#The Scarf Zayne made me (which I use less like a scarf and more like a safty blanket at this point good texture)

[emile-hides]

Happy December 26th y’all I hope everyone gets to rest well until the new year comes along. I know I will be.

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ starting prompt: based off a tweet i saw that said ‘we always kinda shipped them together. he kept scoffing that he didn’t like her and yet he always look at her first when someone made a joke to see if she was laughing too’.  

♡ pairing: walter hahn (WWE / NXT) x fem reader

♡ lyric inspiration: “come with me and you’ll be in a world of pure imagination. take a look and you’ll see into your imagination. i’ll be begin with a spin....”

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes

"who’s that?” Walter asked his blond friend. Marcel looked up to see you, headphones in and blaring music so loud that everyone was able to hear. “oh, that’s ( your name ). she’s Timothy’s-,” before he could finish the sentence, Timothy came up to you and gave you a quick hug, “that’s his manager. she also works in the front office,” he continued. 

Walter’s eyebrows went down in confusion. never in the time that they were together in RingKampf had he ever took interest in having a manager and from the looks of it, you were the exact opposite of Tim. from afar, you were bubbly, excitable, and cute. 

Tim was nothing of the sort. polar opposites one might say. 

you were sitting in your seat as Tim was eating lunch. dancing to whatever you were listening, Walter couldn’t help but laugh at your antics. he knew Tim like the back of his hand so the decision to make you his manager was either his doing or something that was out of his hand. 

“she’s....interesting,” he said under his breath, making Marcel look at him for a moment, “any particular reason why you’re so interested in her? she’s been his manager for a while now,” Marcel put in. Walter shook his head, deciding not to respond. 

you were Tim, watching as he scarfed down his dinner while you finished up a few papers that needed to get done for next weeks taping. you were supposed to be dressed and ready to go by six but because of Tim’s new storyline with the boys from Imperium, you had to figure out a few things before the match. 

Timothy was a bit hard headed at first, stating that he didn’t need a manager but after a while, he got used to having you around. you were almost like a pest that he cared about like a sister. 

“hey, your friends are over there! why don’t you say hi!” you exclaimed, seeing Walter, Fabian, and Marcel in a corner, speaking to each other, “no. we’re not supposed to be speaking with each other,” was all he said before continuing to eat. 

you huffed before scooting out of your chair, “well, I’m going to say hello. since we’re going to be working with each other, I guess it’s only right to get formalities out of the way,” you stated, making Tim’s eyes go wide in panic. 

he instantly tried to get you to come back but by the time he tried to reach for you to come back, you were already prancing over to them. 

“hi!” you exclaimed happily. Fabian, the friendliest of the bunch gave you a smile, “i’m ( your name )! Tim’s manager. it’s nice to meet all of you!” you introduced yourself, giving them your hand to shake. 

Fabian introduced himself, giving you a hug instead. Marcel on the other hand just took the handshake and murmured his name to you. Walter remained looking at you, not bothering to say anything outside of giving you a simple head nod. 

to the untrained eye, like yourself and others, Walter’s reaction was a given. he was never a man of many words yet to the boys and Tim, they could see that Walter was holding himself back. almost like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. 

you giving Walter a smile, one that would’ve made anyone fall for you but he just turned his head to another direction and started to speak to Marcel in German. you gave Fabian a confused look, wondering why he didn’t tell you much but you felt a hand clasp onto your shoulder a second after. 

“evening boys,” Tim’s voice spoke from behind you. you gave him another look, wondering why he went back on his word from earlier, “they’re looking for you in makeup and they’re pissed,” he whispered into your ear.

your eyes widened, realizing you were beyond late to get your makeup done. you gave them a quick goodbye, shoving your work into Tim’s hands and screaming at him to put it into your office before basically darting off to the makeup station. 

Tim, Fabian, Marcel, and now Alex who had shown up looked at Walter with suspecting eyes. no one said a word but Tim could sense Walter had taken an infatuation with you. 

+

a few weeks passed since your encounter with Walter and the rest of Imperium. since you were working 'against’ them now, outside of the ring, you got a bit close to Marcel and Alex. they would invite you to sit next to them when Tim wasn’t with you. 

you tried to get closer with Walter but he always closed you off. he would say absolutely nothing to you and when had too, it wasn’t anything besides a few words. at first you thought that maybe you just annoyed him to the point where he didn’t like you but eventually, Tim told you that he was just that way with anyone that didn’t know him. 

“good morning to my favorite Germans!” you said, running up to Marcel and Alex, engulfing them into a forced hug. they stood stiff, basically embracing the forced hug, “and Walter!” you added on, giving him a brief wave. 

“where’s your boyfriend?” Alex asked, looking around. you fluttered your eyebrows in confusion, “boyfriend? wanna tell me who that is?” you asked. Marcel gave you a hearty laugh, “Tim. he’s asking for Timothy,” he stated. 

you let out a laugh, louder than you intended as you sat down next to Walter and Alex, “Tim? my boyfriend? that’s like saying it’s gonna snow in Florida. never going to happen,” you joked, trying to calm down your giggles. “very defensive about it, aren’t ya?” Alex added on. 

“people love the idea that we’re secretly together but Timothy is like an annoying brother. I love him but I wanna kick his ass 90% of the time. the other 10 is caring that he doesn’t get killed by you guys.” 

before you could continue, you heard a producer call your name, telling you that you were needed to clear up a few things for Hunter. you told them goodbye and went over to the producer. 

“so she’s single, huh?” Alex said, tapping his chin. Marcel looked at him, “why do you care?” he asked. Alex shrugged, “now that we know maybe this idiot will ask her out,” he mentioned. 

Marcel let out a laugh as Walter stared at him annoyed, “yeah right. he actually has to make conversation first and he can’t even do that with her. I’ve been hearing a few people have been interested in asking her out. not that she knows or anything,” Marcel said quietly. 

he actually had no idea if anyone was interested in you or not. personally, he could have cared less but he knew his best friend better than anyone else. Walter liked you, he was just too much of a chicken shit to actually admit to it. 

“who?” Walter asked almost immediately. Marcel closed the circle in, “for starters, in the NXT roster is Jordan Devlin and Sami Zayn from Smackdown has been rumored to have gotten her number,” Marcel lied. Alex perked at the names, “and how did you find out?” he asked, a bit suspicious that he knew. 

Marcel shrugged, not bothering to say anything for a moment, “oh, just heard a few of the girls talking yesterday while I was working out,” Walter stared at the table, his mind racing with thoughts. he never knew others actually had taken an interest in you, not that it was wrong to do as such but he was taken back that it was more than one person. 

“what has you so quiet all of a sudden?” Walter shook his head, not responding as he got up, taking his jacket with him and leaving the table. “I wonder what his problem is,” Alex murmured. Marcel laughed, “he’s finally going to grow a pair and ask her out,” Marcel stated. 

-

you were working in your office, sorting through a few different files you needed for a storyline in the women’s division. it was already late into the night as you filed the sheets away and started to get your things ready to leave.

“of course this week had to be my busiest week, now I have to call an Uber home,” you groaned. you had put your car in the shop because of a few issues it had and it wasn’t expected to get finished until at least Monday, “god damn it Tim, you just had to leave,” you huffed. 

just as you pulled your phone out, you saw Walter walking out of the locker room, “hey Walter! what are you doing here so late?” you asked, trying not to make it awkward, “I stayed working out late,” he said. 

you nodded, “ah, don’t overwork yourself now,” you mentioned, “but give me a second? I need to call an Uber home. my car is stuck at the mechanics until Monday and Tim already left,” Walter’s eyes widened, realizing this was his chance. 

“I have a car, I can take you home?” he asked, trying not to come off as intimidating. you perked up in relief, “really? that would be so amazing!” you said happily. he grabbed his keys and jiggled them, “my cars on the other side of the building,” he said.

you followed behind, trying to make conversation and interestingly enough, he was actually responding to you like a normal person would. not those snippets of conversations he would say around the others. 

the entire ride home, you were trying to crack jokes, seemingly trying to make him laugh which ended in you making an idiot out of yourself and making him laugh that way instead. Walter had never realized he actually liked you as much as the others would joke he did but now that it was just the two of you, he could sense the feelings were there. 

the ride to your house was a bit on the shorter side. you lived in a small two bedroom house, closer to Full-Sail than he thought. just as he put the car into park to let you get out, you turned around and gave him a smile, making Walter glad that it dark outside and you weren’t able to see his sudden red face. 

“I know this is weird but would you like to come in? I have food I made for myself this morning after I came from work and I’m sure there’s enough for you.” 

Walter sighed in relief. 

“I would love too.” 

[hookedontaronfics]

Honky Dancer series - Chapter 3

Chapter title: Caught in the Middle Read the previous installment here: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 Rating: M Pairing: Taron x OC Warnings: Slight cursing, mentions of sex A/N:   More mature themes will develop, so be warned! Enjoy! X

I had never felt so tired in all my life. Or so happy.

I knew balancing work, rehearsals and being a mum would be difficult but I had completely underestimated how exhausting it would also be. Still, I wouldn’t have given up my chance to dance for Rocketman for the world, and somehow my daughter intrinsically gathered that her mummy was doing something inherently “cool” and managed to not give me too much grief when I fell asleep at the supper table. On more than one occasion in the past two weeks.

Still, we managed to fall into a rhythm with me actually getting dinner on the table and helping Clara get her homework done and off to bed at a reasonable hour, and after a lot of bitching on my part, my ex started picking up the slack, which gave me more time to actually sleep. I hated missing out on those evenings with Clara when she was with Zayn but I also knew it was temporary, and I needed to still take care of myself too.

Which is what I was doing that very evening, sitting on the bathroom floor and unwrapping the blood-soaked gauze from my poor feet. I sucked in my breath as I treated the various blisters I’d collected. Yes, even though I danced for a living, I could still end up with battered feet the same as any novice dancer. I hadn’t spent a lot of time in character shoes and my feet weren’t happy about it. I ran some bath water, poured in some epsom salts, and perched on the edge of the tub as I soaked my feet, sighing at the mild relief this afforded me.

Just then my phone pinged with a text, and I reached over to grab it from the sink.

<Rich and I will be in “Honky Cat” rehearsals tomorrow. I have to admit, I’m feeling rather nervous but it will be nice to have a familiar face there.>

I couldn’t help but grin at that. Taron and I had become fast friends over the past couple of weeks. Any time he saw me in the studio he’d stop to chat and was just engaging and charming always, even when he looked beyond tired. I appreciated his sort of positive manner and the way he was kind to literally everyone. He had confided in me about his insecurity over his dancing ability, and even commented that he wasn’t sure he was going to love it, but knowing I’d be there made it feel a little less like a chore. Every time he said something like that I wasn’t exactly sure how to take it.

<We’ll take it easy on you, promise! It won’t be so bad, you’ll see> I texted back with a small smile.

<Yes well, me in tap shoes is an absolute recipe for disaster> Taron texted back, and I had to disagree. It would probably be exceedingly sexy, but I wouldn’t exactly be telling him I thought that.

<As long as you don’t fall on your ass, I’m sure no one will laugh> I teased him lightly.

<There are no guarantees> he replied, making me shake my head and also suddenly start thinking about his ass, which I didn’t need any help with drooling over. He’d alluded more than once to how large he thought his ass was, but I just couldn’t see it. Sure, he was never going to be a lanky man, but that didn’t fit the bill for everyone and I personally thought he was rather fit.

We texted for a little bit longer but I was so knackered that I decided to call it a night shortly after. Dancing already took a lot out of you and required a lot of energy and sweat equity; trying to do that exhausted and semi-braindead was the true recipe for disaster. 

Still, I was excited for tomorrow’s rehearsals. We’d already been working on our “Honky Cat” sequence, as obviously our choreography was more involved than what Taron or Richard Madden would have to learn. I’d yet to meet Richard, though he was all the other girls could talk about. Apparently he was rather handsome but I really only had eyes for Taron, even though we would likely only ever be friends.

I crawled into bed gratefully and crashed hard, having a strange dream where the dancers were actually human-size cats dancing around in sequined, sparkling regalia and waking up semi-amused and also slightly terrified. I grabbed my jar of overnight oats and ate them on the tube as I made my way across town to the now-familiar Paramount studios.

I joined everyone else in warming up, stretching out my long legs in a split, trying to stay loose. The older I got, the more of a battle that ended up being. I chatted lightly with Markus, who I’d gotten to know even better as he stretched next to me. A lot of times the five of us, including Dennis, Pietre and Leah, took our meal breaks together and had come to be quite close friends. I was nervous, for some reason, to be rehearsing with Taron and Richard, though I had no idea why that made me nervous. Maybe it was simply because I didn’t know what to expect with the two.

“So I was thinking we could maybe get drinks later tonight. I’m finally free,” Markus said, breaking into my thoughts.

“Hmmm?” I asked, shaking my head. “Oh, right, yes… We should,” I smiled, remembering that I’d promised to do that with him. “That would be nice. Just tell me when and where,” I said sweetly as Markus’ eyes fairly raked over my body in the leotard and sweatpants I was wearing.

I think he was about to respond but then our choreographer and assistants entered the room, and along with them, Taron and Richard. Somehow Taron’s gaze managed to find mine across the room, and he gave me a sweet smile as the choreographer called us all to attention. He introduced Taron and Richard to us [as if we didn’t know who they were already] and I managed to see several girls pretending to fan themselves. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes slightly at their behavior. Just because I found Taron sexy didn’t mean I was going to let anyone else know it.

We soon got down to business, running through our choreography as Taron and Richard were led through their various parts in all of it. Taron seemed engaged and curious, while Richard was quieter and perhaps more observant.

There were multiple facets of the Honky Cat sequence. At one point the choreo required all the men as tailors and waiters; at another, several of us girls were selected for a dressing room-type setup. I was one of the lucky few chosen for that part, and I had a burning curiosity to know whether Taron had anything to do with that. The part we were working on today, though, was the last finale number, which included tap shoes, top hats and a lot of flamboyance.

To their credit, Taron and Richard put in a hell of an effort though it was obvious neither of them were natural dancers. But they laughed at themselves often and didn’t take it too seriously when they totally messed up, and by the time a break was called we were all a bit out of breath and I had the chorus stuck on endless repeat in my head.

“Hey! You’re doing great!” I grinned as I walked over to Taron. His face lit up as soon as he saw me, and when I came near he threw his arm around me casually.

“Well I haven’t completely disgraced myself yet, you mean,” he laughed. “Have you met Richard yet?” he added, as Richard actually extended his hand out to me, so I took it gingerly and he placed a kiss on my hand. I could literally feel the glaring daggers from the other girls behind me.

“Hi, it’s Juliette. It’s so nice to meet you. Taron’s only gone on and on about you,” I said, making Richard laugh. He had a rather cute chuckle and I could see his curls plastered to his forehead with sweat. Let me tell you, it wasn’t a bad look on him, but I also couldn’t forget the fact that Taron’s arm was around me like we were just old chums. He probably wasn’t thinking about how it would look to anyone else in the room.

“Has he now?” Richard grinned.

“Guilty as charged,” Taron just smirked.

“Not remotely surprised,” Richard bantered right back in that accent of his; I could understand how he made girls literally melt. It was also fun to see Taron and Richard’s obvious camaraderie as we chatted a bit longer before needing to get back to rehearsals. 

I was honestly impressed with the amount of energy and enthusiasm Taron (especially) and Richard gave during rehearsals, if not actual skill. Sometimes effort made up for a lack of actual technicality, at least in the entertainment aspect, and I already knew this movie was going to be entertaining as hell.

Taron, of course, caught up with me as we were packing up to leave. I had two afternoon classes to get to before I was free for the evening, so my lessons were on my mind and I was in a bit of a hurry to get across the city. “Hey, you seem busy,” he said, walking along with me as I headed toward the exit.

“I’ve got two classes to teach still,” I explained. “No rest for the weary, it seems,” I smiled.

“No, I guess not,” he said, looking as if he had something on his mind but had decided not to ask.

“Did you have something to ask me, or …?” I asked, turning to him slightly.

“Oh, it’s probably not important,” he said, shaking his head. “And I really don’t want to add to your workload.”

“If you were about to ask me for help with the choreo, I’d love to. Text me later and we can figure out a time, yeah?” I grinned, and he looked both surprised I had sussed it out and also relieved that I had already agreed to it.

“You’re brilliant. Thank you,” he said, biting his lip slightly, making his adorable dimples pop out.

“Yeah, gotta run, but we’ll talk!” I grinned, waving and pushing my way out into the still-too-warm day. I made it through classes, texting with Taron off and on until we finally agreed on a plan. I didn’t actually have rehearsals the next day, so he agreed to meet me at work after I was done teaching, and we’d have one of the studios to ourselves. Nothing could go wrong with that, right?

I had just enough time to run home, shower, scarf some dinner and try to get ready for my date with Markus. I put on a cute floral dress and a jean jacket over that and pulled on a pair of white slip-on sneaks. I felt effortlessly cute and was excited to spend some time outside of rehearsal with Markus. We had some kind of chemistry and I was curious to see exactly what that meant for us. As Madison had told me, it was time to finally move on from Zayn.

I had agreed to meet up with Markus at a basement cocktail bar called “Happiness Forgets” over in Shoreditch. The place was pricey and popular, and was bustling when I arrived, but Markus found me immediately, sliding his arm around my back and escorting me to the seat he’d saved for me. He looked amazing in tight jeans and a plaid shirt, a grey beanie pulled over his hair and making those steely grey eyes of his stand out.

We ordered drinks and had to lean in quite close to hear each other over the din of the place. The conversation flowed pretty easily and he really made me laugh. I was feeling myself start to relax as I finished my first drink and ordered a second. A couple of times, though, I caught myself thinking things like “I wonder what Taron would think about that,” and I had to wonder what was wrong with me. I tried to make myself focus on Markus and only Markus, because thinking about anyone else wasn’t fair to him.

The night wore on and I admittedly got a fair bit more drunk than I had intended. I was having trouble standing, actually, and was leaning heavily on Markus. “My place is really close to here. Maybe we should just head there first, let you sober up a bit?” he offered, and I nodded at that. Anything to make the room stop spinning would be good. I don’t remember much of the taxi ride to Markus’ flat, to be honest, other than thinking he was absolutely hilarious. God, I was such an idiotic drunk.

He made me sit on his couch and brought me some water, and then sat really close to me, his hand on my bare knee as I sipped the water and tried to focus on his face. We talked briefly - I don’t remember what was said now - before he leaned in and kissed me. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it didn’t light a fire in me either. But it’d been a while since I’d kissed any boy, and I was drunk and I think just wanting to get it over with. So our kisses turned into a lot more, and somehow we ended up in the bedroom together.

He’d pulled my underwear off and shoved my dress above my hips, and he must have been pretty drunk too because otherwise he might have noticed that I wasn’t really into what was happening. I remember wondering if I really wanted to sleep with Markus, but then he was on top of me and pushing inside me and I didn’t tell him no. Did I want this? Did I want him? Or was there someone else on my mind?

I woke up the next morning with my head pounding, alone in the bed. I was disoriented and my mouth was dry. I sat up, still in my dress from the night before and feeling sore between my legs. I groaned as images from the night before started to come back to me. I rolled out of bed and retrieved my underwear from the floor, pulling them up before going to look for the bathroom. The flat was small, so that wasn’t hard to find. I did my business and then looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess, my makeup smudged and I felt like a cheap whore. That wasn’t exactly the outcome I had been hoping for. Even worse, I couldn’t actually remember if my paramour had used a condom. How I was always getting into these situations was beyond me, but I was feeling pretty low about myself. 

I scrubbed my face and ran my fingers through my hair, trying to make myself look a little less awful before going into the main room. Markus was in the kitchen, the sound of something sizzling making my stomach turn. The last thing I could think about was food. Markus came out and wrapped his arms around me, kissing me sweetly, obviously a lot happier about how things had gone than I was. I plastered a smile on my face for him anyway.

“Hey sleepyhead. How are you feeling?” he asked me.

“Hungover as hell, to be honest,” I sighed, rubbing my forehead as he went to retrieve some painkillers and orange juice for me. He was being so sweet to me, so why did I feel so sour? I thought with a sigh. 

It was still early, which meant I wasn’t going to be late for classes, so at least I had that going for me. I put on my best performance for Markus, trying to keep up with his small talk until I could excuse myself without seeming rude. I had no idea what was wrong with me; I’d truly enjoyed his company. He was funny, engaging, and easy on the eyes too. Any girl would be happy to be with him, I was certain. Even worse, he had actually been sweet to me after the fact. Maybe I would have felt better if he’d treated me how I felt on the inside. These thoughts stayed with me the entire rest of the day, and I was exhausted by keeping up a cheery persona through my entire roster of classes.

I had completely forgotten about agreeing to help Taron until he showed up at the dance academy, asking for me at the front desk. They’d sent him up to my studio and I jumped when he peeked his head around the door.

“Oh my goodness, hi,” I said, feeling at once flustered and somehow not prepared, even though there really wasn’t anything to be prepared for. I didn’t like getting caught off guard, but Taron also hadn’t done anything wrong so I tried to once again stuff my irritation with myself down deep.

“Juliette, your student awaits,” he giggled cutely, holding out his arms in a grand gesture before taking in my countenance. I had at least managed to grab a shower on my break, but I still must have looked rough because his brow wrinkled in concern. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Just exhausted, Taron, but it’s the usual lately,” I said, trying to muster a smile for him.

“We could always reschedule,” he said, walking softly across the hardwood floor. “I’m more concerned about you right now.”

“That’s awfully sweet of you, but I promise I’m fine. Dancing will help me forget I’m so tired,” I grinned. Yeah, dancing with Taron specifically would help me forget my troubles, I thought, as we wired his phone into the studio’s speakers. He’d managed to smuggle out a copy of Honky Cat and made me promise not to tell anyone, which just made me giggle. Such a rebel.

“Who am I going to tell, Taron Egerton, my mum?” I asked, making him chuckle at that.

“Well, mum’s the word, m’dear,” he snickered, and his joy instantly lifted my mood.

“Very punny,” I laughed despite myself. “Alright, let’s get something done, shall we?”

We went to work and probably laughed more than Taron actually danced, but I was able to help make some sense out of certain movements for him, things that weren’t natural in the way we normally walked or moved our bodies. Learning that dance language took years to perfect, but I loved seeing the lightbulb go off in his mind; his face was always just so expressive so it was obvious when something clicked for him. I enjoyed how much of a natural performer he was also; I’m sure some of the funny faces he pulled were only for my benefit that day, but he was the most joyous person I’d ever been around.

There was one movement he was struggling with, though, and I crouched down to help explain it. I was so used to physically correcting my students that I don’t think I exactly thought it through when I put my hand square against his hip and told him to give me his leg. I was grateful he wasn’t looking at me because I was blushing hard.

He shifted his weight into his right as I tugged his foot up, making him bend his knee. He tottered like that for a brief moment, trying to figure out his balance, and cursed slightly when he started to fall and had to catch himself but then crashed into me slightly. “Fuck, I’m sorry!” he gasped, embarrassed and red-faced but I had to laugh.

“Taron, you’re not the first guy that’s fallen on me,” I teased, waving it off and realizing how very close our faces were now as we stared at each other. He had his hands on my shoulders to steady himself, but then dropped them awkwardly to his sides.

“Still, I feel like I should apologize,” he admitted, and I shook my head.

“Nonsense. It happens. And no one would feel comfortable in platform tap shoes anyway. I think you’re doing brilliantly, and that you wanted to work on this outside of rehearsals shows how much you care. Now, let’s try it again.”

We worked on that sequence more than a few times, and I think he was getting it by the time I decided we should take a water break. He left to use the restroom and I grabbed my phone, checking it in case I had any updates on Clara I needed to attend to. Instead I had several texts from Markus asking me when we might get together again. The idea of it actually made me slightly apprehensive, but I gave a non-committal “soon! Look forward to it” and figured that wouldn’t actually be happening soon because we were both incredibly busy with rehearsals and teaching. Dating as an adult in my 30s was so completely different then it ever had been when I was younger. I didn’t realize all the time I used to have back then that actually belonged to me; now it was just enough to get myself fed and showered and keep my flat some semblance of not a total disaster.

I must have been extremely lost in thought because I didn’t hear Taron return until he had taken a seat next to me on the floor, crossing his legs and tipping his water bottle back. “Going to tell me what’s bothering you now?” he asked gently.

I wanted to lie and say everything was great, but the way he was looking over at me, studying my face in his introspective way, told me he’d already determined I was using this session to run away from my problems.

“I went out with Markus last night. We had sex, and now I feel awful,” I blurted out. I have no idea what possessed me to tell him that much, but I also intrinsically knew I could trust him. And somehow, it made me feel better to get that off my chest too.

“Why do you feel awful. He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Taron said, narrowing his eyes for a moment but I vehemently shook my head.

“No, nothing like that. It’s just, I was very drunk and I’m not sure I would have made that choice had I been completely sober,” I admitted. “But the thing is, there’s nothing wrong with Markus, and I enjoyed his company a lot. And I don’t know if there’s just something wrong with, well, me.”

“What? Of course there isn’t anything wrong with you, Juliette. You don’t have to be physically into every guy you go out to drinks with,” he said, reaching over and grabbing my hand supportively. And it was comforting, that one small gesture. “That doesn’t make you wrong. It makes you human, and full of emotions and desires that don’t have to make sense to anyone else.”

I’m not sure what response I had expected from Taron, maybe to assume something bad about Markus? But he had said nothing of the sort, was only protective and supportive of me and how I was feeling. I looked over at him, searching his gaze for something but I wasn’t really sure what.

“You are crazy talented, and have the most generous heart when it comes to your students, and your beauty is beyond my ability to describe,” he spoke in a whisper. But the way he drew goosebumps over my skin without a single touch, he might as well have been shouting them in a megaphone. Oh, I heard him loud and clear, my breath catching in my throat like I’d just done 18 fouettes in a row.

“You can’t possibly mean that about me,” I whispered back.

“Oh but I do, and I’ve thought it ever since I saw you dance. Your spirit just commands the space. I don’t even think you’re aware of that, but you put all of who you are out there. You’re not afraid to just be in that moment, completely and unapologetically who you are. And it’s both admirable and breath-taking. Maybe no one else has taken the time to look, but I have, and I see you.”

The tension in the room couldn’t have been heavier at the moment, as I crashed so suddenly into feelings I’d been holding back, feelings I wouldn’t allow because there was no way Taron would have returned them. Only right now, the words he was speaking said otherwise.

“We should get back to our rehearsal,” I said a bit weakly, closing my eyes for a moment, almost as if to break the spell his green eyes had put me under.

It didn’t work, because the next thing I knew, I had leaned in and he met me the rest of the way, kissing me so gently, so achingly sweetly, I wasn’t sure I’d ever really been kissed before. And then I kissed him back, and his hand gently tangled in my hair, and the room started to spin in a completely different way. We got lost in the feeling of our lips against one another’s, our breaths mingling as an entirely new facet of our relationship opened up before us. I could have kissed him forever, but we had to breathe at some point, and we were both panting when we pulled away. I giggled shyly, covering my mouth with my hand and at a total loss for words. I had just made out with Taron freaking Egerton, and I just wanted to do it some more.

“Holy shit, I’m so… I didn’t mean… I mean, was that okay?” he asked me, eyes wide and looking a bit shell-shocked himself, like he had no idea what had gotten into himself.

“Better than okay,” I nodded, a bit breathlessly.

“I don’t want to be taking advantage of you being emotional or anything,” he said, stuttering a bit over his words.

“Taron, just stop. I know you wouldn’t be like that,” I smiled, slowly running my fingers over my lips, which were still tingling. “I’ve been feeling this for weeks about you.”

“You have?” he asked, the surprise evident in his voice. Clearly, I’d done a good job at acting indifferent toward him but the last bits of my resolve had already crumbled away.

“I mean, it’s hard to not be curious. We clearly get along really well. And the more I’ve gotten to know you, the more I’ve wanted to know about who you really are away from the cameras.”

“So, how about that dinner we talked about? I could bore you for hours about all of that,” he said with an adorable grin. “Let me prove I’m more of a gentleman than I just showed you,” he chuckled, running his fingers through his hair a bit shyly.

“How about Saturday?” I smiled; his nervousness as he fidgeted with his hands was cute.

“Yeah, perfect. I’ll pick you up, so just text me your address,” he said.

“I can take the tube, it’s no big deal,” I laughed.

“But it is to me. I don’t make my ladies get themselves about town. You’ll be properly escorted, m’dear,” he said, smirking at me slightly.

“I can’t argue with that,” I said, genuinely excited about it and looking forward to some one-on-one time with Taron not at the studios. There was so much I still wanted to know about him, and he still didn’t know about Clara yet either. I figured dinner might be the best time to bring it up, lay the cards on the table so the speak.

“So, shall we get back to this rehearsal of ours, then?” I laughed. “We aren’t stopping until you get that sequence down perfectly,” I smirked as he groaned playfully. I stood up and offered my hand. “Well come on, princess,” I teased, pulling him to his feet as he laughed over that.

We finished our practice, sweaty and out of breath and also feeling pretty good about where we were both at. He thanked me so sweetly for helping him out and I could only hope he was feeling more confident than before. He kept me company as I locked the place up and even dared to kiss me on the cheek after walking me out of the studio.

We took our good-byes and as I rode the tube across town, the feeling of his lips against my skin lingered long after we had parted ways. I picked up Clara from my mum’s and after making dinner, helping with homework, taking Troy for his evening walkies, and getting my daughter tucked in for the night, I finally phoned Madison, who was simply dying for an update. 

“I can’t take it anymore! You have to tell me how last night went!” she squealed without even a hello when she picked up the call. Wednesdays were always a day off for her, so we hadn’t run into each other at the studio or I’m sure I would have already had to recount all of this.

“Well, it’s been a hell of a night and day, I can tell you that,” I laughed softly. “Last night was… well, drinks were fine, I was enjoying the night but I got way too drunk and ended up at Markus’ flat.”

“Oh no,” Mads replied sympathetically, knowing where this was going. Look, I can only apologize so much for having a predictable history.

“So yeah, drinks turned very quickly into sex,” I sighed, having almost forgotten how bad that had made me feel after Taron had managed to lift my spirits.

“You don’t sound pleased. Was he just bad?” she asked.

“I couldn’t tell you. I barely remember it. I mean, he didn’t really do anything wrong, because I didn’t tell him no. But when I woke up the next morning I just felt used and slutty, to be honest.”

“Oh I’m so sorry, Juliette. That’s not how it should have gone down,” Madison replied, still with that tone of sympathy in her voice.

“No, but again, Markus didn’t really do anything wrong. He was sweet enough, and he looked handsome. But I don’t really think my heart is in it, at least not yet.”

“So are you going to see him again?” she asked.

“Maybe? I don’t know. I feel like I should at least see how it goes without the aid of alcohol, you know? Give him a fair chance before I reject him totally. And anyways, I still have to dance with him.”

“That’s not really a good reason to date someone, you know,” she said, and I could practically visualize the concerned look on her face.

“Yeah, well, maybe it’s what I deserve,” I replied, a bit tritely. “I mean, I did make out with Taron when he came over for his practice today,” I continued, barrelling right through Madison’s attempts to say I didn’t deserve to feel bad or something.

There was complete silence on the other end for a moment. “You what?” she practically screamed, and I tried to explain exactly what had happened, though it was a bit difficult without the full context of the conversation we had been having.

“So… We have plans, for dinner on Saturday. Like a real dinner, I think. He wants to pick me up and everything. Which I’m absolutely thrilled about but how do you go from having sex with one guy and making out with another in 12 hours and feel not like a complete whore?”

“If that makes you a whore then I have no idea what I am,” Madison said, making me roll my eyes.

“That one time you were invited to an orgy and you thought it was a costume party doesn’t count, Mads. You’re the most innocent woman I know.”

“Doesn’t excuse my one night of debauchery,” she giggled.

“Oh please. I think worse things on a daily basis then that,” I joked back. “You saw some naked bits and then called me drunk and blubbering about it to pick you up,” I laughed.

“Well anyway, the point is, doing one ….ahhh person, and wanting someone else, isn’t exactly a sin. And you’re not technically in an exclusive relationship with either. There were no promises broken here. I told you to explore your options and you are, so I think you should be proud of yourself really, because I am.”

“Thanks, Mads. You always know how to make me feel better,” I smiled.

“You overthink everything. I love you, but it’s true. Just have some fun. I mean, it’s not every girl who gets to say Taron Egerton took her to dinner,” she giggled along with me.

“Holy shit, right?” I grinned.

“And I will forever get to say I told you so,” Madison laughed.

“Yeah, yeah,” I groaned at that. We talked a little bit longer but it had gotten late and I was completely exhausted by that point.

I got myself ready for bed quickly, trying to not hold onto any guilt or shame. As Madison had said, I’d made no relationship promises to either man. Markus was attractive and lovely, sure, but there was something about Taron that made me stupid in the best way. He was incredibly handsome but I think it had more to do with the way he made me feel like the most important person in the room. When they talked about having that “IT” factor, well, Taron had it in spades. And I was head over ballet heels for him. I knew it, and not denying it anymore was its own kind of relief.

How he would react about my daughter, though, that would be the real test. I would never be able to consider someone who didn’t want to fully engage with her in their lives. I would eventually have to make the best choice for my daughter as much as myself, and this tempered just a little of my excitement over Saturday. I eventually managed to slip off to sleep, wondering how the next couple days of rehearsals, with me caught squarely between Markus and Taron, would go.

Keep reading in Chapter 4 HERE.

[deepdisireslonging]

Cappuccino, Right?

The reader can’t muster up the courage to talk to the cute barista until she has a really bad day. Technically, he talks to her first, and just when she needs him the most.

Pairing: Barista!Sami Zayn x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: fluff, terrible bosses

Word Count: ~980

Note: I thought I’d try my hand at Sami Zayn. Please let me know how I did with comments, likes, and reblogs! My tag lists are open if you like my work, and so are my requests if there’s a fic/smut-less character out there you would like to read. Please enjoy!

It was a pleasant little coffee shop; the “Espresso Express” was equipped with anything a busy business person could wish for in the morning. It had a small display of pastries, its own roasting machine in the back, and a plethora of espresso machines. The most common delight of patrons was the slightly curved bar that ran most of the length of the shop. The standing bar made service extra quick and fun due to its closeness to the coffee action.

As for you, the main attraction was a certain barista with bright red hair and a smile brighter than the sun.

His deft hands had small cups and plates in front of patrons with a flip. Espresso was measured and served with the timing of a master. And empty cups were left on the counter no longer than ten seconds. At the same time, you had almost seen him tip a tray of drinks with the same hands if he was telling a quick story. They seemed to flip about on their own, making you giggle as one of his fellow baristas ducked to avoid a concussion.

If you were braver, you would talk to him. Unfortunately, you had no such courage. Or luck. You had mustered up the strength to talk to him once with the help of your friends one Friday morning but he had completely missed you. His eyes glanced right over you to the spillage further down the bar and he rushed to it. Instead, you were served by the dark-haired barista; handsome too, but intense and always fawned over by the college women between classes.

It took you another whole month to find that strength again.

“What can I get for you today?”

“A cap… a cappuccino. Please.”

“Coming right up.”

And that was it. You paid by the pastry display to the other barista and left quickly. But at least it was a start, right?

Then disaster struck.

You should have sucked it up and asked your roommate for a ride. Called a taxi. Or put off the presentation for next week. Instead, you left the apartment without checking the weather and carried your presentation notes in a simple non-water-proof manila folder. Between the two blocks between your apartment building and the coffee shop, with two more to your office, you went from enjoying the sunniest day in history to arriving soaked and distraught.

The folder landed with a loud plop on the back corner table. It soon spread its puddle outwards till it was dripping on the floor. Your equally wet scarf did nothing to help the mess. With your head resting on your hands you didn’t notice you had a visitor. Your shoulders tensed as his voice cut through your personal thundercloud.

“What can I get for you today?”

You peaked through your fingers into his bright blue eyes, all the brighter framed in his red curls.

“A puddle to swallow me,” you muttered under your breath.

He chuckled. “If you don’t mind me saying so… it seems the puddle already spit you back out.” He nodded towards your folder. “Is there anything I can do to help with that?

“Not really unless you’ve got a hairdryer in the back.” You let your head sink all the way to the table as he shook his head.

“I don’t think we do. But we do have a fridge that gets hot on top. Do you want to try drying them that way? How much time do you have till your presentation?”

You checked your still-dry phone. (Yay Autobox.) “An hour and a half. If I had waited till my usual time instead of trying to be early I could have known to carry an umbrella.”

“Your boss can’t hold it against you for trying. Let me take those and get you a coffee. Cappuccino, right?” You barely had time to respond before he was off like a shot. He spun in place after a few steps. “Name’s Sami by the way.”

“Y/N.”

Half an hour later your presentation was dry but you hadn’t moved. You giggled as Sami’s hands flew through the air.

“The jazzy version of ‘Moves Like Jagger’ is definitely in my top five oddest songs I’ve heard in the shop.”

“Was it on someone’s phone?”

“No, just on some YouTube playlist one of us found. The rest was fine, just your usual jazz mix we play. This one had slowed down pop and classic rock songs mixed in. Your turn. Top three oddest phone calls to your office?”

You took a breath to tell the story, but it came out in a squeak as your phone buzzed. A tap of your thumb later you cursed under your breath. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?” Sami looked at you. “Did they move up the meeting? I didn’t make you late did I?”

“No, my boss is just…” You held up your phone in front of your face and read, “Hey, Y/N. Sorry I’m telling you late, but we decided last night to move this morning’s presentation to next week. Feel free to take today off, I’ll see you Monday.” Sami frowned as you tsk-ed. “Asshole.”

“Agreed. But do you know what else that means?”

“What?”

“That you can come out to lunch with me. That is… is… if you want to. I thought since we’d already had the coffee then a lunch date would be next. Unless you just want lunch. Doesn’t have to be a date; doesn’t have to be today. There’s a good place I like a few blocks away but I have a gift card and I could give it to you if you want to go by yourself sometime. If you want.” His cheeks had tinted a rosy pink and you held your cup close to you as his hands stopped mid-flight to clasp tightly in his lap.

“I… I’d like that.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Cool. Um… which part?”

“Mhmm!”

***

Masterlist

Tag Lists

Forever: @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @thiickreigns @zuni21798

WWE: @that-wwe-image-blog @unabashedwwesmut @wwe-smutfics @roman-reigns-princess @sabrinaoctaviagunner

Sami Zayn: @kazuchika @wrestlingnoob @lunaticbun @theworldiscolorful  @justrae9903  @xfirespritex @kathleenjimenez @secretagentfangirl 

[maggieisalarrie]

Titles: W

walk my days on a wire by sunshiner (39k)

Harry hums, staring at his hands in his lap, and Louis can still feel their smoothness, how solid they were in between his own. “Do you think it’s the same for us? Are we here only because of the likeliness of our jobs? Of our lives?” “We’re here because we have inventive managers,” Louis says, giving Harry’s leg a little nudge with his knee, but all that’s going around in his head is, I think I'd be in the same spot in every possible universe.

or, when actor Louis Tomlinson used to daydream about dating Harry Styles, this is not what he had in mind.

Want You More Than A by TheCellarDoor (78k)

Falling in love with your step-brother’s best friend is a disaster enough. When he happens to be the boy everyone loves and you’re a nerd who wears sweater vests and cries during rom-coms, it takes it to a whole new level.

we are honey and the bee by soleilouis (41k)

It isn’t his fault though, it is entirely the fault of whichever gods thought it would be a good idea to taunt Louis by dangling a curly haired boy in front of him with a mouth that can’t possibly be as soft as it looks, a mouth that requires further inspection with Louis’ own mouth. Unfortunately, Louis absolutely cannot do that, because it would go against all rules and guidelines in the Golden Handbook of Nanny and Employee Etiquette that he’s pretty sure exists.

au where harry plays rugby at uni, louis needs to hire a nanny, and life is one big cliche.

we can get there (we can do it if we try) by zouisclimax (28k)

He’s a bit shocked when he sees the person in front of him. Because, it’s a man? Which, yeah, he guesses that really isn’t that weird, but. Just, what? Of all the nannies Louis has ever met he has never once encountered a male. And really, of all the males he has encountered, he has never encountered one so pretty. Okay, there’s Zayn, but, he doesn’t count.

[or, the one where Louis's a dad in desperate need for a new nanny. Harry's perfect for the job]

we can take the long way home by eleadore (27k)

“Fertile,” Louis says, and then laughs because it sounds stupid to say out loud. He hasn’t ever really thought of himself in those terms. Baby-making terms. It’s just one of those things his body can do, like exercise, or go without tea. Doesn’t mean he will.

or,

The band takes a break. Harry and Louis come together.

we fool ourselves so much we could do it for a living by veterization (24k)

Louis has been King of Pranks in his dorm for two years, and a random freshman named Harry Styles isn't going to take that title from him. It is on.

We Made These Memories for Ourselves by supernope (17k)

Breath held, Harry squints his eyes open and focuses on the first stick. A blue line. Harry breathes out an unsteady breath. He’s pretty sure he read that one blue line is a negative, but he fishes the box from the bottom of the pile just to make sure.

“Negative,” he confirms, voice echoing around the small room. “Next.”

Now that he’s feeling a little less shaky, he scans the rest of the tests at once, is met with a headache-inducing mixture of pink plus signs and blue double lines. His heart rate picks up until it’s pounding triple-time in the base of his throat and the pit of his stomach, thundering in his ears and throbbing in his temples. He flips over the rest of the boxes slowly, but he knows what they’re going to say before he even looks.

[or, Louis is a footballer, Harry owns a bakery, and they're having a baby.]

we were just like glue by togetherwecouldbealright (24k)

Louis works in a library where his own books sit on the shelves. Also, there may or may not be a Harry Styles involved and he may or may not be Louis' muse. Not that Louis is admitting to anything.

Wear It Like A Crown by zarah5 (141k)

AU. As part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in Buckingham Palace, Louis expects Prince Harry to be a lot of things—most notably a royally spoilt brat. Never mind that the very same Prince Harry used to star in quite a number of Louis' teenage fantasies.

we can meet again somewhere by LSFOREVER (9k)

“I don't even know who he is, Niall! I just want to know his name or some - ”

“So why do you keep fucking blushing while talking about him!”

“You know what, fuck off! I'm gonna find him myself!”

or, The morning after his party Harry wakes up naked on his bed, and there is a Polaroid photo of a stranger right beside him. Harry wants to know who is this tiny little boy that has soft fringe and a smile from heaven. He has endless hope.

we were just like glue by togetherwecouldbealright (24k)

Louis works in a library where his own books sit on the shelves. Also, there may or may not be a Harry Styles involved and he may or may not be Louis' muse. Not that Louis is admitting to anything.

We Will Find Our Way by supernope (10k)

Harry smiles at Louis, quick and easy, and says, “Well, since we’re in the same boat, we’ll just make our own Christmas. What do you say?” Louis tamps down on a bloom of warmth in his belly. He barely knows Harry past seeing him walk down the hall in just his skivvies - not that he’s complaining - but he’s being so lovely, smiling at him so hopefully, and, well. Louis doesn’t much fancy the idea of spending Christmas completely alone. Nodding, he reaches out and pokes Harry’s dimple, watches it flirt to life underneath his fingertip. “I say yes.”

AKA, Harry and Louis are uni students studying abroad in New York, stuck in the dorms together over Christmas.

We’ll Be Seamless by waytoomanypeopleintheaddisonlee (dinosaursmate) (52k)

Green reblogged an old photo of himself. It was from back in October, a Halloween special. A pulse shot all the way through Louis because this photo was his absolute favourite, and it had taken the rest of the year for him to wean himself off of it.

Green was on his knees, arms stretched out in front of him with his fingertips digging into the surface of his bed. He was wearing a pair of cat ears on his head, his curls falling forward. His back was arched, and in the foreground of the picture, Green’s bum was high in the air, a long, black cat tail sitting neatly between his cheeks. --- Louis spends all his spare time scrolling arty nude blogs on Tumblr but amongst them all, Green is his favourite.

With a whimper by kitundercover (133k)

The man grips his arm tightly. “You’re not going to say anything.” It’s not a question.

Louis shakes his head, his body twitching.

“Fine,” large green eyes survey him before letting go. “It’s cold. Take this. Wear it.”

Louis can’t help another flinch as the man’s long scarf is wrapped around his tender neck, it’s still warm. He touches the soft material. “Thank you.”

The man bears his teeth. “Don’t thank me. Don’t ever thank me.”

--

Dystopian AU. Louis has been alone for too long to remember how not to be, and Harry has too much to worry about to deal with a scrawny, wild, stranger.

With love comes strange currencies by mediaville (17k)

One day One Direction will be over and Louis won't be around Harry every waking moment. He'll be able to finally get some space, let their bond dissipate as it's bound to do, if they don't mess up again. He can move to Costa Rica and forget that Harry Styles popped his first knot inside him. Until then, he's going to have to deal with this.

or, They're Accidentally Mated and Dealing With It Rather Badly.

with nothing but your t-shirt on by crybaby (35k)

Louis knows that I’ve seen you fuck yourself with a vibrator should not be the first thing that comes to mind when he meets Harry Styles.

(Harry is a camboy and Louis has been an avid subscriber for a while before he finds out they attend the same university)

wrapped in light, in life, in love by tomorrows (19k)

It should be embarrassing — it is a bit embarrassing, actually, because he can feel Lila watching over him like a hawk, but Louis’ got a palm on his thigh and there’s a cherry red lollipop in his hand and Harry feels so bloody dizzy with butterflies. He brings the lollipop to his mouth and sure enough, the sweet cherry flavor feels more therapeutic than anything, like it’s made from warm hugs and naps by the fireplace. He’s too busy falling in love all over again to be embarrassed.

“S’good, innit?”

Harry nods his head. He feels like a child, but it’s okay because Louis is there and he’s staring right at him, blue eyes consumed by Harry before him. Being at the center of Louis’ attention is just as overwhelming as Harry remembers it being fifteen years ago.

Of all the things to happen while taking care of his niece for a month, falling in love with his boyhood crush all over again is probably the highlight of Harry’s autumn.

Well. That, and getting pregnant.

Please let me know if I can add anything!

Last edited: September 6, 2017

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