie can't sleep?” i asked while finding something i can lean my phone on so that i can continue doing my makeup

“응.. i'm trying to sleep but can’t.“ he simply explained as he placed his phone on the side of his bed, moving his naked body to a more comfortable lying position. His arm filled with cool, artistic tattoos is out and on sight, while his other arm were covered with the thick white comforter, so as his entire body.

“What's been going on in your mind?” I know that something is bothering him at times like this. i get that having the job and lifestyle he has, isn’t merely easy. the pressure, the media, the fans, everything. But although he deals with all these things, I never once heard him complain about them because he knows that that’s what he signed up for the day he chose to pursue being an idol.

“Just been stressed lately with rehearsals and I'm still jet lagged, maybe I have insomnia? ‘m not sure but it’s driving me crazy. now i get what u mean when u say ur body is tired and ready to sleep but ur mind isn’t.” he further describes how he feels. The worry and anxiety is written in his facial expression.

“my poor kookie you could’ve call me earlier and i would help you to fall asleep”

“but you were at the gym. i know you like blasting reggaeton music while working out.” he pouty responds. well, in his defense he’s right. I love that he remembers small details about me but nothing can top my love for him.

“i do that but I prefer listening to my boyfriend’s angelic voice while working out so that i’ll have motivation to do more reps.” replied to him right off the bat. realistically i meant what i said. I usually don’t like talking to people when doing workouts but he is an exception.

I received no words but a soft laugh. He must have thought I was kidding. I took a glance at him before I put lipgloss on[his favorite shade].

i can see him covering the blush he has all over his face. i'm very glad to see him having relief.

‘’Where is my pretty girl up to? hmm?” he curiously asks as i put highlights as my last step to finish up the look

“just going to the club for Sakura’s birthday party, i'm running out of social energy almost every day because of work and parties but I can't miss this event” I explained as I headed over to my walk-in closet.

“hmm ‘kay tell her i said happy birthday. what are you gonna wear?”

“well i'm debating on wearing a black leather mini skirt with this asymmetrical black top and for shoes i have this black knee high boots or i just go with this simple black mini backless dress with these red bottoms high heels” i say as i show him all the clothes. he and I almost have the same taste in fashion. if we were to combine all of our clothes, they are pretty much all black. whenever it’s shoes, jackets, tops, pants, etc. this is why buying clothes for one another isn’t difficult for us.

“What did I tell you about mini skirts bb?” oh. i forgot that he allows me to wear mini skirts unless i’m with him since an incident happened when i was in the club and random guys were making me so uncomfortable by giving disguising lust looks and nastily commenting on my skirts. Although he and I know that no matter what a girl wears, guys in the clubs will act like animals regardless. He told me to not wear it because he’s controlling me but rather because he won’t be there to protect me if something happens.

“ok then the second choice it is” i confirmed, putting the first outfit choice back to where they belong.

“how about you wear that mini skirt when we go on a date? how’s that sound?” he suggests.

“ok then ggukie”

“dress in front of me?” he boyishly asks, using his deep alluring voice. He definitely knows what he’s doing. How can I say no to him?

After dressing, I proceeded to put on the Cartier necklace with his initials in it that he gifted to me when he first came to visit my penthouse in Chicago.

“still have my oversized leather jacket with you?” he inquire before he yawned

“yupp, why?” I curiously asked

“bring it with you please. i don’t want you getting cold in there” he softly requested. him and his simple gestures make me fall in love with him deeper.

“i will baby thank you”

“i love you ___, don’t look at other men” jk murmur jokingly. Well, I hope he said that in a humorous way for the reason that I assure him with my sincere words almost every hour.

“ I love you more gguk i’ll update you ok?” he just hums, waving his hands leisurely to say goodbye.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkookxreader #jungkook imagine #jeon jk #jungkook ff #jjk x you #bts jk #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook #SoundCloud

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marleemutt · 6 months

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TLDR: im a black trans artist who can use some help right now following the sudden passing of my only sister - her doberman is now the responsibility of my parents and we can use help for his food, supplements, toys etc.

Kofi (help me send Chewy orders to my parent's house)

Wishlist (literally send him things like toys, treats, etc.)

⬇️ more info ⬇️

hey guys

some of you might be aware of this already, but early October, my eldest sibling & only sister suddenly passed away due to a seizure, she had been dealing with epilepsy her whole life.

this has been incredibly difficult for me, and my family. her passing was incredibly sudden, she was only 30.

for the past month or so ive been struggling to find any motivation to draw, and barely able to work.

she was the incredibly devoted owner of a doberman named Remi(Ramsey). Me and my sister traveled 4 hours to pick him up three years ago. He's a goofball who tears up socks and needs constant supervision. My parents love him, but I can tell he is a lot of work for two people who have fulltime jobs and have lived long lives.

I'm going to try to help them take care of him as much as possible, I feel that it's the least we can do to honor my sister's memory, since she loved him so deeply.

My sister always wanted a doberman, for years she would watch videos about dobermans and talk about them to anyone who would listen.

Remi wasn't easy to raise - I shared a room with my sister when she got him in 2020, she still worked a 9-5, five days a week, so I was his nanny for most of his difficult childhood. I was his chew toy for the first year of his life about - but that only made him bond closer to me. If he wasn't following my sister, I was choice #2. Dobermans are "velcro dogs", they were bred to guard their owners, and because of this, they are fiercely loyal. I've been moved out of my parent's place for going on 3 years, and my sister had just moved with Remi out a few months prior to her passing.

A week before my sister's sudden passing, we had to board Remi at my dog daycare job while my family and I took a trip out of state. When dropping him off, although he was happy to see me again for the first time in months, the moment my sister turned her back to him he began to panic. He got through the boarding all right but my coworkers told me he would cry and wait by the door for me or her. When my sister picked him up, they said he jumped all 80+lbs into her arms.

Since my sister's passing, Remi has been directionless. He's with my family, people he trusts, but he's bored, confused, and heartbroken. My sister would often take him to the dog park, social events, on runs, etc. but my parent's can't do that in their age. If my apartment allowed large dogs, I would take him, but I can't, and I see him maybe twice a month if possible.

Ramsey's Christmas List

I made a christmas list for him of things that might help my parents better take care of him. We're trying different food brands out because he struggles with frequent stomach issues, and we can't seem to figure out what food my sister was feeding him. This list is by no means a necessity for him, but I tried to add things to help with his boredom and keep him stimulated when my parents can't give him all their attention.

i do want to state that my family is capable of providing him with the essentials to live, we arent irresponsible. i would just like to help my parents out since a 3 year old 80-90lb doberman is a lot of work to be suddenly placed on them soley. And I worry for his health and well-being sometimes - Remi has a tendency to eat/tear random objects when he's bored.

please consider donating whatever you can. Everything goes directly to him.

thank you for taking the time to read this, and possibly reblog if possible. ❤️

#artists on tumblr #black artist #black lives matter #mutual aid #doberman #doberman pinscher #trans artist #trans day of visibility #tdov

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mewtwoandme · 3 months

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Alright imma be real with ya'll...

I haven't been doing great mentally lately. You guys have constantly heard me bitching about my seasonal depression and it getting in the way of my artistic motivation yada yada lol Well, it just keeps refusing to let up. I've been trying to fight it, work through it, hoping that it would go away if I just keep working, when in all honesty that's mentally draining me even more. Now, there have been a few times where the drive to draw would come in spurts and I would finish a few small things here and there and I recently did the new blog banner and all, but as quickly as that motivation appears, it vanishes again. It's been an ongoing cycle since December, I haven't been very productive at all with the more important things and I've barely even touched the Baby Arc since SD hit. And lately this rut has started to bleed into things outside of art and affect my motitivation to do daily responsibilities as well, to the point half the time I feel like a vegetable while house work continues to pile up around me...I'm thinking I may need to do things a bit differently for awhile.

Obviously it's been too difficult to draw right now. My SD had never been this severe before, so there needs to be a change. I can't keep up my usual routine of wake up, go to work, come home, draw, repeat. I need a bit more variety for the time being, maybe making time to do other things that make me happy aside from art will do me some good. That being said though...ugh I hate this, I don't even wanna say it, but the Baby Arc might have to be put off yet again for awhile. I thought about all this last night and was literally crying over it because like, I'm finally here!! We made it to the point of Blu being officially introduced and then seasonal depression decides to come in and fuck up everything I've been trying to do. Like I took a step forward, then three steps back! It just really feels like a kick to my nonexistent balls man...Regardless I think a step back right now is necessary, so hopefully you guys understand, yall usually do anyways ^^

So yeah, I guess here's another art hiatus...don't expect to see anything probably until the end of February, or even March, cause I'm hoping the SD will start to go away by then

#this whole post makes me angry #but its something i feel i need to do anyway #for my sanity's sake #cant help but feel disappointed in myself though...#mod speaks #mod announcement #art hiatus

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d34dxr0ses · 1 year

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|| Everlasting Ink ||

TattooArtist!Boyfriend!Xavier Thorpe x Fem!Reader -- Summary: You've always been Xavier's muse, inspiring and motivating his work, but right now he wants nothing more than for you to be his canvas for his most recent design. Warnings: MDNI/18+/Tattoo artist Xavier AU/Aged Up characters/Spice/Xavier giving reader a sternum tattoo/Kissing/Pet names (Angel;Babe;My love)/Pinch of Possessive!Xavier A/N: This is the first fic I'll be posting here, so I hope you guys like it! (Also this was written at 1am so apologies for any mistakes)^^

It had been 15 minutes since Xavier started looking at you, still cleaning and sterilizing his tattoo gun, and he has yet to look away. You were reading a book you had picked up from the library before you met up with your boyfriend in his art shed, that was hidden in the woods on Nevermore's campus. Though you were deeply invested in your book, you couldn't shake the feeling of his gaze, so you glanced up to meet his adoring eyes.

"What?" You laughed out, inspecting his face. He looked like a kid who was scared to ask his mom for some candy, but his eyes were much wider (lost in thought, clearly), and his cheeks slightly more red.

"I uh.." He cleared his throat and looked down at the cloth and tool in his hands, that he had been thoroughly wiping every inch for the past several minutes; before continuing "My love, and you can absolutely say no, but well- I finished a design that I've been working on, and I was hoping to tattoo it on you?" He placed his tattoo gun on the desk before quickly rummaging through all his papers before finding his sketch book.

You stood up from where you sat and approached his chair, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind as you stared at the drawing he flipped open too. You already knew you would probably have let him the moment he asked in such a sweet tone, but you were stunned by the piece. It was a fairly larger sternum tattoo, that would wrap around your chest and peak in between your boobs. The drawing had such intricate details, and little parts that made it appear that he had designed it just for you. Even the chest model he had drawn matched yours damn near perfectly.

"Xavier.. That's beautiful, I'd be honored to be you canvas." You said the last part in a fake, more proper sounding accent. His eyes lit up and his head snapped back so he was facing you. You could've swore that if he had a tail it would be wagging.

"Wait seriously? Like now? Can we do it now?" You could only imagine how long a piece like this would take, and it was already pretty late, but you had enough caffeinated drinks that you really didn't care, with the look he had stuck on his face you'd probably let him cover every inch of your body in his drawings, hiding your skin away in the ink.

That's where you sat now. Lying on your back, topless and staring at the drawing of your tattoo in his book. Your page. Sure, he had a lot of drawings of you, but this was different. It wasn't your face, your body, your hair. No, this was you. This was something that clearly showed that he took a great look into who you really were. Each line told its own story; then you noticed it, scattered throughout it was letters, unnoticeable unless you were specifically looking for it, letters that spelt out his name. A grin climbed onto your face, as closed the book, setting it on the desk closest to you. You looked down at the boy with long brown hair, who's bangs had now been tied back.

"Your name huh? Claiming me now?" Blood now rushed back to his face. It was a part of the design he had completely forgotten about. A part that he sketched out while thinking about you with his name stained onto your body, showing that you were truly his, and his alone.

"I forgot about that, babe I promise I wouldn't try to tattoo my name on you without perm-" but you cut him off. He was almost frantic, which was cute, but always led to him rambling on nervously for at least 10 minutes.

"I like it, its not like its in bold, neon ink, keep it. Please?" You added the please with a small whine for good measure, to make sure he wouldn't feel bad about it. He just nodded and started prepping you for the stencil.

This was your first tattoo, so you weren't exactly prepared for the cold liquid to be sprayed on your body, but when it was you couldn't help but flinch, which made your usually gentle boyfriend, push down slightly on your chest.

"Angel, I know you've never had this done, but for this I'm gonna need you to stay perfectly still once I get the gun out." His voice was stern and dry, a huge change in pace from the timid boy from a moment ago, but not an unwelcome one. You found it quite attractive the way he could switch back and forth like that. You just nodded, and went back to admiring him at work.

It had been several hours since he started the tattoo, it was decently painful, but at the same time felt really nice. You had finally adjusted to the way he was doing it, when he suddenly lifted the tool and stood up, readjusting himself. You thought he was just stretching after sitting uninterrupted for so long, but instead he moved onto the table where yo were, positioning his knees on either side of your hips, squeezing you gently to keep you in place. How flustered you were must've been clearly shown on your face because, still keeping the machine away from you, he leaned down and kissed you, you could feel his smirk in the kiss. He was loving this. You'd been watching him the entire time, not his work, but his face and body movement, and he knew it. He himself had a hard time keeping his eyes on his art. Your breasts were completely exposed to him, and he loved knowing that he was the only one allowed to see you like this.

He finally broke the kiss, giving you a moment to fix your breathing, and stop moving before returning to the tattoo.

It was nearing sunrise when the tattoo was done and yet you both still felt wide awake. He hadn't moved from his spot straddling your waist since he got there, ,but he did have to pin down your shoulder every so often when it tried to move on it's own. He was surprised that you didn't ask him to stop for a break at all. You were in a trance like state watching his every movement, but at the very least it kept you still. He brought his phone out and took a photo of "the tattoo" He told you, but you knew exactly why he was so precise with his angles.

#xavier thrope imagine #xavier thorpe #xavier x y/n #xavier x you #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe wednesday #wednesday fanfiction #xavier thorpe AU #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier x reader #percy hynes white #wednesday characters x reader #wednesday netflix #xavier thorpe x fem!reader #percy hynes white x reader #minors dni

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gowonminajxx · 11 months

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i’ve never been so desperate for a one night stand miguel fic 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

listen i think i saw a twt art piece where uhh lets just say miguel was nude and he was walking away after what looked like what a one night stand was. so im kinda basing it off that. but thanks for this req, def sparked a lil SMTHN !! 🕷️ artist is yunonoai

// CWs :: mentions of sexual actions (blowjobs p in v all that yada yda dayd adya).., swearing, drinking, miguel being a dumb btich. not proof-read.

[] pre a/n :: this req was really cool. thank u for supporting my work!!

// plot (if any) :: you proceeded to have a one night stand with miguel, who was often recognized as the boss of the spider society. what happens after is a mystery. for fem!readers but can be for gn!readers with diff word placements

working as a spider-person at spider society was the best life you could wish for. that was, until you met miguel o'hara.

the two of you bonded over family values and need for a family in a perfect life, the benign setting furthering your relationship with him. your eyes always seemed to wonder around his lips whenever he spoke to you, which seemed to be the same case for him.

a night had passed where you two were talking in his office, planning on future missions. he liked to keep his work strict when it came to spider society, meaning "no funny business" -- as he would usually call it. one conversation led to another, a hand to another, and lip to lip, before it was you and him in a bed.

he had brought you back to his universe for a proper setting to talk informally, outside of the work at spider society. he felt uncomfortable talking about things not related to anomalies and his job at the headquarters.

by one thing led to another, the two of you had shared drinks over a conversation about relationships -- how deep they were and how sometimes, just so hard to maintain. you two were into deep shit, speaking even though the only thing the two of you were paying attention to were eachother's extremely kissable lips.

another and another drink only led you to the point where your legs wrapped around his tiny waist, his hips bucking back and forth between your legs as he thrusted his length into you. ripples were sent through you as his largeness felt like it was abusing your walls, almost like his cock was pushing them out of the way to kiss your cervix roughly.

he had fucked you like he was an animal, like a predator looking for its prey so vigilantly. he made sure all of his moves would pleasure you and put your sounds in all the right tones and pitches, your moans being like music to his ears. he slapped himself against you until you couldn't take it anymore, the blankets being soaked with the both of your liquids.

on the other hand, his grunting and animalistic sounds that escaped his lips so easily made you want even more and more of his dick, no matter how much it hurt. his size was unsurprisingly huge, and it felt like it was going into your stomach as you heaved for air in front of him.

your clit tingled with overwhelming pleasureful sensations after he pulled out, your whole body trembling as your legs that were once supported by his waist, lowered. that pretty clit was still open to him though, and he took all the chances he had.

for what seemed like forever, he took every single inch of you by swirling his tongue around, tasting your walls. the walls that he had just abused with his huge cock.

his tongue was longer than the usual human, causing even more whimpers and explicit sounds to leave your mouth, driving him crazy. it was a motivation factor for him, his tongue delving deeper into your pussy, his lips forming into a smile against it. what made you shake is whenever he'd speak to you.

"you like that, my cock hurting you so badly?" he'd tease.

"i just can't get enough of this pretty clit." he'd often brush his lips against your folds, chuckling lowly.

it all felt like a fever dream. fucking around with someone who had such high authority at the headquarters, in the man's own home. you had began thinking of it every day since then, but mainly thinking about how he treated you after.

the moment you woke up, you heard the shower sounds coming from the bathroom attached to the bedroom. you instantly felt around the sheets with your hands, eyes widening as you realized what you had done.

you weren't exactly mad that your boss fucked your brains out, but you weren't exactly pleased that it might be a little awkward from now on.

you wiped your eyes hardly with your hands, facepalming before instantly straightening your posture as you heard a door click, miguel exiting the bathroom. his eyes glanced over to you, before he reached for his dresser, pulling out some basic clothes.

eyes darting at his back, you noticed claw marks and kisses all over his back and neck. suck marks, and soft and small bite marks decorated his thick neck. those were your marks. who else would it be?

you glanced around at the rest of the bedroom, before noticing you were completely naked. flinching, you covered yourself shortly with the blankets, the softness growing over you as you hid underneath, flustered. your bra and ripped clothing from last night decorated the dresser in front of the bed.

he got changed, but you couldn't help but stare at his muscular back, and his bare ass, which also had small claw marks on them. your nails.

miguel was now halfway dressed, grabbing his shirt before you freaked out, blurting sudden words at him. "are you just gonna leave?" you asked, voice a little strained, worried, even.

"y/n, i think we both know i'm a busy man." he grinned smugly. your feelings for him drooped a little, you couldn't tell if he was shitting on you or just plainly teasing you, like a cute couple. eyes narrowing, you stared back at him.

"um.. i'll see you.. at HQ then?" you muttered to him, but he didn't pay any mind as he walked out in a shirt and sweats. the door clicked, and you sighed, your head falling back on the pillow.

what would happen at the hq?

a/n :: hope u enjoyed this !!! i 4 sure did,,,, writing a bitchy miguel truly hurt my feelings for him but yk that was uhhh definitely steamy

#atsv #atsv smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara smut #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel ohara #miumiulicious

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evelmiina · 5 months

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Friend asked me if I'm depressed, but I don't think I am at the moment. To be honest this year my overall mental health has improved, more stability and motivation in life overall. Being a little isolated and far away from my friends still sucks, but I'm making more art for myself and I have a nice job for now, which I'm thankful for.

I feel like it has been long time bubbling under, but I need to make my own stories even if they end up being stupid and bad. I've aspired and succeeded in finding work in entertainment arts and I've strived to become a better craftsperson, better painter and designer, to keep finding work. I still do want to improve and I adore 2D animation... but there's always some sort of underlying frustration or need to make my own things. I don't think I'm yet at place or if I ever will be, where I could just fully commit to it, for now it is just something I'm slowly trying to care for.

Maybe in part rise of image generation AI made me find determination to keep making my own things, a resolve and peace in seeing what matters. I still need work because I need to get by, but ideally I wish to work with good people and artists first, not bend myself over backwards to correspond to whatever I try to anticipate the industry needs. In a way I never have- I feel lucky to have just made things that resonated enough that I found work, but I always struggle because while it is my personal work that gets me hired, the job is not that. The job is painting and designing polished work and I am so frustrated with myself when I don't excel at it. I find myself trying to mould into being someone I'm not, someone I imagine has more tangible skills than, or an ideal of myself that I will never be. Put it this way if it makes any sense, I am not fully kind to myself and therefore I have often imagined if I was more disciplined or did so and so, I could be this or that. But this train of thought near took all the joy of creativity out of me, and convinced me there is no point in making things for myself, unless it was according to some ideals and expectations of myself.

In short I simply need to keep making bad things too. It is probably the only way I can better accept myself. I don't know where I stand in sharing them or how to approach sharing my personal art online, but all I can say creating is fun again.

#art vs artist 2023

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luv3rx · 11 months

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" Patience "

─ LEE TAEYONG X F!READER ♡

─ Taeyong fucks you after getting distracted by you while working on his mini album˚◞♡

─ 1.7k words

─ Smut, dom!Tae, Sub!reader, artist bf!Tae, praises, pet names(Baby and princess), choking, slight rough sex, slight breeding kink?, Unprotected sex.

─ A/n: IM DEFINITELY HAVING THS ALBUM ON REPEAT. ITS LITERALLY SO FIRE. Plus the concept photos literally have me on my knees for this man. Maybe This is just a little drabble. I was writing this at 3-4 am so I was tired asf. this is my first ever smut so please tell me if I did well or better. I enjoy feedback.

Taeyong 🔛🔝

Taeyong was really hyped about his new album. that's all he would talk about. He would constantly show the lyrics he worked on or would let you listen to the beats.

He would take you with him to every concept photoshoot and let you take some pictures of your own. He enjoys when you show support of his passion and excitement. He always tells your support makes him want to work harder and push himself as far as he can.

Of course he does try and make time for you in between. He wouldn't want to ever leave you out. You were the only thing keeping him moving and giving him motivation.

You were his antidote to keep him pushing and you were all the feedback he needed. No one else's opinion mattered except yours. If you liked it he would continue and if you find like it he would instantly scrap it.

He would constantly insist in using your voice for ad-libs but you would always deny and say you wouldn't want to hear your voice in a song when you already hear it enough. He was very upset about it but did didn't want to push you so he just decided to pay someone else to do itm

︶︶︶︶︶︶

“Babyyy! How much longer are you gonna work?! Im bored..” You complained sitting in the lounge chair behind Taeyong in his studio as he was working on another one of his songs for his album.

He was instinctively focused. He hadn't looked away from his computer screen yet. He could hear you whining behind him from one ear being uncovered by the headphones he wore on his head.

“Im almost finished. Just maybe a few more things I have to do. Be patient for me, baby.” He pleaded because your whining was making him want to just quit was doing and go to you but this album was something he had been striving for awhile now. He needed to get it finished, now or never.

“But it feels like we've been in here for hours and I need you..!” you whine even louder stretching yourself out on the lounge chair. You layed your head on the arm of the chair and groaned as he ignored you.

You sit up and watch him glare at you through the glass of the studio mic room. You glare right back him and roll your eyes. You would have been on your phone but he told you to leave it home so you could watch him work and motivate him but that backfired. You sigh heavily and decide to leave. You picked up your shoulder bag and heading towards studio door but the call of your name from Taeyong cause you to turn back around.

“Baby don't leave yet.. I need you.. I can't focus without you..” he implied as he finally removes his focus from the computer and towards you. He fully removed the headphones on his head. He put on his best begging face. He deep down did need you to focus but he also wanted you to just be near him.

“Well your more focused on that stupid computer. i think you need it more than me.. but I guess I'll stay.” You pout and sigh as you walk back over to the lounge chair but Taeyong calls out to you again.

“Dont say that ever and No, don't sit there. C'mere and sit on my lap, since you need me so bad.” He backs his up his chair and pats his lap for to come sit. He was in desperate need to be close to you right now. He was more desperate to be finished and be able to be with you too but he didn't wanna rush. This was an important project for him.

You hesitantly sat on his lap and he instantly wrapped his arms around your waist and held you for a bit. He took in the scent of your perfume and groaned.

“You always smell so good baby. Your making me crave you more.” He whined burying his face in the crook of your neck. His hands held on to your waist as he continued to take in your perfumes scent. He would be lying straight through his teeth if he'd say that this wasn't slightly turning him on.

He was finally able to push away his dirty thoughts and instantly got back to work. You on the other hand was needy for him to touch you and fuck so you decide to tease his a bit. You would slightly just rub yourself against him, to hopefully distract him.

You were slightly shifting on his lap and eyed even his slight movements. Taeyong was clearly unaware of what was going on your head but when you began to rub against he felt his breathe hitch in his throat. His hands stopped moving along his computer. His whole body pretty much came to a halt.

He tried to hold back any lewd sounds that was tempted to slip out. His breathes were shallow as he tried to keep himself focus and ignore any sexual frustration that was getting pent up right now.

“Y/n. Stop and sit still for me. Your driving me crazy right now..” He hissed. Both of his hands instantly went to hold your hips, his nails digging harshly into your hips. He head was hidden in the crook of your neck. You could feel his warm breath against your neck.

“But, Tae.. I need you baby.. really bad..” You whined. Rocking down against him again. His nails dug deeper into your hips as he breathes became more shallow. That's when you felt it. His hardened dick was poking against your covered cunt. He smirked at your sudden mood change when you felt him against you.

“Why so quiet now, baby? You were very vocal about how you wanted me so bad. I'll give you just what you want.” He started kissing your neck and grinding against you. He was mesmerized by the moans and whimpers that left you. It only made him want you more. He was quick to slide his hands up your skirt and rub your inner thigh, he wanted to tease you and make you beg for it.

His hand went higher up your inner thigh just close enough to your cunt. He looked up at you with his lustful gaze. He needed you badly and this was making his just as needy as you. 'Fuck it.' he thought to himself before pushing your panties to the sides and sliding 2 fingers between your folds, collecting your slick. He hummed and sucked your slick in his fingers, groaning.

“I would let you sit on my face but fuckk I'm absolutely do needy to feel that pussy around my cock.” He backs up his chair and makes you stand as he slides down his shorts. His dick immediately springs out from him not wearing boxers. He hissed from the feeling of his dick finally being free from it's containment. He stroked his dick a few times before motioning for you to cmere. He made you hover just above his dick and looked up at you with a big dough eyes.

“Tae please just fuck me..!” You whined slightly sinking down on his dick. You didn't really have to tell him twice. He instantly slammed himself into you. He didn't even give you enough time to adjust as he was instantly fucking in n out of you. He had wrapped his arms around your waist and had his face buried between your chest.

You bounced against him trying to match his utterly fast thrust but failed miserably as he was fucking you like an wolf in heat. He was drowning in your moans, Turning him on more. He was completely ignoring your pleas for him to slow down. He was to lost in his own thoughts and he wasn't gonna stop until your leaking with his cum.

“T-Tae, I'm gonna cum! Don't stop..” You begged. He instantly stopped and pulled out of you. You whined at the feeling of your orgasm being denied and the feeling of being empty.

“What are you-” “Just changing positions, princess.”. He replied after cutting you off. He picked you up and brought you over to the lounge chair and layed you out on your bag with you legs spread. He instantly slipped back into you and started pounding into you once again. He wrapped his hand around you neck while the other held your thigh. He couldn't help but lean down and kiss you harshly. Your lips plump and soft against his.

He pulled away from the kiss and lightly squeezed tighter around your throat. He watched as his dick slipped in n out of your cunt. He smirked when he watched your eyes in the back of your head, clearly fucked out from the way he was destroying your cunt right now. His dick was hitting your cervix repeatedly from this angle.

“C-cum.. I'm gonna cum..!” was all you were able to muster out before you released along his dick. You were completely out of it. Taeyong smirked to himself, proud that he was able to fuck you out of your mind like this. His pace didn't seize just yet. He slipped out of you and quickly slipped himself back in.

You were an total wreck under him from the overstimulation. his pace slightly seized as he felt himself about to cum. He pumped in n out of you a few more times before he felt himself release his seed inside you. He let himself sit inside for a little bit before pulling out quickly and pulling your panties back over to cover your cunt. Even tho it was an amazing sight to watch is seed drip out of you but he wanted your cunt to savor it.

He fixed himself back up and sit on the couch next to you. He knew you were completely out of it and had fallen asleep so he pulled you back into his lap and held you. He wrapped his coat over your shoulders and held you close.

He had completely forgotten about the song he was working on. He was to deep in thought and to focused on you. He didn't want to wake you so he decided to head home later in the morning.

He just sat there and held you. He kissed your cheek before dozing off along with you..

꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

#nct smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #nct x reader #nct taeyong #lee taeyong #taeyong x reader #taeyong shalala #taeyong smut #taeyong scenarios #lee taeyong x reader #nct scenarios

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themorningsunshine · 1 year

Text

Be My Muse

Pairing - Aritst!Bucky Barnes x Reader (Childhood best friends to lovers)

Summary - Muse - A person or spirit that gives an artist the desire to create things

Bucky has been in love with you for years, but just can't get himself to say it. So, instead, he decides to show you.

Warnings - None, just fluffy fluff

Word Count - 2.4k

a/n - This is for @buckybarnesevents ‘s Connect 4: June-iverse event. Card Number - C4037 for the prompt C1 - Aritst. Thank you to the lovely @bluehourbucky for motivating me to actually finish writing this.

"Come on, Buck. Just tell me."

You watched as the man you called your best friend shook his head, once again refusing to let out anything about his upcoming art exhibition.

"Oh, come on. Don't be this way." You didn't want to pressurize him, but he was acting weird about this exhibition for the past 2 months.

Every single time when he had an art exhibition coming up, he would ramble about it for weeks to you and you loved it. The way he was excited about what he had made and also the way his nervous ticks showed up always a week before the actual event, you loved every bit of it. But this time, he hadn't spoken a word remotely related to it.

To top it all off, he had said that this was the most important exhibition of his life.

You were bound to be scared.

"Okay, what about this, you give me a hint, about anything, it doesn't even have to be the centerpiece, literally anything, and I will stop bugging you." You were practically begging now.

"Come on, doll. You are going to come to the main event. You can look at it then." He said putting your cup of coffee in front of you, is pretty much one of the only ways to distract your mind.

"See it then? With everybody else? Is that what I am to you, now, Buck? Just a person in the audience? I knew this day would come." You picked up your cup and with a dramatic turn walked out of the room.

Had you stood there for a moment longer, you would have seen the way Bucky scratched his thumb and bit his lips, two of his most prominent nervous ticks.

Only if he could tell you that you weren't just a person in the crowd. No, you were much more than that. You were everything .

He just had to wait.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

The day of the exhibition came sooner than he would have liked, but to you, it couldn't have been further away.

Bucky had been a little distant with you for the past week and you hated it. You hated it more than anything else in the world.

Usually, he would take you with him to carry out the errands related to the exhibition, 'cause he always got super nervous and you would be there to ground him. Like anchoring him back to the shore.

But this time, you had absolutely no idea what even was the theme of this exhibition. Every single time you offered to go with him for anything, he would always make excuses, and you were confident that they were lies 'cause when did Bucky start to go grocery shopping in the middle of the week?

In the almost 2 decades you had known him, ever since you were a kid, he had never hidden something this important from you.

To say that you were scared would be an understatement.

When you finally entered the exhibition, you were proud to see how many people had shown up. You had always known that Bucky would do exceptionally well as an artist and you had taken every chance you got to tell him exactly that.

As you were about to turn the corner and look at the first painting, you almost collided with a wall of muscle.

You looked up only to be met by the gaze of one of your closest friends.

"Steve, hey!!"

You saw as Steve tried extremely hard to hide the huge grin that threatened to spread across his face and you could swear you saw happy tears brimming in the corner of his eyes.

You squinted as you took a step to the side to let a man walk in, realizing you were blocking the way.

"Y/n, you need to come with me."

"Not now, Steve. It's Bucky's exhibition. I need to stay here."

"He has asked you to come with me."

You narrowed your eyes as you asked, "Are you sure?"

Steve nodded as he took your hand to try and take you away from the paintings.

Dread filled your chest. Did Bucky really not want you in here so much?

You follow Steve as he leads you toward an isolated door of the arena.

You turn to look at him and he signals you to get inside.

"Okay, if you are kidnapping me, I might as well let you know that no one is going to pay a single penny as ransom to you." You joke. You have been friends with Steve almost for as long as you have been with Bucky and you trusted them with everything.

Steve chuckles before replying, "Just go in, y/n."

You open the door and take a step in, only to realize that it's pitch dark. Before you can turn back to look at Steve, the door closes behind you.

You take a deep breath and call out, "Bucky? I swear to god if it's one of your stupid pranks, I'll kill you."

Suddenly, a small light gets switched on beside you and you turn to realize that it beautifully illuminates a painting.

You take a step forward towards it, only to realize that it is a sketch of an eye and it's beautiful .

You can see the way it shines with a glint even though it's just a sketch and you bring your hand forward to run it across it.

It is then that you notice the little note sitting at the bottom right corner of the sketch.

All the city lights combined couldn't shine brighter than your eyes.

Your lips turned upwards into a smile as you read the words. Even though you had absolutely no idea what was happening, it was a huge comfort to know that it was all Bucky's doing. You could recognize that handwriting anywhere.

You looked around hoping to figure out at least something, but all that the little illumination below the sketch showed you was that it was more probable than not a huge hall.

Not even a moment later, another small light was switched on just beside the first one.

It was a painting this time. A very old painting.

It was a small girl sitting on a swing hanging from the tree. A blissful smile on her face, carefree and oblivious to the troubles of the world.

When you noticed the bracelet that she was wearing, you took a step forward, squinting to focus on the painting.

It was you.

And then the memory of that day placed itself at the forefront of your brain.

"Come on, Buck." The little 11-year-old girl called out to the brown-haired boy.

He just shakes his head and refuses to move away from under the tree he is sitting, a sketchbook in hand.

"Why do you even like painting so much?" She had asked, crossing her arms across her chest, puffing in annoyance at his lack of response before walking away towards the swing herself.

A smile finds its way to your lips at the memory. It was about a couple of years after the both of you had met, and yet, it was as clear as day in your mind. Even after all the memories you and Bucky created together over the years, small - innocent ones like these from all those years ago never left your heart.

You look at it intensely for a long time. A couple of tears brimming at the corner of your eyes.

It's been so long. You couldn't help but think. The both of you had grown up but never grew apart. There was always a connection, an instant pull that always brought the both of you back to each other, almost like how no matter how far any of you went, you never forgot your way back home.

After some time, you finally noticed the little note written in the bottom left corner of the painting, just like in the first one. But this one was different. This sentence was the one that would change your whole life for you. In the best way possible. It read :

The day that 12-year-old fell in love, without even knowing what love meant. All he knew was that he was going to love that girl with everything he had, till his last days and beyond.

Your breath hitched in your throat. He loved you.

Bucky Barnes was in love with you.

That's when it hit you.

Everything you have ever wanted. The only thing your heart has ever yearned for, was right in front of you all along.

The love that you had read about in books, the kind of love that swallowed you whole until there was no part left untouched, the love that you have looked for your entire life, has been right there. Right beside you. In the form of the oceanic blue eyes that had enamored you for the last 20 years.

You were in love with your best friend.

The realization doesn't hit you like a truck, or leave you gasping in surprise, it brings with it a sense of peace, a sense of everything falling into place.

You look around frantically searching for the man that you had loved all along without ever knowing it.

You loved him when he fought those bullies to protect Steve and got hurt in the process.

You had loved him when he had brought you cookies when you had gotten sick during Christmas, not being able to move.

You had loved him when you had supported him in his decision to do what his heart desired, in his journey of becoming an artist.

You had loved him when the both of you had said your goodbyes while leaving for college in distant cities when the tears had fallen from your eyes and on the ground and he had comforted you that your friendship won't fall apart.

You had loved him in the nights that were spent staring at the stars together, in the afternoons that had been spent watching movies, curled up beside each other, just the two of you.

You had loved him then, and you love him now and you were pretty sure you were going to love him till the world was nothing but dust.

A light suddenly gets switched on just beside the old painting, and this time too, it's you.

Painted years after the last one, it's you staring at the night sky, a soft, content look on your face.

This time, your eyes frantically search for the note, and sure enough, it's right there, at the bottom.

'Cause, darling without you,

All the shine of a thousand spotlights

All the stars we steal from the night sky

Will never be enough

Never be enough

You can now feel tears rolling down your cheeks, as your lips turn into the widest grin possible.

You turn around and as you do so, all the lights in the room begin to turn on, each revealing a painting of you. Taken in the simplest moments.

There is one with you in the kitchen, covered in flour, a pout evident on your face as you had tried to bake a cake for the first time.

There was one where you were sitting at the beach, staring into the ocean.

The one that you liked the most was the one in which you were sleeping contently, a blanket loosely draped over you, that you could swear hadn't been there before.

Before you can look at the rest of them, a voice comes from the corner of the hall and you turn just in time to look at Bucky Barnes himself.

Your smile grew wider if it was even possible and you almost ran off to embrace him when he started speaking.

"One day, you asked me why I drew. Why I felt the need to express whatever it was I felt through a canvas. I didn't tell you, then, but now I want to, doll.

It's you. It's always been you. You have been my muse, my pillar of support, my motivation to get up every morning, my need to paint because there was no other way I could express to the girl I was in love with that she was all I ever dreamt about. That she was everything I could ever want.

I love you, doll. I love you with everything I am and everything I'll ever be. There are a hundred ways this could fall apart, and trust me, I have thought about each one of them more than I should have. But if there is one chance that this could work, that I could be yours, not just in movie nights or weekly trips to the grocery market, but in every way possible, I want to take that chance. In slow mornings and in intimate nights, in tough days and in the celebratory evenings, I want you, I need you to be a part of all of them, doll because life just doesn't feel like life without you."

As if your feet had gained a mind of their own you ran towards him, circling your arms around his neck and pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss was gentle, soft, full of need and unspoken feelings, of time lost, it was everything .

He pulled you impossibly closer to him, not wanting to ever let go.

Finally, when the both of you pulled away, still staying close with the widest possible grins on your faces, you whispered, "I love you too, Buck. So damn much." You say it so slowly, it feels like a dream to him.

You would one day shout out to the world how much you loved him, but for now, it was going to be your little moment. When the city of Brooklyn went about its day just like it did every day, two people who were irresistibly, irrevocably in love with each other stood there, holding each other, in the gentlest of embraces, embers of their love while keeping them warm, strong enough to burn the whole world down.

You stay there for what feels like forever before Bucky whispers. "Doll, be my muse?"

You look up at him, drowning in his oceanic blue eyes, only to reach home, before you whisper, "Forever."

#bucky barnes #aritst!bucky #marvel #oneshot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #artist au #childhood best friends to lovers #love #love confessions #fluff #bucky barnes fluff #art #painting #connect4au

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telekitnetic-art · 9 months

Text

Finally got the skin cover off so here’s the tattoo I’ve been teasing for a while!!! I’m really happy with how it turned out and I hope you guys like it!!

(Who wins; a pic of the tattoo the tattoo artist took himself after he finished it with his professional photography and lighting setup, or a photo I took while fighting for my fucking life trying to set up the right angle after I got out of the shower?)

Edit: the condensation over the bathroom mirror finally went away so here’s another picture

Plus the final design and some symbolism/tattoo significance below the cut

The main reason I chose Fireweed is because A) it’s my clan’s crest!! I’m from the Laksamshu clan!

The second is because of Fireweed’s significance in nature; for those of you that don’t know, fireweed is known primarily for how it grows after a wildfire or similar natural disaster. In wildfire burn areas where ground has been ruined, fireweed actually thrives and is considered to be one of the first signs of an ecosystem regrowing after a disaster! They grow fast and spread quickly, which is ideal for areas that have been ravaged by fire. More info here.

Because of this, I wanted to try and pair the fireweed with a stylus pen (a common pen used for digital artwork, I’m sure most people know on Tumblr what it is) as a symbolism of creativity and renewed passion for artwork. My motivation to create has taken some rough hits over the years for multiple reasons, I’m sure most online artists can relate, so I wanted to design this tattoo with the thought in mind that no matter what happens, I still have that creative energy with me no matter how burnt out I feel or how divisive or depressing the art scene can be. A symbol that I have the ability and talent to create, even when I feel like I’ve lost it.

#formline art #telekitnetic art #tattoo #fireweed #healed tattoo #tattoo art #indigenous art #native art #i rambled a bit but I hope you guys like it!!

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cupcakeslushie · 1 month

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sorry for nagging you but i wanted to ask if you have some tips on making comics. I’ve trying making many comics but i always lose motivation and can’t seem to get past even the first panel sometimes.

I did make a pretty long post here, with some advice for starting out! But that’s more technical I guess, and it sounds like maybe you’re looking for some motivational advice? So in addition to that post, I’d say…

Don’t look at these panels where you’re stuck as failures. Look at them, instead, as first drafts!! Keep the early planning stages loose, so it doesn’t feel like an arrow to the heart if you have to make changes. Many artists need to see their thoughts collected somewhere before they can refine things and move on to the next stage. Another big thing is learning to be okay with throwing those drafts away when they become more of a roadblock than a step towards that awesome, final version you’ve got knocking around in your head.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve spent an hour plotting the composition of a panel…or maybe I’ve gotten too focused on the little details of a character’s expression, but the rest of the shot has just….idk died. I’ll copy and paste what I did like, and delete what’s not working or I’ll completely start over, no fuss. Wipe my hands of it and refuse to look at it as a failure. If I drew it once, I can draw it again! Practice isn’t time wasted, it’s time invested into growing! Drawing is drawing!

It’s always good to look back at your work, so you can see your improvement, but only focusing on your unfinished pieces might be doing more harm than good.

And maybe, you don’t have to draw a full 10 page comic from the get go! Try experimenting with shorter form comics! You can tell quite a number of stories in just a few panels! Learning the ins and outs of something new is a lot easier to accomplish when it’s done in smaller increments. That way you can have that feeling of success more often and it’ll motivate you into not giving up!

When I started EW, I was doing parts in like, one or two pages! Because I was still nailing down the comic techniques I wanted to employ. I was gathering brushes and learning how and when to use them! Learning how to create compositions that worked around dialogue bubbles! All the boring parts of comic creating lol. But then, the more comfortable I became with those techniques, the less time they took, and I could really go wild with the creative aspect! Now my updates are much longer!

It’s just a process. But at some point, all the advice and resources in the world can only help so much. You have to be willing to put in the time!

I’d say it’s kinda similar advice they give when you start working out. When you’re first starting, and you try to do more than your body is comfortable with, you’ll be in a lot of pain and won’t want to continue. It’s easy to give up if you’re not seeing results and you feel like you’re wasting your time. But if you start in a reasonable place, and let yourself learn as you go, then you can gain good habits and it’ll get easier!

And only then, when it’s easy, that’s when you challenge yourself! Not when you’re already struggling with just starting! Or it won’t be fun and all of your drive will disappear!

And that’s really what you’re doing this all for, right? For fun!

#ask slushie #rottmnt #slushie rambles #art reference

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orchidniins · 1 month

Note

anything for arthur hill 😭😭 maybe with a musician partner? no pressure take your time!! <3

Heartstrings | Arthur Hill

Summary: Y/N is a musician on her first solo tour. All she wanted was her boyfriend to be there to support her, but conflicting schedules might make for a bittersweet reunion. Pairings: Arthur Hill x Musician! afab!Reader Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut Word Count: 6.8k A/N: Thanks anon for the request! There needs to be more on tumblr for our talented king!!! This fic took a very different turn than what I had intended it to have. I also had planned to have this done like 2 weeks ago, but then I got rejected from the grad program of my dreams and have just been down in the dumps about it for a while so I didn't have the motivation to write for a bit. But I'm back and feeling better now, so I'm going to start writing more regularly.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Surrounded by the buzzing energy backstage, you stand in a dimly lit corridor. Staff scurry around, with headsets and clipboards, finalizing last-minute details, the hum of voices and hurried footsteps echoing off the walls. Amidst all the organized chaos, the only thing you can hear is the pounding of your heart and the muffled thump of the bass from the stage. As always, a flurry of excited nerves bubble in your stomach right before your cue.

You exhale deeply in an attempt to calm your nerves as your makeup artist puts the finishing touches on your makeup, ensuring it's flawless and accentuates your features perfectly. Simultaneously, your stylist adjusts your top from behind, the outfit meticulously chosen to embody the concept of your album.

Tonight marked the final show of your first solo tour, a moment that once felt like an unattainable dream. And you had relished every moment of the past two months on the road. From the electric energy of the stage to the bone-deep exhaustion of late nights and early mornings, and you loved every single second of it. Yet, amidst the overwhelming excitement, a different emotion began to surface—a subtle pang of disappointment that tugged at your heart.

You made your way toward the stage entrance, still out of view of the audience. Their murmured conversations intertwined with the ambient music playing in the venue. With just ten minutes until your set time, you peered into the crowd, scanning the sea of faces and you searched for one person in particular: your boyfriend, Arthur.

Arthur had been one of your biggest supporters since long before you two became a couple. Being a musician himself, he understood and empathized with all that you had gone through to get where you are today: the late nights, the hours of hard work, the busy schedules, and the stress and fears that came with all of it. When you had broke the news of your first solo tour, he was easily the happiest person in the room.

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

The pair of you were cozied up on the couch in your apartment, your legs draped over his lap as you snuggled close, halfway through a movie that you couldn’t even remember anymore when you received a call from your manager.

As you made a move to get up and answer your phone, Arthur’s arm wrapped around you, a playful pout formed on his lips. "No, don't go," he murmured softly, his hand tightened on your thigh to keep you in place.

“I’ll be right back…it’s just, it could be important,” you said softly, offering him a gentle smile before planting a tender kiss on his nose. "Just give me a minute," you reassured him, feeling his grip on you loosen as he gave you a small nod. With a resigned sigh, you peeled yourself out of his comforting embrace, slipping away to take the call.

You paced around the living room, absorbed in conversation with your manager, while Arthur rested his chin on the back of the sofa. His gaze followed you intently, furrowing his eyebrows in an attempt to decipher the conversation from your expressions and strings of “okays” and “uh-huhs”. After a few minutes, you ended your call, spinning on your heels to face him, disbelief etched on your face.

You pause for a moment, dumbfounded, the words caught in your throat. Arthur looked at you expectantly and finally he broke the silence, "So? Everything ok?"

"I'm going on tour!", you screamed out, your voice filled with excitement as you jumped up and down in sheer joy.

He sprung off the couch, reaching you in an instant with his arms wide open.You jumped into his arms, overwhelmed with pure joy. He wrapped you in a tight embrace, lifting you slightly off the floor in one swift move. His wide smile mirrored yours, reflecting the genuine happiness he felt for you and you felt so lucky to have him by your side, celebrating this moment with you.

Gently, he set you back down on the ground, and as you faced each other, his hands found their place on your waist while yours naturally rested on his forearms. "I knew you were gonna make it big," he whispered, his eyes sparkling with admiration.

You playfully teased him back, a grin tugging at your lips. "Look who's talking," you quipped, your tone light and teasing.

He lightly chuckled, his lips met yours in a soft and sweet kiss. As he pulled away, a hand caressed your cheek, his gaze filled with pride. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered, his voice laced with sincerity.

Arthur knew the dedication you poured into your music, especially your most recent album. His acknowledgment of your talent and his unwavering faith in you meant more than words could express. "It was only a matter of time until the whole world saw what I saw," he said, his voice filled with conviction. "How talented you are." Tears welled up in your eyes as you felt overwhelmed by his words.

"Baby, why the tears?" Arthur gently wiped them away, his expression softening as he saw the conflicting emotions in your face.

"I-I don't know what to feel," you whispered, your voice came out shaky, as he wrapped you in another comforting hug. You buried your head into the crook of his neck, and the two of you stood in silence for a moment. “I’m kinda scared babe,” you finally spoke up, your voice barely above a whisper, your vulnerability coming through in the trembling of your words.

You pulled away slightly, your eyes falling to your feet. Arthur, sensing your apprehension, bent down slightly to have a look at your face. "Hey, hey, listen to me," he said gently, his hands lifting your chin to meet his eyes.

He smiled at you warmly, "I, of all people, know how hard you've worked for this."

"And I know you are going to do great,” he continued, his smile growing wider. "And best believe I'm going to be at every single show to support you. You're going to kill it out there, babe."

—------------

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the backstage manager's announcement: "Five minutes to go." her voice snaps you back to reality.

The reality was that two months had passed, and Arthur hadn’t been able to make it to a single one of your headline shows. Usually, before either of your shows, you’d atleast video call each other, finding solace in seeing his face and hearing his voice over the phone. But this time, you chose to forgo it, not wanting to set yourself up for disappointment again.

You let go of any hope that he might appear for this one and focus on trying to hyping yourself up instead.

But you didn't blame Arthur for not being there, he was currently on tour as well. While he had offered to rearrange a few dates to work around yours, you declined the idea instantly, not wanting to inconvenience him or his fans. So in the end, you two recognized that the two of you just had to make it work, and moving around either of your tour dates was impractical.

Most of your show dates overlapped or were in different cities altogether, making it logistically challenging for Arthur to be there at your shows. Despite this, you managed to catch a few of his shows over the past few months, even flying out to Glasgow the week before, only to have him whisked away to another city shortly after.

He was always extremely apologetic about it, but you couldn't help but feel slightly upset each time. You felt selfish for feeling the way you did; after all, this situation was out of his hands. And dwelling on it only added unnecessary stress. It’s not like it made you love him any less. You were incredibly proud of the success Arthur had garnered and knew how hard he had worked for it. But at the end of the day, you were finding it difficult to shake off the disappointment of him not being able to witness perform live.

So you made a conscious effort to push aside those feelings of disappointment and focus on your performance. You shook out your shoulders and your hands, trying to calm your nerves, trying to get yourself in the right headspace to deliver your finale show. Then, once both your tours ended, you looked forward to having your boyfriend's undivided attention once again.

As you finally step onto stage, highlighted under the spotlight, you are welcomed by the roar of the crowd. You let the booming sounds drown out whatever you were feeling previously and you felt the nerves melt away as you started to sing your music. You pour all you have into your set, feeding off of the electric energy of the crowd.

As your final song begins to fade into the air, you take a moment to catch your breath, taking a little bow. "Thank you London!" you scream, your voice ringing with sincerity. "You have been amazing tonight. I love you all so much!" Tears well up in your eyes as you bid your final goodbyes to the cheering crowd. With a final wave, you make your exit from the stage, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

As you pull out your ear monitor and hand it, along with your mic, to one of the staff members, they swiftly assist you in removing your mic pack. You take a moment to express your gratitude to them and exchange thanks with everyone who passes by at that moment. Left alone for just about a minute, you take a deep breath, allowing yourself to calm down and soak in the moment. A sense of accomplishment washed over you, disbelief as you realized that you had just completed your first headline tour.

Amidst the bustling backstage atmosphere of people packing up, your manager approaches you, enveloping you in a warm hug. "You were absolutely incredible out there," she says, her voice filled with pride.

"Thank you so much," you reply gratefully. "I couldn't have done any of this without you."

As she pulls away, she mentions with a warm smile, "Nonsense, you worked so incredibly hard for this."

You flash her a smile, as she continues, "I've got to head out soon, tuck my kid into bed. You’ll be okay if I leave first?”

You nod understandingly, "Of course. Don't worry, I'll be fine. I’ve got your assistant to keep me company."

She smiles appreciatively, giving you a final hug before bidding you farewell, "Take care, and go celebrate with the band tonight! Use the company card!"

As she heads off, you chuckle at her parting words. Her assistant approaches, congratulating you, "Great show, Y/N. You absolutely killed it out there."

You exchange a hug with him, expressing your gratitude. He then hands you a towel and a bottle of water.

You take the bottle from him with a small smile, engaging in light conversation as you sip on it. As you hand back the half-empty bottle, your gaze catches a familiar head of messy hair entering the backstage area through the stage exit.

Your heart skips a beat as you realize it's Arthur, standing there with a proud smile on his face. It feels almost surreal seeing him at one of your shows in the flesh. You couldn't believe it. Having given up hopes of seeing him at your show, the moment felt too good to be true, as if you're caught in a dream. Especially considering he had his own show tonight as well, the fact that he'd made it felt nothing short of a miracle.

You are pulled out of your thoughts when you hear someone clearing their throat. You look back to your manager's assistant, who shifts awkwardly before speaking up. "Well, I'm gonna go be someplace else," he says, his tone a tad awkward.

"Yeah, sure," you respond quickly, offering a polite smile. "Just call me if you need anything," he adds hurriedly. "I have some things to wrap up." You nod in acknowledgment and offer a quick thanks as he swiftly exits the backstage area.

Now that the two of you were alone, Arthur walks up to you. Despite feeling happy to see him, you couldn't shake off the lingering sense of disappointment. All you wanted was for him to be there, to watch you perform, and the frustration of his absence during your shows still weighed heavily on you. And your facial expression reflected how you were feeling. When he finally reaches you, you make no effort to move.

Arthur had always been able to read you like an open book, and he had noticed the slightly annoyed, tight-lipped expression on your face. Rather than trying to coax you into a better mood with words, he instead pulls you into an embrace. Despite your attempt to appear upset, your body betrays you as your arms instinctively wrap around him, drawing him closer. As he holds you, you can't help but melt into his touch, your tummy doing a little flip as you take in his familiar scent. His presence has a calming effect, momentarily pushing aside the frustration you were feeling just moments ago.

You feel him smile against your hair as he feels you wrap your arms around him tighter. "Hey, you," he murmurs softly against your hair, exuding sweetness. Despite feeling comforted by his presence, you still feel slightly conflicted."Hi," you mutter, your voice coming out quieter than usual.

He then pulls away, his hands gently cupping your face as he looks into your eyes before he leans in, engulfing your lips in a soft kiss. The warmth of his lips against yours elicits a response, kissing him back, but Arthur can sense that something is amiss. "I thought you'd be happier to see me," he says, flashing you his cute heart-melting smile. You try to put on a brave face, reminding yourself to be happy now that he was finally here. "No, I'm excited to see you," you insist, placing both your hands on his chest, though your voice lacks its usual enthusiasm.

You try to force a smile, but then a realization flashes across your features. With a cocked eyebrow, you ask, "Didn't you have a show today? When did you get here?" You attempt to steer the conversation away from you. With a gentle smile, he says "I left as soon as my show ended. I caught the end of your show. You were amazing." He adds, "You did so well out there." You muster a faint, "Oh, thank you, babe," but your smile falls short of its usual brightness. Arthur lets out a sigh as he grows more concerned by the shift in your demeanor.

Arthur's expression turns serious. "Hey, what happened, baby? Tell me what's wrong," he urges gently. You hesitate for a moment before responding, "Nothing, I'm fine." He gives you a skeptical look, and you quickly add, "Seriously, I'm fine," trying to brush it off. Deep down, you feel the urge to cry, and the last thing you wanted right now was for Arthur to see you in tears.

Just then, you hear a mix of voices coming from the stage, and Arthur takes a step back from you, turning to face the direction of the noise. You see the band finally making it backstage after packing up their instruments. One of the band members waves to you as they walk by and calls out, "Hey Y/N, you coming with us for a drink?" Sniffling, you quickly wipe your eyes, determined to rid them of any tears that may threaten to spill. Gathering yourself, you reply, "Yeah, just give me a few minutes. I need to change. I'll be right there with you lot." They nod quickly before heading off to their green rooms.

You turn back to Arthur, who was still eyeing you with a concerned expression and furrowed eyebrows. "Talk to me, Y/N," he says, his hands grabbing yours, his thumbs running comfortingly over your hands. Part of you wanted to break down and tell Arthur everything, how you've hated not having him here, how upset you've been. But you know that if he sees you like this, he would feel absolutely horrible and blame everything on himself.

Swallowing hard, you remove your hands from his and respond softly, "Nothing, I'm just tired." Arthur's concern deepens, and he suggests, "Okay, then let's get you back home. I don't have to leave until the morning anyways."

You quickly interject, "No, it's fine. I think I should go out with the band for a bit. They've worked so hard, I should celebrate with them. I won't be out long." By the look of his face you knew that he wasn't buying it, so you continued, "I'll just go change real quick, and then we'll go out. I think we both deserve a bit of a night out, yeah?" He nods with a smile, and you tell him to wait as you head off toward your dressing room, hoping to compose yourself in private.

You quickly enter your dressing room and shut the door behind you, just wanting a moment to yourself. Taking a deep breath, you stand in front of the mirror, trying to compose yourself. You look at yourself, trying to push away the feelings of frustration and letdown that were bubbling up to the surface again. You remind yourself to be okay, not wanting to start a petty fight with Arthur over something so trivial. With your tour now over you were now happy to have the time to support him.

But, before you could stop them, tears start rolling down your face, tracing hot paths down your cheeks, smearing some of your mascara in the process. "Pull yourself together," you whisper to your reflection, your voice trembling slightly. You grab a makeup wipe from the packet on the dressing table and attempt to wipe away the tears and clean up some of the smudged makeup under your eyes, but the tears don’t stop coming. You try to calm yourself down again, but in that moment, you break down. Finally crying freely as you let your head hang and your hands coming up to cover your face, releasing the pent-up frustration that had been building over the past 2 months.

You didn’t realize that your sobs were now audible through the door until you heard a soft knock. Arthur's voice, laced with concern, seeps through the crack. "Baby, are you okay?" he asks gently. "Please open the door. Tell me what happened."

You hesitate, feeling torn between wanting to let him in and not wanting him to see you like this, afraid that your reasons might upset him as well. As you glance at the door, you hurriedly wipe your tears, attempting to regain your composure. "Everything's fine," you manage to choke out, your voice trembling slightly, "Just give me a few minutes."

Arthur's voice gets slightly louder, "Y/N, don't lie to me, please," he pleads. "I need to see that you're okay. Please just open the door, baby."

You feel a pang of guilt at his words, knowing that he genuinely cared about your well-being. Despite your reluctance, you can't bear to keep him waiting outside. Taking a deep breath, you walk over to the door and unlock it, allowing Arthur to step inside.

He instantly pulls you into another hug, drawing you close to his chest. His arms envelop you, trying to comfort you. One of his hands moves to the back of your head, gently stroking your hair soothingly as you lightly sob into his shirt. You stay there for a moment.

Sensing your sobs beginning to subside, he gently attempts to pull away, intending to get a better look at your face. "Come on, baby, let me see you," he whispers softly. You shake your head softly, not wanting him to see your tear-streaked face, and snuggle even closer to him. He lets you stay nestled against him, resting his chin on your head and pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asks very softly, trying to be patient with you. He knew that when you got like this, trying to force you to talk was never the answer. He understood that if you felt pressured, you would only shut down further.

You slowly shake your head, not knowing how to even start that conversation. He mutters, "Are you sure?" and you reply with a hesitant nod, "Yes, I'm fine." Though he doesn't believe you, he lets you stay in his arms for a little while longer, sensing your reluctance to open up. After a while, he continues, "Come on, baby, let it out. You know you’ll feel better if you just talk about it." He strokes your hair soothingly, encouraging you to share your feelings.

He says softly, "We can stay like this for as long as you want, but eventually, you're gonna have to come up for air." You chuckle slightly, feeling a bit lighter after releasing all the built-up emotions. With a deep breath, you pull away from his embrace, looking up at him with puffy eyes, smeared eye makeup and tear stained cheeks. Though you'd stopped crying, looking at the tender loving look in his eyes makes tears well up in your eyes again.

He lightly cups your face, wiping away at your tears. You nod, signaling that you are about to speak. Despite the concern in his eyes, he gives you a reassuring smile, silently encouraging you to go on.

"Okay, yeah…," you begin, your voice trembling slightly. You pause, trying to gather your thoughts before continuing, "Arthur, it's just that... Okay, now, whatever I'm about to say, you shouldn't get upset by it, alright? I’m probably just making a big deal out of nothing," His worry deepens, his brows furrowing. "Baby, just tell me. You're scaring me now," he urges softly.

Softly chuckling, you reassure him, "It's nothing like that," as you gently guide his hands away from your face, holding onto his forearms. You finally say, "Arthur, it's just... it hasn't been the easiest not having you here," your voice shaky with emotion. "I know we’ve talked about it before, and I know I’ve repeatedly said that I’m okay with you not being here all the time and that I understand most of the time you just couldn't physically be here." Tears begin to well up in your eyes again as you continue, "But, when I imagined this whole tour thing in my head, I just imagined you at all my shows, and being able to celebrate with you backstage afterwards." You wipe away at your face, trying to compose yourself, and add, "You know what? It's stupid, just forget about it," before glancing down, feeling a lump form in your throat.

Arthur's expression softens as he listens intently to your words. "I'm sorry, Y/N" he begins, but you quickly interrupt, insisting, "You have nothing to be sorry for." Your head is still down, but he gently lifts your chin, meeting your gaze. "No, I should," he says softly, his eyes reflecting remorse. "I should have been more understanding. I absolutely loved having you supporting me at my shows, and I was just so happy whenever you were there. I am a dense idiot for not realizing that you would, of course, want the same thing. I should have tried harder to be here." He pauses, his voice filled with sincerity, "And I'm sorry for that."

"Arthur," you start saying, but he interrupts you, his voice tinged with remorse, "Even if I wasn't able to actually be here for you, I should have checked in more often with you... I feel like such a shitty boyfriend."

You quickly interject, "Hey, no! Honestly, I've been fine mostly. It's just that seeing you here today just brought everything out, that's all. I'll be okay in a bit," you assure him with a small smile.

"You don’t have to hide your feelings from me, or hide your tears. I love you and your emotional ass, so tell me everything, okay? Especially when I’ve done something to upset you, no matter how small you think it is. I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t tell me something. And I promise you, I will never get mad at you," he reassures you, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm here for you, always."

You look at him, at a loss for words, and he simply pulls you into a tight embrace. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as his encircle your waist. "I love you so much, baby," he whispers softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "And I’m so proud of everything you've achieved. You're not selfish at all for wanting me here. I’m the selfish one for not being here," he admits, his voice filled with remorse. "I promise I’ll be better in the future," he reassures you, holding you close.

You exhale deeply, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. Meeting his gaze again, your foreheads gently touching, "Just having you here now means everything to me." Your voice is filled with sincerity and gratitude. "I love you too, Arthur," you whisper. As you finally manage to muster a genuine smile, he returns it warmly. "There's that smile I love so much," he remarks, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your mouth. You can't help but let out a small giggle in response.

Feeling a lot better now, you glance at his white T-shirt and let out a little laugh. "Sorry about your shirt," you say, noticing the makeup smudges and wet tear spots on it. He chuckles in response, "No, it's fine, it adds character." Then he teases, “You know, if I sell this shirt on eBay, I can make a ton of money from it. It'll be an authentic Y/N creation." You giggle, playfully rolling your eyes and lightly swatting at his chest.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious about your appearance, you mutter, "God, I must look like such a mess right now," as you wipe at your cheeks. With a sigh, you pull away from him and walk slowly back to the dressing table. Grabbing another wipe, you clean up your messy face, taking off the remaining makeup as well.

Arthur follows you, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as he watches you in the mirror. "Never," he murmurs softly, "you are the most beautiful woman I know, even when you cry." His words make you chuckle a little, scoffing lightly, and you see him smile with warm eyes.

He moves your hair aside, pressing a tender kiss to the exposed skin on your shoulder. "You always look perfect to me," he adds, "And besides, you looked like an absolute angel on stage today," he compliments, his eyes filled with admiration as he gazes at you in the mirror. You can't help but smile at his words, feeling a warmth spread through you. One of your hands comes up to rest on his, your head leaning against his. In that moment, all felt right again in the world, just the two of you together.

Once you're done wiping your makeup off, you turn in his arms to face him, leaning against the edge of the table. He looks at you with a tender smile, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. You take a moment to admire his handsome features, your hand gently caressing his face, tracing the lines of his smile with your thumb. As you smile back at him, you notice the slight dark circles forming under his eyes.

"Did you manage any sleep at all today?" you ask, your voice laced with concern, your fingers lightly tracing his cheek. A slight frown forms on your lips as you await his response. He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "No, I'm just running on adrenaline," he admits with a tired smile.

You nod sympathetically, understanding the toll a busy schedule can take. "How did your show go by the way?" you ask, your voice filled with genuine interest as you gaze at him intently. He starts detailing the performance, his eyes aglow with excitement.

You listen attentively, captivated by his every word. As he talks, you can't help but feel a sense of pride and joy for him, your expression mirroring his enthusiasm. "You really are amazing, Arthur," you compliment him with a warm smile. He responds with a playful scoff, "Oh please, stop it," earning a laugh from the both of you.

"Are you feeling better now?" he asks, gently tucking your hair behind your ears. You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. “I’m sorry that I absolutely freaked out on you” you say, feeling slightly guilty but he quickly dismisses it, "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about."

"I mean, I was expecting you to run up and jump into my arms, but maybe next time." he says playfully. "Well, go stand over there. Give me some space for a run-up,” you suggest, playing along. Chuckling, he shakes his head, his hands gently resting on your waist. "No," he replies with a grin. You lean in and plant a soft peck on his cheek, returning his smile.

"But seriously, if you ever feel like this again, about anything, just talk to me, okay?" You nod in agreement, feeling incredibly grateful to have such a supportive boyfriend. "I promise," you assure him, squeezing his hand gently.

Arthur wraps his arms tighter around your waist, pulling you closer as he gently strokes the exposed skin on your back, a playful smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. Your hand instinctively moves up to his chest, a tingle spreading down your spine at the warmth of his touch. "You know," he murmurs softly, "I missed you." You respond with a giggle, teasingly saying, "Aw, Arthur, I missed you too." He leans in to kiss you, but you tilt your face away at the last minute, laughing as he ends up planting a kiss on your cheek instead.

"Well, If you missed me so much, then you should have come to more than just this show…. I mean I’ve been to pretty much every other one of yours," you jokingly tell him, a playful twinkle in your eye as you reach up to place a kiss on his jaw. He feigns hurt, "Oh, way to kick a guy when he's down babe."

“Hey, it's not like you’re completely forgiven,” you tease, a mischievous glint in your eyes. He pouts slightly, "You're right, I’ll make it up to you somehow." he says with a little wink, leaning in closer. His warm breath tickles your skin, sending shivers down your spine as his lips inch closer to yours. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as he places his hands on the table, trapping you between his body and the table. "In fact," he adds, "I can start right away if you want."

Without another word, his hand moves to the back of your neck, closing the distance between you two. His lips meet yours in a tender kiss, and as the intensity of the moment grows, you melt into his embrace, lost in the sensation of his lips against yours. He deepens the kiss, his grip tightening at your waist, digging into the exposed flesh, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

Your hand begins to move from his chest and slowly makes its way towards his pants, your fingertips lightly grazing the fabric over his crotch, but Arthur gently redirects your hand, placing it next to you on the table.

You pull away from your kiss, gasping for breath, confusion evident in your eyes as you gaze into his deep brown ones. Arthur lightly shakes his head, a small laugh escaping his lips. "It's all about you today, baby" he whispers softly against your lips. You visibly swallow, and it wasn’t long before his lips trail away from yours, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses along your jaw and down to your neck. A breathy moan escapes your lips as you feel the press of his lips against your skin, your skin feeling hot under their touch.

You feel him smirking against your neck before he cups you below your ass, effortlessly lifting you up off your feet. You couldn't help but giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carries you over to the couch, gently placing you down.

You shuffle back slightly until your back touches the armrest, making room for him to join you. He places his between your legs as he leans in, capturing your lips in another deep kiss. "Think I could help you out of these clothes, baby?" he murmurs against your lips, his hand finding its place on your hip, “I'm sure they're very uncomfortable.”

You laugh in response, placing a hand on his chest and gently pushing him back, eyeing him playfully. "You first," you tease, a smirk dancing on your lips as you nod towards him, “Go on.”

Arthur stands up, wasting no time in taking off his clothes until he's left only in his boxers as you eye him up and down taking in the sight of the gorgeous man in front of you. He’s quick to come and help you with yours, reaching for the waistband of your pants, along with your panties and sliding them off, his hands tracing over your thighs.

As he moves to remove your top, you wince, causing him to freeze in concern. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" he asks, his brow furrowing with worry as he searches your face for any signs of discomfort. You can't help but laugh at his reaction. "No, no," you reassure him, shaking your head. "I just forgot I had fashion tape on to keep my top in place."

He asks again, his voice filled with concern, "Are you sure you're fine?" You nod, "Yes, Arthur, I'm fine." With a seductive smile, you pull him closer by his shoulder, your eyes dark with lust. "Now come here," you whisper, "I forgot how much I enjoyed seeing you without your shirt on."

He chuckles, as you run your hand over his chest, tracing your fingers along his tattoos. He dips his body down to kiss the skin above your breasts, tenderly placing kisses on the red marks left behind by the tape. Moving lower, he takes one of your tits into his mouth, his lips wrapping around your hard nipple while his hand caresses your other breast. A moan escapes your lips at the sensation of his tongue, and your hands instinctively move to his hair, gently tugging as he groans in response.

He trails kisses down your body, each touch sending a sensation of electricity through you. You revel in the softness of his lips as he moves lower, his kisses tracing a tantalizing path over your skin. He works his way down to reach your inner thighs, gripping one of your thighs firmly, he carefully maneuvers it over his shoulder. His kisses grow more urgent as he inches closer to your needy core. Your skin tingles under his lips, the wetness between your thighs increasing with each teasing kiss.

His fingers dip into your folds, collecting your wetness, "You're already so wet for me, baby," he murmurs in a low voice, his voice thick with desire. You stifle a moan at his words, your breath catching at the look of lust in his eyes. "Fuck, Arthur," you breathe out, your voice laced with need, as he attaches his lips to your clit. His tongue explores your wet folds with a slow, gentle pace, driving you wild.

He starts sucking a little harder, eliciting a loud moan from you, and you feel him groan against your clit, the vibrations of his voice sending waves of pleasure through you. Your moans and groans only make Arthur increase his pace, and you shut your eyes, throwing your head back. The sensation of his finger dipping into you makes you gasp. You manage to open your eyes, finding him looking back at you with hooded eyes, the intensity in his gaze sending your heart into a frenzy.

You knew that Arthur was good with his mouth, but he never failed to surprise you each time, and you could feel yourself edging closer to your high. He continues to suck and stroke your clit until you finally feel your orgasm bubble up to the surface. You scream out his name as you reach your peak, your body trembling with pleasure, cumming into his mouth.

He cleans you up with his mouth as best he can before he pulls back, placing your leg back on the sofa. He supports his weight by placing his hands on either side of you, attaching his lips to your neck.

"I'm not done with you yet," he whispers against your neck, his eyes dark with desire as he gazes up at you. "You think you still have it in you for one more?" Your brain is still clouded from your recent high and you struggle to form coherent words, just nodding in response.

Arthur lets out a low, throaty laugh before crashing his lips against yours as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He starts to take off his boxers, kicking them to the side and settles in between your legs, the heat of his body pressing against yours.

After a bit, he reluctantly pulls away from you, your lips chasing his as he makes his way to where he had flung his jeans. Rummaging through them, he finds his wallet, pulling out a foil packet. He quickly rips it open and slides it onto his already hard length before swiftly returning to you.

He slowly grabs your thighs, spreading them wider as he positions himself between them. He gives you a kiss on your jaw before he lines himself up, before he finally thrusts into you. “You ok baby?” he asks. You groan in response, managing to mumble out a breathy, "Yes, Arthur... fuck," reveling in the sensation of him filling you up. The pleasure evident on Arthur's face drives you wild, causing you to melt into the couch beneath you.

Arthur grabs your waist as he quickens his pace and his mouth finds its way to your chest again.

The sensation of his hands on your skin, his mouth on your chest, and feeling him deep inside you becomes almost overwhelming and you grip onto his biceps, your nails digging into his skin.

“God, Y/N, I love you so much,” he murmurs, his words sending your heart soaring, but the intensity of the moment consumes you. The pleasure courses through your body and you feel your orgasm approaching much quicker than before. You moan and arch into him, desperate for release.

Almost as if Arthur read your mind, he breathes out, "I’m so close, baby." You respond, your voice barely above a whisper, "Me too." He furrows his eyebrows, trying to hold on longer, wanting to make the moment last, but it becomes increasingly difficult when you're a gorgeous, moaning mess under him.

He feels your walls clench around his shaft as your orgasm washes over you, and you moan his name aloud. Arthur lets a groan before he spills inside of you with one last thrust. Collapsing on top of you, both of you slightly sweaty, he rests his forehead gently on yours as you both pant against each other.

Once you both get your breathing leveled out, you look at him, feeling his hand come up to softly caress your cheek. "Am I forgiven now?" he laughs as he asks you. You smile back at him, "I think I might consider it now," you reply, laughing softly.

"I love you, Arthur," you say softly, gazing into his eyes. A smile at you, warmth spreading over his handsome features before leaning in to place a tender kiss on your forehead.

As you're about to suggest that the two of you should go get cleaned up, you hear a knock on your door, your head whipping in the direction of the sound. "Hey, are you ready to go? We'll leave in a bit," you hear the voice of your bandmate peer through the closed door.

"Yeah, just us five more minutes, we'll meet you out front," you scream back, and you hear him reply with an "Okay" before his footsteps retreat.

Turning back to your boyfriend, you grin mischievously. "I should get mad at you more often," you tease.

But he looks at you deadpan and says, "No, please don’t,” and you both share a laugh. “I hate it when you're upset with me," he adds with a playful smirk before planting a quick peck on your lips and getting up.

He helps you to your feet and says, “Now let’s go celebrate you, baby,” before the two of you head off to get cleaned up and step out together.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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lemoncrushh · 1 month

Text

Tattooed Heart - Part V

SUMMARY: You are a cocktail waitress at a swanky lounge. Harry comes in one night, and you instantly dislike him. But another encounter eventually changes your opinion.

PAIRING: Waitress Y/N x Artist/Tattoo Artist Harry

TROPES: Enemies to Lovers

MUST BE 18+ TO READ

WORD COUNT: 5k+

STORY PAGE

Unlocking the door, you treaded lightly across the living room to the kitchen, knowing Shae was either still sleeping or getting ready for work. While you definitely wouldn’t consider it the walk of shame - you had nothing to be ashamed of - you knew the inevitable conversation with your roommate was fast approaching, and you weren’t looking forward to it.

Opening the cabinet quietly, you pulled out the coffee canister and prepared the pot, hoping to at least perk your friend’s mood. When you heard her door open, you braced yourself for a scowl or evil eye, but instead, she padded down the hall to the bathroom, not even looking in your direction. With a sigh, you poured yourself a cup of coffee and sat at the counter, inhaling the aroma as your mind began to wander.

Harry had been so sweet that morning, pouting slightly when you’d told him you had to get home and get ready for work. With heavy eyelids, he’d kissed you softly, offering to make you breakfast.

“You’ve cooked for me plenty,” you’d declined with a smile. “Besides, I should probably explain everything to Shae like I’d promised before my shift starts.”

When he’d driven you home, he’d pulled you into a deep kiss, causing your head to spin and your insides to melt. Then he’d wished you a pleasant day with a smile, promising to call later.

“Hey,” you heard before you saw her.

Clearing your throat and blinking your eyes, you sat up and acknowledged your roommate. “Good morning.”

Shae remained with her back to you as she grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured herself a cup of coffee. Sipping your own, you wondered if she was giving you the cold shoulder, until she finally sighed and muttered, “How was your date?”

“Wonderful…actually,” you said, hoping she’d turn to face you.

“Really? Well…I guess I kinda figured that since you stayed out all night. Did you just get home?”

“Yeah,” you swallowed.

Finally turning around, Shae looked at you with wide eyes.

“He must be amazing. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to, Shae. And I should have. It’s just…well honestly, I wasn’t sure if he was for real at first. Even after he apologized, I couldn’t bring myself to accept it right away.”

“Wait…back up,” your roommate held up her hand. Then taking the stool next to yours, she continued. “Start at the beginning. Like, right after you ran into him at the coffee shop.”

“Well, like I told you, he helped me get the job. He vouched for me, told my boss I was the best waitress he’d ever had.”

“Right. And I told you you should have kissed him,” Shae smirked. “But you thought he had some kind of motive. Or was just feeling guilty.”

“Yeah, I was kind of right about that last part,” you said, taking a sip of coffee.

“So, what? He kept apologizing or something? Came in and stalked you?”

“No. He’s actually a regular at the cafe. Everyone else who works there knows him. He comes in to work on his tablet or laptop. He’s an artist. He doesn’t just do tattoos.”

Shae’s mouth dropped open as she stared at you.

“He stays to himself mostly,” you continued, “but I quickly realized he’s a nice guy. So I went to his shop to talk to him and…he asked me out.”

“Oh my God.”

“I didn’t tell you that night of our first date because…well, like I said…I wasn’t sure yet. But we had a nice meal and a long discussion. Turns out he was telling the truth. He was really drunk that night and he feels really bad about the way he treated me.”

When you took another drink from your mug, Shae continued to glare at you, an invisible question mark above her head. “And?”

“And what?”

“That’s it? No more details? You’re leaving it there?”

With a chuckle, you ran your fingers through your hair. “There’s not much more to tell except…he’s a fantastic man.”

“Obviously. That’s why you got home at seven in the morning.”

“Shae!” you laughed harder.

“How many times have you been out with him?”

“Yesterday was our second date.”

“Wow,” Shae sighed. “That was a long second date.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you grinned.

“Seriously? You’re not even gonna throw me a bone? I’ve been your roommate for three years!”

“I will tell you one thing,” you offered.

“What?”

“He’s designed a tattoo. For me.”

“Get out! When are you getting it done?”

Looking down at your cup, you traced the rim with your fingertip. “I don’t know. He wanted to do it last night, but I told him we could save it for another time. I’m just not sure how I feel about it yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just…very personal. It feels…extremely intimate.”

Shae snorted, making you glare at her. “You did have sex with him, right?”

“I don’t mean that,” you shook your head. “It’s much more intimate than sex.”

“Oh.”

You weren’t certain if your roommate understood what you meant, but you didn’t expect her to. Rising from your stools, you gave each other hugs. You apologized again for not informing her of Harry sooner, and she wished you the best with him.

“I’m happy it all worked out,” she declared. “Especially glad he’s not a jerk. Because he’s really attractive. But I was willing to hate him for you.”

“I know,” you nodded, remembering your conversation with Harry the day before. “And I love you for that.”

“Can I get a cappuccino with light foam and a blueberry scone?”

You rang up the customer with a smile, only to take another’s order right afterwards. Taking a deep breath, you exhaled slowly. The cafe was extra busy, especially for a Wednesday. Luckily, you only had twenty minutes left before your break. You felt Jill and Melaina busying themselves behind you, trying to get the drink orders out as fast as they could. When the last man in line placed his order, you quickly grabbed a rag and wiped down the counter. You’d just stuffed it away when the door opened again.

“Good afternoon,” you announced before the woman had even approached you. “What can I get y-”

Stopping your sentence before the last word, you suddenly recognized the familiar face. And blonde hair.

“Oh, hello. It’s you,” she said, almost in a snarl.

“Yes?” you questioned, your brow raised.

Scanning the seating area, Nicolette spoke again without looking at you. “I was hoping I might find Harry here. I understand he frequents this cafe.”

“He’s not here,” you remarked flatly. ‘Frequents this cafe’? Was she trying to sound posh? She wasn’t even British.

“Oh, pity.” Yep, she definitely was. You rolled your eyes before she turned back to face you. “I’ve rung and texted him several times, but he hasn’t replied. If you speak to him, will you let him know Nicolette is looking for him?”

“What for?” you asked, shocking even yourself at your boldness.

Nicolette frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t believe that’s any of your business.”

“Okay then. No.”

“Pardon me?” the blonde looked taken aback.

“I will not tell him. He doesn’t need to have any more contact with you. Your transaction is through.”

“My transaction?” Nicolette repeated, her face contorting into something that resembled a confused rat.

“You’re not a nice person, and you use people. You used Harry to get what you wanted, and now it’s over.”

The blonde chuckled slowly, then threw her head back and began to cackle. This time she resembled Cruella DeVille. “Oh, sweetie. You’ve got it all backwards. Harry Styles used me. Now, I would watch yourself if I were you.”

Plucking a mint from the bowl on the counter, Nicolette strutted off, the door swinging closed behind her as she walked out into the sunshine.

“Who the hell was that?” gasped Jill whom you’d forgotten stood behind you. You were grateful to see that Melaina was wiping down tables. She may have not heard or seen the interaction.

“Harry’s ex,” you muttered.

“Holy crap. How do you know that? You’ve seen her?”

You cringed, suddenly realizing you may have to reveal your secret to Jill. “Um, there’s pictures of her with him on his website.”

“But you told her she’s not a nice person. You must have met her before.”

With a sigh, you decided to come clean. “I saw her yesterday. At the art gallery.”

“The art gallery?” Jill’s eyes widened. “Did you go to see Harry’s art?”

Biting your lip, you nodded. “With Harry.”

“Oh my God!” Jill covered her mouth with her hand, then whispered, “Are you dating him?”

“Yeah. But please, let’s keep it between us for now.”

“Why? Everyone here loves him! They’d be happy for you. I’m happy for you!”

“I appreciate that,” you grinned. “It’s just…it’s still new, you know?”

“Oh! Say no more. I totally get it. But I’m so happy for you!”

You chuckled as Jill put her hands on her hips. “Huh, I wonder why I’ve never seen her. She’s never come in here before.”

“I wonder why she was looking for Harry,” you added. “Maybe something to do with his art.”

“What was that she said to you at the end? Just before she left?”

“Oh, um…I don’t know.”

“Something about watching yourself? What did she mean by that?”

You simply shrugged as Melaina returned to the counter and the door opened once more. “Beats me.”

Harry called you that evening after he got home from work. You chatted lightly for a bit about Shae and both of your jobs until you decided to tell him about your little encounter with his ex-whatever-she-was.

“She came to the cafe just to find me?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah. How did she know you hang out there?”

“Ugh,” Harry groaned with a pause. “I may have mentioned it.”

“Oh.”

“In fact, I think I asked her to join me for coffee once, but she brushed me off. Said she had other plans.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, babe. She shouldn’t have done that.”

You sighed. “Well, it’s a public place. And I don’t think she knew I worked there. Did she?”

“I don’t see how. But she was deliberately rude to you, and I don’t like that. You didn’t deserve it.”

“I’ve had to deal with ruder people,” you joked.

“Y/N…”

“Harry…” you mimicked his tone.

“You’re gonna keep taking the piss, aren’t you?” he chuckled.

“Only because I know the real you now.”

“Do you?”

“Um…I…hope I do,” you said.

“Hmm, I reckon you’re one of very few who does.”

“I’m glad,” you grinned, your cheeks warm. “What about Nicolette?”

“What about her?”

“Did she ever see the real you?”

“Not even close. I mean…she knew me on a surface level. She knew I created art. She thought I had talent…or so she claimed. But she didn’t know me any deeper than that.”

“Did she know you like to cook?” you asked.

“I doubt it," Harry snorted. "She lives on cocktails and nicotine. Not exactly the domestic type."

“So it was pretty much just a physical relationship.” The words slipped out before you could stop them. Although you knew the answer, your mouth betrayed you with your brain’s curiosity.

“Um…we don’t have to talk about that.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just…she said something to me that kind of rubbed me wrong.”

“What was that?”

“She said you used her, not the other way around. And that I should watch myself. What did she mean?”

You heard Harry hiss in a breath. “I dunno.”

“Was she implying you’ll use me too?”

“Maybe. Because she’s a bit delusional.”

“I see.”

“Babe…you don’t believe that, do you? Tell me you don’t.”

“I don’t. At least…I hope not. But, you know…we don’t know each other that well yet.”

Harry chuckled, “You just said you knew the real me.”

“I know, but…it’s only been a few days.”

“Honey…” Harry paused as you heard his breaths through the phone. “What do I have to do to convince you?”

“Convince me of what?”

“That I’m not the creep you first met. I’m not a bastard who gets people fired. I’m not an arrogant asshole, and I don’t use women.”

Biting your lip, you fingered the hem on your t-shirt. “That’s not entirely true, is it?”

“What?”

“Well…you said yourself - Nicolette was a rich girl. And you thought she could help you meet people.”

Harry sighed, sounding defeated. “That’s true. And I told you I wasn't proud of it.”

“So you admit you used her.”

“Yeah. But not in the way you think.”

“There’s more than one way?” you laughed nervously.

“It was…kind of mutual, if you will,” replied Harry.

“Okay.”

“There were no feelings involved. I…she wasn’t looking for a relationship. She made it pretty obvious from the beginning. And I was okay with that because…I was too focused on my art to give her more. And she was far too busy to hardly remember I existed.”

“That doesn’t sound fun at all,” you commented.

“It wasn’t,” Harry confirmed. “Her father knew Sherod who owns the art gallery. She helped set me up with an exhibit. We - dated, if you could call it that - for a little over three months. But we barely spent any time together unless it had to do with business. I hardly knew her.”

“And she hardly knew you,” you added.

“Yeah, exactly.”

Exhaling through your nose, you laid back on your pillow. “Thank you for telling me that, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, love. Does it make you feel better?”

“A little. Not that I felt bad or anything. I was just curious.”

“But it did bother you, right? What she said?”

“Yeah.”

“Baby…you do know I’m not using you, right?”

“Well, yeah,” you snickered, “I’m not rich.”

“Y/N!”

You giggled harder. “I’m playing with you, Harry!”

“I swear to God, if you didn’t have such a cute laugh, I’d-” Harry’s words stopped.

“You’d what?”

You heard Harry hum softly, and you could tell he was smiling through the phone. “This is what I mean,” he said genuinely. “Nicolette and I…we didn’t have this. She’s…a different kind of girl. She’s not…”

“Giggly?” you asked.

“She’s not you.”

You felt your heart flip in your chest at his admission. Though your room was dark, you might as well have been walking on sunshine. Your insides danced and glowed while you tried hard to bring together a string of words and form a sentence. Fortunately, Harry continued his thoughts instead.

“I don’t care that it’s only been a few days, a couple of dates. I’m already having way more fun with you than I ever had with her. And I know it’s not fair to compare, and I’m stupid to even try. I just want you to know…that’s how I feel.”

“Wow,” you breathed. “Harry, I…don’t even know what to say.”

“It’s alright. I’ve said enough. Now we can drop the subject before I scare you away.”

You smiled as you silently wished he was with you in person so you could kiss his soft lips.

“Can I ask one more question?”

“Okay.”

“Did you call her back?”

“Nicolette? No…I’m not interested in anything she has to say.”

“Oh.”

“Can we change the subject now, baby?”

“Of course,” you beamed before asking him about the tattoos he’d done that evening, and what art he was currently working on, all while trying to keep your feelings in check every time he gave you a term of endearment.

Harry came to the cafe Friday morning. In fact, he was already there when you’d arrived for the mid-morning shift, Stan and Carol having opened. You smiled when you walked in from the rear entrance, tying your apron, his back to you as he sat in his regular spot.

“Good morning,” you greeted softly as you walked past his table.

He lifted his head from his iPad, giving you a sleepy, lop-sided grin before mouthing, “Morning, sweetheart.”

Your insides melted as usual while you made your way to the front counter. As you greeted Stan and his wife, you stole another glance at the only occupied table. Though you knew it was ludicrous to even consider, you missed him. It was only Tuesday that you’d had that most pleasant day with him, and you’d chatted for over two hours on the phone Wednesday night. But Thursday hadn’t proven to be much of a Harry day. With the exception of a short text during your lunch break when he’d said he would be busy most of the day, and a quick goodnight text before bed, you hadn’t even spoken. You longed to hear his voice, like a lover thousands of miles away from her beloved. You’d shaken the notion the night before after you’d laid in bed staring at the ceiling for an hour after that quick text. You knew he was busy, most likely with his art. And you didn’t feel like it was your place to inquire about it. It was one day for crying out loud.

“Get a hold of yourself, Y/N!” you’d groaned, turning out the lamp and pulling the covers up to your chin.

Still, to see him sat at his usual, familiar table was a huge relief. And the fact he’d called you sweetheart was just icing on the cake.

A few customers trickled in during the first thirty minutes of your shift, and by the next hour, the cafe was nearly full. You were only able to stop by Harry’s table a couple of times, mostly to ask if he wanted a refill and to wipe down nearby tables. Each time, he seemed to be deep into his work. You caught a glimpse or two here and there, but you didn’t want to disturb him. Finally at eleven, Jill came in for her shift and Stan and Carol left soon after.

“How’s everything going with Handsome?” Jill asked as you prepared a latte.

“Fine,” you grinned.

“He seems extra focused today.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I don’t wanna bother him.”

Just then, as if he knew you were talking about him, Harry lifted his head and peered over at you. His smile grew across his face as he sat back and stretched. You couldn’t help but smile back. And when he motioned for you to come his way, your breath caught in your throat.

“Sorry, love, I wasn’t trying to ignore you,” he said when you reached his table.

“I know. You looked very busy and deep in thought,” you nodded.

“It’s only ‘cause I was trying to finish up a few things.”

“Okay,” you shrugged.

Harry surprised you by reaching out his hand to your waist and pulling you closer.

“I wasn’t trying to ignore you yesterday either. I had a lot of business to tend to. But I thought about you.” His other hand slid around the other side of your waist as his eyes gazed up at you.

“You don’t have to reassure me, Harry,” you partially lied.

“No? Hmm, thought maybe you missed me. ‘Cause I missed you.”

A nervous laughter left your chest and you shook your head. “God, you’re good.”

“Yeah? Good at what?”

“At…making me feel…things.”

“Hmm,” Harry lifted his brows. “What kind of things?”

The door opened then, and a couple of people walked in. Seeing that Jill already had a customer, you figured you should help.

“I have to get back to work, Harry,” you commented, grabbing his wrists and pulling them from your hips.

“Alright,” he smirked. “I have to go anyway. Can I see you tonight?”

“Don’t you have to work?”

“Kyle’s closing tonight. I get off at nine.”

“Oh! Okay, yeah.”

“Good,” Harry grinned, rising from his chair and slipping his backpack over his shoulder. “I’ll call you later, babe.”

Then with no hesitation at all, he cupped your chin with one hand and planted a big, wet kiss on your lips. For what was probably just two seconds in reality, you stood frozen in your spot as though time was fastforwarding around you, your eyes wide, your mouth open as Harry murmured a goodbye and left the cafe.

Your phone buzzed that evening while you were in the middle of a writing session. You hadn’t written anything in what seemed like forever. But somehow, you were suddenly inspired. And you figured the caller had a lot to do with it.

“Hey!” you answered with a smile in your voice.

“Hi, beautiful. I have a request.”

“Oh?”

“So…there’s been a change of plans for tonight.”

“Oh,” you frowned, disappointment apparent in your tone.

“How do you feel about a cocktail party?” asked Harry.

“I…what…where?”

Harry chuckled. “It’s at the gallery. It’s kind of last minute, I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to put together something for a potential buyer. That’s part of what I was working on yesterday. I was hoping to set something up for next week, but turns out the client’s only in town this weekend. And I have to work late tomorrow night.”

“Oh. Well, that’s exciting! I’ve never been to one of these types of things though. You sure you want me there?”

“You’re the only person I want there, love. Well, besides the client, of course.”

“Then I’d love to come.”

“Great! I’m gonna try to leave a bit early, so can you be ready at nine o’clock?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you so much, baby. I’ll see you then.”

“Are you nervous?” you asked when Harry parked the car.

“Why, do I look nervous?” he turned his head to look at you. His eyes were wild and he continued to drum his hands against the steering wheel.

“A little,” you smirked. Then you reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “It’s okay if you are though. I totally understand.”

Harry’s chest rose and fell with a deep breath before he squeezed your hand. “I guess I am. I just…want this to go well.”

“It will. I believe.”

Harry’s eyes twinkled in the dim light from the dashboard. “Thanks, babe. You look absolutely gorgeous tonight, by the way. Did I tell you?”

“You may have mentioned it,” you beamed. You’d been so relieved to find the little black dress in the back of your closet from two years ago. And even more relieved that it still fit. But that relief didn’t compare to the look on Harry’s face when you’d opened the door. His obvious heart-eyes matched yours as you took in his sexy black suit and open shirt.

“Are you ready to go in?” you asked him.

“Yeah,” he exhaled again, opening the car door.

Stepping into the gallery, you were surprised to see a small marquee with Harry's name on it. To the right stood the woman you recognized from the reception desk. She greeted you both with a smile, letting you know Sherod was already waiting inside.

"Harry! There you are!" announced the gallery owner when you rounded the corner. "And you dear, you look smashing!" Sherod held out his hand to you and gave you a chaste kiss on the cheek."

"Thank you," you blushed.

You noticed a handful of people gathered around Harry's art as a waiter walked up with a tray of wine, offering you a glass.

"He's not here yet, I take it," remarked Harry.

"Not yet. He's on his way."

You watched as Harry and Sherod made small talk with the other guests, Harry introducing you to them which made you feel nice. Each time someone would give him a compliment, you felt his hand press against your lower back as though you were his rock steadying him.

You were both on your second glasses of wine when the so-called potential client arrived. He wasn't what you were expecting - although you weren't sure what that was. Donovan McNulty wore a navy blue suit with a red shirt and tie. He was probably an inch or two shorter than Harry with bleached blonde hair and an Irish accent. He had a pleasant smile that seemed to be permanent on his face. You liked him right away.

You listened as he expressed his interest in Harry's art. While he liked all of his work, he was particularly fond of one piece, the one that you had secretly declared your personal favorite.

"It's the perfect piece for my office, directly behind my desk," remarked Donovan as he held his hands up like a frame.

You beamed at Harry, trying to hide your glee from the client.

"I think that would be a smart choice," you heard a female voice say behind you.

Twirling around, you were met with the one face you hoped you'd never have to see again.

"Harry, so sorry I'm late," Nicolette said with her pointed face as she placed her hand on his bicep before addressing the buyer, extending her other hand. "Good evening. Nicolette Waters."

"Donovan McNulty, love! How d'you do?"

You stood glaring at the interaction before turning to Harry. "What is she doing here?" you seethed.

"I dunno. I told her it wasn't a good idea."

"You told her? You said you hadn't talked to her."

"I know, babe, I'm sorry. But she got a hold of me yesterday. She kinda helped me set this up. I asked her not to come, though."

Unable to form any more words, you stared at him, a lump in your throat. You could feel the tears threatening to form in your eyes and you blinked rapidly.

"Excuse me…" you cried before escaping the area, hastily searching for the ladies room.

Moments later as you sat in the stall, wiping your tears, you heard a wrap on the door.

"Y/N. Baby, please come out. I'm sorry. I should have told you." While his voice was low and calm, his words were anxious. "I'll explain everything when we leave. I just need you to come out now, okay? Please?"

You realized then that you weren't exactly sure what you were upset about. Was it that Harry hadn't told you about Nicolette? Or simply that she'd shown up? Either way, you knew that this night wasn't about you. It was about Harry. And his art. This was his night, his chance. And you didn't want to ruin it.

Sniffling, you rose from the toilet and flushed it. "I'll be right there, Harry," you called. After washing your hands, you were surprised to find him still standing on the other side of the door. His expression was a combination of concern and indignation, his jaw set.

"I'm so sorry," he said again. "I honestly didn't think-"

"It's fine, Harry," you held up your hand. "Like you said, you can tell me later. Let's go talk to Mr. McNulty."

"You sure you're okay?"

You nodded, giving him a tight smile. He hesitantly took your hand and you followed him back to the party. Nicolette was still giving Donovan an earful, or perhaps it was the other way around. You stood back, releasing Harry's fingers from your own, gesturing for him to take the lead. You watched with pride as he interjected the conversation, re-earning the client's attention. Before long, the two seemed like old mates, Harry making Donovan laugh and vice versa.

"He's so very talented," one of the other women said to you a few minutes later when you decided to wander around the gallery.

"Yes," you nodded. "He is."

"I heard he does custom tattoos as well. Is that true?"

Turning to face the woman, you noticed she had a sleeve of ink on her left arm. Grinning, you nodded again. "Fine Line Ink is his shop. He owns it."

"Oh, I'll have to check it out! Not that I need any more tattoos," she chuckled.

"I'm about to get my first," you commented quickly. You weren't sure why you said it. But you realized then that it was the truth.

"Oh, really? I figured being his girlfriend, you'd already have loads."

Color rose to your cheeks. "We just started dating."

The woman's eyes widened as she leaned closer and touched your arm. "You must be very special to him, then!"

After your little chat with the friendly woman, you were eyeing that tranquil painting that you and Harry admired when you felt a hand slip around your waist.

"I sold it," he whispered in your ear.

You grinned. "I knew you would."

"You ready to go?"

You shifted to face him. "Already? That's it?"

"Yep. Sherod takes care of the rest."

"And Nicolette?"

"She left. Few moments ago."

"Okay."

Harry led you outside to his car, opening the passenger door for you. Neither of you said anything else until you were stopped at a red light.

"Please forgive me, love. I know I should have told you."

"Yeah, you should have. Especially after telling me you had no interest in talking to her."

"I didn't. But she found me yesterday. There at the gallery, actually. She told me about McNulty. He was very interested in my art. I couldn't let a potential sale slip away. You get that, right?"

"I do," you nodded. "And I'm sorry I ran off. It was selfish of me. I was just upset she was there and…I guess I was jealous."

"Nothing to be jealous over, Y/N. It was strictly business. I told her I didn't think it was a good idea for her to come, even though she acted like she was entitled to be there since she'd gotten me the lead."

"I guess I can understand that," you said.

"She shouldn't have though. She only did it out of spite. And I'm sorry I hurt you in the process. I shouldn't have kept it from you. I just hoped she wouldn't show. I was stupid to think she wouldn't."

Lifting your hand to his shoulder, you slid it down his arm. "You’re forgiven."

Harry was quiet again until he was almost at his flat. Clearing his throat he looked at you.

"Again, I shouldn't have assumed. Am I driving to my place…or yours?"

You considered his question for a moment. While you still felt a sourness in the pit of your stomach, you knew you weren’t angry with him. It was his special night, and he’d earned that sale. As a smile slowly grew on your lips, you threaded your fingers through his.

"I guess that depends on how you want to celebrate."

One more part left which will be reposted tomorrow. Thank you for all the likes and reblogs! I wish I hadn't deleted this in the first place, but hopefully it's gotten some new readers. :)

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