#i indulged a little in the first chapter but BOY OH BOY WAIT UNTIL SOME LATER SCENES

[lov1ngreid]

BOYS LIKE YOU | 3

(pairings): high school!spencer + cheerleader!reader

(warnings): mentions of blood

(word count): 3.2k

(author’s note): this chapter’s a little short but i wanted to have something out for you guys! the next chapter will be the last (thank god) also not proofread so bare with me, but merry christmas!

listen to what i did when i wrote this! ➘

“A practice date?” Gianna spits, confusion painting her pretty tanned face while she shoves her fork into whatever cafeteria food was served that day “come. on.” she groans only to shoot another displeased look in your direction, you only decide look up at her from your textbook when she began to get just a little too loud. Silencing her with your eyes, she only rolls hers in response before moving her attention back to her food.

“I didn’t know what to say!” you whisper-yell scanning your surroundings quickly to make sure nobody other than her could hear your conversation, she quickly raises one eyebrow, completely unsatisfied with your answer “and you can’t talk” you shoot back at her raising your right hand to point your gel pen at her face.

“you’re the one who called her over in the first place! I was just gonna let him wander around until he got to nervous and gave up” quickly, you take an opportunity to glance down the end of the cafeteria table where Sadie sat, completely indulged in her own conversation.

Gianna purses her lips thinking, before deciding to hold her hands up in defence “to be honest I kinda wanted to see your reaction” she chuckles to herself for a moment earning a slap to the wrist from you, you shake your head for a moment, absolutely not impressed by her answer.

You both sit in comfortable silence for a moment, your pen quickly jotting down notes from your history textbook while your cold cafeteria lunch sat beside you “If you’re not gonna eat it can I?” Gianna asks already grabbing your red tray from your side before you could answer, she knew your answer before you said it.

Nodding quickly before turning your attention back to your notes, the cafeteria chatter fills your ears causing you to zone into your notes “uh oh” you hear Gianna’s half full mouth admit pulling your attention from your notes onto her. Eyes wide, her stare is set down the left side of the long cafeteria table and you can’t help but follow her gaze down the rows of blue and white cheerleading uniforms before they land on one in particular.

Sadie Keller, her dark cherry red hair and perfect manicured nails, perfect manicured nails that happened to be in someone’s hair.

Spencer Reid’s hair.

You felt like your eyes were quite literally bludging out of your head from how hard you were staring, Sadie sat next to him giggling as she raked her hands through his pretty brown hair, dragging them down his arms while they chatted to other girls on the team.

“He’s cute right” Ivy leans into you, her eyes also glued on the two at the end of the table “I didn’t even know he went here” she adds tilting her head a little causing her long blonde ponytail to tilt with her.

“You called him a freak nerd last period” Gianna mentions from across the table “to his face” she adds a disgusted look filling her face as she waited for Ivy’s response.

“Oh” she deadpans looking between Gianna and then Spencer again “was that him?” She asks obliviously cocking her head once more, Gianna nods her head in response “oh well he’s cute” she shrugs completely unaware of her insensitivity while she goes back to whatever conversation she was indulging in prior.

You felt every emotion bubble in the pit of your stomach, you had to look away before you screamed in her face. The worst part was you couldn’t even blame Sadie, Spencer was cute and funny, and incredibly smart, and if you knew he was Sadie’s tutor maybe you’d make up some sort of terrible lie about him so she wouldn’t like him. Which in hindsight would be horrible of you, but maybe it would’ve prevented having to see such a disgusting scene play out in front of you.

Although every possible emotion swirled inside of you, you didn’t know which one would win until you felt your eyes stinging a little while they brimmed with soft salty tears, mortified you were about to cry in front of the whole cheer team you slammed your books shut earning a few looks from your peers around you, gathering them to your chest before rushing from the cafeteria to the quiet unoccupied hallway.

Small sniffles followed your footsteps as you turned the corner to find your locker clicking it open angrily sliding your books into their respective spots. Pathetic was the only word you could describe yourself in that moment, standing at your locker alone, crying over a boy who had absolutely no interest in you.

The silence in the hallway is calming, only the distance sound of cafeteria chatter and quiet squeaky footsteps from a passerby.

“Hi” a male voice chirps snapping you from your Spencer induced brain fog, almost knocking the wind from you in shock.

“Oh my god- you scared me” you breath grasping your chest a little, your eyes widen at your state, turning away from him a little to quickly wipe the tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“I’m sorry” he laughs a little, his brows furrowing as you turn around “I just wanted to ask if we were still practice dating tonight?” a concerned look painted across his face as you turned back, he noticed your eyes immediately.

Arguably his favourite thing about you.

“Are you okay?” He questions noticing your nose red from rubbing it, and the small sniffles escaping while he talked, he could tell you were crying, he just didn’t know why.

“I’m fine” you mumble moving your books around not daring to make eye contact with him, instead facing your locker while you conversed “And we might have to reschedule, I’m really busy-” you continue.

“Please?” he whispers, eyes widening under his glasses leaning in a little closer in attempts for you to look at him, your actions freeze at his words huffing in defeat, you turn to face him for a moment.

Only then he got a clear view of your face, your pretty eyes covered with a thin layer of glassy tears that were on the brink of falling he could almost see his reflection in them, your long thick eyelashes darkened with your tears “Fine” you nod, your eyes dropping down to avoid his stare, frankly it was making you a little nervous.

It was like your next movements where a calculated blur, grabbing your textbooks before slamming your locker shut to brush past Spencer without another word. Sniffles following as you made your way down the hall, silently cursing yourself out on the way to your next class.

You didn’t know why seeing him with someone else had worked you up so much, and you couldn’t wrap your head around it. You knew he didn’t like you, if you hadn’t been so desperate to hang out with him you wouldn’t have picked up the stupid letter, you brought this on yourself.

But Spencer’s heart did the thing again when he watched you walk down the hall.

You spent what felt like the whole of fifth period stealing glances at Spencer, which was absolutely not discrete since you always sat in front of him and you could only check the clock that hung on the back of the classroom wall so many times before it became suspicious, if it wasn’t already.

You absolutely could not recall a singular word your teacher had spoken about, your mind completely fogged with thoughts of Sadie’s stupid hair and stupid nails dragging across Spencer’s locks or the way she dragged his glasses off his face which made you glad you didn’t eat lunch.

So when Mrs. Abernathy claimed you’d be splitting off into partners, you wanted to grab Spencer’s arm and yank him away from Sadie but you knew you couldn’t. You had to settle for Ethan not a bad choice in hindsight he was the smartest hockey player so you knew he’d at least would’ve been paying attention unlike you.

But you weren’t the only one who’s mind was absolutely full with thoughts of another, Spencer’s head felt sore at how much he was thinking of you, his heart ached at the sight of you upset, and as much as he hated it he couldn’t control it.

“I’m excited for this weekend” the pretty red head giggled under her large plastic goggles, Spencer’s head turned at the sound of her voice, snapping him from his gaze on you, he watched as she twisted the gas valve attached to the bunsen burner.

“What?” Spencer mutters in response as she lifts her head to meet his, his eyes widen in realisation “oh!” He rushes, absolutely mortified he had forgotten “ice skating, of course! I’m so excited” he scrambles quickly as her face began to drop, it quickly picks up at his words before she continues to quickly strike a match.

His eyes wander from the pages of his poorly written notebook, to the silver work bench across from him. The work bench that you were at, your teary eyes replaced by being slightly scrunched in laughter at whatever the curly haired brunette boy had muttered in your ear. Spencer’s eyes furrowed at the sight.

What could he possibly be saying to make you laugh?

“They’re cute right?” Sadie chirps holding a clear glass beaker while she swirled the blue liquid with a stirring stick, snapped out of his gaze once again, his face painted with confusion, he turns to face Sadie for a moment without a word, she seems equally confused at his silence before placing the beaker down for a moment “Ethan and y/n?” she adds in hopes of him understanding.

“Are they dating?” He rushes quickly grabbing the beaker from the bench before swirling the liquid himself.

Sadie giggles a little before responding “No I don’t think so” going back to write a little in her note book “She doesn’t really date, doesn’t stop guys from trying” she goes on to say, focused on her neatly lined notes, failing to notice Spencer’s usually pale pink knuckles suddenly turning white with how hard he was gripping the glass beaker.

“Okay! So we just have to add- Spencer!” Sadie shrieks as the glass shatters in his hand spilling the liquid all over the both of them, shards of glass piercing into his skin. He’s shocked at her reaction at first, completely unknowing of the mess he had made all over the bench, and her cheerleading uniform. “I just steam pressed this” Sadie claims eyes glued onto her now, blue stained uniform.

“Mr. Reid” Mrs.Abernathy states only the tiniest bit of concern lacing her statement “Please go to the nurse you’re bleeding all over my bench” she bores again, Spencer’s state only earns a giggle from you, concerned of course, but his deer in headlights stance and absolute silence, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“And Ms. Y/L/N, since you think it’s so funny you can take him” your quiet laughing stops at her stern words.

“But-”

“Now” She adds with not an ounce of sympathy dripping from her words, your eyes snap from her to Spencer who stood picking pieces of glass from his hand, you physically cringed at the sight before a groan escapes your lips. His eyes meet yours for a moment, your eyes rolling seemed to be the only appropriate response before you nod your head towards the door ushering him to follow you.

The silence in the unoccupied hallways was deafening, only the sounds of your shoes squeaking filling the air, you could hear Spencer whimpering a tiny bit behind you, you swore it took your whole strength not to turn around and tell him to shut-up, but you knew whatever you were angry at wasn’t technically his fault.

Your shoes squeaked a little louder as you both took a sharp turn into the nurses office, almost immediately greeted with a high pitched “oh my gosh!” The nurse squeaked as she saw the state of Spencer holding his bloody glass punctured hand “sit down!” She adds patting the examination table beckoning for Spencer, he responds with a weak nod before complying.

You weren’t sure on whether you were meant to leave or stay with Spencer in this situation, of course a part of you wanted to stay with him, comfort him until he felt better. But another part of you wanted to leave him there, claiming that if Sadie cared enough she’d be here instead of you.

But you stayed.

“y/n can you wrap it up for me I just have to grab something from across the hall” the nurse rushed holding a plastic bag with shards of red stained class, she barely looked up for an answer from you before zipping the bag up and rushing for the door.

“But Kate-”

“Just do it” she calls out, her small frame already half way out the door before you could even protest, your eyes shift back to Spencer who sat slumped on the table while he meekly sent a smile in your direction.

Despite your resistance, you sighed a little before reaching towards the top shelf grabbing alcohol spray and bandages before moving to meet Spencer at the table “this is gonna hurt a little okay?” You mumble gently grabbing his skinny wrist, turning it so his injured hand faced you, you bit your lip in concentration as you lined up the alcohol to spray at his wounds.

He winced a little at the sting before nodding for you to continue, you couldn’t help but enjoy the small whimpers falling from his lips, you felt perverted for it, but you were sure anyone would agree. It also made you realise how big his hands were in comparison to yours, you wanted so badly to just be able to hold it, for it to touch you.

You looked up at his face for a moment, watching how he caught his bottom lip in his teeth, eyes focused on his hand in pain, that was enough to make you huff with a loss of breath.

Cleaning up his hand, you toss his bloody gauze into the bin quickly turning to face away from him to wash your hands “you call Nurse Abbott, Kate?” He mutters, frowning as he takes a look at the state of his hand.

You pause for a second, brows knitting at his question, you hadn’t even realised you had called her that it had become normal to you “yeah I don’t know I’m in here a lot” you mumble in response back turning around to grab a dressing “I get migraines sometimes so she lets me sit in here” you continue, lining up the dressing on the biggest cut on his hand.

You couldn’t help yourself but stare at the lines and creases in his hands while you tended to him, the way his veins popped when would accidentally clench at the stinging was enough for you to bite your lip in frustration.

“You still get those?” He adds finally looking up from his hand to you, his eyes zoning on your the way your pretty eyebrows furrowed in concentration, your long eyelashes and pretty pump lips, licking them every now and then.

“You remember” Mumbling you toss the dressing wrappers away not daring to meet Spencer’s eyes while doing so.

“Yeah they used to scare me” he laughs while your hand brushes over his, memories of times you had to lay in a quiet pitch black room ran through your mind, and the way you’d yell at him if he opened the door letting the light in. You always felt bad for yelling at him, you knew he probably just wanted to play Mario kart so you’d bake him cupcakes to make up for it.

“Are we still fake dating tonight?” He adds, leaning his head down a little for his eyes to meet yours. You cringe a little at his wording cause selfishly, you didn’t want it to be a fake date, you wanted to real date him and you wanted him to real date you.

“Spence” you mutter no louder than a whisper, you don’t meet his eyes, instead focused on finishing up his hand “your hand” you mention looking up at him for a split second to look back down at his hand, coloured white with the bandage wrapped around it.

“It’s okay” he rushed “It doesn’t hurt that bad” now you didn’t buy that for a second, you surprised he didn’t need stitches and he was a terrible liar “I can hold onto the railing.. please” you were strong, you could admit that but the pleading along with his big round eyes beaming up at you almost twinkling under the fluorescent lighting.

“Maybe” you breathe, surprised you didn’t immediately say yes the minute he started begging.

He seemed momentarily satisfied with your answer “done” you whisper smiling back up at him, only you realised he was already looking at you, not just looking at you, but looking into you. His eyes exploring the depths of yours, like he was desperate to see behind them. And honestly he was, he wanted to be in your brain at this very moment, wanted to know what you were thinking, how you were feeling but he couldn’t tell, only noting the quick rise and fall of your chest and your glistening bottom lip as you licked it, you were nervous.

His eyes moved from your eyes, along your jawline and all across your face, counting every beauty spot every freckle, you both scanned each others faces, searching for something you couldn’t even answer only the sounds of your breathes mixing in with each other filling the what felt like warm air.

Your eyes both meet each others for a second, brows furrowing in curiosity, your eyes faulting from his eyes to his lips, disparity fuelling in the pit of your stomach.

“Okay!” A voice booms from the corridor adjacent to the door “oh! y/n I didn’t think you’d wrap it so quickly” she adds looking up from her clipboard at the both of you.

You must’ve looked like a deer in headlights, both pulled from the depths of your gaze on each other, you’d never seen him look at you like that, and honestly you didn’t even know what it meant. You’d never seen him look at anyone like that.

“Sorry” you mumble a little sheepishly, dropping Spencer’s hand into his lap which you were unaware you were still holding, embarrassed that you had pretty much eye fucked him “I’ll go now” nodding at Kate before attempting to make your way to the doorway, but not without Spencer’s uninjured hand grabbing your wrist.

“Tonight?” He queried again tilting his head to the side like a puppy dog, his big brown eyes shining in your direction which absolutely did not help your case.

Your mind fights it for a little, there was no way he should be out ice skating with an injured hand, and you also didn’t really want to go after seeing the way him and Sadie were getting to know each other in the cafeteria. But despite all that, you selfishly just wanted to feel like you were the one on a date with him.

“Please” he whispers his lanky hand still gently gripping your wrist.

Yep that’ll do it

“Fine” you groan, defeat dripping from your words rolling your eyes in annoyance, false annoyance.

It was hard to act annoyed when the biggest grin grew on his pretty little face, you would’ve almost forgotten that his hand had pretty much been mauled by a glass beaker.

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[voraciousvore]

The Half-Blood Giant (15/51)

Chapter 15: Interview

Ray only had to traverse a few blocks to reach the school. As he lumbered along, he made conversation with Pedro. “I’m so sorry about kicking you with my shoe. I should’ve been paying better attention,” Ray admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“It’s okay,” Pedro replied softly. As he continued to recline in Ray’s hand, gazing up at the handsome giant, he thought to himself it was probably the best thing that could’ve happened to him. 

“Why are you going to the school anyways? You said you have an interview?” 

“Yeah. A job interview, with the principal of the school. They’re seeking to hire a human counselor.” 

“Oh, so with Mr. Henderson?” 

“Yeah!” Pedro responded with surprise. “You know him?” 

“Yes,” Ray confirmed. “He’s a very nice man. To be honest, I’m surprised he didn’t offer to meet you at the wall. He’s typically considerate of other’s needs.” 

“Oh, he did,” Pedro confessed sheepishly, fiddling with his hands. “I turned him down. I thought... I’d be showing weakness if I accepted. I thought I could make it myself. Boy, was I wrong.” 

Ray couldn’t help but chuckle, sending a bass rumble through Pedro’s body that made him swoon. “You’re a brave little thing, aren’t you? I bet you’ve probably never seen a giant for real until now, huh?” 

Pedro chortled. “You got me. If I had known just how BIG everything was, I might have taken a different approach. But hey—I got to meet you! So, I’m glad things worked out like they did.” He beamed idiotically, completely lovestruck. He couldn’t stop himself. Cupid’s arrow had shot through the mushy beating core of his heart. 

Pedro’s obvious infatuation didn’t escape Ray. He wasn’t sure what to think. He tilted his head slightly, examining the human in his hand. He was cute. Ray had a strange urge to pet him with his finger like a tiny animal, but he restrained himself. The man was so small, that perhaps he was misinterpreting the signals. Ray couldn’t see any reason why a little human would be interested in him, of all people. Sure, he knew a few giant and human couples, like Joey and Eren, but they were an anomaly. It wasn’t a normal reaction to be smitten, especially since this was Pedro’s first time meeting a giant. He was probably just very nervous and embarrassed, which would explain his odd mannerisms.  

Ray dismissed his earlier observations as hopeful fantasy. For some reason, he felt a mild disappointment, but he let it go. Now was not the time to entertain self-indulgent delusions. “Here we are,” he remarked to redirect his thoughts, pushing open the big iron gate to the school grounds. Pedro sat up in his hands and surveyed the area with undisguised awe. Ray watched him with an amused smirk. He headed toward Milton’s office. Since class was in session, the hallways were empty. Pedro peeked into the classrooms as Ray passed by, but from his vantage point he couldn’t see the human desks. He could only see giant students, easily large enough to grab him up in their hands. Anxiety wormed its way into his psyche. Would he be able to handle working here? 

The door to Milton’s office was closed, so Ray knocked. “Uh, come in!” Milton called. Ray stepped inside and changed colors, blanching and reddening in a mess of emotions. Sitting across from the principal was Chester, along with Jackie, the unfortunate human who had ended up inside his stomach earlier that day. Ray was abruptly overcome with nausea and humiliation. He hastily entered the room and dropped off Pedro on the desk. He hated to leave so brusquely, but he couldn’t stand the pressure. He knew Milton would take good care of Pedro, so he didn’t need to worry about him. “See ya,” he mumbled to excuse himself as he rushed out the door, sweating hard. 

“Wait, Ray!” Milton called, but he was gone. “What was that all about?” Jackie and Chester exchanged knowing glances and giggled to each other. Now that Jackie was safe, they could find humor in the situation. Milton parted his lips, ready to ask for an explanation, when his eyes drifted downward to Pedro. The poor man was sitting on the gigantic desk, bewildered to be suddenly abandoned in front of two giants towering over him. 

“Oh, you must be Pedro. I’m Principal Henderson,” Milton introduced himself genially, intertwining his hands on the surface of the desk. Pedro nodded dumbly, craning his neck back to look up into the giant’s compassionate face far above. He felt dizzy and overwhelmed at the height of the man, as if he were conversing with a tall, multi-storied building. Behind him, Chester leaned forward over the desk, inhaling the new human’s scent with interest. He imagined the human would taste sweet, like chocolate, judging by his fragrance. He salivated, licking his lips, and a drop of spittle landed on the surface of the desk, making Pedro flinch. Milton gave Chester a stern look and he backed off, grinning apologetically. He scooted his chair back and nibbled on Jackie with his lips instead, massaging her in his hand as she returned his affection. 

Ignoring the display behind Pedro, Milton began the interview. “So, Pedro, do you think you’ll be able to handle working on the giant side of town? I know it’s not easy for a human. We’ve had this position available for a while, and I think you’re the first applicant who’s gotten this far without backing out.” 

“Y-yes, I think so,” Pedro confirmed. He coughed, and tried to exude more confidence than he was feeling. “I can handle this. And I think I’m a good fit for the job. I have some experience working with children, in my previous position as a social worker. I have the skills necessary.” 

“That’s great!” Milton replied with a comforting smile. “Basically, we just need a point of contact for the human students to go to, if they need help.  Someone that can check in on each student periodically, make sure they are doing okay. Somebody they would feel comfortable talking to, who is... approachable.” He sighed, creating a big gust of wind. “I do my best, but... I am still a giant. I’m not always the most accessible to a new student when I’m the big guy on campus, both in a bureaucratic sense and when I’m literally hundreds of times their physical size. That’s where you come in.” 

Pedro leapt to his feet and nodded, eyes fiery with passion. “I’ll be your man, sir!” 

“Excellent!” Milton answered. “Now, in terms of accommodations... currently, we don’t provide housing for staff. I suppose if you want, you could stay in the boy's dormitory...” 

“Ugh... I think I’ll pass on that,” Pedro said. “I can just... commute. I’ll figure something out.” He paled slightly, remembering his prior adventure on the way to the school. What was he getting himself into? 

“Alright.” Milton scrutinized him with an intense look. “Will you be okay? Would you like me to at least take you back to the wall for today?” 

“That would be appreciated, thanks.” The giant offered him his hand, easily bigger than his dining room table. Pedro gulped, hesitating. As much as he had fantasized about giants, being faced with one in real life was still very intimidating. His heart thumped hard against his ribs as he forced his body to move, climbing up into the colossal hand. He commended himself for being brave, even as his stomach lurched when the giant stood up. 

“Chester, can I trust you not to eat anyone while I’m gone?” Milton questioned seriously. Pedro blanched. 

“I’ll keep him in check,” Jackie assured him, nudging Chester in the chest with her elbow. Chester grinned mischievously. Milton shook his head with exasperation and walked out. Pedro remained silent for a while before he finally mustered up the courage to speak. 

“Is that something I need to worry about?” he piped up timidly. 

“Hm?” Milton had been lost in thought, worrying about having Chester at his house around Millie. 

“Being... eaten?” Pedro clarified with a shudder. 

“Oh no... that’s not too common around here. That giant I was speaking to is a bit of an exception. Most giants don’t eat people,” Milton explained. “Just... exercise caution when you’re around strangers.” He grimaced. Too many humans in his life had been menaced by cruel giants for him to forget such unpleasant matters. Pedro was unnerved by the implication that “most” giants didn’t eat people, not “all,” but he let it go for now. After all, there were humans living just fine on this side of the wall. 

Traveling by giant was much faster for Pedro than walking on his tiny human legs, so they reached the wall swiftly. Milton released him to the ground next to the door. Even when crouching down, he towered over the smaller man. “Don’t be afraid to reach out to me for help,” Milton said. “If you need me to come pick you up to take you to your new job, I don’t mind. It’s not significantly out of the way for me.” 

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” Pedro responded. “See you Monday then? Since today is Friday?” 

“Yes, we’ll get you onboarded Monday,” Milton confirmed with a gentle smile. “See you then!” He stood back up, his head reaching the heavens. Pedro gaped with amazement as he stared upwards. The gargantuan man gave a friendly wave as he ambled off, quaking the ground with every step, until his lofty figure disappeared beyond the curve of the horizon. Pedro stood for a moment, taking in the scenery of the giant landscape. The scope of everything was mind-boggling, yet he was excited to embark on a new adventure. His dreams were coming true. 

He retreated back to the human side, passing through the small door and the tunnel through the wall. As he left, he thought about the handsome giant cop who had helped him. Ray. Why had he left before Pedro even had a chance to ask him for his number? Pedro lamented his cruel fortune, to meet the giant only to have him vanish in a flash. He probably had no chance of ever seeing him again. Honestly, he probably had no chance with him romantically anyway. Pedro was likely chasing an impossible fantasy. Yet, Pedro was head over heels, and he wasn’t the type to give up easily. He would find a way. 

Meanwhile, as Milton returned to the school, he pulled out his cellphone and called his girlfriend Millie. She answered right away. “Milton! Why are you calling now? Is everything alright?” 

“Don’t worry, everything is fine, my love. Um... I’ve invited some guests over to stay the night, if that’s okay.” 

There was a long silence from the other end of the line. “Who? Giants?” Millie sounded scared. She had made a lot of progress with warming up to friendly giants like Joey, but strangers still made her skittish. Milton mentally chastised himself. He should’ve checked with her before giving permission to Chester. However, imagining Chester staying out all night without supervision, with no place to stay or food to eat to suppress his appetite, filled him with just as much concern. 

“Yes. A giant man named Chester, and his human wife Jackie. They’ve traveled a long way to meet me, for they wish to enroll their half-human son at my school. However, they have nowhere to sleep for the night, so I opened our home to them.” 

“I see. O-okay. It sounds safe enough.” Millie was uncertain, but she trusted her giant boyfriend to protect her. Milton omitted the fact that Chester went to Maneaters Anonymous with him: He didn’t want to burden Millie with unnecessary details that would frighten her more. He would keep her safe, without a doubt. 

“I’ll see you tonight, my little ray of sunshine,” Milton cooed, and hung up the phone. He returned to his office to find Chester still sitting in the same chair, obediently waiting for him. 

“See, I didn’t eat anyone,” Chester announced proudly. “Even if the smell of all these humans is... irresistible...” He slopped his tongue across his lips, drooling profusely. 

“Are all the giants like this, where you’re from?” Milton asked. Chester was always evasive when discussing his homeland, and Milton suspected he was hiding a secret, but he was considerate enough not to pry at the meetings. However, with Chester now in his personal office, and staying the night at his home, he felt it would be appropriate to ask more probing questions. 

“Yup,” Chester proclaimed. 

“Unfortunately,” Jackie sighed. 

“That must make things difficult for you, Jackie,” Milton remarked, redirecting his attention to include her in the conversation. 

“Yeah, though I have Chester here to shield me from harm. I am more worried about our son. I can always return to the human realm—erm, I mean, where the humans live. I can’t take our son with me, for he is far too large and will frighten others. So, his life among the giants has been very sheltered and isolated. It’s been causing quite a strain on all of us, lately, as he grows older and wants to spread his wings. I just want the best for him. I want him to be happy and have a bright future ahead of him.” 

“I see.” Milton pondered her words. “We’ll do the best we can, to foster a nurturing and welcoming environment for him here. I promise you that.” 

“Thank you,” Jackie replied. Just then, the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. The giant students, whooping and hollering, rushed out of their classrooms in a stampede, in anticipation for the weekend. The human students weren’t far behind, racing along the marked pathways on their bicycles. Chester watched the humans with an unfaltering predatory intensity that unsettled Milton. He sensed, under pressing circumstances, Chester could be a very dangerous giant to humans, even when he was trying so hard to be good. He hoped he wouldn’t regret bringing him around his precious little Millie. His anxiety was spiking as he considered what could go wrong. He wouldn’t be able to forgive Chester if he attempted to eat Millie. He’d kill Chester before he’d let that happen. 

He waited for the halls to clear out before guiding his guests out of his office, locking the door behind him for the weekend. He led the way, keeping a close eye on Chester as the other giant followed. Chester was calm, caressing Jackie with his thumb as he walked. He seemed to be doing okay with his cravings. Milton decided he would prepare a hearty meat dish for Chester as soon as he got home. He’d keep Millie close. Everything would be fine; he was worrying over nothing. Right? 

Chapter 16

Chapter 1

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing xiv.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 5, 690

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

hello!!!! we’re here at fourteen chapters omg ✨✨when i first started this series it was mostly self-indulgent and now there are people who actually enjoy reading it??🥺 it almost doesn’t seem real T.T 

thank you so much for the love and support!!! just so I don't give too much spoilers for this chap - I apologise to my fellow geminis for the potential slander 🤣 this is more of a self-drag lmaooo 

anyway, I hope you enjoy this chap!!!

“Ah. I’m getting allergies.” Yena sniffs, scrunching her nose.

You furrow your brows in concern, “Are you okay? Do you need any medicine?”

“It’s just the seasonal changes,” She brushes you off.

You nod in understanding, “I get it. My mom has horrible reactions towards pollen so—”

“I’m not allergic to flowers.” She blinks.

“Then what—?”

“It’s Gemini season. It’s like—literally the worst time of the year.” She blinks.

You gawk at her, taking a whole ten seconds to process her serious tone when she doesn’t waver under your scrutiny.

“I’m a Gemini,” You inform her slowly.

“I mean …” She shrugs all as you scowl at her, opting to throw the closest object you had, which was your favourite pen so you decide against it; simply shooting her the meanest glare you could possibly muster.

“Look, it’s not you,” She sighs, and you’re half-expecting her to finish with an it’s me to make you scoff, “It’s me.” And there you go. “I mean, it’s Gemini’s in general because they’re two-faced bitches who have the worst emotional attachment issues. Like they’re literally what the opposite of glue is. And they’re so over-analytical. How is it like psychoanalysing every person you meet only to hurt your own feelings and sulk about it?”

You blink.

“I mean it’s not you but if the shoe fits.” She says casually, plopping a grape into her mouth that you’re tempted to slap away.

“You’re so mean!” You pout indignantly.

She cackles, throwing her head back as you continue to sulk. You weren’t that bad. You just … you were risk-averse! You liked having the freedom to observe everyone and anyone and package them into tiny compartments in your head so you could understand them better. You weren’t … that Gemini.

“You’re so cute,” She coos pinching your cheeks. “No wonder Beef One and Beef Two like you so much.” She teases.

Your first reaction is to blush because you know who exactly she’s talking about, but you have more pressing matters, like—

“You have nicknames for them?” You ask, baffled.

“Hey, I wasn’t friends with many girls in high school. Don’t girls usually have nicknames for their crushes?” She says through a pout.

You stay expressionless as you try to gauge the level of seriousness you can extract from her tone.

You realise she’s dead serious.

“Yeah, but we’re in college,” You argue, scrunching your nose, “And sides’, it’s not like they’re strangers. We know them.”

She rolls her eyes, waving you off like you were the inconvenience here. Then she leans forward, her eyes twinkling as she takes a complete one-eighty that you try to adjust to.

“So … you Gemini hoe, what’s your plans?” She nudges you.

You raise a brow, “Did you just call me a—?”

“Plans, ___. Stay on track.” She scolds.

You sigh, still fond but you pretend to be annoyed. You really couldn’t get annoyed with Yena. After all, the more time you spend with her the more you realise how much life sucked before you had her in your life. You spent each moment learning more about her quirks and habits, her choice of words that made you giggle or laugh until you were crying.

And you realise that this is how she loves, a little rough but welcomed nonetheless.

“If you’re talking about my birthday then … not much. I’m probably stuck doing admin work for the college’s charity programme.” You shrug, stabbing a fork into your soiled salad.

Yena gapes at you, “Not much—excuse me? It’s your birthday! You’re turning twenty-five!” 

You look at her dryly, “I’ve been twenty-five since the year—”

She groans, “That’s not the same! You’re like—officially twenty-five. You’re literally hitting the mark for a quarter-life crisis. Isn’t that something to celebrate?” 

“Me going through an existential crisis at the end of my degree is not how I want to celebrate my birthday but okay,” You blink.

She rolls her eyes at your realism.

“That’s not the point. Point is, this is our first birthday together and I want it to be special.” She points out.

You snort, “What? Are we doubling my birthday as our monthsary or something?”

She shoves you with a brute force that has you snickering but she continues to pester you anyway.

“You’re so dumb. So smart, but so dumb,” She shakes her head, “You’re always studying or doing some form of work that requires the use of more than one brain cell. You deserve a break. Besides, you have two dudes to pick from on how you’d like to be wined and dined and—”

“Yena!” You whine.

“—it’ll be like an episode of the Bachelorette! But just with a super cool and smart best friend that’ll make the decision for you. It’s not your birthday. It’s ours.” She emphasises towards the end.

You stare at her for a long second, before the two of you are bursting into laughter at the absurdity of her statement. 

It was nice, just to laugh about things without having your heart feel so heavy. Even if it was a mild distraction, it was still wholly pleasant to be able to just talk about mindless things that didn’t require much mental gymnastics to navigate the conversation with.

“What are the two of you laughing about?” Taehyung and Jimin arrive at impeccable timing, sliding into the booth with their own packaged food. It’s very college-student-esque, a cute paper (because no plastic) container filled with an array of assortments.

“None of your XY chromosomes business.” Yena retorts.

Jimin blinks, “You are literally so hostile.”

“Then don’t give me a reason to be.” She sticks her tongue out petulantly.

You laugh, nudging her with your shoulder, “Be nice.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes but manages to keep a civil smile on his face. Always the more rational one between the two. 

“Anyway, Yena definitely isn’t going to answer me so, what’s up?” He turns to look at you.

You roll your eyes but it’s half-hearted, “She wants to celebrate my birthday like we’re on the Bachelorette.”

“Like you’re on the Bachelorette.” She corrects.

“Oh my God, our baby’s turning twenty-five!” Jimin coos at the reminder, pinching your cheeks as he coddles you. You scowl and weakly shove him away, even if you preen under the attention.

“I’m literally older than the both of you.” You huff.

Yena blinks, “There’s no way I’m the oldest person at this table.”

Taehyung furrows his brows, “Wait—how old are you?”

She sends him a scathing glare that has his arms raised up in defence.

“Jeez, okay. Don’t answer.”

“I’m going to answer because you told me not to.” She clips. “I’m twenty-seven.”

Jimin blinks, “No wonder you and Yoongi hyung are so alike.”

You almost miss it, but as Yena so eloquently pointed out, you were a sucker for psychoanalysing people (even if you didn’t want to admit it yet) that you notice the way she flushes ever so slightly as she scoffs.

“Him? How dare you compare me to that sorry excuse of a—!”

“Okay, everyone is beneath you. I’m sorry your highness.” Jimin rolls his eyes.

You make a note to ask her about it because you know for a fact that Yoongi ‘complains’ about Yena every hour he can. It’s almost as if he can’t go long enough without mentioning her.

You smile to yourself as you duck your head.

“Exactly,” She flips her hair over her shoulders before turning to face you. “Anyway, back to you—our baby.”

Taehyung nods, “Exactly, the baby.”

You scrunch your nose, “Don’t coddle me.”

He pats your head before cooing at you like he would to an actual baby, “But you’re just so cute. You’re too good for this shitty world. Too good for the likes of mere mortals like us.”

“Not me.” Yena blinks before gesturing to their bodies, “You.”

Jimin sticks his tongue out in retaliation as you sigh at their never-ending bickering.

Somehow … it felt right. You think it most of the times but you don’t know any other way to describe how it feels to be back with your friends, laughing, bickering and just appreciating their presence.

When you and Jungkook had your issues, it was like you made the conscious choice to avoid everyone and anyone as much as you could, and any interaction you had during that period was purely out of coincidences and not the intention. You remember actively avoiding Jimin and Taehyung because it felt too draining to pretend like you didn’t have a battle in your head. Even studying or spending time with Namjoon made you feel guilty, the thought of Jungkook lingering in your mind. Yena was there through it all, but even then you saw her as much as you did with any of your classmates you so happened to share a class with.

In fact, if it weren’t for Yena you’d probably have zero social interactions as a whole because she just knew. She somehow picked up on your internal conflicts but never outwardly shamed you or confronted you about it. All she did was be there for you, offering you her presence and you were grateful.

So, yeah. Things were better, but your heart was still at its core—confused. Your feelings for Jungkook didn’t disappear overnight and you knew that you were the one that asked for space.

You forgave him … you did, honestly. But there are things you can’t forget, and those are the things that you wished you could. The words he said in principle, was outright shitty. But the fact that it came from him only poked at every single one of your insecurities that you developed over the years.

You knew it wasn’t healthy to compare yourself to other women when they were living vastly different lives than you were, but it’s proven difficult when you’re forced to see these type of women every day, at college, in your community work or on the media. 

Believing Jungkook’s apparent feelings for you was harder because, well. Jungkook was Jungkook. He wasn’t just another guy, and despite his shortcomings, he had more merits than he’d let on and you knew that people saw that. It was also the fact that Jungkook had a charm that drew all types of people in. He was soft-spoken but passionate, and people loved a quiet achiever.

You … knew about the women. Way before Jennie and way before the thing between the two of you happened. Jimin and Taehyung would always update you about the new fling or girl he had tied to his hip just as he was in his final year in high school. You had to force a smile every single time they’d snicker and joke about how your Jungkook suddenly became a man overnight.

And you noticed the trend with the women he liked. They were … captivating. Beautiful wasn’t even enough to describe them because they looked like they could carry the world on their shoulders and spark immense change with just the movement of their lips. They were confident and charismatic, outgoing and just the right amount of flirty. You were anything but.

It sucked, majorly, because you spent years agonising over the fact that you were already coined with the older sister title in the group because of the way you acted—just a little more uptight than the average woman your age. You were quiet but loud in the right company; you didn’t like crowds, socialising or mingling around with people you didn’t know and based on your observations it seemed like that was the only thing that Jungkook’s been doing ever since he made it to senior year in high school, and even in the first years of college.

You don’t resent him, you think. You couldn’t blame him because you weren’t honest either. You consented, to all of the kisses and touches even if he hadn’t officially had sex with you. You wanted to, but you were terrified. Not at the prospect of penetration but at the prospect of not being enough and the fact that Jungkook was the only person you wanted to have sex with while he had options that were far more attractive and experienced than you were.

That’s why you needed time because at least you could get your shit together even if it was an uphill battle.

“Earth to ____?” Taehyung waves a hand in front of your face with a concerned expression.

You blink, snapping out of your daze as you offer a meek smile and an apology.

“We just asked you if you wanted a small get together at Tae’s and I’s place for your birthday?” Jimin asks.

“Really?” You beam. That was exactly what you preferred.

“Yeah, we know you don’t like clubs and stuff. Just a small and intimate gathering with all your best buds.” He grins.

You nod your head, but Yena beats you to a response.

“By best buds you mean the three friends she has, which is us and the two meatheads duelling for her affection.” She snorts.

You flush, “Y-Yena!”

Taehyung snickers at your embarrassment.

“It doesn’t help that both of them are literally the biggest dudes on the football team. It’s literally like watching King Kong and Godzilla getting into a fight for world domination.”

Jimin throws his back in laughter as you fold your arms across your chest at post at the way your friends are practically crying in laughter at the image. Jimin was clutching onto Taehyung for his dear life because if he didn’t then he’d fall off the chair.

“Stop,” You whine, “you guys are being mean.”

“Oh my God, you’re literally the only person on this earth that would take two people fighting for your attention as an offence.” Taehyung groans.

“I-It’s not that!” You deny exasperatedly, “I-It’s just … awkward …”

Jimin sighs with a small smile, patting your head.

“If it’s any consolation I think it’s offensive that Jungkook thinks he even has the right to breathe in—”

“Jimin!”

“Wow. It really is like King Kong and Godzilla.” Jimin whistles lowly, eyeing the scene before him with amusement lingering in his eyes.

“Do you think they’re gonna start slamming their chests soon or …?” Taehyung trails off in a whisper, leaning into Jimin so that the two other men wouldn’t notice.

“I can literally hear you.” You say dryly.

Jimin offers you a plastic smile, “You’re meant to hear us, babe. How about you try to tame them like Jane did with Tarzan?”

Jimin nearly shrieks when you shove him so fiercely that he topples over into Taehyung’s grasp as the second part of the duo only catches him in the process. 

You sigh, completely ignoring the way that Jimin’s muttering curses that were directed to you under his breath. Instead, you were transfixed on the scene before you—which specifically is Jungkook and Namjoon staring each other down through the mirror of the gym. You were lucky that it was just the five of you since Namjoon was able to use his captain privileges to book the gym because you had no idea how to explain the fact that two big-sized men were attempting to outdo each other in their circuit reps as if they were on a suicide mission.

“Listen, when I agreed to help you out with your sets I thought I was meant to help log it in for a report.” You exasperate, but the two men continue their manly lift-off as they huff and puff their exertion away.

“Trust me, you are helping. Being the motivation is more than—”

This time it’s Taehyung who faces your wrath as you thwack him upside the head. 

From where Jungkook and Namjoon were, Jungkook can only deliver death stares into the direction of his captain who returns it tenfold. He wasn’t even sure why they were doing this but something a flicked definitely switched in Jungkook when Namjoon (purposefully) revealed that you were helping out with something. At the gym. Supposedly alone.

Jungkook’s primitive side came out because the next thing Namjoon knew was that Jungkook managed to drag himself, and Jimin and Taehyung as a diversion. He still feels his chest swell with pride when recalling the scowl on Namjoon’s face when he entered the gym, all fake smiles and a pep in his step.

“____, could you help me spot?” Namjoon breathes, sitting up from whatever the hell he was doing with the barbell. You weren’t fixated with gym language and you weren’t even sure why he was asking you when there was an entire Jimin and Taehyung right next to you.

“Uh, okay sure—“

“Noona,” Jungkook calls.

You freeze.

“Jungkook … I thought we established that you don’t need to call me that anymore.” You raise an eyebrow.

You miss the obvious glare that Namjoon shoots his bitchass friend, as well as the snorts that leave Jimin and Taehyung’s mouth.

“Pay attention to me,” Jungkook pouts. Like, actually pouts. You somehow flush because he seemed so much like the younger version of Jungkook who used to always coddle you for attention.

“Okay but after I help—”

“Yeah. After she helps me.” Namjoon interjects, and you nearly jump at the way he’s suddenly behind you, more so—pressed against your back with his hands on your hips as he moves you aside to get to another piece of equipment.

Your breath hitches because while you weren’t exactly invested in Namjoon in the romantic sense, he was undeniably attractive and … big. You could salivate in private.

“Oh my God, do you see that?” Taehyung hisses in a hushed whisper.

“Hyung is petty,” Jimin gawks.

“This is Namjoon we’re talking about. Didn’t he steal all the umbrellas from your dorm because you ratted him out to the librarian when he broke a bookshelf?” Taehyung recalls.

Jimin pauses to retract his mind to that moment.

“He’s so petty and I’m living for it. Look at Kook’s face,” He snickers, nudging Taehyung with his shoulder.

Jungkook only can clench his jaw in return because he knew that you wouldn’t be a fan of him reaching out to strangle the shit out of Namjoon. But the older boy seems fine, if not pleased with how Jungkook’s fuming in his own spot.

“Let me just …” You cock a thumb to Namjoon, before releasing a breath of your own and going to help him with whatever he needed in the first place.

“Jimin can help him. I have a more pressing problem.” He complains.

You stop in your tracks before turning around, raising an eyebrow at Jungkook who finally sits up, still staring at you like you held all the solutions in the world.

“Literally wait for your turn,” Namjoon scowls.

“My arm hurts,” Jungkook says, raising his arm to show you. 

“I don’t … see anything?” You furrow your brows.

“Because my muscles hurt, Noona,” Jungkook emphasises with a flex of his bicep and you can feel yourself get hot in the way your eyes can’t stray away.

You’re momentarily distracted by the blatant display of muscle by Jungkook that you completely miss the way that Jimin and Taehyung are struggling to breathe because of how hard they’re stifling their laughter or the way that Namjoon is contemplating on throwing the nearest dumbbell into Jungkook’s direction.

You flush, “Okay, you know what? Wait here. Let me get the first aid kit.” You mumble, quickly scampering off to alleviate yourself from the situation.

The moment you leave the room, Namjoon takes two long strides until he reaches where Jungkook’s sat, before wrapping a hand around the arm that was supposedly hurt—and squeezes.

“Ow! What the fuck hyung?!” Jungkook shrieks.

“Don’t hyung me, you brat.” Namjoon seethes, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jungkook gapes, while Jimin and Taehyung watch in amusement.

“Me?! What’s wrong with you?” Jungkook retorts, equally as agitated, “Oh, _____, help spot me! Woe is me! Like she wouldn’t get crushed under you, you meathead!” 

“Like you’re any better,” Namjoon snaps, “Oh, Noona, pay attention to me. My arm hurts. You might as well have asked her to change your fucking diapers at the rate you’re acting like a damn child.”

“You’re the one that started all of this!” Jungkook exasperates, “With all due respect hyung, I love you and you’re my captain but I really feel like smashing your head into the wall right now.”

“That’s it?” Namjoon scoffs, “Well I’ll do you one better and let you know that every time you breathe in my direction I feel like—”

“Oh my God will you two idiots shut the fuck up?” Taehyung interjects, snapping at the two boys who pause, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Even Jimin is surprised at Taehyung’s intervention, purely because he was the type that usually let shit slide or let other people put problematic individuals into place. He was the mediator, the diplomat—not usually the aggressor.

“Wha—”

“Another peep and I’m going to smother your body under the dumbbells and leave you here to rot and die.” Taehyung seethes, staring straight into Jungkook’s soul.

That shuts him up.

“Both of you are acting like goddamn children, and for what? To battle out your masculinity to see who gets ____’s attention first?” Taehyung exasperates.

Namjoon clears his throat, “We were just—”

“—acting like a bunch of barbarians who’s never seen civilisation?” Taehyung retorts dryly, “Yeah. Because that’s exactly what this looks like. The two of you are so petty and for what? You two are literally rubbing the last remaining brain cells you have with each other but nothing is coming out from it. Like—nothing. Do you think she’d give a shit which one of you can lift more reps? That means absolutely nothing! She’s already freaked the fuck out at the prospect of her childhood best friend being in love with her and now we have Big Tit Number One and Two battling it out like you’re in the Greek Olympics.”

Jungkook blinks, and Jimin is mildly impressed.

“So before she comes back and tends to Jungkook’s hurt muscle,” Taehyung sneers, eyes narrowing at a guilty-looking Jungkook, “Both of you better sort your shit out.”

Namjoon flushes, embarrassed at the prospect of being called out, all while Jungkook is avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Oh my God, do you have a crush on each other or something? Apologise!” Taehyung gestures towards the two boys who awkwardly blink at each other, feeling much like reprimanded children.

It’s Namjoon who breaks the silence first, clearly the more mature one in the situation.

“Look … Jungkook,” He sighs, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to … drag it out like this. I don’t mean it maliciously and you’re my friend and teammate, so I’d really hate if a girl got in the way.”

Jungkook nibbles on his lips, eyebrows still scrunched; and the irrational part of him tells him to ignore the apology. But with the way that Taehyung is glaring him down, with Jimin’s expectant gaze, he knows that he doesn’t have much of a choice.

“I’m sorry … too,” he winces at his own voice, “But just to let you know … I really …” He shuts his eyes, feeling his chest tighten when he tries to force the words out, “She isn’t just … a girl to me, hyung. I really, really like her. And—I know you like her too but … I fucked up and I really want to make things right and seeing you—”

Jungkook is flushing while he rambles on, fully aware that the rest of his friends are listening intently to him speaking his heart. But a hand rests itself on his shoulder, and when Jungkook opens his eyes he sees Namjoon offering him a gentle smile.

“I know,” He says, “I know I said I wouldn’t back off …” He trails off and Jungkook recalls the conversation he had with him in the very same gym just a few weeks back, “But I don’t think I can compete with a decade long love story.” 

Jungkook scoffs, though his ears are flushed.

“It’s really not—”

Namjoon waves him off, clasping a tight hand onto his back that tells him it’s okay, and whatever that was going on would get better. And Jungkook feels marginally better and allows himself to let out a sigh of release.

“So are the two of you gonna kiss or what?” Jimin asks in the midst of the silence.

Namjoon glares at the boy, “Don’t make me give you an extra ten laps.”

He backs down immediately, raising his hands up in defence. And at that moment, you return, all smiles and with a pant as you raise the first aid kit up.

“Your arm?” You smile sweetly, and Jungkook can only offer a weak on in return.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Depends. Will I have to run from the government if I answer you honestly?” Yena ponders out loud.

You roll your eyes but shake your head anyway. The two of you were meant to be cooking dinner but you’ve surrendered yourself to Netflix and Yena’s witty live commentary on horrible films you were scrolling through an hour earlier. Though, your head wasn’t quite in it, to begin with; your thoughts drifting to other aspects, ones that you thought too hard for and didn’t necessarily know the answer to.

It was frustrating, the way that you wanted to have a solution for everything but overthought every single case that happens to pass by your mind. 

“No one’s hunting anyone down, your anarchist,” You say, “This is a little … personal.” 

You didn’t have any girl friends prior to Yena, and that was your first mistake. You weren’t the person that actively avoided having girl friends because you thought they were dramatic or overly emotional but purely because you never knew how to befriend women. It was weird—being a woman yet being muddled with your own sense of femininity that suppressed your ability to form meaningful friendships with your women peers.

Throughout most of your childhood and teenaged life, you only had Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook. While they were more than enough to keep your memories cheerful and filled with laughter, there were more personal things that you couldn’t quite approach them with. They had each other to confide in their ‘manly’ discussions, small talk that you’d often flush at—but you couldn’t ask them the same things you wanted to.

You knew, that on a fundamental level that your personal things were just … things. It wasn’t that deep, nor did it require a PhD in Gender Studies to fully understand the nuance of periods or apparent ‘girl’ problems; you just needed to listen. But you were timid, and you got embarrassed super easily—so that never boded well whenever you’d want to approach them with a question of your own.

But now, you had Yena—debatably the most open and understanding person you’ve met in your life; and you owed it to yourself, and her—to be honest, to live yourself vicariously in your girl best friends eyes—and ask:

“How do you have sex?”

Granted, there was definitely a smoother way of peeling off the bandaid, but you supposed if you were going to be discussing this one way or another, you’d go big or go home.

“I’m sorry,” She coughs, “What?”

You blink.

“Sorry, I guess I should’ve asked if you were a virgin first …” You mumble.

Yena stares at you with a stupefied expression as she gapes at you.

“Hey, repeat after me: candy, tree and cat.” She grabs you by your shoulders.

“I’m not cerebrally compromised, Yena,” you say dryly.

“Repeat,” She glares.

You huff, shoving her hand off your shoulder.

“Candy, tree and cat. There, happy?” You huff.

She eyes you weirdly as you sigh. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes!” You exasperate, “So like … how? Do you just? Penetrate?”

Yena blinks one more time, her eyes trailing to the ceiling as she asks for a higher being to give her strength before she returns her gaze onto your figure.

“Babe, that is literally the unsexiest way to approach sex.” 

“Penetration?” You furrow your brows.

She scrunches her brows, “No.” She gestures to you, “That.”

You scowl.

“I don’t know how to approach sex! That’s why I’m asking you. I literally don’t know who else to approach. If I went to Jimin or Taehyung I’m pretty sure they’d just stare at me and cry. Namjoon is out of the picture because he’d likely approach sex textbook style and I don’t need that level of detail right now. I definitely can’t ask Jungkook because he’s the guy I wanna have sex with. So yeah. I’m here because you’re a woman and the only person I can have a full conversation with without losing my will to live.”

Yena gawks at you, jaw slack as you finish your ramble; ears flushed.

“… you …” She begins, wracking her brain for the words that seem to fail her, “… okay. You know what, the fact that you’re here and putting your big girl pants on and asking me this is a feat in itself so I’m going to just ignore the fact that you said you wanted to have sex with Jungkook.”

You flush, “I was word vomiting—”

“Ah,” She holds her hands up, levelling you with a knowing glare, “If you want honest, you be honest too.”

You slump in your seat, sighing as you nod your head defeatedly.

“Firstly, I’m not a virgin. I could never be a virgin.” Yena declares, “Granted, I’ve slept with three people and two of them were women. But the idiot I lost my virginity to was, unfortunately, of XY chromosomes so … I guess I can answer your questions.”

“I mean … I know how sex works but … approaching it …” You mutter.

“And sex isn’t this groundbreaking act that requires Einstein’s IQ to partake in. It’s both intimate and not, and that’s definitely a personal preference. You can know the semantics of how people have sex, for hets in this case, which is just the classic ol’ penetration method where the penis enters the—”

“Your point?” You exasperate.

“—okay, I got a little carried away. But really, sex isn’t … difficult. It’s scary, I’ll give you that. But you don’t go into your first time thinking you’ll be great at it. Hell, you won’t even like sex that much your first few times unless your partner is a sex demon or something.”

“I mean when Jungkook …” You shudder, “When he … I … you know, did things … it felt …” You fiddle with your fingers. Your ears were undoubtedly on fire, and you were so embarrassed saying these things out loud because it was just so awkward!

“Good? You know I’m not going to judge you for it,” she says pointedly, “That’s what friends are for, right?”

You flush, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment. You knew that Yena would never judge you for something as trivial and as unimportant as your sexual endeavours, but this was still a road you’ve yet to properly navigate yourself.

“I … came,” you wince at your breathy voice, “It felt good. And … he’s experienced, you know? I just don’t want to …”

Yena looks at you inquisitively.

“You don’t want to …?”

You sigh deeply, considering your next words with a soft murmur, “I don’t want to not live up to his expectations, you know?”

She frowns at you, “Jungkook’s made some mistakes but you said it yourself. He’s in love with you,” she says softly, “There’s no pressure to have sex with him just because it’s out in the open now, you know?”

You nibble on your lips.

���It’s … more than just that,” you tell her, “I told him I needed time, and really, I do. But it isn’t because I’m confused. I mean, kind of—but really it’s because I don’t want to walk into something and disappoint him … I’m just … scared.”

Yena holds your hand in hers while offering you a gentle smile.

“It’s valid that you’re scared. But there really isn’t anything that can come out of being scared right now. The two of you worked through an obstacle, and here you are creating another one that doesn’t quite exist yet. Trust me, when the time feels right, it does. And you’ll feel ready. Will you still be scared? Maybe. But it’ll feel like it’s meant to fit within your timeline.”

You nibble on your lips, “Is it bad that I’m overthinking this?” You wince.

Yena shrugs her shoulders, “Like everything else in your life?” She teases.

You whine, shoving at her shoulder playfully where all Yena does is snicker in response. You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting out of the conversation, even if it was vaguely about the ins and outs of sexual exploration. And she was right, you’ll always be afraid of something, whether it’ll benefit you or harm you because that’s what change does. It shifts your comfort zone into a space that may be unfamiliar but necessary.

You lean into Yena’s shoulder, and a wave of overwhelming emotion washes upon you when you look at her. You really didn’t know how you survived a time without Yena in your life. And as if she’s noticed your glassy gaze, she raises an eyebrow at you.

“What are you looking at?”

You grin at her, all teeth and gums on display as you hug onto her arm like a koala.

“I’m just really happy you’re in my life.” You sigh wistfully.

She pauses for one whole second before she snorts.

“Wow, talk about sex once and suddenly you’re in love with me?” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, “Tell Jeon and Kim that you’re mine now.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes.

“They’re not even competing in the same league as you are,” you assure her.

She smiles.

“So … does that mean I don’t need to get you a birthday gift?”

That earns a thwack on her shoulder.

[mypoisonedvine]

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (chapter 10 - FINALE)

series masterlist

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: 6k

warnings: implied smut, angst, fluff, romcom tropes, lots of swearing, pregnancy mention/minor breeding kink

note: click the asterisk for a hyperlink to a translation when the time comes

Six months later...

“It’s good!” she beamed, setting down the last chunk of pages and taking off her reading glasses. “Oh man, that ending hurt, but it’s really, really good!”

You leaned back into the plush chair and sighed with relief. “You think so?”

“It’s best-seller material,” she assured. “With some editing, of course. God, I can’t believe you were sitting on this for so long.”

“What are the biggest changes you want to make?” you asked.

“Well, I’m thinking we’ll cut the romantic subplot,” she mentioned in passing, like it was no big deal. “It’s distracting.

“Distracing?” you repeated. “Nia, it’s the story. It’s a romance.”

“I thought it was a thriller,” she frowned.

“A romance disguised as a thriller,” you corrected.

“Listen, I get what you mean, but I didn’t get this—” she tapped the nameplate on her desk: ‘NIA BROWN, HEAD PUBLISHER’ in shiny letters— “for nothing. I know what I’m talking about, and I know what your readers want. Violence, gore, drama!”

“It has all that!” you defended. “But it’s all there to talk about the real love he finds in her!”

“What do you mean ‘real love’?” she pressed flatly.

“I mean…” you pondered. “I mean love where you feel like a version of yourself that you actually like. Love where you feel unjudged, no precedents or caveats or back-up plans. Love that fucking hurts because you never wanted to rely on anything or anybody. Love that lives in silence because you don’t even need words.”

She furrowed her brow. “That… sounds nice, I guess, but I don’t think anybody really has that. Everybody needs a back-up plan. Everybody needs words— a writer should know that.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god,” you groaned, your face falling into your hands. “I’m so fucking stupid. Jesus Christ, I’m a moron.”

“What? What’s going on?”

“I had that! I had that, and I let it go! I’m the dumbest bitch on the fucking face of the Earth.”

“Don’t say that,” she soothed, but you were already standing up.

“No, I need to find him,” you decided as you grabbed your coat and briefcase. “I need to go back and try to fix this. I love him, I’ve never— I didn’t know I could love like that, I didn’t know I could be loved like that… oh my god, I need to find him. It isn’t over.”

“It isn’t over?” she repeated incredulously. “You said Michael signed the papers!”

“It’s not Michael,” you rolled your eyes as you stormed out of the office. “It was never Michael.”

You ran into the first telephone box you could find, slamming the door shut as you searched your purse for the business card that probably wasn't even in there.

After a moment, you gasped with delight when you pulled it from a very bottom pocket and began punching in the number as fast as possible with shivering hands, long-distance charges be damned.

“Hello?” the confused voice on the other end answered.

“Mrs. Alberti, hi— does Sebastian still work for you?” you asked hastily.

“No, dear," she sighed, apparently recognizing you by just your voice (and likely your request), "he quit recently, and moved away.”

“Moved?" you repeated with a wrinkled brow. "Where?!”

“I assume back home, sweetheart; to Bucharest.”

“Shit,” you sighed. “Shit!”

“Are you having your ‘run through the airport’ moment, sweetheart?” she realized.

“Yes, I think so— do you have his address?”

“Well, no, but I’ll see what I can find.”

You waited rather impatiently as she shuffled through papers in the background, mumbling to herself as she apparently searched for information that could help you.

“All I’ve got is the address of a previous employer… a carpenter,” she finally explained, breaking the silence. “It was his only reference when he came to work here," she explained.

"Wow, you really did just hire him for his looks," you blurted out.

"He was desperate for work, that boy had nowhere else to go,” she defended.

“Right, well, I guess if that’s my only lead then I’ve gotta go for it,” you decided. “Thank you, Mrs. Alberti.”

“I told you to call me when that book was a hit. Did it happen yet?” she piped up.

“It’s not published yet,” you explained. “It needs some more work… but I think it’s almost ready.”

“I think so, too, dear.”

Learn Romanian in 10 Weeks! A practical language guide.

Week 1, Day 1: Greetings

Hello                      Salut

Goodbye                La revedere

Thank you              Mulțumesc

You’re welcome      Cu plăcere

Good morning         Bună dimineata

Good afternoon       Bună ziua

Good evening          Bună seara

Good night               Noapte bună

You brushed your hair back out of your face with a sigh, turning the page as you mumbled the phrases to yourself. Broken Hungarian and your high school education in Latin were not getting you as far with this as you had been hoping.

How are you?          Ce mai faci

I love you                 Te iubesc

“Te iubesc, te iubesc, te iubesc,” you repeated over and over in a whisper.

Each day you had a new routine: practice Romanian for an hour, check flight prices online (or call the airline), research what you knew about Sebastian and the address Mrs. Alberti had given you, and then get back to practicing Romanian again.

Oh, and occasionally you worked on the edits Nia wanted for your manuscript. You were focusing on the minor changes— grammar errors, rearranging sentences— and putting off her big request for the removal and replacement of the romantic aspects. More than ever, they seemed like the most important thing the book had to offer.

You had a small apartment, just a place to sleep and shower really; much too small to fit everything you’d already taken from Michael’s house (you know, the one that used to be your house) along with what he’d shipped to you that you forgot before. He included a letter in the package as well. You threw it out, unopened.

Truthfully, you never really fully unpacked. As much as you realized you probably should, in order to really feel like you had a real home, you couldn’t bring yourself to empty your suitcases when you knew you’d be packing them again any day now.

You also realized how outrageous this all was. Ignoring the unlikelihood of even finding him in the first place, Sebastian probably wouldn’t want anything to do with you after you broke his heart, left, and then randomly tracked him down after over half a year. But to be totally transparent, you weren’t really doing this to get him back, necessarily. You knew that was probably never going to happen. You were doing this because you needed to try. You needed to go there, and get hurt, and come back knowing you did everything you could: you’d never be able to live with yourself if you did anything less than that.

You couldn’t start your new life until you had put everything else to bed. And if that meant being 100%, painfully certain that you and Sebastian could never be together, then that was just how it needed to be.

After two weeks of looking, there still weren’t any reasonable flights to Bucharest, so you booked another trip by train, figuring you could use the three day trip to brush up on the key Romanian phrases you were going to need as well as prepare your speech.

Yes, your plan was a speech. You didn’t have a back-up plan. You didn’t even have a return ticket back to London yet.

A passage by Yeats came to mind; But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.

In all your life, you’d never understood before why someone would want to only have their dreams. But now, here you were… and yes, it felt terrifying and vulnerable and uncomfortably naked, but it felt pretty damn good, too.

With a sigh, you scribbled out the last sentence you’d written, tossing the trash paper aside. You looked up out the window at the scenery flying by in a blur, worried that if you didn’t look out from the train every once in a while you’d get motion sickness.

The sun was beginning to set already, the green of hills and trees tinted orange. You only indulged in it for a moment, though, before getting back to this god-forsaken speech you were deadset on finishing before you arrived in Bucharest tomorrow. At first, you’d figured the translating would be the most difficult part… but writing in English wasn’t exactly a piece of cake, either. You had so much to say, and suddenly so few words for any of it.

You’d probably done more editing on this than any of your novels combined; the crumpled up pages spilling out of your wastebasket were proof enough of that.

“And I’m a fucking writer!” you groaned aloud, to no one in particular. “How is anybody else supposed to be able to do this, if I can’t?”

Other people aren’t as emotionally constipated as you, the voice of your inner critic reminded you plainly, making you roll your eyes at yourself.

A rap at your door made you sit up straighter and turn around. A stewardess slid open the frosted glass slightly to give you a friendly smile. “Is everything alright, ma’am?”

Your brows furrowed at the sound of her accent. “Is that a Romanian accent?” you asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded.

“So you’re fluent in Romanian and English,” you concluded.

“And Portuguese, yes ma’am,” she agreed.

“Could you come in here for a moment and help me translate something?”

She seemed slightly confused at the request but stepped forward, sliding the door most of the way shut behind her. Leaning beside you on the desk, she picked up your handwritten letter and blinked her wide, brown eyes a few times. You felt slightly embarrassed knowing she was reading such intimate thoughts, but that was how it felt the first time someone read anything you wrote so you were pretty much used to it by now.

“I usually ask the passengers what brings them to Bucharest,” she mumbled after a moment. “This is the most interesting thing so far. Am I reading this correctly, that you intend to confess your love to someone you met—” she scanned the page quickly— “during a vacation in Hungary?”

“Yup,” you smiled awkwardly, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word.

“And he doesn’t speak English?” she assumed; you nodded. “And… you don’t speak Romanian?”

You nodded again, and she breathed in and out quickly, sitting beside you as she stared at the letter.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she explained.

“Sorry for sucking you into the entropic vortex that is my life,” you chuckled.

“I don’t mean to pry,” she sighed, setting the letter down, and you laughed a little internally at the idea that she was worried about prying when she just read the most personal piece of writing you’d ever put to the page, “but do you think this is… enough? I mean, to build a relationship on?”

You just gave her a shrug. “I have no idea. But, you know, I spent my whole life worrying about stuff like that. I dated my husband for seven years before we got married, because I wanted to be sure. I was initially interested in him because he was successful and ambitious, and it made me feel like this was a really secure relationship that I could rely on. I double majored in English and Computer Science because I wanted a more stable career to fall back on in case being a writer didn’t work out, and even though it did, I’ve spent most of my career publishing what I thought people wanted to read instead of what I wanted to write, so I’d have a better shot at a good paycheck. I grew up thinking the best thing I could ever have was security. And now I’m divorced, watching my royalties shrink every month, more insecure in every way than I’ve ever been, and I’m realizing that the choices I made didn’t give me what I wanted. I gave up so much in the name of safety, and I let the one good thing I’d ever found go, so I could go back to being the same person I always was. I’m ready to settle again, if this doesn’t work… I’m ready to accept that this is just the way life goes, and be thankful that I got a taste of the kind of stuff I thought only existed in the sort of books I’d read but never write.”

She swallowed as she looked at you, and you felt your eyes water as you stared out the window towards the dimming scenery one more time, smiling at the sight of a distant village, a church with a steeple, vineyards and farms. Someone’s whole life is in that little town, you imagined, and they’re just watching your train go by like they see every other day.

“Sebastian gave me more security than I’d ever had before, even though the whole thing was such a ridiculous little whirlwind, and nothing like I ever imagined my life could be. But he made me want to be honest and raw and write sappy letters like the one you just read. He doesn’t have any money, at least as far as I know, and I haven’t known him for seven years, and on paper it makes no sense… but you would understand if you knew him. If you felt that joy that he radiates, if you saw him live his simple little life like it’s the best thing in the world. You would understand if you knew how much I needed this. You would understand if you had been just as miserable being who I’ve been for so long, and finally had a chance to be somebody you think you were maybe meant to be the whole time. So, if I never see him again, I hope I just get to thank him.”

You waited for her to say something, but furrowed your brow at the long moment of silence, looking back from the window finally and finding her staring at you with a tear running down her cheek. When you met her gaze, she quickly wiped it away with a sniffle and looked down at your desk again. “Let’s get to translating, shall we?” she announced with a half-smile.

You noticed the way the other passengers looked at you as everyone was in line to deboard from the train car; you stuck out like a sore thumb, since everybody else was carrying heavy luggage and all you had was a backpack.

In your defense, you really had no idea how to pack for a trip where you knew neither the duration nor the true final destination. So, it was mainly filled with your essentials, a few clothes for any kind of weather, and enough leu to buy anything else you needed along the way.

The stewardess was waving goodbye to everyone as they shuffled out into the train station, occasionally stopping to shake a hand or give directions to nearby destinations. When you were just about to pass by, though, she pulled you into a tight hug.

“Good luck,” she whispered, holding you just a moment too long before pulling back and giving you an encouraging look. “If he doesn’t take you back, feel free to blame my translation… because if he knows what’s in your heart, I know he’ll say yes.”

“Yeah, that’s the hard part isn’t it?” you laughed weakly. “Thank you for your help. I guess if I come back alone for the return trip tonight, you’ll know how bad it went.”

“Then I hope I don’t see you again,” she winked.

It being a major train station and all, cabs were waiting around every corner so it was pretty easy to grab one and give them the address you already had written down for this exact purpose.

“This is pretty far,” the driver explained, “on the edge of town. Not a tourist spot.”

“Good, because I’m not a tourist,” you nodded, already only giving him half your attention as you pulled out the translated speech to practice.

“And you can afford this?” he pressed. You sighed and dug through your bag, pulling out a haphazard stack of bills and handing them through the plastic partition.

“Is this enough?” you asked, and he didn’t answer, just taking the money and starting the car as you smiled and leaned back in your seat.

As much as you had tried to convince yourself to not get your hopes up, the butterflies in your stomach felt more like whole birds at this point, demanding to break free as you practiced the words hand-written on the page over and over again, committing it all to memory.

“What are you reading?” the cab driver asked after several minutes.

“Oh, nothing,” you mumbled, “sorry if I’m bothering you, you can turn on the radio.”

“No, it’s not bothering me, but what you are saying… it’s very odd. It sounds like something from a play, or movie,” he explained.

“Um, it’s not,” you replied, a little embarrassed. “But does it sound like it’s from a good movie? Like, if you heard a character say this to another character, would you think they should get together?”

“I… don’t know,” he answered, sounding confused. “I mean, it depends on what happened, right? How they met, how well they get along…”

So, you told him the whole story, as succinctly as possible (which is not very succinct at all). By the end, he was actually giving commentary as you spoke.

“Why the hell did you leave?” he interjected, clearly irritated with you. “You loved him!”

“Yeah, well, sometimes love isn’t enough! I loved my husband too, and look how that turned out,” you defended.

“But that’s different. That was love for all the wrong reasons.”

“I promise, it felt very real at the time,” you shrugged.

“And now?” he countered. “You realize that this man— Sebastian, right?— is real.”

“I hope I’m right this time,” you offered. “But even if I am, he may not agree.”

The driver scoffed, taking a hand off the wheel to wave dismissively. “If he’s anything like you said, then he will still be completely in love with you. After all, you still feel the same way after all this time apart, don’t you?”

“If anything, I love him more every day,” you admitted, your heart beating quickly just to say it aloud.

“You know, when I met my wife, she was engaged to another man. He was rich, good-looking, and he wasn’t even a bad guy unlike this husband you describe. He was a good man, but he wasn’t right for her. They were… content together, but she wasn’t truly happy. Every night I would come to her window and beg her to marry me, because I knew that she knew we were meant for each other, but she was scared because her family wouldn’t approve and she would be a poor man’s wife.”

“How did you convince her to marry you instead?” you asked eagerly, sucked into the story already.

“I didn’t. On the day of the wedding, some people told me to go and break it up but I didn’t. I thought it would be wrong, to try to ruin her happiness and take it for myself by making a scene at the wedding. I realized she was her own woman and if she wanted to choose him, I had to let her. I had locked myself in my house, not wanting to see anyone that day, and she appeared at my door. I didn’t need to convince her because she knew the truth in her heart, and called off the wedding herself.”

“Wow,” you smiled.

“She was still in her dress!” he recalled with a hearty laugh. “She looked like an angel. We were married just a few days later. And next month will be thirty years,” he added as he lifted his left hand to show the golden band on his finger.

“Thirty years, that’s… a long time,” you sighed.

“It wasn’t always easy,” he admitted. “But it was always worth it.”

Just as you wondered what you could possibly say to that, you felt the car slow down to a stop.

“This is the address you gave me, this is it,” he explained, pointing out his passenger-side window. You leaned up against the glass and gasped in dawning fear as you saw the storefront dark and empty inside.

“No, nonono,” you whispered rapidly to yourself as you swung open the door and hopped out, pressing your face against the glass to try to get a look inside and finding what was undeniably a closed carpentry business. There was a note on the door, taped on the inside of the glass, and you knew enough Romanian to know it said something about a vacation and three months.

“Shit!” you yelped, holding your face in your hands, wondering if your journey had come to an end before it really began.

“Are you alright?” the driver asked, rolling down his window to speak to you.

“This was my only lead, I don’t have his real address,” you explained. “He used to work here, I thought maybe someone would know him…”

He sighed, giving you a sympathetic look. “Get back in, we can search nearby. You came too far to give in yet.”

But getting back in the car felt like giving in, too, which you realized as you looked back at the note taped to the carpenter's door. This was the closest you'd gotten, and it felt wasteful to leave with nothing.

Just as you were ready to hop in the passenger seat and start searching aimlessly through suburban Bucharest, or maybe look around for a Romanian yellow pages, you heard a noise from behind you, across the street; a laugh. His laugh. But it couldn’t be because it was too good to be true… and yet you found yourself whipping your head around and hoping beyond all reason that it was Sebastian.

Across the street was a restaurant, with a large patio where patrons were dining and chatting as they sat at wrought iron tables, and your eyes searched the crowd for any signs of him.

And then your gaze landed on a head of thick brunette hair, red and gold highlights so obvious now when the sunlight hit it this way. Broad shoulders wrapped in a white button-up shirt. He was facing away from you but he was looking to the side so you could see his face; he was smiling, laughing at something someone had said. And it was his smile that you recognized; it was like everything else faded away, and in that moment you thought maybe you could almost be happy with just this, just seeing him be happy even if it had nothing to do with you.

“Sebastian,” you called out to him, but he didn’t react. “Sebastian!”

His whole body turned, his eyes met yours, and you couldn't help but let the tears well in your eyes as you ran across the road to him.

He looked, understandably, stunned, and you realized he was actually waiting on a table at the moment; he said something to them, apparently excusing himself, and stepped closer to you.

But he stopped walking, not coming any closer, not exactly dragging you into his arms like you might've preferred, but with a breath to try to soothe your racing mind, you summoned your memories of the practiced letter and began. *

“Când am venit în Ungaria…” you started slowly, doing your best to remember the words and hoping your pronunciation wasn’t too awful, “nu căutam dragoste. Căutam spațiu, claritate și poate o idee de carte de un milion de dolari. În schimb, am găsit tot ce am căutat toată viața mea…”

You did your best to bite back tears, especially when his expression was nearly unreadable and you had no idea how well this was going.

“Ești tu, Sebastian, bineînțeles că ești tu,” you sighed, laughing slightly. “Ai fost acolo pentru mine când nici nu știam ce vreau de la nimeni. Ai fost prietenul meu fără să spui vreodată un cuvânt - cel puțin nu un cuvânt pe care l-am înțeles. M-ai iubit și nu știam ce să fac cu asta, pentru că uitasem cu mult timp în urmă cum se simțea să fii iubit. Și ce simțeai să iubești cu adevărat pe cineva. Dar te iubesc. Și am fost prost să te las să pleci, atât de neconceput de prost. Vreau să fim noi, Sebastian. Lasă-mă să te iubesc, mai dă-mi o șansă și îți promit că nu te voi mai lăsa să pleci niciodată.

The first thing he said was your name, and just the way he said it made you fall in love with him all over again.

“I… I dream that you would come back,” he shakily replied. “But now I cannot believe. You are my dream.”

Tears were openly flowing at this point and you wanted to run into his arms, but you tried to stay calm and hear him out. He stepped closer, almost hesitant, like you would run away if he got too close too fast.

“I love you, very much that I am sure I am insane person,” he explained with a grin, and you giggled. “We will live anywhere, do anything you would like— be my wife.”

You gasped as he pulled you into him, gripping your arms tightly as his desperation became apparent.

“Marry me?” he asked softly.

“Da,” you nodded, “yes, of course, anything—”

He kissed you suddenly, but gently, and it said more than any words in any language could.

It was a small wedding, in the Hungarian countryside by the lake. You could remember diving into that lake for lost pages of your manuscript; you could remember looking out over the water and dreaming of this moment you were living right now, thinking it was impossible.

He didn’t have much family, but they welcomed you with open arms.

Your family, well, they were too busy with planning another wedding, for your ex-husband and your ex-sister. A few of them sent cards but the rest were suspiciously quiet. You honestly didn’t even notice… you had a new family to attend to, anyhow. And it wasn’t like you didn’t have any guests, since you were able to track down and invite a stewardess named Maria, and a cab driver named Andrei and his wife, Paola.

Sebastian’s cousins weaved flowers into your hair and his grandmother tailored her dress to fit you like a glove. A picture of his parents was hung nearby in tribute; he told you they would’ve wanted to see him get married but that he felt, in some way, they were able to even if they had passed away quite some time ago.

You realized you’d never seen him in anything even mildly formal before; in fact, the suit he wore was rather casual, all things considered, but he looked so painfully cute in it. Sometimes you thought he actually looked a bit out of place wearing a shirt, though, especially one that was buttoned up all the way.

Luckily, the shirt was halfway unbuttoned about ten minutes into the reception.

Mrs. Alberti cooked a massive dinner for everyone, and even grew the flowers that you carried down the cobblestone aisle.

And wow, can Romanians drink. You had to be careful not to try to keep up with them, because if you had you would’ve been blacked out halfway into the night and the last thing you wanted was to forget even a moment of this.

As the night started to wind down to a close, you and your new husband retired to the lakehouse, running up the stairs and finding them as creaky as always.

He wrapped his arms around you in the hall and kissed you eagerly as you stumbled back into the bedroom, tripping over the doorway and falling onto the bed together.

It felt so right to have his weight on top of you, to feel his smile against your lips, to wrap your arms around his neck.

“This room,” he mumbled into the kiss. “Do you remember first time?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “da, I remember, how could I forget?”

He grinned and moved his lips down to your neck. "I thought of you every day… I love you,” he whispered.

“Te iubesc,” you whispered back.

It was almost like the first time in so many ways: passionate, yet oddly hesitant as you rediscovered each other. It was comfortable, though… you couldn’t think of any other person you felt so comfortable with, somebody who finally got you out of your own head and who made you want to experience everything life had to offer.

You were sure you’d never gone so long without worrying about something in all your life.

“My wife,” he whispered against your skin. “This is all I had wanted… from seeing you in very beginning.”

“You’re all I ever wanted,” you sighed in return, “ești tot ce mi-am dorit vreodată, Sebastian.”

Life with Sebastian was beautifully simple. You spent most of the day writing, usually, while he built furniture to sell and occasionally gardened with his spare time. You could always tell how busy you’d been with a new novel lately by how perfectly groomed the hydrangea bushes were.

You’d told him once that you’d come to Hungary looking for a million-dollar book idea. A Killer in Disguise performed alright, but not anywhere near that. The Language of Love, on the other hand, was definitely a million-dollar idea… about eleven times over. Sebastian didn’t seem to worry too much about how much money you made, though; he was just proud to say that he was the inspiration for your hit novel. You secretly suspected that he was more proud of your work reaching enough international notoriety to be translated into Romanian.

His English still needed some work, but you found it endearing. He was determined to get better and spent at least a half-hour each day practicing, but you hoped he wouldn’t get too perfect because you would miss the silly little mistakes he made. At least you could be sure he’d keep the accent forever… damn, that accent; and he knew exactly what it did to you, too.

In fact, you were crossing through the hall in your robe one evening when your husband’s voice stopped you.

“Darling wife,” you heard Sebastian call from the bedroom in a playful sing-song.

“What is it, Seba?” you asked with a smirk.

“Come in here, please…”

You opened the bedroom door to find most of the room covered in rose petals: most of all the bed, which was surrounded by candles, and topped with a shirtless (as per usual) Sebastian, laid on his side seductively with a long-stemmed rose (one you recognized from his very own garden) between his teeth.

“What are you doing?” you laughed. “Is this some sort of special occasion I’ve forgotten?”

You were already searching your mind for what it could be, but your two-year anniversary had passed a few months ago already and since it was spring it couldn’t be the anniversary of when you first met since that was late in the summer.

“Iss not quite a thpecial occathion yeth,” he answered before taking the rose from his mouth so he actually made sense. “I was considering it could be a special occasion, when we’re done…”

You smirked and climbed over the candles and into bed with him, taking the opportunity to run your hands over his chest. “And what occasion would that be?”

“A year from now, it could be the anniversary of when our child was conceived,” he answered.

Your breath caught in your throat, your voice reduced to a whisper of surprise. “Seba—”

“If you’re not ready, I will be understand,” he instantly added, stern yet soft. “Only if you want this, I just thought that maybe—”

You silenced him with a kiss, lacing your fingers into his hair and letting him roll you onto your back. He pulled back just enough to let you answer, but your noses were still bumping into each other and you smiled.

“I’m ready, Sebastian. More than ready,” you whispered.

He grinned and kissed you again, deeper and slower as he held your face with one hand and gripped your waist with the other. As his lips trailed down to your neck, you were interrupted with one pressing thought.

“Can I ask you something?”

He popped up and looked down at you with a smile. “Sure!”

“Why are you wearing ratty old jeans?” you laughed.

“Hey, these worked on you the first time,” he defended.

You gasped. “You don’t mean those are the jeans—”

“Yes,” he nodded, “the jeans that I had been wearing when I was working on Mrs. Alberti’s cottage. And, truly, when I was finding an excuse to work outside your window.”

“Wait,” you sat up, “did you actually work outside my window on purpose?”

He laughed, hanging his head quickly before looking back at you again with a sparkle in his eye. “You are very smart, my love, except for those times when you are— how do you say? Oblivious.”

You chuckled, unfortunately very aware that he was right.

“Didn’t you ever wonder why I was building a window frame, nearly a dozen metres away from the window it was for?”

You thought for a moment before dropping your face into your hands and laughing. “No, I didn’t notice that. I was too busy giving you a thorough eye-fuck,” you recalled.

“Yes, because I was not wearing a shirt and this distracted you,” he pondered, sounding suddenly like a scientist explaining a theorem or something. “See, that’s the beauty of wearing the jeans and no shirt. The body distracts you while the jeans seduce you.”

“How about you take the jeans off and put that body on me, capisce?” you pleaded; not that you didn’t love his humor or anything, but maybe his funny bone wasn’t exactly the bone you were interested in at the moment.

He grinned devilishly and suddenly pulled your legs apart, settling his body between them as he kissed your neck again, nipping at your jawline and ear. “You’re being impatient, dragă,” he purred. “You want to have my baby that badly?”

You whined involuntarily, arching your back as his hands roamed your body and finally began to untie your robe and push the silk out of the way. “Yes, Sebastian, please—”

“Let’s just say, theoretically, I wanted to have more than one? Would you have another of my children?” he asked softly as he reached up and palmed at your breasts, teasing your nipples which were already much too hard and sensitive for how little he’d touched you. The rough denim rubbing against the inside of your thighs was oddly arousing— maybe it was the sensation itself, or maybe it was just that this was almost like the first thing you imagined when you saw Sebastian all those years ago.

“Yes,” you moaned out your answer, “yes, you know I’d do anything for you.”

“What if I wanted a big family?” he pressed. “Really big? Like, Catholic big?”

“We can have our own fuckin’ Brady Bunch, Seb, I just need you right now,” you begged, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a hot and desperate kiss.

He decided to wait until afterwards to ask what a ‘Brady Bunch’ was. You decided to wait until afterwards to ask when he’d learned how to use the word ‘theoretically’.

sfarsit; the end

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 18

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 7.6k

Abu Dhabi holds a special place in Pierre's heart. The food is great, the views are spectacular, and there is always plenty to do to keep him busy. Night races are some of the more exciting races too and Pierre appreciated the variety.

Coming into the final race of the season, Pierre holds on to seventh in the championship by a few points. Perez sensed the usurper creeping up on his seat and had cranked it up to eleven. 

Exams had kept you in London for the race in Brazil, where Pierre had finished sixth and Checo DNF'd. You had managed to fly out for the weekend in Saudi Arabia, where Perez had finished fifth and closed the gap to Pierre to only four points behind. 

If Pierre didn't finish ahead of Perez this weekend, he was fucked. And he was at the distinct disadvantage of his good luck charm being absent, stuck in London finishing up your final few exams of the semester. Two weeks without seeing you coupled with barely hearing from you had worn on him. It wasn't purposeful on your part but Pierre's stress was already compressed like the suspension on his car. Stray an inch too far over the racing line, hit a curb too hard and it was liable to snap, sending bits and pieces flying.

Pierre checks his phone for the millionth time as he waits to check in to the hotel. Wednesday was late for this many crew members to be arriving. His main concern though was that you hadn't responded to the text he'd sent you upon landing.

"Look lively, will you?" Max claps Pierre on the shoulder and he slides his phone into his pocket. "It's the last race of the season. We get to go balls to the wall and leave it all out in the track. And here you are looking like a kicked puppy."

"Easy for you to say," Pierre starts, grinning at his friend. "You clinched the title weeks ago. You don't even have to race this weekend if you don't want to and you'd still win."

"Doesn't mean I won't be shooting for a podium."

Pierre rolls his eyes. "Yeah well we can't all be so lucky, can we?"

"Next year you'll be playing with the big dogs." Max hands the receptionist his ID, says a few words and turns back to Pierre. "Looking forward to having you as a teammate again. It was fun for those couple races and I'm sure you'll be a challenge now that you've found your groove."

"You're gonna jinx it if you keep talking." Pierre laughs, praying that it covers up the old wound Max's statement picked open. Pierre hated the idea of moving back to Red Bull but he didn't have much choice. He was still contracted to one of four Red Bull branded seats for next season. A promotion, at the very least, would help him showcase his talent and further cement his value. If he had to spend any longer than that with the team, ripping out his hair was a real possibility.

"Wasn't someone supposed to be with you this weekend?" Max quirks a brow. "Where is she?"

"In London." Max bringing you up doesn't help the pit forming in Pierre's stomach. Win or lose, seventh or eighth, Red Bull or Alpha Tauri, come Sunday Pierre wanted you at his side. Interview requests were bound to roll in either way and Pierre would need someone to ground him, a task much easier to accomplish if you were physically at his side.

"Too bad." Max clicks his tongue and takes his room keys from the receptionist. "It's gonna be a fun weekend."

"I don't think-"

Pierre's vision goes dark at the same time someone whispers, "Guess who?"

Pierre sucks in a breath, spins on his heel and wraps you in a hug in one smooth motion. You laugh as he lifts you off your feet and presses kisses to your cheeks. 

"What are you doing here?" He grabs both suitcases and tugs you aside. His room can wait.

"Tost asked me to come." Your grin is contagious, its twin appearing on Pierre's own cheeks. "He said that since you were flying out from Milan on your own there was an extra seat on the jet, so if I got myself to Nice I could fly out with the Red Bull boys."

"Seven hours trapped in a tin can with Max, Yuki and Checo?" Pierre rubs his chest. "I've got heartburn just thinking about that."

"It wasn't so bad," you say, finally giving him a proper kiss. "Yuki and I just played games on our phones the whole time. And I beat Max at Scrabble."

"How many Dutch words did he try to use?"

"Mmm, about half the words he tried were definitely not English."

"Yep, sounds about right." Pierre throws an arm around your shoulders and leads you back to the reception desk. He pays for an upgraded room when you aren't looking- though when you're assigned a suite there's not much higher you can go- and slips the woman behind the counter an extra bill for good measure.

"I could use a nap," you note, leaning against Pierre like you'd otherwise fall over. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

Pierre checks his watch. "We've got time for a nap."

"We?" Your raised eyebrow is question enough. Pierre smiles and swipes his key card once you're in the elevator with him. He hadn't looked at the price of the room but he was positive it was more than he'd spent on a single night in his entire career, considering it occupies an entire floor of the swanky hotel.

"It's date night," Pierre says simply. Initially his plan had been to invite Charles over for a game of Fifa but the Monegasque wouldn’t fault him for cancelling at the last minute. "We're in one of the most luxurious cities in the world and I'm going to show you off every chance I get. The restaurant down stairs is to die for."

Your attempt at nodding along with what he says is thwarted by a yawn. "Sleep first, eat later." Seeing as it was impossible to deny you, Pierre simply drops a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Wait until you see our room." The way your eyes light up when he says our room makes him want to say it again and again just to see you sparkle.

"I know you upgraded it, Mr. I-think-I'm-sneaky." You uncurl yourself from against his arm when the elevator chimes. "How much did it cost?"

"A few extra pennies."

The stainless steel doors open directly into the suite. The living space is dominated by a curving crescent of full length windows overlooking the cerulean harbor and the jagged steel of the city skyline beyond. Suitcase forgotten, your jaw drags along the floor as you toe off your shoes in favor of sinking onto one of the half moon couches situated around a low coffee table.

"Did you get some sort of bonus you didn't tell me about?" Pierre sees your inner engineer cataloging the chandelier dripping crystals over the carved dining table and the pattern of the black veined marble flooring. "This cost more than a few pennies."

"I didn't really look at the price so it's possible," he admits. In the end it was worth it to see you like this, happy as a pig in mud. Pierre was in his element at the track you were in yours in beautiful buildings. For all Pierre cared you could be sharing a dingy room at a motel; it would still be five star worthy with you there. 

Every once in a while though, you deserve a bit of pampering for all you put up with. Late nights and months apart wasn’t easy on either of you, but you stuck by him. And when the day comes that Pierre retires or loses his seat, you would be the one there to comfort him. Spending frivolous amounts of money to see you smile was nothing in the grand scheme of things. 

In Pierre’s world, money is temporary, you are forever.

"Well I have half a mind to tear into you for spending so much on a room we won't spend all that much time in," you start, your star-speckled gaze landing on Pierre, "the view is too pretty to be upset about."

"Mine isn't half bad either." You laugh, tucking an errant hair behind your ear. You both know he isn’t referring to the glittering bay or the expensive furnishings.

"Up," Pierre demands softly, holding out his hand. Your hand is warm and dwarfed by his long fingers but you barely seem to notice. The heart in his chest pounds for no discernable reason as he leads you down the narrow hall past doors leading to what he can only assume are bedrooms and bathrooms, to the one at the end of the hall. Based on his mental floor plan this one has the best view, if he's guessed correctly.

Your breezy oh confirms his hunch. You stutter at the threshold, coming up short behind him to bathe in the beauty of the sea, dotted through with white sails. Sunlight twinkles off the waves and if he breathes deep enough, he can almost smell the salt.

"Come on," Pierre says with a chuckle, urging you to fall into the fluffy down of the bed with him. You follow reluctantly, too enamored by the sights to pay any real attention to how Pierre arranges your limbs to his liking, your head resting on his chest and your joined hands laying atop his stomach.

"How about that nap?" He murmurs, running the fingers of his free hand through your unbound hair. 

You sigh and snuggle in closer. It was rare that Pierre had the opportunity to steal moments like this during a race week, when he had nothing better to do than tangle himself in you.

"I'll tell you a story." 

Just as he expected, you leap at the offer. "Can you tell me the one about the time you and Charles got in trouble when you were karting?"

Normally he opts for something fictional that allows him to embellish the details to fit his narrative. Pierre loved spinning tales rife with laughter and intrigue but he also didn't mind indulging your curiosity.

"Yeah, I can tell that one. Let me set the scene. It's midnight on a Friday at a little track outside Rouen. Two gangly teenage boys, one French and one definitely, positively not French, have nothing better to do than get themselves in trouble…"

**********

Fans began whispering when Pierre set foot in the lobby. The price of stardom was high and had taken years to get used to. Some days the bombardment of people asking for photos and autographs overwhelmed him to the point he was desperate for an out. Most people respected his boundaries and when they sensed it was too much, they backed off. Other days it was simply too much and he would mumble excuses and book it out the door.

The pressure increases tenfold when he steps into the lobby with you on his arm, the pair of you dressed to the nines. He clocks a group of women- clearly tourists based on their body language- perched on a sofa the minute their low murmurs turn into excited squeals.

Pierre mentally braces for you to stiffen or stop altogether but you do neither. You carry on unaffected, either ignoring them or completely oblivious to the women who do nothing to hide their pointed stares.

"Table for two please." You smile at the restaurant host and then at Pierre. You must not have noticed the fans then. You were getting better at coping with the photos and whispers, although your smile usually became forced the longer it dragged on, the polar opposite of you currently beaming at him.

Pierre's shoulders sag a bit when you're led to a secluded table towards the rear of the dining space. Privacy wasn't a luxury he was often afforded. With his back to a wall of windows, there were fewer angles for people to approach from which was a small comfort.

Apparently you find sitting across from Pierre unacceptable because you shuffle your chair to his side of the table before plopping down in it. Pierre shoots you a questioning look but keeps his mouth shut. Inquiring after your motives didn't tend to end well for him.

Instead he leans over to kiss your cheek, relishing the blush his lips coax to the surface.

“It all sounds good,” you say, scanning the menu. “You’ve been here before, I take it?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I have. It’s all wonderful.” 

The fans from the lobby remain in the blurred fringes of his vision. Pierre does his best to focus on the waitress explaining the specials. He tunes in automatically to the fan’s heavily accented English as they argue with the host, vying for a table as close to Pierre as possible.

Their phones remain out as an annoyed waiter tries and fails to coax the gaggle of girls into ordering something. Pierre drags a hand through his hair.

Being the center of attention usually doesn't bother him. Coping with the spotlight and the scrutiny that accompanies it is second nature; if the press conferences at Spa in 2019 had taught him anything, it was the importance of a solid poker face. Fame is new to you though and interactions with polite fans make you nervous. Having your picture taken without permission and splashed on social media? Forget about it. Pierre didn't care to find out how you'd react.

"Don't be nervous." You lay a hand on Pierre's thigh. The touch is enough to temporarily pause his bouncing leg. "You're going to do amazing this weekend. All you have to do is finish in front of Checo and you're golden."

How you haven't noticed the girls giggling mere yards away is beyond him. The last thing he wants to do is ruin this perfect, beautiful moment of bliss. You look gorgeous with your painted lips and that sinful black dress that he doubts can be comfortable based on how it hugs your curves like water. To top it off, the pride in your gaze is something to behold, making it impossible to doubt himself when you so clearly and openly believe he can conquer the world.

But it's better to tell you now versus you finding out on social media later. "That's not what's bothering me."

"Oh?" You sit straighter and set the menu down. "What is it then? Because if it's Horner, I have no problem marching in there and chewing him out. Birdy will back me up."

Despite himself, Pierre can't hold back his smile. "Where did all this confidence come from, hmm?"

"I'm learning," you insist, nodding your head firmly. "I'm growing as a person and you should be proud."

"I never said I wasn't." Maybe you'd spent the last month at university interacting with racing fans on campus. Perhaps being exposed to endless questions in a setting you controlled was the key. "Did you take a course in confidence at university?"

You scrunch up your nose and laugh in the most adorable way. Pierre's heart lurches at the sight, regardless if it was him you were laughing at.

"No, but I did make a few new friends that have a habit of pestering me about you." You jab a finger in his side for good measure. "It helped, I think. I don't look for cameras as much anymore. You're my focus now, not paps that may or may not be lurking in bushes."

"I knew it." Pierre is slightly impressed that he'd hit the nail squarely on the head. "I figured there had to be someone at uni responsible for helping you out."

You shrug and purse your lips. "I guess we'll have to see how I handle this weekend. I mean, there's bound to be press trying to corner me, what with the stakes and all. But I think I can take them." You raise your fists in front of your face and Pierre has to laugh. 

“Throw a punch like that and you’ll break a finger.” He takes one of your clenched fists in his and untucks your thumb from under your fingers. “That’s how you make a proper fist. And you hit with these knuckles here- make sure you distribute the blow across all four, or you’ll be hurting.”

“Regardless,” you say, jabbing the air a few times, “The shock factor of having little old me in their face ought to be enough to earn me an advantage.”

Pierre finishes the lap to circle back to the topic at hand. "How about we test your confidence?” 

"Okay," you say, dragging out the 'a' until it hangs in the air between you like a spider's web. 

Pierre rakes a hand through his hair and nods to the girls a few tables away. "They've been taking pictures since we sat down. I'm sure they'll be all over Instagram in an hour, if they aren't already."

You steal a glance at the table in question under the guise of grabbing something from your purse. You hum, contemplating how to go about responding. Pierre is almost certain you'll ask to head back upstairs where it's just the two of you, no cameras or outside influence to ruin your night. His wallet is already out under the table, ready to leave a hefty tip for putting up with your drink-and-dash.

“We aren’t doing anything interesting,” you point out, swirling the knuckle’s worth of whiskey in your glass. “Why do they feel the need to document every passing second?”

Pierre lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s just what some people do. If you’re uncomfortable we can go.”

“Who said anything about leaving?” You scoff, the corners of your lips turned up in a teasing smile. “I figure the best course of action is to give them something worth photographing.”

“What do you-”

Pierre’s yelp is decidedly unsexy when you yank him forward by his tie and attach your lips to his. Caught entirely off guard, he flounders for a moment before he catches himself and sinks into you. One hand on your cheek and the other creeping up your thigh, Pierre slides his tongue over the seam of your lips. You don't hesitate to obey the silent command.

He should be embarrassed. He should be contemplating the consequences of this kiss being splashed across tabloids the world over. He can’t bring himself to care, not when you’re the only release he needs and something as simple as a kiss sets his skin alight and causes any sane thoughts to trickle from his head.

Nothing matters. You're kissing him and your hand is a few inches below his hip on his right thigh, burning a brand that he prays leaves a puckered pink scar. Your scent and your mouth and your unmistakable hiss of pleasure saps the worry from his limbs. He's floating up off his chair, lungs filling with helium as you steal every last molecule of oxygen from the room.

Just like that, Pierre is the one that's roaring to leave for an entirely different reason.

Your hand on his jaw keeps your lips a hair's breadth apart as you whisper, "Are they staring?"

A blissed out nod is all he manages. Thoughts evade him and speaking is utterly out of the question when your lips are within striking distance. He surges forward for another kiss, heavier on teeth than on tongue. He makes sure to hold your lower lip between his teeth longer than necessary, putting on a show now that you've given him permission.

"Pierre," you murmur, using the hand splayed on his chest to push him away. The whine that escapes him is wholly unintentional. Thankfully it's low enough that only you hear, pressing a finger to your sinful lips.

"Down, boy." You extricate his hand from the dimpled flesh of your hip and place it chastely in his own lap. "We've accomplished what I wanted to."

Saying you tossing a wink over your shoulder at the intrusive fans isn't the hottest thing he's ever seen would be a lie. Pierre needed to be sure to thank Daniel's girlfriend the next time he saw her for whatever the hell she said to finally bestow you with a healthy serving of self-assurance because this new you is an entirely different entity, one Pierre intends to explore at the next opportunity.

"Problem solved." You brush your hands together and Pierre half expects to see dust clouds in the air like you'd just finished a woodshop project. 

Pierre's brain is operating on a ten second delay. So really, normal operating procedure when he was in your vicinity. "I don't think we've accomplished everything I'd like to get done."

"We have a dinner to finish first." You pick up your menu and resume browsing like you hadn't just forcibly ripped his appetite for anything other than you right out of him. "The salmon sounds good, don't you think?"

"You sound good," Pierre mumbles under his breath and picks up his own menu. God, he'd love to let his fingers drift to the apex of your thighs. You’re always cute when you squirm. It was so simple to do too, all you needed was a brush of his knuckle to your center and you'd be gasping.

"Are you ready to order?"

The soft-spoken waitress bursts Pierre's bubble. She brings fresh drinks and jots down an order of two salmon fillets and leaves with a smile. 

How Pierre has managed to make it this long without fucking you is beyond him. From the moment you surprised him in the lobby, his limbs have been thrumming with energy. And now your surprise kiss had been the pebble that preceded an avalanche of feverish longing. Those red painted lips would look better wrapped around his-

The pointed toe of your shoe digs into his calf. "Quit staring."

"Either you let me daydream or you let me take you upstairs,” Pierre quips back, licking his lips before he can catch himself.

"Can we get through one date without you mentally undressing me?"

Pierre dips his grin in a vat of lust, his words dripping with waxy promise. "No. Not when I know that as soon as we're alone, you'll let me do what I want."

"And what about what I want?" Your pouted lip does absolutely nothing but push his mind further in the gutter. 

"Your wish is my command." His hand floats under the hem of your dress to graze along your core. And there it is, that sound he would swim across oceans to hear, your chastizing gasp of surprise. 

The cross way you whisper his name is a thing of dreams. No one else's name sounded like that on your tongue, that honor is reserved solely for Pierre. The two breathless syllables are more exhilarating than standing on the top step. The rush of adrenaline that accompanies them is ten times what he is rewarded with when passing a world champion on track. He'll give it all up to hear you repeat it when you're pissed or lonely or tired- he just wants your voice echoing in his ears like a broken record.

You move his hand a safe distance down your thigh, nearly at your knee. Pierre gives your leg a sharp squeeze. "Can we please get our dinner to go?"

"Not tonight. You can wait, mon amour."

The French rolls off your tongue awkwardly but Pierre will be the last to complain. Your encyclopedic knowledge of which buttons to press when had come back to bite him in the ass.

"That's not fair." His pout is a mirror image of the one you turned on him earlier. "You can't use my own language against me."

You pat your pockets as if searching for something and shrug when you come up empty. "I don't see a rulebook anywhere."

Reminding you what happens when you tease him shoots to the top of his to do list. "I'll play if you wanna play, ma chérie. Don't bite off more than you can chew."

"I think you're forgetting who usually wins off track."

Pierre can't help it. He takes advantage of his superior reflexes and surges forward to claim another searing kiss. You did normally win and it wasn't for lack of trying on his end. No matter the tactic he employed, you generally got the better of him. Not that he minded.

"Why don't you come here?" He purposely grazes his lips to your ear as he speaks and grins when a shiver runs down your spine. 

"Because we are in public," you hiss back, though the way your head tips to the side betrays you. Pierre's nose touches the underside of your jaw and you struggle to find your breath.

"We should eat." A self satisfied smile splits his face when he notices your heaving chest and wild eyes. 

"When did our food get here?" Pierre did that. He got you so worked up that you blocked out your surroundings so thoroughly that you hadn't heard the clink of plates. Pierre wears that fact like a badge of honor.

"A minute or so ago. Remind me again who's winning?"

"We may be even," you relent, adjusting the skirt of your dress. Yeah, even isn't the word he would pick, considering how flustered you are. It's a good thing Pierre has learned to eat with one hand because he doesn't plan on moving the arm currently slung over the back of your chair anytime soon. His finger traces the letters of his name on the bare skin of your shoulder. Whether you realize what he's writing or not you lean into him as you eat, falling in closer with each lemon-scented bite.

"Excuse me?"

You don't bother to look up but Pierre does. Disappointment washes over him when he is met by one of the fans, apparently deeming now to be the appropriate time to approach him, while clearly on a date, in the middle of a meal.

"I'll be happy to take a photo once I'm done." Sometimes passive aggressiveness works best with people like this, who have no regard for personal space. "Right now I would prefer to be alone, thanks."

"Oh, right." The blonde giggles, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "You two make a… cute couple?" The end of her sentence turns up and your fork falls to your plate.

Pierre tucks you a little closer to his side, both possessive and reassuring. "We know."

Your discomfort is plain, the way you curl in on yourself making his heart hurt. But you surprise him by taking a deep breath and turning to the woman with a smile. 

"If you'd let us finish our meal, I would appreciate it. We can stop by on our way out and chat with you." Sylvie would be proud of that answer. Diplomatically phrased and said with a smile that negates any negative connotations.

"Of course." The blonde's smile is sickly sweet. To Pierre she adds, "Good luck on Sunday."

Pierre nods. The woman's rude behavior didn't warrant a verbal response. She mumbles a feeble goodbye before slinking back to her friends. If nothing else at least their whispers died down, put out by his behavior. 

Pierre loves his fans. Without them he wouldn't have a sport to compete in, and of course he appreciated their endless support. Stopping for photos or autographs had gotten him in trouble with Marko multiple times for being late to meetings that usually turned out to be pointless anyway. As a whole, their enthusiasm gives him an extra boost on Sundays and lifts his spirits after a bad weekend.

And then sometimes there were people like the blonde woman that had interrupted his dinner. Those people he has far less tolerance for. Basic manners were imperative to Pierre giving someone the light of day, otherwise he saw no need to waste time and energy on them.

"All good, ma chérie?" Pierre rubs your shoulder, hoping it'll stave off any anxiety.

"I'm good," you confirm with a nod of your head. "Let's finish up and go to our room."

Pierre presses a kiss to your temple and scarfs down the remainder of his meal in record time. He flags down the waitress and hands her his card, leaving a substantial tip when she returns with the check.

“Can you distract that table?” Pierre asks, aware of how unusual the request likely is. “I’d like to get out of here without making a scene.”

“Of course,” the waitress says with a warm, sincere smile. Pierre waits until she loudly announces, “Excuse me? Your card has been declined, do you have another method of payment?”

Neither of you can contain your laughter as you stumble through the lobby. In the sanctity of the elevator, Pierre wraps his arms around your middle and molds himself against you. "You look especially gorgeous tonight."

"You're not too bad yourself." One of your hands finds the nape of his neck, guiding his face to the crook of your shoulder. Pierre takes the invitation at face value and nips at the sensitive skin. Your hum goes straight to his cock, twitching against the swell of your ass.

"I win," you purr, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging. 

For once Pierre is glad to be in the world's slowest elevator. Since he's already lost, he might as well lose in style. He spins you to face the mirrored wall. And because he knows it'll make you tremble, he trails his hand lazily over your throat to grip your jaw.

A low moan leaves your parted lips. Pierre studies your reflection, from your hands gripping the railing to the skin dimpling beneath his fingers. 

"Fine, you win this time. But I think you and I both know, I'll come out ahead in the end."

**********

Waking up to soft kisses will never get old. Thirty years from now when Pierre was retired and you fell asleep each night with his arms around you, you'd still yearn for the brush of his lips to your cheeks, neck, and shoulders to rouse you from the violet shores of sleep.

"Good morning," you mumble, a sentiment which Pierre echoes with his gruff, sleep tinged voice. "Sleep well?"

"Best sleep I've ever gotten. You tired me out last night." You both grin at the reminder. Fueled by a slight tinge of jealousy after the women at the restaurant made eyes at him, you had refused to let him tumble into bed until well past midnight, when you both were well and truly exhausted. Thursday is press day, nothing strenuous that he couldn't afford to be a little sore for.

Pierre rolls to straddle your hips, lips capturing yours for a proper kiss. The taste of freshly brushed mint makes your skin tingle when he tugs your lip between his teeth.

"It's too early for that." You throw your arms around his neck and urge him to bend his elbows until he falls atop you. It takes him a moment to snuggle in, his head on your chest and his arms sliding under your middle. 

You're convinced that ten minutes in this position can cure any ailments, physical or mental. The weight of your soulmate pressing into you, forcing you to focus on breathing instead of whatever might be bothering you. It's easy to forget about the outside world when everything you require to be happy is wrapped around you like a blanket.

You stroke a hand over Pierre's hair until his breathing evens out, only rousing him when the sun peeks over the harbor. Amiable silence fills the space as hues of orange and pink paint Pierre in swaths of color. Suddenly you're seeing him for the first time, completely enamored by the angles of his cheekbones and the sharp cut of his stubbled jaw. The golden hour of dawn shines on it's golden boy, his lashes brushing his cheeks as he turns towards the warmth calling him home.

"Pyry and I are going for a run soon if you'd like to come with us."

You cringe. Running used to be fun when you were in school, but seeing as you hadn't properly trained in years you doubted you could keep up with a pair of professionals. "How about you text me when you're back and I'll come to the gym with you? It looks fancy, if George's snaps are anything to go by."

Pierre trails kisses up your sternum, over your neck and only speaks once he's reached your lips. "Looking at other men, are you?"

"Shut up," you laugh, shoving him off you. "I'll have you know it was a rare shirt on picture, thank you very much. I don't need to see George shirtless ever again."

A satisfied, "Good," rumbles from Pierre's chest and he stands to stretch the lingering sleep from his limbs. Clad in nothing but a pair of white four inch inseam shorts and with his back to you, you grin as an idea forms. You scramble forward before he can process you moving and smack his ass so hard he yelps.

"Gotcha!" You devolve into a fit of giggles as he rubs the spot you hit, whining about you taking advantage of his distraction.

"You like it," you tease, and Pierre remains strictly pouty for two whole seconds before he breaks into a grin and nods. "Now put on a shirt and get downstairs before Pyry calls you and you get reamed for being late again."

Pierre leans down for one last kiss before rushing off to the lobby. Waking up before the sun leaves you plenty of time to laze about if you choose to. Kicking your butt into gear seems like the better option so you drag yourself out of the relative warmth of the sheets and shuffle to the kitchen in search of coffee. 

Apparently the suite came fully stocked with a handful of different freshly ground blends, and much to your delight you recognize one of your favorites. You scroll through the room service menu on your phone while it brews. Without a doubt Pyry would rope you in to whatever workout he had planned for Pierre, albeit giving you a watered down version of what he gave the driver. Regardless, it would still be grueling and you needed to fuel up.

A hearty breakfast of fresh fruit and cinnamon sugar oatmeal shows up at your door ten minutes later. You're just finishing up when Pierre's snapchat comes through and you nearly choke.

Come on down baby

The sweaty, shirtless selfie that accompanies the caption is wholly unnecessary. Pierre's stupid tongue sticks out and the fingers of one hand are tangled in his hair. The muscle of his bicep is perfectly flexed, an obvious but appreciated attempt to rile you up. You shamelessly screenshot the photo before it disappears to save it for later.

You change into a simple set of leggings and a loose t-shirt and head to the elevator, curating your music queue on the way down.

The outdoor gym overlooks a pool of the same crystalline blue as the sea not far beyond. A few Alpha Tauri and Red Bull team members you recognize occupy a handful of machines. You wave at the ones you recognize, including Alana- she was a sight for sore eyes. You make a mental note to catch up with her at some point today, as you're sure to cross paths again.

Pyry spots you before Pierre does and waves you over. "Start stretching," the fin orders, "I'm glad you dressed for the occasion this time."

"I've learned my lesson." You plop down next to Pierre and lean into a stretch to stage whisper, "He drives you this hard?"

"Get used to it." Pierre shoots you a grin that sets you on fire. He's got a shirt on now, which means he only took it off earlier to send you that snap. Tease.

Any other time you'd chide him for his behavior but this weekend you let it slide. Tension has been brewing since the moment you spotted him across the lobby; simple things tip you off to the stress winding up in him. If flirting could offer him a small amount of release, then so be it, even if it was torturous for you to see him like this and be unable to do anything about it.

"If you two can't get through this without making heart eyes at each other I'll separate you," Pyry warns, pushing at your shoulders and helping you stretch a few more inches. You hide your wince and laugh, leaning into the slight burn.

"Sorry coach," Pierre chimes in, "I'll keep my hands to myself, don't worry." He accepts Pyry's hand to be pulled to his feet. Bouncing on his toes he throws a few punches at the air and catches your gaze over his trainer's shoulder.

"Definitely not you I'm worried about."

As Pyry says it, you blow Pierre a kiss. You quickly tuck your hands behind your back when Pyry's head whips around. Your cheshire grin gets you off the hook and Pyry just points to the stationary bike in silent command. At least he was going easy on you.

Headphones pumping a Pierre curated playlist, you lose track of time as you cycle mile after mile. Pierre sparring on the fringes of your vision helps distract you from burning muscles. Sweat soaks his black tee and is absorbed by the waistband of his oddly patterned orange and white shorts. No matter how incessantly you tease him for his fashion choices, he never fails to amaze you for how well he pulls it all off.

Lost in the music and the incredible view, it takes you a moment to realize Pierre's lips aren't just moving silently. You yank out an ear bud and blubber, "What did you say?"

Pierre's breathless laugh is accompanied by a shake of his head. He half curls in on himself, hands on his hips and mouth agape as he tries to catch his breath. The image stirs memories of the last night, when he was panting just like that but with nothing obscuring you from drinking in his godlike muscled body.

"I said," Pierre starts, walking over to kiss your cheek, "I need a shower before press. I'm going upstairs. You can stay here and Pyry can take you through some more-"

"No thanks!" Pyry shrugs off your immediate refusal. Training top tier athletes and training you sat at polar opposite ends of the spectrum and often times the Fin pushed you farther than you thought capable. You'd like to be able to function tomorrow, thank you very much.

The elevator ride to the suite is filled with salted kisses and wet touches. A breadcrumb trail of clothing leads from the stainless steel doors to the glass encased shower. There's not enough time to worship Pierre like you'd wanted to but he sighs when you run a soapy cloth over his body. Your lips follow the suds, leaving light kisses to the tender muscles. By the time you pour shampoo in your palm and lightly scratch at his scalp to work it into a lather, he's practically purring.

Media appearances are a necessary part of being a driver. Pierre usually handled them well enough on his own and occasionally with Sylvie's help when she could be bothered to get off her phone for a few minutes, but having you with him is different. You pride yourself on reading him well enough to know exactly what he needs. Some days, when the press isn't a pack of rabid animals, he returns to his driver's room and needs nothing more than a quick kiss to have him righted. On days when the pack of piranhas descend to feast on the bones of a bad session or the whispering of drama, a delicate touch is required.

If your suspicion proves right, today would be the latter. Being ahead of the frenzy might take the edge off when Pierre got in the thick of it.

When the tap cuts off, you step out and wrap Pierre in a fluffy towel. His smile communicates how grateful he is- and that he knows what you're doing.

You hand him a stack of Alpha Tauri branded clothes and sit on the foot of the bed. "Do you want me to come to the paddock with you?"

Pierre pauses with his shirt half on. "If you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind." You pluck a few of his rings from the nightstand and hold out your hand. "You have to complete the look."

"What would I do without you," he murmurs, slipping one on his pinky and one on the thumb of his opposite hand.

"Probably be ridiculed for your lack of fashion sense."

**********

As a driver's girlfriend, you had come to grips with being relegated to a background role when it came to team events. You have to ask Sylvie to repeat herself twice before her words sink in.

"Come with me to the media pen," the woman grits out. Apparently Tost intended to have some fun torturing the woman before he fired her at the end of the season. Hopefully whoever Pierre got stuck with next was a bit more personable than Sylvie.

"Pierre told me to wait here," you say, gesturing to the garage buzzing around you. You were a rock and the mechanics were the stream, parting around you without a care in the world. You were barely a blip on their radar, everyone too honed in on their tasks to pay you any mind.

"And now I'm telling you to come with me. The other wives and girlfriends are in attendance and it'll look odd if you're not there too." Clearly, Sylvie didn't like the idea. And any idea that pissed Sylvie off sounded like a good one.

"I know the way," you say and breeze past her. Your feet follow the familiar path to the cluster of reporters crowded around metal gates, keeping the drivers in like caged animals. It was fitting, considering how often people referred to the sport as a traveling circus.

Pierre is already knee deep in an interview with one of the more popular journalists in the bunch, Will Buxton. Careful to stay out of the lens, you lean against the guardrail to listen in. So far it seems to be going well, Pierre's laugh brings a smile to your face.

"So, Pierre." Will shifts on his feet, pausing to create a sense of drama. "Your seat for next year. We know you'll be in Alpha Tauri or at Red Bull. Only a few points separate you from being demoted right back to eighth in the championship, which would officially relegate you to keep your seat at Alpha for the upcoming season. Are you worried about a mechanical problem or an accident stripping you of your chance to prove yourself and leaving you stuck where you are?"

Your stomach sinks. Buxton knew how to phrase a question, you had to give him that. Each word had been carefully chosen to elicit an emotional response from Pierre. You hate seeing him backed into a corner, forced to answer the same questions again and again, helpless to prevent it.

"Well first of all I'd like to stay that I'm not stuck at Alpha." Pierre shifts his weight and you exhale. Buxton's poisoned dart had missed its mark.

"Given a few years of development I know we could have a really competitive car. But it's more so that I'm ready to move up, fight with the leaders now instead of waiting. I'm in my prime and I don't want to let that pass me by.

"So no, I'm not worried about things that are out of my control. My team has given me an amazing car this year and I'm not concerned about mechanical problems. Things out of my control aren't worth my energy. There's nothing I can do about it so I don't even give it thought. I'll focus on my driving and pushing my limit- if an accident happens, I'm just a passenger."

"Well said." Buxton nods and turns away, effectively dismissing Pierre. As soon as he's out of the camera's view he's reaching for you and you meet him halfway. Sylvie trails after you as Pierre leads you through to the Alpha garage.

"Five minutes until your briefing," Alana says the second you enter. "And hey girl. Don't think I've forgotten about that sweater I loaned you. I still want it back!"

Your friend doesn't leave any room for rebuttal before heading for the conference room, presumably to set up whatever presentation she had created. Sylvie had disappeared too, leaving you as the only one for Pierre to focus on.

"You think I can do it?" He asks quietly, playing with your interlaced fingers.

"I don't think." You tilt his chin up so he's looking at you. "I know. And I'll be right here when you cross that line on Sunday and bring home points. You've got this, baby. Don't doubt yourself now."

"Pierre!"

Your grip on his chin prevents him from following the voice, not that he would if he could. You shoot him a raucous grin, "Red Bull colors would look pretty good on me, huh?"

Pierre's smile is brighter than all the stars in the sky. "Anything with my name on it will do.”

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @lu-morningstar @ggaslyp1 @swiftyhowlz @xeniarocks @teenwaywardasgardian @saintandrea-droidsmuggler​

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[twistedmusings]

A Midnight Prank

[Set during Chapter 5] 

Ace figured that if you were sleeping so peacefully in your bed while he had to spend a good portion of the night on the floor, why shouldn’t he try to get his revenge? A small midnight prank would be a good way to teach you about leaving him laying on the floor like that~ 

Warnings: Lime. Very mild somnopholia and food play with Ace slowly starting to realize that he might have taken a prank a bit too far. 

A/N: What better way to start this writing blog than to reveal myself as an Ace stan. I barely blinked when I first started with this game but the moment he popped up in Ghost Marriage I guess my eyes just suddenly saw the light because this boy has such yan possibilities as well as being a tease about everything. So enjoy this self indulgent drabble, I’ll see if I write more like these ò uó. 

“Oh Great Sevens…my back.”

Ace stands up and stretches, looking down at his best friend’s and Grim’s position on the floor. Of all the things Vil could do, poisoning the food? 

Well not really poisoning but cursing the food? Who the hell cursed food? Especially Trey’s baked goods?! It was a late-night snack, a team bonding exercise! To him, Ramshackle was the place he could get away with being himself without having to follow Riddle’s sometimes ridiculous rules! Yet he had just spent the good half of the night laying on the cold, hardwood floor with Deuce and Grim like some punished first year despite the fact that he was best friends with the prefect of this dorm! 

And speaking of you. 

He glares at the stairs, remembering the helpless look you had sent him as you went upstairs with Vil following short after. You, better than anybody, knew how the floors of Ramshackle were! If you had been laying on the floor paralyzed, Ace would have brought you at least a pillow!

 Maybe!

A grin spreads on his face as his brain plans out a pretty simple prank. He goes over to the chocolate cake he had taken a bite out of and scoops up some of the whipped cream frosting the cake was lavishly decorated with , grinning as he grabs  a napkin and makes his way upstairs.

“This is for betraying the First Year Loyalty Pact, [Y/N]. Get ready to get yelled at, dear manager~”

His steps are quiet on the stairs, knowing where each and every creak would be in the old, wooden stairs. It had been a while since he had pulled a prank on you, the both of you teaming up to pull pranks on others and quickly running away as soon as the plan was executed. A part of him always thought that you, the favourite of Riddle whenever you came over to Heartslabyul, would not be as on board with his pranks but seeing you come up with your own little plans as both of you hid away from your rose garden duties was unexpected and highly welcomed.

Your excited tone, the way you moved your hands. It would get Ace riled up and ready to execute absolutely anything under your orders. 

Cater had described him as being 'whipped' but Ace didn't even know what that meant so jokes on the upperclassmen, he supposed. 

He snickers as he gets to your door, praising the Queen of Hearts that it was only ajar instead of fully closed. Ace had gone over a few scenarios in his head, maybe covering your entire face with the frosting or putting the frosting on your hand while tickling your nose so that you would slap yourself. Nothing too big since he still wanted to keep his friend status with you. 

Yet his best idea had popped up once he reached the side of your bed, looking down at you sleeping so peacefully. 

"Not for long~" 

If he took a peek at the clock he could see that it was three in the morning. He guessed that Vil's curse lasted around four hours. Practice started at eight so they would usually be awake around six thirty to eat a meager breakfast and start walking to Pomefiore-- 

Which meant that if you happened to take a bite out of this delicious frosting that he held in his finger, you would wake up unable to move and miss the entirety of breakfast altogether. He would also add the extra bonus of closing your door so you would have to scream for someone to come get you. 

"Essentially two birds with one stone, right [Y/N]?" he sits down at the edge and leans over you, "Your screaming will piss Vil off so much, probably throw him off his whole morning routine. Heh, even in this scenario you are my partner in crime…" 

Ace moves to trace the chocolate on your lips, a smile on his face as he wonders just what words you would be yelling out first thing in the morning. After this maybe he should go set up his camera to record Vil lecturing you while you were stuck in your bed. 

Ah. 

His fingers weren't moving. Why weren't his fingers moving? 

"Haha...ha. O-Okay, I got this. [Y/N] say 'ahh'." 

A warm hand cupped your face as he used the one not holding the sweet confectionary, pressing his thumb against your lips and swallowing down the rather huge lump in his throat as it slowly made its way past them. Ace pressed down lightly, your mouth parting slowly as his nail scraped against the top of your teeth which allowed him to press down and watch as your mouth parted open for him. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

He was sweating, why was he sweating? A normal prank would have him smiling as adrenaline rushed through his body but this wasn't the kind of rush he was expecting. 

Ace was nervous. 

Thumb pressing against your tongue, he stopped his exploring there and not daring to go another step. He remembers back in his dating days during middle school, his girlfriend always insisted on doing the 'cutesy' thing and feeding each other. Strawberries, cotton candy, anything that was just cheesy and picture perfect enough to make him sigh in annoyance. Back then it had all just been a bother. 

But with you, why was it making him feel so--

"Augh!" 

Ace pulls his finger away, your lips still parted slightly as he grabbed his hand as if it was burned. 

Come on Trappola! What the hell is wrong with you!

You! You with your soft lips, warm tongue and inviting face that looked so so peaceful while sleeping. As if nothing would wake you! Just leaving the door open so anyone would come in and take advantage of the opportunity right before them. 

The infamous prefect of Ramshackle...looking so defenseless. 

"[Y/N]." 

Ace leans over you once again, the finger covered in chocolate this time making its way past your lips with no shame as his eyes seem to glaze over with unprecedented confidence. This was all for the sake of a good prank. Hell, he should one up it and sleep next to you tonight. You would wake up to Ace looking over you, unable to move as he teases you for not noticing his presence sooner. 

"You should really lock your door at night." he shivers when he feels your tongue lapping at his finger, "Otherwise next time I'll have to pull an even naughtier prank." 

He presses down on the slimy muscle, eyes widening when he starts getting a reaction. His finger moves up and down, tracing your tongue as your body starts to slowly respond to the attention of something sweet teasing your tastebuds. 

"Mmnnn." 

The chocolate was all gone when Ace pulled his finger back, licking his lips as he saw a faint trail of drool connecting his finger to your lips. You should have the taste floating in your mouth as your body slowly took in the curse. 

Ace barely notices himself panting until he takes a deep breath, fingers toying with the sheets covering your body as he leaned in ever closer. Maybe he should check? After all he wanted to prank you so good that you wouldn't forget about it. The thought making you squirm and open your mouth, begging him to put something inside-- 

"Ace?" 

Blood nearly rushes all the way back up to Ace's head as he hears Grimm's voice, the little creature looking at him tiredly as it floated towards him. 

"G--Grimm?! What--!" 

"My tail and ears hurt! I can't believe [Y/N] just left us there. When they wake up I'm going to--" 

Grimm yawns as he makes his way over to you, gently laying on your chest as the Heartslabyul student quickly stands up and makes his way through the door. He doesn't waste any words on saying good night as he steps out into the hall, gently shutting the door behind him and sliding down to the floor. 

What the hell did I just do? 

He looks at the finger that had done the act, staring at it as if it had a mind of its own. Your mouth had been so warm and now his entire body felt cold. Anf you weren't even aware that you had just left him feeling like this! 

Ace sighs as he runs a finger through his hair, standing up and making his way downstairs to check if Deuce has woken up. 

Not necessarily noticing how he bit at the top of the finger that had become so intimate with you. 

                                                        ~~~~~

Omake 

"Kalim? It's four in the morning why the hell are you awake?" 

Ace blinks as he supports a sleeping Deuce, the other still snoring away as Kalim smiles and places a finger to his lips. 

"I'm going to see if I can sneak in a cuddle with [Y/N]. Grimm mentioned how warm they were yesterday and I've been curious ever since!"  

"Oh, cool. Have fun then." 

The Heartslabyul student keeps walking as the Scarabia dorm leader opens the door to your room, whispering a goodnight. It was only when he heard the click of your door did he nearly drop his fellow student. 

"WAIT WHAT?" 

[guacameowle]

Jumin Han’s Bad End 2 DLC - Notes / Opinion

Y’all know me. I have to take notes for everything I play or read or watch. I can’t help it. Here we have Jumin Han’s Bad End 2 DLC. The infamous bad end. The red shoes bad end. The “kinky” bad end, to some. Not my favorite bad end, but a memorable one. With that said, let’s dive in! Spoilers ahead!

Episode 1

This DLC has multiple endings! Interesting. Depending on how I answer will determine which end I get. This has me thinking there may be a way to get Jumin back onto a healthier relationship track? I will eventually aim to achieve both endings, though.

Jumin’s hand is fucking HUGE. MASSIVE. WHAT ARE THEY FEEDING HIM? Please hold while I scream at Kristan (jalaqueeno) about this. Holy shit.

It’s been one month since Jumin went to work. One whole month! Mr. Jumin Workaholic Han hasn’t gone to work in ONE MONTH! This man has made it his sole mission to keep you locked up & stay with you. Dude, like… why are you so obsessed with me~?

MANSION? They’re not in the penthouse anymore? I mean… there are worse cages to be kept in.

I am absolutely playing the answers that subtly suggest I am not ok with this new forced live-in situation.

HE’S TRACKING HOW MANY STEPS I’VE TAKEN. Wait until this man finds out I hate walking the mile…

Jumin continues to call this a game. Says he has a therapist on standby. Does he know that HE can use the therapist? In fact, I highly recommend it.

He says you can leave at any time. Color me suspicious. I don’t believe him for one second. How far is this “game” going?

MY PRECIOUS BABY DARLING SWEETIE PIE TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD WHOLESOME BEAUTY PERFECT CUPCAKE ELIZABETH 3RD HAS ARRIVED!

According to Jaehee, MC has been with Jumin for two months now.

Interesting how Jaehee makes a point to mention the mansion being untouched as this is where Jumin keeps his childhood toys. He brought you where he keeps his toys. Does he really see all of this as a game & you’re a toy? Can he snap out of it if you call for the game to end, or will there be backlash?

Some of these answer choices feel tricky. I’m trying to gently weasel my way out of this “game” without hurting anyone.

“Don’t say that to my master.” Listen, Jumin is my favorite man in this game, but that answer option physically made me cringe. Me? Call a man master? I could never. Not me. Not this bitch.

Wow. Ok. All this stuff with Jumin’s mom is moving fast. I can already see if he actually does lose her, it may make him hold onto MC that much more/harder. Maybe. 

Woah woah woah. I know Jumin is acting a little suspicious & out of sorts, BUT AIN’T NO ONE MARRYING HIM EXCEPT ME. ALL RIGHT? I’ll fight. I know where to get a bomb…

Excuse me? A fitness trainer? Yeah........ about that. I’m going to have to leave. Sorry this situation didn’t work out between us Juju. Best of luck, though!

Episode 2

My room is kind of cute! Wait, why the fuck aren’t Jumin & I sharing a room? If I’m locked up & tracked, you better believe I’m sleeping next to that dick.

Send a message to space? The fuck?

Oh. Duh.

“I heard that obsession comes from anxiety.” DING DING DING DING.

Omg Seven. You can’t just ask me to open my box. I’m seeing another man...

LONG HAIRED JUMIN?????

Jumin really didn’t have one woman in his life who wasn’t cold or weird to him. I know we already knew from his route he had a difficult upbringing. But I hadn’t expected them to dive into that aspect for this DLC but I can see how there’s the connection.

I told him I wanted to be alone to see if he’d respect boundaries.

OH SHIT THAT CHAPTER ENDED SO QUICK. DID I FUCK UP?!

Episode 3

So are we meant to see this adult Jumin, playing this “game” with MC, as him regressing within himself & falling back to enjoying fantasy? Avoiding reality? Something he didn’t allow himself to do as an actual child? He didn’t understand why people indulge in magic, fantasy, make-believe as a kid. Now he’s vastly overshot the mark to the point that this fantasy life with MC has become his “reality.”

DO NOT GIVE THIS BABY BOY WINE, I SWEAR TO GOD.

Omg. Little Jumin is so cute. I will fight everyone to protect him.

This woman done fucked up. Look at this child, you’ve given him anxiety. He doesn’t know if you want him to be mechanical or a normal kid. Jesus. All this Work Work Work No Emotion Work Only No Feelings bullshit is her fault. Jumin’s only doing what he was taught. He was told this is all he’s good for, all he was meant for.

“I feel like I am a tool. Sometimes I want to be treated like a son.” STOP. IF THIS GAME MAKES ME CRY. I’M GONNA FIGHT SOMEONE.

IF Y’ALL DON’T GIVE THIS LITTLE BOY THE LOVE & AFFECTION & CARE HE DESERVES

Jumin is obsessed with grape juice. Grows up to be obsessed with wine. Y’all made him an alcoholic.

“I am not like her. I will not be cold. I will be warm to my family…” JUMIIIIIN. THIS LITTLE BOY IS TRYING SO HARD! IT IS POSSIBLE JUMIN! AIM FOR YOUR GOOD & NORMAL ENDINGS!

SLEEPY JUMIN HAN CG

OH FUCK

OH FUCK ME

OH HELLO HUSBAND GODDAMN YOU LOOKIN’ CUTE AS FUCK

LET ME HOLD YOU JUMIN. YOU DESERVE TO BE LOVED & HELD & CARED FOR!

I think you have to choose the answers that gently pry you away from Jumin? He can’t force this relationship. It can’t be controlled by him. It isn’t a game. He needs to come to that realization, but he’s really not making that connection...

“I have never been involved in a deal outside a form of give-and-take.” Oh, that hurt. He doesn’t trust you to stay with him unless he can offer you something? His money/extravagance/keeping you in this “game” you started with him & him playing into it is what he has to do to keep you with him.

“Please show me that you love me. I want to know what love is.” Insert Explicit MC x Jumin Fanfic Here. I’ll show you, Jumin. I’ll show you all night long.

*Jumin snuggled closer* In my own personal canon, that means we FUCKED. SLOWLY. GENTLY. ROMANTICALLY.

Episode 4

The creepy lullaby music started up. Shit is about to go down.

Omg is this butler going to lock me in the basement?

Lmao did I fuck up with the “what’s a cage doing here?” reply? How was I supposed to know there wasn’t actually a cage there? No Jumin, I don’t want a cage. …. at least not for me, but we can discuss that later.

SHE WOULD LOCK HIM IN THE BASEMENT? That’s it. I’m fighting everyone. Stay behind me Jumin, I’ll protect you.

“Let me talk to her! I’d like a word with her!” LET ME AT HER, JUMIN. I HAVE SOME SHIT TO SAY. SHE’S DYING. I HAVE A SHORT WINDOW. LET ME AT HER.

Not little boy Jumin Shawshank Redemptioning his way out of the basement omggggg

JUMIN YOU WANNA FUCK? NOW? This man is sending me through whirlwind of emotions.

OH SHIT. I’m torn between the “whisper in his ear” option or the “let’s change our roles for just today” because as y’all may know, I enjoy being in charge.

Me: “Let’s change our roles…” Jumin: “Uhhh maybe we should leave.” Darling, you know you’re a submissive. It’s ok. No judgement.

FADE TO BLAAAAACK. THEY FUCKIN’.

I’M HOOTIN’ & HOLLERING. After the fade the black I said I would stay in my own clothes & Jumin says, “They’re dirtier than you would think.” DID THIS MAN JUST CUM EVERYWHERE? LMAAAOOOO

Happy End!

Ayyy we did it, lads! Unlocked the happy ending first. Even though we already gave Jumin a happy ending in that basement, you know what I’m sayin’~

LMFAOOOOO JUMIN STILL CAN’T DRIVE LMFAOOOO

Wait, turned our backs on everything? How the fuck is this the happy end? Happy for who? Jumin?

So… what the fuck was that?

The good ending just reenforces this “only us” narrative? The good ending is that this “game” Jumin & MC are playing doesn’t end? Nothing resolves. He doesn’t mend any relationships. There’s no healing or moving on. He exerts more of his control on MC & takes more drastic measures to ensure they’re together.

WAIT. DID WE JUST FUCKING ABANDON ELIZABETH 3RD TOO? ABSOLUTELY NOT. THIS ENDING SUCKS. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? FUCK THAT. PISS OFF, JUMIN HAN. I WON’T HAVE THAT BULLSHIT. YOU DID NOT JUST TURN INTO A PET ABANDONER RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FUCKING FACE. I HATE IT. NO. I’M OUT.

The CG was hot, though. Jumin in black on black on black? AND GLOVES?! Hell yeah. That’s a whole meal right there. Delicious. 

Episode 1 (Attempt 2)

Well, time to try to get the bad end (????) now I guess. Maybe the bad end is that this game of their’s actually does break. That’s what I’m hoping for at least.

Jumin already making jokes about switching roles. Jumin, my love. I am more than happy - extremely willing & eager actually - to be in charge here.

Pretending to want all of this ‘being a possession’ nonsense is making me uncomfyyyy.

Episode 2 (Attempt 2)

“Do something Jumin wouldn’t like” Lmaooo it calls Zen. HAHAHAHAHA

I think Zen’s voice acting is some of the most expressive, in this whole game.

Ah, so then I guess turning on the computer let’s you talk to Yoosung.

Not Jumin deliberately cutting my call. The audacity.

Jumin, possessiveness can sometimes be cute. But in this case, I’m not having it. Not interested.

All the toys in the world didn’t keep Jumin entertained. BUT THIS PUSSY DOES.

Episode 3 (Attempt 2)

Flew through that one just choosing the options I didn’t choose before. Didn’t seem to glean any new information except the fact that Jumin no longer has a desire to form a family, says it entirely depends on how badly MC wants a family. Continues that narrative of, if MC wants it, he will provide it... to keep her.

Episode 4 (Attempt 2)

So we’re just going to leave gold bars in that safe?

Happy End Again????

It says I got Happy End again, even though I chose entirely different answers & went along with being Jumin’s possession...

OH WAIT, IT IS DIFFERENT!

I can’t believe my first meeting with Jumin’s mother is after he rawed me in the basement & had me put on a fantasy fairy tale princess dress to make our escape. Omfg. Ma’am, your son’s cum is still dripping out of me, please give me a few minutes to freshen up first. Goddamn.

Jumin’s mom is named Carolyn!

I can’t believe I’m in the middle of a family argument while Jumin’s cum glues my thighs together.

She ain’t sick. She’s lying. I’m calling it.

“Simple - make him soft” Jumin: “Like mashed potato?” LIKE MASHED POTATO? FIRST OF ALL, JUMIN SAYING ‘MASHED POTATO’ IS SO FUCKING CUTE I WANNA SCREAM. Secondly I meant, make him soft as in help him let down some barriers & let people in.

“I heard sons are psychologically bound to be attracted to women reminiscent of their mothers.” Ok yes, that may be true but you don’t have to remind me. Bleh. Stop.

“If my consort is to leave me one day, I will be scarred for the rest of my life.” I am sad for him. So sad.

ONE BILLION, TO BREAK UP WITH JUMIN? WOMAN, YOU ARE SOMETHING ELSE.

The “mind if I touch it” option fucking sent me. I’m laughing so hard. It is 1am. I might wake up my neighbor! I chose the “…..” option though. I’m sticking with Jumin through this. Let’s see what happens.

… I’ll loop back & choose the money if I can though to see what chaos occurs.

“This is exactly what people mean when they say, ‘So not cool.’” JUMIN. NOW IS NOT THE TIME LMFAOOOO

Jumin went back to work. All right, that’s progress. He renovated the basement on a happier note. Ok ok, small progress. 

“Now I wish to paint this entire place with our love.” TIME TO CHRISTEN EVERY ROOM WITH SEEEEX

THAT CG!!!!! AAAHHHHHHH!!!! WOW WOW WOW WOW WOW WOW WOW WOW!!!!!!

Looping back to choose more options for this episode...

CALLED JUMIN’S MOM AN OLD HAG & JUMIN LIKED WHEN I DID THAT LMAOOOO. I would like to call her a lot of things.

Final thoughts:

Long story short (too late), this DLC reenforces that this is a Bad Ending path, in which you won’t find a fix for Jumin, won’t find a way to get him back on track to his true good end. And that’s ok! This is a bad end after all! Though both endings are listed as “good” or “happy” endings, they’re still set in this twisted relationship, this weak form of love, Jumin believes is real. He calls it a game, says a therapist is on standby, says MC can leave any time she wants, yet when she chooses options that distances herself, suggests Jumin pay more attention to something other than her, or shows she’d like more freedom, he immediately blocks that path in some way. Even when choosing all the options that don’t give in to the plaything/being controlled role, the conclusion is Jumin reenforcing his control harder - you both escape together to be alone, neglecting everyone & everything in your life, & Jumin insists all he has to do is take care of you in various ways - to give you everything - to keep you with him. Even following the confrontation with Jumin’s mother & turning down the option to leave Jumin for money, it shows how far Jumin will go to keep MC. He truly believes he has to provide everything (money, security, possessions, etc.) in exchange for her love, her company, her willingness to be with him. This man has slowly been broken over & over again over the course of his life & he’s finally given in to these poor teachings & selfish encouragements, & has convinced himself what he’s found is full love where he provides anything & everything to keep MC’s interest in him. A clear give & take relationship. A contract. A game. And he’s not about to let that go.

Personally, while this path isn’t my favorite for Jumin, I was still absolutely impressed with the two different ways they had this particular Bad End play out. An emotional read from start to finish & back again.

[ming-yu-hao]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder | Chapter 2

Pairing: fratboy!mingyu x female reader, some wonwoo x reader

Word Count: 6k

Synopsis: When you transferred to a different university, you and Wonwoo promised that you would make long distance work. But distance proves to be more difficult than you both originally thought.

This Chapter’s Tags: cyber sex lol, angst, CHEATING, grinding, oral (female receiving and male receiving), fingering, mingyu is just sweet and it makes me sad, kinda fluff?

Warning: THIS SERIES IS ABOUT CHEATING. DO NOT READ IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

A/N: i really self indulged on this one... man i just wanna fuck frat boy mingyu is that too much to ask... anyways PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS CHAPTER I PUT A LOT MORE TIME INTO THIS ONE so feedback would be very appreciated <3

Chapters: Previous | Next | Masterlist

Sunlight peeked through your blinds the next morning, stirring you awake. You opened your eyes and snapped them shut again as the glare of the sun blinded you. Yawning, you reached for your phone and squinted at the pile of unread messages from Jisoo that had built up over the span of last night.

Jisoo: omg what u were here for like 2 seconds :(

Sent at 10:49 PM

Jisoo: i hope u feel better babe

Sent at 10:49 PM

Jisoo: wait

Sent at 10:50 PM

Jisoo: did something happen with wonwoo

Sent at 10:50 PM

Jisoo: i swear if he's mad at you for being a normal college student...

Sent at 10:50 PM

Jisoo: bitch answerrrrr :(

Sent at 10:53 PM

Jisoo: i'm staying the night somewhere i hope ur feeling okay <3 pls update me when u wake up

Sent at 12:06 AM

You laughed under your breath as you realized that it was 10 AM and Jisoo's side of the room still remained empty. From how last night was going, you could only assume that she was somewhere with Seungcheol. Classic Jisoo, you thought to yourself.

Just as you sat up in bed, your phone vibrated with another notification. You glanced down, expecting another text from Jisoo, but your eyes lit up as you saw Wonwoo's name on the screen instead.

Wonwoo: good morning :) do you wanna facetime?

Sent at 10:27 AM

Without replying, you quickly opened up your laptop and called Wonwoo. He answered after a few rings, his face filling the screen for the first time in a month.

"That was fast," He laughed. He must had just woken up because his voice always had a distinct rasp in the morning. His glasses also still rested on his nose and you could see his bare chest at the edge of the frame.

You smiled warmly. "I've missed you," you said, leaning closer to the camera.

"I missed you too," he gave you a toothless smile and ran a hand over his face. "I'm sorry I kept ditching you."

You shook your head. "No, it's okay. I understand."

You stared at him for a moment, neither of you speaking; you almost didn't know what to say. After all this time, you felt like you didn't know anything that was going on in his life anymore. It was tearing at you slowly. You were watching your own boyfriend become a stranger to you.

Luckily, Wonwoo broke the silence. "What are you doing?" He asked.

You shrugged. "I just woke up. I need to shower."

He raised his eyebrows at you suggestively and chuckled. "Oh?"

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes as you snickered. Wonwoo rested his arm behind his head and smirked at you.

"Can you blame me? I haven't been inside you in so long." He groaned. You felt your face burn at his bluntness. You looked down at your hands, and he must have noticed your embarrassment because he quickly asked, "Your roommate isn't there, right?"

"No," you replied, gazing back up at his face.

"Why're you so shy?" He grinned devilishly.

"I'm not," you protested. You began to toy with the bottom of the big tee shirt you were wearing.

Wonwoo sighed loudly. "I'm horny."

"I can tell." You replied with a chuckle. You slowly pulled the hem of your shirt up farther until your underwear could be seen. Wonwoo noticed this, biting his lip.

"Fuck," he breathed, "I miss your tight little pussy." Your skin heated up with each word he spoke. You watched as he removed his arm from behind his head; your mind instantly filled with images of him stroking himself. "Touch yourself for me." Wonwoo demanded.

Without a word, you leaned back against your pillows and slowly spread your legs for the camera. The wetness between your thighs was so intense at this point that your underwear was clinging to your folds.

Wonwoo let out a deep groan as he touched himself off camera. Your skin flushed even further as you watched his face contort in pleasure. "Take off your shirt," he muttered.

You obeyed, pulling the fabric over your head and leaving yourself mostly exposed. Your breasts bounced in view of the camera as you leaned forward and pulled your underwear down your legs. Wonwoo moaned, his head leaning back and exposing the veins in his neck. "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum already."

You giggled and leaned back against the pillows again, this time exposing your nude body to him. You dragged your hand down to your heat and began to run your fingers through your folds. You let out a whine at the long-awaited contact. Your other hand squeezed at your breast, stimulating your sensitive nipples.

"Shit," Wonwoo hissed, "If I was there I'd be fucking you so hard. Making you moan my name for everyone to hear." You felt yourself clench at his filthy words. You bit your lip and rubbed your clit in circles.

"Mmh, shit." You moaned. "I miss you so much. Miss feeling your cock inside me." You heard Wonwoo's breathing grow heavier on his end of the line. You could tell he was going to cum soon. You pushed two fingers inside you, desperate to release.

Curling and scissoring your fingers deep inside you, intense pleasure began to take over your body. You threw your head back and whined loudly as you felt your orgasm approach. "Wonwoo," you moaned.

Wonwoo let out a choked moan at the sound of you moaning his name. "Fu- I'm cumming," he stuttered as he finally released.

You continued to pump your fingers inside of you while Wonwoo started to slow his breathing again. "Cum, baby," he said. You brought your other hand down to your clit and rubbed it in figure eights. Your legs twitched with pleasure, your walls clenching and pulsing around your fingers.

You cried out as your orgasm finally washed over you, your head falling back against the pillows behind you. You kept your eyes closed for a few seconds as you basked in the pleasure. Your heavy breathing began to calm.

When you opened your eyes, you saw Wonwoo wiping his hand with a tissue. He glanced at you and smiled. "Now that," he whistled as he laid back down against his mattress, "was unbelievably hot."

Your cheeks burned and you reached for your shirt to pull back over your head. "We should do that more often," he said.

You laughed. "Maybe."

Wonwoo sat up after a moment. "What time is it?" He asked.

You glanced at the clock. "Almost 11."

He groaned in frustration. "Fuck, I have to go. I have a group study soon."

"Oh," you replied.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly as he rose out of bed. "I'll call you Saturday, okay? I love you." You nodded silently.

"I love you too," you said right as he ended the call.

And then you were left alone, with sweat sticking to your skin and your soaked underwear balled up next to you. You shut your laptop and sat in silence for a few moments, staring out the window as you felt disappointment settle over you.

That was the first time you had seen his face in a month. Hell, that was the first full conversation you two had shared in so long. And it was over as quickly as it had begun.

Anxiety coursed through your veins. Was that all you had become to your boyfriend now? Just a number that he could call when he wanted to get off? Were you no longer someone he confided in?

You shook yourself out of your worried thoughts. Finally, you stood and walked over to the bathroom, your legs still a little weak beneath you, and turned the shower water on.

You stared at yourself in the mirror while you waited for the water to heat up. Your mind flashed with images of last night—of Mingyu staring down at you, his lips nearly brushing against yours, and the sound of you moaning his name.

You had told yourself that it had only affected you because you missed Wonwoo. Then how were you still left feeling unsatisfied after what just happened between you two?

Things were not the same as they once were, you noted as you stepped under the stream of hot water.

When you walked into your digital media class on Tuesday morning, you were hyperaware of each little movement you made. You kept your gaze fixated on the ground and carefully trotted up the stairs until you reached the row you always sat in. Glancing up, you saw Mingyu through the corner of your eye, his attention captured by his phone.

The sound of you setting your bag down was enough to pull him away from his device and look over at you. You sat down and stared forward, refusing to make eye contact with him. Your face started to burn in embarrassment; you didn’t know how you were going to make it through this class.

“Hey, I’m sorry about Saturday,” he paused, “I was drinking and I didn’t know what I was doing.” He said, breaking the silence. You forced yourself to finally look at him. He was back in his usual state: clean, pushed back hair and muscles concealed by his hoodie. You could see genuine remorse in the shine of his eyes and in the slight pout of his lip.

You shook your head. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.” You reassured him. His troubled expression seemed to lighten up a bit at your words. He gave you a small smile and nodded his head.

“Good. Otherwise this class would’ve been a lot more awkward.” He chuckled and returned his attention to his phone.

You observed him for a minute, noticing the way he chewed on his bottom lip in concentration. Your body flushed again as you thought about his lips: how close they were to yours, the words they whispered to you, how you imagined they would feel against you skin. You tore your gaze away from Mingyu, your heart beating a little faster than before.

You needed to get a grip. There was no way you were going to make it through the rest of this semester if you spent every class getting flustered while reminiscing your half-asleep-wet-dream-fantasy of Mingyu.

Sighing and choosing to ignore the pressing thoughts in the back of your mind, you pulled out your laptop and buried yourself in your notes until the professor strolled into the room and began the lecture.

You managed to successfully ignore Mingyu’s presence for most of the class, despite him sitting only a few feet to your side. You were only reminded of his existence again when your professor announced: “We will be working on a project for the next week. Everybody needs a partner.”

You and Mingyu glanced at each other, as the two of you normally collaborated on assignments in class. He nodded and gave you a thumbs up before you returned your attention to the professor.

“You will write two articles on events or people in the community. For the first, one of you will write and the other will be responsible for photography. For the second, you switch.” He explained briefly.

The lecture came to an end a few minutes later, and the room instantly started buzzing with conversation as students stood up and scrambled to find partners. You turned to Mingyu and gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“I guess I should get your number so we can talk about the project?” Mingyu suggested, pulling out his phone.

“Uh... yeah, okay,” You replied awkwardly as you typed your number into his phone. You cursed yourself internally for letting this happen. This class used to be fun: you and Mingyu casually talked and exchanged answers and cracked jokes with each other and that was that. You didn’t know much about his life, and you didn’t need to. Hell, you didn’t even know he was part of a fraternity. But now that was all ruined. You couldn’t even look at him without feeling small and awkward. And all of this was to blame on some cheap alcohol and your stupid hormones.

You pulled yourself out of your thoughts as you handed Mingyu’s phone back to him. “So, do you have any ideas?” You prompted.

Mingyu’s face contorted as he thought for a moment. “Um, my frat’s doing some charity event this week,” he said. When you didn’t respond for a moment, he panicked and added, “I don’t know if it’s a good idea. We can just-“

“It’s perfect.” You cut him off, snickering at his uncertainty. “Since you know more about it, you can write that one, and I can come and take pictures.” Relief flooded his features and he let out a breath. “When is it?” You asked.

“Thursday.”

“I’ll see you there, then,” you smiled.

The next day passed quickly and before you knew it, the evening of the fundraiser had arrived. You and Mingyu had texted casually the past couple of days; he just gave you details on the fundraiser and tried to come up with an article idea for you.

You strolled through campus on that Thursday afternoon, wrapping your denim jacket around your torso a little tighter as a chilled breeze blew through the air. The brisk atmosphere of late autumn was finally starting to settle in. You quickened your pace, wanting to reach the university quad before you froze.

As you neared the quad, you could hear distant chatter and laughter. You rounded the corner and took in the view of the surprisingly large crowd that gathered near the booth the SVT frat had set up. They were having a raffle for a voucher for free textbooks. Whoever came up with the idea was genius; you couldn’t think of a better way to get broke college students to participate in something.

You walked up to the booth, camera bag in hand, and immediately recognized the boy sitting behind it. It was Seokmin. His eyes lit up as he saw your familiar face. “Hey! Y/N, right?” He greeted you. You told him yes and smiled before greeting him back.

“Do you know where Mingyu is?” You asked, scanning over your shoulder for the tall boy.

Seokmin squinted as he stood up and looked around the quad. “Uh, he was somewhere around here earlier.” He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “He’s probably off being an idiot.” You laughed and fiddled with the camera in your hands.

Just as you were about to ask if you could take a picture, someone shook your shoulders from behind. “Y/N! What are you doing here?” Jisoo bounced in front of you, Seungcheol by her side.

“Jisoo? I didn’t realize you were a member of the frat now?” You joked before holding up the camera. “I have to take pictures for a class project.” You explained.

Seungcheol wrapped his arm around Jisoo’s waist and said, “You can take a picture of us.” She agreed excitedly, already posing and smiling before you even pulled out the camera.

You stepped back and looked through the lens, making sure that the booth was visible in the background. “Okay, say cheese!” You said as you snapped the picture.

A pair of hands then poked you in your sides, causing you to yelp loudly and nearly drop the camera. You whipped your head around and saw Mingyu’s taunting face smirking down at you. “Hey, Y/N.”

“God, you scared me! You’re lucky I didn’t drop the camera.” You cried, playfully smacking him in the arm.

Mingyu held his hands up next to his face in defense. “Woah, sorry. My bad.” He chuckled. Jisoo and Seungcheol approached you two, butting in on your conversation.

“You know Mingyu?” Seungcheol asked, glancing between you two and raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, we’re partners for a project.” Mingyu explained briefly while checking over his shoulder. He turned to you. “Let’s go take these pictures fast, yeah? It’s kinda cold.” Before you could even respond, he linked his arm with yours and walked you away from the booth and into the small crowd of students.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked up at him. “We got out of there fast.” You noted.

Mingyu sighed. “Yeah, sorry. Cheol’s just weird about certain stuff.”

You were even more confused now. “What do you mean?”

“He just like- he tries to set me up with people all the time and I don’t want him the get the wrong idea of us.” He dismissed quickly before saying: “Why don’t you get some pictures of the people standing around here? Just take a few. We don’t need that many.”

“Oh... okay.” You responded hesitantly. You lifted the camera up again and snapped a couple more pictures of students conversing and walking up to the booth to buy raffle tickets. Mingyu stood next to you with his arms crossed over his chest, impatiently tapping his foot. He flashed you a relieved smile when you turned to him.

“All done?”

“We should be.” You replied while placing the camera back in the bag.

“Okay, we can go back to the house and work on the article together,” he said, “there’s gonna be some people from here hanging around there later but they shouldn’t be too loud.”

You agreed and began walking with him towards the SVT frat house. The sun was beginning to set now, and the air nipped at your exposed skin as the temperature continued to drop. You stared down at your shoes while you walked, your mind still fixating on Mingyu’s strange behavior.

Finally, you mustered up the courage to ask: “Are you okay?”

Mingyu’s eyes met with yours. Confusion overtook his features in response to your question. “Yeah?” He chuckled.

“Sorry,” you spoke, “you were just acting weird earlier.”

Mingyu sighed and stared ahead silently for a moment. “I don’t know,” he started, “I guess I just still feel bad about last weekend.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you revisited the memory once again.

“Sorry for bringing it up again. I know we should probably just move on already cause it wasn’t that big of a deal. I just... feel like I overstepped. So... I’m sorry.” He rambled.

You looked up at him again. “You don’t have to feel bad. I’m not mad at you.” You exhaled. “But you’re right... we should just move on.”

Mingyu gave you a small nod before changing the subject. “Did you figure out an article idea yet?”

You shook your head. “No, but it’ll be fine. There’s so much that goes on around campus.”

Your conversation slowly died out, but thankfully you arrived at the SVT frat shortly after. Mingyu opened the front door and allowed you to step through before walking in behind you and shutting it. The house was warm; you shivered as your skin adjusted to the change in temperature. You slipped your shoes off and stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to guide you through the house.

Mingyu led you to the dining room, crying out as he rounded the corner. “Seriously, Seungkwan?” He huffed.

A boy sat at the head of the table, textbooks sprawled across the surface. A few other people sat at the table with notebooks and laptops in front of them, watching Mingyu with confused expressions on their faces.

The boy—Seungkwan—stood up from his chair with his jaw dropped. “What do you mean ‘seriously, Seungkwan’?” He mocked Mingyu’s deep voice. “You know I have group study every Thursday!” He cried.

Mingyu rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He responded.

Seungkwan sat back down and calmly resumed his studies as if nothing had happened. You assumed that this must be typical behavior between the two. Staring at Mingyu with wide eyes, he turned to you.

“Is it fine if we go work on it in my room?” He asked, his voice lowered.

You felt blood rush through your ears. You swallowed. “Yeah,” you exhaled.

Mingyu led you up the stairs and down the hall. When he opened the door to his room, you were surprised by how clean it was. Everything was organized neatly and the room smelled fresh.

You heard the door click shut behind you, and your heart started beating faster.

“We can just sit on the floor,” Mingyu spoke. His deep voice startled you a bit. You walked further into the room and sat down with your legs crossed, resting your back against his bed frame as you set the camera down next to you. Mingyu sat down, his knee only a few inches away from yours.

Reaching behind his head for the laptop sitting on his bed, he pulled it into his lap and opened up the article.

“I’m not completely done yet.” He smiled sheepishly while rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s fine. You’re farther than I am.” You reassured him while you took the camera out of the bag again.

He laughed, “That’s true.” You placed the camera in his hands. “Alright, let me just get these pictures pulled up on here.”

You nodded and looked down as you played with your hands. You began to wonder what Wonwoo would think if he knew that you were in some other guy’s room right now.

You frowned and pulled your phone out of your pocket. You opened up your messages and went to send a text to Wonwoo when you realized that the message you had sent him last night was still unread. A dark, heavy feeling settled over your chest. Why did he act as if you didn’t exist anymore? Why would he suggest doing long distance when he couldn’t even commit to it?

You shut your phone off and set it on the floor next to you, staring forward. You exhaled, trying to stop the tightness growing in your throat.

Mingyu was leaned over his computer, his lips pursed in concentration. The definition of his triceps was visible through his sweatshirt. “These pictures actually didn’t turn out too horrible.” He said after a few moments of silence.

You laughed and playfully hit his shoulder. “Shut up.”

He brought his gaze to meet yours, a teasing smile on his lips. “No, they’re actually good.”

“Thanks,” you squeaked, the intensity of his gaze making you nervous. You felt blood rush through your veins. You broke eye contact, glancing down at his nose, and then at his lips that were parted slightly. You quickly looked up to his eyes again, but now they held a knowing look in them. He knew exactly what thoughts were going through your mind.

You inched closer to him, your breath getting caught in your throat as you noticed him bringing his face closer to yours. Your heart raced as you fluttered your eyes shut. His lips brushed against yours and you leaned closer, but then you felt him pull away.

“Do you really have a boyfriend?” He asked.

You sighed, opening your eyes slowly and looking into his concerned ones again. You pressed your lips into a line and looked down shamefully.

“I do,” you admitted. That tight feeling in your throat began to come back. Mingyu was silent. “I’m sorry.”

As you spoke your voice cracked and tears began to spill from your eyes. You felt Mingyu’s warm, soft skin caress your cheeks, holding your face in his hands. You looked up at him with teary eyes.

“Hey. Shhh, don’t cry.” He whispered. His brows were furrowed in concern as he ran his thumb over your cheek. “You can talk to me about it. I’ll listen.”

God, how you hated that he knew exactly what to do and what to say. You hated that he was giving you everything you had craved the past two months without even realizing it. You hated how he made it so easy to confide in him when you had a boyfriend that was supposed to be there for you instead—a boyfriend that was becoming a stranger to you.

You closed your eyes, causing more tears to fall down your face. “I’m sorry,” you said again, your voice a broken whisper.

You inhaled a shaky breath. “We’re long distance. But he barely talks to me anymore.” You explained. You brought your hand up to hold the wrist that was still caressing your face. “I just feel so alone. It feels like he’s given up on me.”

Mingyu was silent. The only audible sound in the room was your uneven breathing.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, “you deserve better than that.”

You felt your heart flutter in your chest at his sweet words.

“What do you want?” He questioned.

You opened your eyes. You were no longer crying, but your face was still wet with tears. Mingyu was staring at you with that same concerned look: eyebrows furrowed, eyes wide and conflicted, lips slightly parted.

“I just want someone to care.” You muttered.

He brought his face closer to yours again. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, and his eyes were half shut as he whispered: “I can take care of you.”

Your breath hitched.

“Do you want that?” He asked.

“Yes.”

Mingyu finally brought his lips to yours, kissing you hard and passionately. He left slow, open-mouthed kisses against your lips. The hand on your face gently squeezed, puckering out your lips as he continued to kiss them.

You brought your hands up to his hair, running your fingers through his soft locks as he pulled you into his lap. Your hips rested on top of his, straddling him, and you felt his tongue dart out against your lips. You parted your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth and deepen the kiss.

You ground your core into his lap, feeling his length begin to harden beneath the fabric of his jeans. He groaned into your mouth as you continued to move your hips back and forth.

This is all that you had wanted: someone to care for you, to touch you, to pay attention to you and make you feel wanted.

Mingyu brought both of his hands down to your hips, pushing you down against him as he lifted his hips up towards you. “Let me make you feel good,” he muttered against your lips.

You exhaled shakily, feeling the growing wetness between your legs. “Okay,” you whispered.

He placed his hands on your ass, roughly squeezing the soft flesh between his hands. You circled your hips again, letting out a quiet moan as his hard cock brushed against your clothed clit.

He pulled his lips away from yours. “Stand up,” he said quickly. You obeyed, peeled yourself off of him, and stood expectantly as he stood up from the floor himself. You could see the outline of his cock in his jeans as he rose. He towered over you now, making you feel small beneath him. He pushed your jacket off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and his fingers played with the hem of your shirt.

“Can I take this off?” He whispered into your ear. You nodded silently and he pressed a soft kiss beneath your ear. He lifted the fabric up, pulling it over your head and exposing your body to him. His hands brushed against your waist, making goosebumps form on your skin. “Lay down,” he demanded.

You sat down at the edge of his mattress and laid on your back, bunching your legs up at the edge of the bed. He leaned over your body, caging you in by resting both of his forearms on either side of you, and placed another kiss to your lips. Just as he began to kiss down to your neck, he pressed his hardness against your center. You let out a whimper at the contact.

He nibbled and sucked at the soft skin of your neck, causing your entire body to tingle. You leaned your head back, exposing more of your neck to him, and your eyes rolled back into your head at the pleasure.

“Mingyu,” you whimpered. He pressed his clothed length against you again.

“Fuck,” he hissed. He placed more open-mouthed kisses against your neck as he ran one of his hands down your stomach. He brought his hand up again and squeezed your breast through your bra.

He pulled away from your neck, looking down hungrily at your chest. You noticed this and complied to his wishes by arching your back against the bed. He brought his hands behind you, unhooking your bra before pulling it off of you slowly. He exhaled as he stared at your bare chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said. You felt heat rush to your face at the compliment. Before you could say anything, he brought his mouth down to your breast, sucking and flicking his tongue against your hardened nipple. You gasped. At this point you were so turned on you were sure that your arousal had already soaked through your leggings. He squeezed your other breast with his hand, and you arched your back again as you moaned.

Mingyu pushed himself up, staring into your eyes with his lust-filled ones. He kept eye contact with you as he pulled away, nearing your core. His fingers slipped under the waistband of your leggings. He looked to you for approval, and you nodded your head rapidly.

He tugged your pants down quickly and slid them off your legs, leaving you in only your underwear. He could see the wet spot on the fabric; he brought his fingers to the cloth and pressed it against your clit. Your legs twitched and you gasped quietly.

Mingyu chuckled. “Shit, you’re so fucking wet for me.” He licked his lips, and you could see the pride in his gaze as he slipped his fingers beneath your underwear and pulled them down your legs.

He brought his face close to your center, smirking before finally bringing his tongue to you and licking a strip up to your clit.

You let out a choked moan and your legs shut naturally, but Mingyu placed both of his hands on your knees and spread you open for him again. He placed a soft kiss on your clit before sucking on it harshly. Your hips jerked up and you cried out.

He looked up at your from between your thighs, an alarmed look on his face. “You have to be quiet, baby. There’s people downstairs.” He went back to sucking on your clit right after.

You pressed your lips together, trying to contain your moans, and they came out as heavy pants and muffled whimpers instead.

Mingyu brought his fingers to your core, teasing your entrance. He flicked his tongue against your clit as he pushed a finger into you and curled it deep inside you. You arched your back and cried out, “Fuck!”

As the pleasure continued to grow, you brought your hands down to his hair again, tugging each time he pumped and curled his finger in you. He moaned against your core, the vibrations making your eyes roll back into your head.

He pushed in another finger, scissoring them deep inside you. You could hear the filthy sounds of his fingers pumping into your wetness.

“M-Mingyu,” you moaned. “I’m gonna cum.”

He smirked against your core before resuming his ministrations of his tongue against your clit. He pumped his fingers into you faster and curled them with each thrust.

The pressure in your lower stomach was growing fast. Your legs began to shake as the pleasure built, and when Mingyu pushed his fingers deep into your core, you felt the knot snap.

You threw your head back as intense pleasure washed over your entire body. Your legs convulsed and you couldn’t hold back a particularly loud moan. Mingyu continued to pump his fingers into you slowly as you rode out your orgasm.

When the pleasure subsided, he pulled his fingers out of you, keeping eye contact with you as he placed them in his mouth and sucked them clean. The sight was so dirty that you whimpered softly. He leaned over you again, kissing you one last time, allowing you to taste yourself.

He rolled over, laying next to you on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. “How was that?” He asked.

“Good,” you breathed, “really fucking good.”

He chuckled under his breath. “I’m glad I could help.”

You sat up, glancing at the obvious boner that still strained against his jeans. “What about you?” You prompted.

“I’m fine. It’ll go away.” He dismissed, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Just lay down with me.”

You bit your lip, thinking for a moment before palming him through his jeans. “But I wanna make you feel good. It’s only fair.”

He hissed at the contact, his hips jerking up a bit. “Shit,” he muttered, removing his arm and placing it behind his head.

He watched you with half-lidded eyes as you fumbled with the button of his pants. You pulled them down, reaching your hand into his boxers and pulling out his cock. It was big. Really big. You were honestly worried if you were going to be able to fit it in your mouth. You stared at it for a moment, wide-eyed.

Mingyu looked down at you and giggled. “Well? Do something.”

You pumped your hand up his shaft, swiping over the tip and collecting the pre-cum that was leaking out. You pumped him a few times before situating yourself between his legs and bringing your lips down to his tip.

You rubbed your lips against his leaking head of his cock before pressing a soft kiss to it. Finally, you wrapped your mouth around him and sucked on the head. He groaned and lightly jerked his hips up, forcing more of his cock into your mouth. You glanced up at him while you continued to suck, pushing more of him into your mouth.

He stared back at you with his mouth hung open. “Fuck. ‘M so hard.” He moaned before leaning his head back against the mattress. “I’m not gonna last long.”

You swirled your tongue around him while he was in your mouth. Then you pushed your head down further, taking him deep into your throat. You struggled to inhale through your nose, almost choking on his dick.

You pulled yourself off him, catching your breath, and continued to pump his length. You brought your head back and sucked him into your mouth, using your hand to stroke whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

Mingyu was panting and jerking his hips up each time you swirled your tongue around his tip. You looked up and saw his head thrown back, the veins in his neck prominent as he clenched his teeth. He hit the back of your throat and you moaned against him, the vibrations causing him to gasp.

“Fuck! Fuck, I’m cumming.” He cried. You kept him in your mouth as the strings of hot liquid met your tongue.

You kept sucking on his length until you swallowed around him. You pulled yourself off his cock with a pop and stuck out your tongue to show him that you swallowed everything.

He pushed his softening cock back into his boxers and motioned for you to come up next to him. “Let’s lay down.”

You laid down on his chest and he pulled a blanket up to cover your nude body. You closed your eyes and listened to the softness of his breathing and the faint beat of his heart beneath his ribs.

“Shouldn’t we work on the project?” You asked after a few moments.

“No, it’s fine. Let’s just rest for a minute.” He said, running a hand gently down your back. You leaned into his soft touch.

The two of you laid in a comfortable silence, just basking in the calmness and in each other’s warm presence.

“Mingyu?” You broke the silence, looking up at him.

“Hm?” He hummed, meeting your eyes.

“Thank you.”

[nalu4emily]

Nure-Onna

Hello!

So I wanted to write a story based on chapter 74 of FT 100YQ. Mostly, I was happy with it, but I wanted to make it even more Nalu, and this was the result.

Yes, I am aware that this wouldn't actually happen, but it's fun to write up something that diverges from canon just a little, that's what fanfiction is for, so indulge me.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and if not, you can always read the real thing. :)

Summary:  With Lucy as the newly created Yokai - Nure-Onna - How is Natsu going to handle her snake like form and find a way to bring her back to him in one piece?

"It… hurts… But it feels so good…" He was being crushed between Lucy's sizeable chest, wrapped up in a crushing hold by her tail… "Hold on! You… Your legs! What's wrong with your body?!" He freaked, catching sight of the scaly snake like tail that held a vice-like grip around his body, making it hard for him to breathe.

As he stared into her eyes, he could no longer see those beautiful big brown orbs that once held so much love and care for others, now they were slitted and golden, almost predatory and followed his every move. Her face held nothing of the Lucy that once was, only the monster that she had become—what those witches had turned her into. He squirmed, tried to wriggle free which only made her coil tighter, a sickening smile adorning her cheeks. She was enjoying his struggle.

"Dammit! How's she so strong?!" He grunted, trying his hardest to fight against her bone breaking grip.

The nure-onna chuckled lightly, bringing her face slowly closer to the man in her hold, "Natsu." She called, her voice taunting, laced with darkness. Natsu could do nothing but stare, sweat dripping down his face as the sexy, snake girls lips were practically on top of him, gliding smoothly over his skin. "I'm gonna eat you up." She growled, licking her lips, the heat of her mouth fanned across his, giving him goosebumps. She opened it further, allowing her slippery tongue to glide over his cheek, causing a gasp and yelp to escape him.

This wasn't like Lucy; she would never be so… snaky, "Hey! You gotta change back, Lucy!" He was desperate now; he didn't want to see any more of this.

"Could you not talk so loudly into my chest?" Her tail unravelled from around the boys body and stuck the end of it straight into his mouth and down his throat, choking him. Without warning, she grabbed him around the middle and threw his body up into the air, before slamming him down onto the ground.

"Aargh! Damn, Lucy, that hurt!" He grunted, straightening himself back up, balling his hands into fists, brows furrowing as if battling his own internal conflict.

"But I thought you said it felt good when it hurt?" She chuckled lowly, licking her lips once again as she circled the boy, waiting for the right moment to strike. "Maybe I'll show you just how much I'd like to hurt you!"

"This isn't like you! Snap out of it!" He raised his voice, like he was trying to call to the other Lucy—his Lucy. "I don't wanna have to fight you, but I will if I gotta…" He lowered his voice, adorning a battle stance as he challenged the Lucy looking monster before him.

"Bad choice, Natsu... Now, you're mine!" She launched forward before the boy could even see what was happening and shoved him down into the ground again, coiling the end of her tail around his neck and dragged him up into the air. She approached the gasping young man, another small laugh rumbling through her chest. "You look tasty." Using her strong appendage she brought him back to her face, an evil glint in her golden irises that told him she'd won this before it even began.

He felt trapped, he didn't want to fight her but also felt like he had no choice, if he waited much longer, he'd be a goner for sure. Whilst she was distracted, he lifted his fist to the top of her tail and raised the temperature in it. She gasped and looked down, a fiery hand sizzling her scales, enough to scare her off and retreat but not enough to burn her.

Natsu dropped to the floor, coughing and spluttering, trying to refill his lungs of lost breath. He managed to stand up once again, a pained expression with hands encased in fire, ready and waiting.

"I'm mad now snake-Lucy." He leapt at her, fist drawn back about to strike her head on when he stopped.

"Natsu! Stop! It's me!" Lucy held up her arms in front of her face, tears forming in the corners of her eyes, "Natsu!"

His own eyes widened. A moment of hesitation; a moment of hope.

Had she returned to him?

Giving her the opening she needed, she used the water to swirl around him, trapping him in her spell. She cackled, "You fell for it!" Slithering over to the boy, she forced him against the rock and used her newly found strength to hold him there, nearly breaking his back in the process. He groaned in pain. "What part should I devour first?"

Stuck in place, partially submerged under the water and unable to use his magic, he simply watched her ogle his body, using her hands to squeeze his muscular form, salivating by the feel of his muscles in her palms.

"Lucy… Please… I don't want to hurt you!" He grunted through the stinging of his skin scraping against the sharp rock behind him.

"Hurt me? Oh, Natsu... Do you not see yourself? With you as my opponent, I'd already won." She licked across his jaw and down to the scar on his neck, sucking on it harshly enough to bruise. "You're my prey and I'm going to savour every last inch of your hot body."

Sweat began beading across his face again, gritting his teeth through the discomfort of Lucy's mouth pulling and tugging on areas he hadn't known were so sensitive until now. In any other circumstance, this would have been quite the turn on. Nights had gone by where he'd dreamt of Lucy doing this to him, to feel her sweet mouth on his...

His eyes grew wide as an idea slowly formed in his head. That was it! The perfect way to win! To use her new found dominance against her. And he'd be lying if the thought wasn't a little exciting, even in her snake form. He just hoped she wouldn't remember when she finally returned to normal, for her own sake.

As she grazed over his nipple, a small hum of satisfaction rumbled through his chest, catching the snakes attention. "Hmm… You seem to like my touch." She said, gripping hold of the erect bud once again and twisting it this time. "How about that? You like that, too?"

He winced and hissed as she continued her sweet torture on his now sore nipple, but remained quiet nonetheless. As hard as it was not to moan from the pleasurable soreness, he needed to see if she'd take the bait and let down her guard.

Just as planned, the man eating serpent did just that. Pressing her mouth to the sore area and grazing it with her teeth. She eyed the boy above her, revelling in the contorted expressions he pulled, all the while becoming more and more distracted from her main goal—which he assumed was to devour him.

As he endured Lucy's heavenly mouth bite and suck his skin, Natsu held down his small victory as her grip began to slacken, giving him more and more freedom to move. Just as her tongue was about to lick over his lips, his teeth unexpectedly snapped at the wet muscle and bit down on it, causing her to yelp and jerk backwards, freeing him. He smirked, bringing his newly liberated hands up and encased the back of her head with them, holding her in place.

"You've had your fun, Snake-Lucy, but now it's my turn!" He growled, raising the temperature around them, slowly evaporating the water she'd created.

Hissing at the boy, the snake attempted to escape, yanking and pulling at his arms but his grip was unyielding. Stinging her scales with his heat, she struggled, not liking how the tables had turned in his favour.

"Natsu! It's burning! Natsu, please, you wouldn't hurt me, not your Lucy!" She screamed in a panic, writhing under the intense heat of his body.

He feigned sympathy, a worried look luring her into a false sense of security. He pulled her close, his hands cupping her clammy cheeks, "You think I'd fall for that again?" He smirked, brushing his lips up against hers.

He could hear the voice of one of Selene's minions, giving away just which of those bitches did this to Lucy, "Huh… I was sure she'd beat him! No matter, she was one of the weakest Yokai in my arsenal anyway."

"Weakest, you say?" Natsu may have been looking into Lucy's eyes as he spoke, but he was addressing the one he'd just made his next target, "If you knew Lucy, then you'd realise she's not weak."

"Of course she is! My Yokai would never humiliate me by losing!" Youko's voice was laced with disgust for the nure-onna she had created. "How pathetic!"

"Why you-"

"It seems it's true…" Lucy's voice cut through, a soft whimper as she stopped her struggle, her forlorn expression pulling at Natsu's heartstrings. It was the face of a girl who was giving up. Her eyes shone with the water droplets that were yet to fall, her irises flittering between golden and brown.

"Nothin' that thing says is true, Lucy, don't listen to her!" Natsu tried to make her see reason; to talk some sense into the girl who'd been turned into a monster.

"Even as a Yokai with all the magic power of Elentir, I'm still so weak." A lone tear fell from her eyes and Natsu knew with a little push, Lucy—human Lucy—just might come back to him. "Do what you must, I've no place as a human or Yokai…"

Natsu stared in shock; she was just going to except her fate? To give up? This wasn't like her—this wasn't her and there lay the problem. "Lucy, don't you dare give up, you're stronger than this… Than them up there. What they've done to you is unforgivable, and I'mma be sure to make 'em all pay, but first you gotta come back to me." In the deepest depths of those golden slits, he could see that his best friend was still in there trying to reach out to him. He knew she was, all she needed was that extra bit of encouragement.

"See! I told you, worthless! I should have just killed her and saved everyone the trouble." Youko laughed maniacally, spurring her comrades to cheer and laugh too.

"She's right, I'm just a burden not worth your time, just end this already, I'm tired of waiting." Snake-Lucy let more tears fall in her frustration, her thoughts conflicted and her heart in pieces.

"Fine, I'll end this." Natsu grabbed a hold of her cheeks and brought her face to his, welding their lips together in a fierce and heated embrace.

At first the nure-onna fought against it, but the longer he held on, the less she resisted until she all but melted into it, eventually responding to his inexperienced but determined ministrations. Their mouths danced in a steady rhythm with their tongues interloping, albeit, a little awkwardly.

Natsu fought to show just how much she mattered to him, to show her place in his heart and how deeply he cared for the Lucy that'd always been by his side. He loved her, there was no doubt about that and when they finally pulled apart, he looked deep into her eyes and smiled at what he saw. Those beautiful big brown orbs that shone with the love and care she had for everybody, even her enemies, had returned.

There she was—his Lucy—in all her two legged, naked, glory.

"But that's impossible! I turned her into a Yokai; how did she manage to change back so easily?!" Youko shouted, but neither Natsu nor Lucy took any notice, too entranced in each other.

"Natsu…" The blonde whispered, bringing her hand up to his face to caress his cheek, a small smile adorning her features, "Thank you."

And with that, her eyes closed shut; her body falling limp in his arms. Totally exhausted and her magic spent, the relieved slayer laid her on the ground, hidden from view trying to cover as much of her nakedness as possible. Once satisfied nothing would run into her whilst she slept, he stood back up, his eyes covered by his hair and spoke now directly to the women on top of the mountain.

"I hope you realise now, attacking my friends was a big mistake! Not only are they strong but we share a bond that'll never be broken by the likes of you." Natsu ignited his entire body, his eyes grew serious and angry.

Youko, still shocked by what'd just happened, felt a little fearful of the boy surrounded by flames; maybe they'd underestimated their opponents?

"I hope you're ready, 'cause I'm coming for ya and I won't stop until I see you all burn!"

[jean-kayak]

Chapter 10

Summary: A relaxing summer at home after your second year of college sounds nice, until someone comes back and makes it anything but

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x black!fem!reader

Warnings: eren being suggestive as usual, smut (18+!!), oral (f.receiving), fingering (f.receiving), unprotected sex

Word Count: 2940

A/N: The first half of this is plot the other half is smut 💀

Tags: @germfart3, @iwascrybaby, @styxtm, @bigdaddyzawa, @prxttyguardian, @erensblackgirlfriend, @kbbvbz, @pettyluxury​, @protectpancakes​

Chapter Summary: There's nothing wrong with indulging yourself for the summer, right?

Eren doesn't know how long you're supposed to think about something, but he wishes you would make your mind up. You haven't slept together since then, and you haven't even talked to him since then either. You've been hanging out with your friends, not really being home for long before you're going out again.

And the other thing that's bugging him is that he can't stop thinking about you. Usually, he can get over someone pretty easily, but he doesn't know if it's because he's known you for a while or what, but you seem to be completely unaffected by him at least to some extent, and he doesn't like that.

You probably wouldn't believe it if he told you, but he likes talking to you. All those times he took you to get ice cream, sure were to make you feel better, but whenever he felt like he needed someone to talk to you, he always went to you. But he was too full of himself back then to admit, and he's not saying that he's the same person he was in high school, but he still doesn't think he'd tell you that.

When he hears the front door open, he's not really proud to admit that he was quick to make his way downstairs to see if you were there. But to his disappointment, only Jean was walking into the living room. "You looking for something?" Jean asks him, and Eren shakes his head.

"No, I was just--it's nothing."

"Were you expecting Y/N?" Eren shoots his head up to look at him but calms himself down before he speaks. He thought he downplayed his disappointment pretty well.

"No. What makes you say that?" He changes his demeanor hoping to minimize any suspicion Jean might have.

"You just seemed pretty excited coming down the stairs." Eren doesn't say anything, but Jean keeps talking. "You guys back to talking now?" he asks, and Eren hears a little more aggression in his words this time. There's no way that he knows. He hasn't done anything obvious that shows that you two have slept together.

He shrugs. "I guess. Is that a problem?"

"No, no. No problems here." Jean has an edge to his voice, and Eren doesn't know where it's coming from, but he's afraid to argue in fear that Jean might catch on, and he remembers you mentioning that Jean didn't really like the fact that you both talked to each other in high school.

"Is there something wrong with me talking to her?" he asks. Now he's getting annoyed. What's so wrong with just talking to you?

"No," Jean replies nearly sarcastically, and Eren walks closer to him. "When did I ever mention having a problem with that?"

"Y/N mentioned it actually. You care to tell me why?" He doesn't like how Jean isn't okay with your relationship with him whether he knows or not, and Eren's starting to get irritated, but Jean is apparently feeling the same way because he steps into his space, and one thing he doesn't have over Jean anymore is size. Jean's practically taller than him now.

Jean scoffs. "Oh, forgive me for not wanting history to repeat itself." At that, Eren's frown deepens. What does that mean? Does it have to do with why you stopped talking to him?

The front door opens and both of them look at the door to see you standing there as you close the door behind you. Your eyebrows crease as you look between the both of them, clearly interrupting something. "What's wrong?" Jean asks, walking towards you, and you glance at Eren before you answer.

"Oh, it's nothing. It's just some of us were going out to get food, so I just wanted to ask if you wanted to come."

Jean smiles at you, masking whatever irritation was on his face as he nods. "Yeah, I'll tag along, just let me get changed." He turns around, both of the boys glaring at each other before he walks upstairs.

You quickly make your way over to Eren. "What was that all about? He doesn't know, does he?"

"No," Eren replies, firmly, but he's not entirely sure. "I'm pretty sure he doesn't. It was just a stupid argument," he dismisses, and you eye him.

"Okay then," you respond slowly, and he catches your wrist when you start to step away.

"I haven't seen you in a while," he says, and you roll your eyes as you smile.

"There's a reason for that."

"Don't tell me it was because the sex was bad." He surely hopes it isn't because having sex with you is probably the best he's ever had.

"Keep your voice down," you warn. "That's not the reason," you sigh like you don't want to admit it, and he steps closer to you.

"Then what is it?" You move away from him when you hear Jean's footsteps, making your way towards the door, and you follow Jean out without a word, only sparing him a glance, leaving him standing in the living room more than confused.

"Where do you think you're going?" you hear your dad asks as you're about to take your food upstairs.

"To my room?"

"You can't." You frown as you turn towards him. "Your mom wants to have dinner as a family."

"We don't even use the dining room," you argue as your mom comes into view.

"Well, there's no harm in starting now. Come on." Your shoulders slump as you walk into the dining room. You've eaten with your parents before, but it's just not something that you all do all of the time. Sometimes you would use it whenever Jean was over when you were kids, or whenever his family was over for dinner, but that was about it.

If you were eating with your parents and not in your room, it would mostly be in the living room in front of the TV. You sit down, digging into your food when the doorbell rings. You hear your mom at the door more than you hear whoever is at the door, and when you hear it close, you turn to her as you hear her walking into the dining room.

"Who was at the--" You stop talking and raising your fork to your mouth when your eyes land on who was at the door, who's now standing next to your mom.

"Eren's going to be joining us from dinner today," your mom says, and you blink dumbly at her.

"I thought this was supposed to be a family dinner?"

She waves you off with her hand and a scoff. "Don't be like that. He is more than welcome to join us." You're still frozen in position as she turns to him. "You can go have a seat next to Y/N. I'll go get you a plate."

"Thank you so much." He's using that voice that she only uses with your mom, and it makes you roll your eyes before you stick your fork in your mouth as he sits down next to you. "Hello to you too, princess."

"What do you think you're doing?" you question, squinting your eyes at him.

"I haven't had your mom's cooking in a while, so I thought I'd drop by." You don't buy it, your eyebrows raising as you look at him, but you go back to your food when your parents come in. Dinner goes by pretty well, but you're waiting for whatever Eren has planned because you know he didn't just come over for your mom's food, which is good, but there's something else.

"Food is amazing as always, Ms. L/N," Eren compliments, and fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"Thank you, Eren, I'm glad you're enjoying it." You feel like you could count down the seconds, but you don't know what he could do. "So, how have you been? Feels like we haven't seen in forever."

He huffs softly as he nods. "It does. But I've been good," he answers as you grab your drink. "I've been inside some new places."

You choke on your drink. Of course, he chose to drop something like that while you were fucking drinking. You cough violently as you punch your chest, your parents' eyes widening in concern, and you just know that Eren has a smug smirk on his face.

"Oh, my God," you wheeze, finally being able to catch your breath, waving off your parents when they ask if you're okay. "I'm fine," you sigh heavily. "It just went down wrong," you explain, sending a dark glare towards Eren.

When you're back to normal, your parents continue the conversation. "So, Eren, what are your plans now that you're done with college?" The question comes from your dad.

"I'm thinking about doing something with art, just don't know what yet." You remember when you started noticing him drawing, he always looked so focus, but he never showed you any of them. You think about the one time he had asked you if he could draw you, but you shake the head out of your memory. But you don't realize that you physically shook your head.

"Are you okay?" You raise your eyebrows at your dad's question when you realize that you just randomly shook your head.

"Oh, yeah. I was just trying to remember something."

"Oh! That reminds me, why don't you get Eren to help you with your room?" You start to shake your head again as your mom turns to Eren. "Y/N's been wanting to rearrange her room again."

You guess you could say that you've been thinking about interior design for most of your life. Your parents were grateful for the day that you were finally strong enough to move most of your furniture on your own. You couldn't go barely three months without wanting to change your room around again.

"Oh, no. That's okay, he's probably got stuff to do."

"I actually don't. I'd love to help you." You turn your head slowly to look at him, giving him a tight smile, hoping the look in your eyes is telling him what you really want to say. "We can start on it now if you're done eating."

You glance down at your empty plate. "Yeah, sounds good." That does not sound good, and you can't react the way you want to in front of your parents. Your mom says she'll handle the dishes, and Eren thanks her for the food before you both head upstairs to your room.

He has your back against the door as soon as it closes, his hands moving under your shirt and over your skin. "Nice stunt you pulled back there. Thanks for almost killing me," you jest, and he smiles at you as he shrugs his shoulders, his hands warming your skin with the smooth circles he making on your stomach.

"You're welcome. I mean I was telling the truth. I haven't been inside my favorite place in a while because a certain person won't let me in. For whatever reason," he tacks on.

"What? I can't have a reason?" He doesn't like that it looks like he isn't getting a reaction out of you, and he smirks in triumph when he hears your breath hitch as he ghosts his lips over your neck.

"Not if you're not gonna tell me," he whispers against your skin before he pulls away. "But I'll give you time to think about it," he adds before he drops to his knees in front of you.

Your eyes go wide when his hands lightly grip the top of your shorts, and you put your hands on his. "We can't. My parents are in the house," you tell him like he doesn't already know that, but you can already feel your resolve starting to break.

"Then you'll just have to stay quiet. If you can," he adds playfully, and he hesitantly pulls at your shorts. When you don't stop him, he works them down your legs, and you moan when he licks over your covered slit. He pulls away immediately. "If you can't keep quiet, I'll stop," he tells you firmly, and you nod quickly.

He thumbs at your clit through the thin fabric before moving the crotch out the way and licking through your folds. You slap a hand over your mouth to conceal your moans as he pulls your underwear down, hissing softly when the cold air hits your overheated flesh.

He puts one of your legs over your shoulder to give him more room, and he slides two fingers inside of you which are easily welcomed as his tongue swirls around your clit. Your other hand pulls at his hair, and he grunts softly before speeding up his fingers, and you ball your shirt in your mouth as you start to have more trouble holding in the noises you're making.

You jolt when he brushes your sweet spot, the stimulation sending a shiver up your spine as you feel your climax approaching. His name slips out, and he's pulling away, his fingers slowing down. "What did I say?" His voice is as dark as his eyes, and you bite your lip at how shiny the lower half of his face is.

He speeds his fingers back up, and you pull on his hair in surprise which makes him groan softly against your folds, the vibrations sending you higher. You're grinding against his fingers and his face, and he sucks your clit into his mouth as he works another finger inside, all three pads of his fingers massaging your spot, and you feel yourself cumming, tensing against the door as you let out a small whine, and Eren takes his fingers out of you, replacing them with his tongue to lap up every bit of your release.

You drop your head back against the door as your chest heaves up and down, and Eren rises to his feet, and you watch him lick around his mouth. He kisses you, his tongue moving into your mouth so that you can taste yourself making you moan softly.

"You did better than I thought you would," he tells you, and you huff, still winded. "It's only fair to reward you, right?" he breathes against your lips, and that's when you feel his dick straining in his shorts against you.

He pulls you to your bed, and you barely make it over there, your legs wobbling before he takes your shirt and bra off. He works his clothes off, and you feel another rush of wetness flowing out of you just from looking at him. "But you gotta be quiet, okay?" he warns quietly, and you nod, the only thing swirling in your head is lust. He smiles as he cups your chin, his thumb grazing over your lip. "Such a good girl."

You let out a quiet whimper before he pushes you down on the bed, moving you until your head is laying on the pillows. He lines himself up, and you bite down on your hand as he pushes in, the feeling of your walls stretching to fit him is still overwhelming.

"Fucking hell," he rasps, his hands clenching into fists as he feels your tight walls pulsing around him. He starts moving, and you try your hardest to muffle the squeak that comes out of your mouth when he hits your g-spot instantly.

He speeds his hips up as you both feel yourself reaching your climax, and you don't even realize the headboard is hitting the wall until you hear a knock on the door which makes him freeze, both of your eyes widening.

"Is everything okay in there?" your mom asks through the door, and glance at Eren before speaking.

"Yeah, we're fine just--" Eren snaps his hips, cutting you off, and you slap a hand over your mouth as you glare at him. "Just moving the bed!" you rush out because Eren keeps moving, careful to make sure the bed doesn't keep knocking against the wall.

"Okay, well just be careful," she cautions, and you don't even bother to respond as your eyes roll back in your head. You're biting your hand hard, but you don't even feel it as Eren whispers soft praises in your ear as he moves his hand to rub at your clit.

Your other hand digs into his back as you moan into your hand, your orgasm ripping through you, his following shortly after. He flops down on top of you, the room filling with the sounds of ragged breath. "You're awful," you chastise, and he lifts his head to look at you.

"Whatever do you mean?" he asks feigning ignorance, and you roll your eyes.

"Well, we still have to move the furniture or my lie won't add up," you say, and he stops you when you start moving.

"Are we still doing this?" he asks. "Because if you--"

"We can still sleep together," you cut him off, brushing some of the strands that are stuck to his forehead back into his hair. You decide, what's wrong with indulging yourself for just this summer? You're pretty sure that once it's over, you'll never see him again, so make the best of the moment, right?

"So, no more 'I'll think about it'? No more stopping cold turkey on me?" he questions, and you shake your head, and he leans down to kiss you, pulling away with a smile on his face. "So, one more round?"

"No! We're rearranging my room. Now get off of me."

|Chapter 9|Masterlist|Chapter 11|

[starsstruck]

cloudbusting; part four.

a classic coffee shop story. harry is a painter that quickly becomes a regular at his neighbourhood cafe, and it just might have something to do with a certain barista. horoscope readings, mandarin oranges, and star-gazing strolls.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, mentions of anxiety words: 13k

series masterlist

art by holly warburton. (i have no vision for the mc of the fic, people in the images of paintings i use are purely because this is how i envision harry’s art to be)

a/n: thank you for being patient with me for this chapter, i hope everything turned out okay ! a big huge thank you to the amazing tina @sunflowers-styles​ for helping me out and being the best beta ily ❤️❤️ as always let me know what you think and please share if you can ! i love to hear everyone's thoughts and comments <3 happy reading !

Sat comfortably on Mae’s couch, you were taking a big bite of the hummus covered carrot that you had just grabbed.

“I have some frozen perogies!”

Mae’s voice floated from the kitchen, both of your laziness to make a proper dinner was about to be satisfied with hummus and snacks before Mae started digging through her fridge.

“That sounds perfect!” You called back, reaching over her coffee table for another carrot. You could hear her shuffling through the kitchen, reappearing by the couch with a box of herb flavoured crackers in hand.

“I’ll put them on later,” she hummed, seating herself next to you while turning down the volume of the Fiona Apple that was playing through the speaker. “Don’t feel like cooking just yet.”

“How was the weekend away?”

Mae had just come back from a two-night stay with her partner’s parents, at their place out in Rochester. “It was good – honestly it was pretty nice to completely get away from everything, even if it was for a bit, and even if it was with Robin’s parents.”

“That sounds lovely,” you nodded, unable to help yourself as you kept reaching for more crackers. “It’s good you got to relax for a bit.”

“Work has been far too stressful lately,” Mae nodded. “Aren’t you getting some time off soon as well?”

You rolled your eyes, waiting until you finished chewing your carrot until you spoke. “I guess. It’s not really going to be relaxing for me though.”

She shot you a sympathetic smile. “It’ll be okay – if things get too bad tell me, and I’ll come over with some kind of emergency.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you laughed, not wanting to think about the reason you were going to be taking some time off work.

“Don’t think about that just yet,” Mae told you, a smile lining her lips. “How’s work going otherwise? Oh! Anything new with the painter boy?”

You bit your lips together, watching the bowl of homemade hummus as if it was the most interesting thing you’d ever seen. You knew Mae could read you well, and you knew that as soon as you averted your gaze that she’d be onto something.

“Something did happen?” She repeated the question, voice rising in excitement as you tried to hold back your little smirk.

“He ate me out on the floor of his apartment.”

“I’m sorry, he did what?” Mae sprang up, back straightening out as she turned to fully face you. “Last I heard you weren’t even sure if he was even going to make a move on you.”

“Well…” you trailed off, not knowing what else to say. “He did.”

It had been three days since you last saw Harry. You had your usual two days off, coming back to work just this Saturday morning.

After the little distraction from your painting session, you had pulled your dress back over your knees. And with starry eyes and warm cheeks, you sat up with legs pressed to his and your arms around his neck to pull him in for a sloppy kiss.

He had tugged you closer to him until you were practically sitting on his lap, muttering near nonsense against your mouth. “You’re unreal, you know that?” and “Sound so good saying my name like that, could listen to you for hours.”

Just the mere thought brought butterflies to your stomach; which was something you thought only happened to protagonists in romance novels.

You could still feel his warm breath against your skin and the sweet nothings he had kissed onto your lips.

“Was he good?”

Mae really didn’t need to ask; she could tell by the look on your face. You nodded, confirming her suspicion with a smile bit between your teeth. “Really good.”

“I love that,” she chuckled lightly. “Anything else happen? And wait, when exactly did this happen?”

“Few days ago – I went over to his to do some painting with him. I actually ran into him last weekend when I was out which was when he first kissed me.”

“What? You never told me that.” She mocked a pout, not actually upset with you.

“I haven’t seen you!” You laughed, always favouring to tell her things in person rather than on the phone or through text. 

“I suppose…” she laughed. “Have you seen him since?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I mean it was only three days ago.”

“Do you have plans to see him again?”

Again, you shook your head. “No – I don’t know. I realized I don’t even have his number or anything, I usually just see him at my work.”

“You could always DM him,” Mae nodded, reminding you of the time you both had spent scrolling through his Instagram.

“That’s true,” you bit at your bottom lip. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what he wants or anything.”

You fell quiet for a second, still gnawing at your lip. When you thought about it, you really only ever did see him at your work and other than his art practice and what kind of coffee he liked to drink, you didn’t know that much about him.

“Did anything else happen?”

“No,” you again shook your head. “He said that we didn’t have to do anything more if I didn’t want to – honestly I would’ve returned the favour but things just didn’t really go that way.”

“That’s kind of sweet.”

The wheels in your head were spinning. “Maybe he just wants something physical, I don’t know…”

Mae rolled her eyes. “Don’t jump the gun. By the sound of everything I kind of doubt that, he didn’t even get off.”

“I mean, is that weird? Maybe he does that – like in Sex and the City.”

Mae let out a loud laugh. “Life is not like Sex and the City, stop comparing yourself to that shitty show. Also, what does it have to do with anything?”

“That’s a plot,” you nodded, hating yourself for remembering all the awful plot points from the 90s TV show. “Charlotte dates this guy who’s like, notorious for going down on women and wants nothing else from a relationship.”

Mae raises an eyebrow. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“No,” shaking your head, a small furrow in your brow as you actually couldn’t remember how the episode had ended. “It wasn’t bad – but it wasn’t good. That’s all he did – he wasn’t a good guy or something, I don’t remember. He only was in the one episode.”

Mae laughed.  “Babe you’ve got to stop watching that show.”

“It’s entertaining,” you shrugged, fully knowing Mae also loved to indulge in the guilty pleasure with you.

“What does this have to do with Harry – your Harry?” Mae made the distinction, as if you would have only thought about Harry Goldenblatt, Charlotte’s second husband of the show.

“I don’t remember,” you muttered, bottom lip still between your teeth as you couldn’t for the life of you remember why it was bad that Charlotte dated a guy that only wanted to eat her out.

Snapping yourself out from the mess in your mind, you shook your head. “Anyway, sorry. Things are good, I’m just overthinking.”

Mae was quiet for a second. “Do you like him?”

You paused, already knowing your answer but being slightly afraid of it. “I think I do.”

It was two days later when you saw Harry again. With your usual Monday opening shift, the slow morning had you leaning against the counter flipping through the daily newspaper as you found yourself with not much else to do.

Playing with the paper straw that was in your third coffee of the day, you blindly brought it up to your mouth just as you heard someone walk through the door.

An older man with a red baseball cap shuffled through the propped open door, giving you a two-finger wave as he walked over to the counter.

“Morning,” he chirped, placing a ten-dollar bill on the counter as you went to grab his morning muffin. “Nice day out, isn’t it?”

One pet peeve you had about your job, was the weather talk that every patron seemed to insist on having. They all loved to chat about the bright sun outside while you were stuck working inside. “Beautiful day.”

Grabbing the bill from the counter, your eyes flitted back to the front door as you were counting out the customer’s change. A familiar silhouette of someone else walking through the door had caught your attention, eyes widening a bit when you realized it was Harry who had just come in.

He had his usual canvas bag over his shoulder, light wash blue jeans and a white shirt with some kind of graphic you couldn’t see on it.

Feeling your heart beating just a bit faster in your chest, you turned your attention back to the regular (who’s name you couldn’t remember, Bill or something) with the red cap and handed him his change.

Shooting Harry one more look, forcing the corners of your lips not to open in a wide smile while you moved to prepare a small americano.

As you watched the espresso pour into the mug, you willed your body not to flush at even being in the same room as Harry. You felt like you were thirteen, with a silly crush on a boy you’d only ever spoken to once. Except that this was much more real than a small crush.

You had never really felt this way with anyone before.

“Small americano,” you spoke not too loudly in the near empty café, your voice easily carrying over the sound of Françoise Hardy’s Voilà.

The red capped regular grabbed his coffee, pouring a generous amount of cream in it with a small thank you before he headed to his table near a window, ready for his breakfast with his book.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Harry having placed his things at his usual table and was tapping away on his phone. Cleaning out the portafilter, you wiped off the counter before deciding to head back to your coffee and newspaper.

It was not even a minute later that you felt a presence loom from the other side of the counter.

“Morning,” Harry’s voice was a quiet rasp, clearing his throat as you shot him a glance.

Your stomach fluttered.

“Hi,” you hummed, willing yourself to stop your flush at the memory of the last time you saw him. Hand reaching out for your no longer iced coffee, straw between your lips as you looked up at him again. “What’s your sign?”

Harry’s brow furrowed, a twitch of a smile at his mouth. “What?”

You motioned to the open newspaper in front of you on the counter. “Your sun sign – I’m reading horoscopes.”

“Oh,” he laughed. “I’m an Aquarius. Are you reading all of them?”

You nodded with your own little laugh. “I like to compare them, plus I’m a bit bored. So,” your eyes skimmed over the newsprint. “An Aquarius hm?”

“Is that bad?”

You only hummed, finding it on the page and pausing before reading his daily horoscope to him. “Under today’s amorous skies, sometimes less is more. Resist the urge to come on too strong to a new romantic prospect. A star-gazing stroll through nature could be the perfect way to add a dash or romance to your evening. And who knows? Your nighttime adventure could even bring artistic inspo.”

A few seconds of silence washed over the two of you. Harry had his bottom lip between his teeth, unable to help the nervous twist in his stomach. The horoscope was just a bit too accurate, especially with who was reading it to him.

“That’s – that’s something.” He said after a moment. The bright sun made the little pink blush on his cheeks obvious. He cleared his throat, looking to change the subject. “What’s yours say?”

“Mine isn’t nearly as nice, a bit of a filler horoscope if you ask me.” You sighed, searching for your sign on the page even though you’d just read it not long ago. “Today is all about adventure. Today’s thrill-seeking skies get your engines revving. Expand your horizons, whether you embark on a cross country road trip or rent a cabin in the woods. It’s all about a change in scenery and spiritual balance.”

“Sounds like you need to seek some thrill.” Harry laughed, the words you had read to him about his own horoscope still stuck in his head.

“I guess I do,” you bit back a smile, closing the paper. “Did you only come in for readings today? Or maybe a coffee too?”

“So many reasons I came in today,” he shot you a smile, almost a nervous one.

“Well then,” you hummed, pushing yourself away from the counter to go start preparing a coffee for him. “Let me grab you a drink.”

He followed you, from the other side of the counter, to the espresso machine. After tamping the grounds and waiting for the shot, you placed a hand on your shoulder as you circled your opposite arm, feeling the ever growing knot under your skin. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled lightly. “It’s just my shoulder – I call it barista shoulder. Not everyone gets it, I think it depends on the way you tamp the espresso.” 

You saw the confusion on his face. 

“Tamping – it’s when you use this,” you reached over to grab the heavy tool used to press down grounds. “I honestly don’t know what it’s called - I think it’s just called a tamper? Anyway, you press down the grounds to form this kind of espresso puck.” 

You mimicked the motion, twisting your body. “You need to use a bit of force so I got into the habit of using my entire side to push it down. Some people press just in the wrist or their arm. My old boss had the same issue as me – after years of the repetitive motion it kind of fucks with your whole side; your arm, shoulder, ribs, everything.”

“Your ribs?” 

You quickly stopped the shot that was still pouring, having nearly forgotten about it. 

“Yeah,” you laughed lightly with a sheepish smile. “I went to see a physio for it, I have two ribs that are a bit dislocated.” 

“What?! You have dislocated ribs?!” Harry looked a bit scared. 

“Partially,” you corrected, as if it made a big difference. 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Kind of, yeah,” you nodded. “I try and stretch it out often, I even got acupuncture for it once. It’s more of a dull pain.” 

“Jesus,” he muttered, a small shake to his head. “Dangerous work you do here.” 

You only laughed, scooping out some ice from the machine and placing a few cubs into the glass cup, some espresso splashing onto your hand.

Placing the cup on the counter, you nudged it across in his direction. “For you.” 

“Thank you,” his fingers reached for it, before sliding it a few inches before stopping.

“Oh!” He disappeared for a moment, quickly walking to his table before reappearing in front of you, all in the few seconds the espresso had been pouring for. “Brought these for you.”

He had two mandarin oranges in his hand, holding them out in your direction before placing them on the counter between the two of you.

You were so endeared you wanted to throw them at his head.

“I remembered how you said you usually forget to eat in the morning – actually I don’t even know if you like oranges. You don’t have to – well anyway they’re there for you if you want them.”

“Thank you,” you spoke softly, warming at the small action. You did in fact enjoy oranges; you loved the smell of them as well. “I love mandarin oranges”

“Me too,” Harry grinned, done with his rambling. “Love the colour too – actually I like the colour tangerine even better,” he smirked lightly, apparently not done with his rambling. “But I only had mandarin oranges.”

“Any citrus fruit really is divine,” you giggled, grabbing one in each hand.

Harry saw you disappear behind the espresso machine for a brief second, only the top of your head visible between the mugs, before you turned back towards him while wiping your hands on your jeans.

He held the small glass between his fingers, mouth dropping open to speak but nothing came out when both your attentions turned to see a family waiting for you to take their order.

You only shot him a little smile, grabbing the pen from your back pocket and moved to take their order.

Harry went to go take his seat, pulling out his usual workbook that was slowly but surely filling up with page after page of colourful sketches.

He thought over the words you had read out to him about his horoscope. He never was one to take that in a serious manner, quite frankly not knowing a lot about astrology at all. But he took it as a sign since you specifically were the one reading it out to him.

Finding himself sketching small drawings of stars and the reflection of the sky on the water, unable to help but momentarily flick his eyes up to the front counter every so often, where you would often be found standing.

He watched the way you asked a man about the book he was reading, the way the customer was so excited to share it with you. You had that effect on a lot of patrons, he noticed. You made them feel comfortable and welcomed in the little café.

With his bottom lip between his teeth, he couldn’t help but feel slightly flustered even when you weren’t directly interacting with him.

Continuing with your separate tasks in the café for the next hour or so, as Harry didn’t want to bug you when a small line up never seemed to go away.

Walking up to the front after that line up finally did subside, empty glass in hand that he placed in the dirty dish bin, before he peered around the café as he couldn’t see you.

He finally did find you in the back room, one leg bent and knee resting on the stool. In one hand you had your phone held in front of you, attention drawn towards it. In your other hand you were holding a few orange slices, mindlessly chewing on them.

After watching you for a second longer, he cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb any peace you had settled into.

You blinked while you turned your head, a slice of mandarin orange just placed into your mouth as you put your phone down on the table in front of you.

“Oh, hey sorry,” you placed your foot on the ground, orange on the table as you walked over to the doorframe. He could smell the orange on you as you neared him. “Just taking advantage of the lull.”

“No of course, didn’t mean to bug you –”

“– just wanted to ask,” he paused, leaning his hip against the wall next to him. He was only slightly intruding in on the space that was technically just for the workers, watching as you rested you back against the doorframe behind you with a few mandarin orange slices still in hand. “Are you doing anything Wednesday night?”

It was your turn to pause, eyes leaving his for a second as you chewed on your orange slice. “I close – otherwise I don’t think so, why?”

“There’s an opening show, my friend has a whole series in it. It’s at the same gallery that we work at sometimes, it’s just a tiny show but – well I’d love it if you came with me.”

Your eyes fell to his again. He could see a smile starting to grow on your mouth, corner of your lip between teeth. “What time is it at?”

“Starts at eight, but it goes until eleven. You don’t need to be there right at eight.”

You nodded, and although he felt like you were dragging this out a bit on purpose, he couldn’t help but feel a small pit of nerves grow in the pit of his stomach.

“Okay,” you hummed, voice quiet as your eyes darted over to the front counter to check for customers. “I’m usually done around quarter past seven – I can probably head over for eight-thirty? Give or take, depending on where it is.”

He knew he was smiling so wide that his cheeks were dimpling. “So, you can come?”

“I’d love to,” you returned his smile.

“Amazing,” the butterflies in his stomach flew away. “Do you have a pen? I’ll give you the address.”

He watched you pat your back pocket, not finding the red pen that was usually placed there. Taking a second to check the back room, reappearing with a little scrap of paper and a pen.

He scribbled down the information you need, watching you fold up the little piece of paper and place it in your back pocket along with the pen.

“I have to head over a bit earlier, moral support and all, but I can meet you there?” Harry asked.

“Sounds good,” you hummed, excitement growing at the idea of spending more time with Harry outside of the café.

“I have to head out soon,” he spoke, “but I’ll be seeing you on Wednesday, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you grinned, lips together as he bid you a little goodbye. Just as you were debating about if you should hug him, or say anything else, a group came in waiting to be served. As always, you were interrupted by other patrons. “See you Wednesday!” 

The following two days flew by. That Wednesday evening, you were giddy as you closed, rushing through all your duties.

Closing with Saya took no time at all, and soon you were walking with a fast pace in your step to head back home. You knew you actually had plenty of time to get ready, but you were taking your sweet time and wanted the process to be relaxing rather than stressful.

You didn’t really know what one wore to a gallery opening. It was a small show; that was all Harry had really said. It’d probably be casual, so you didn’t want to overdress, but you also didn’t want to look too out of place.

After washing your face, you were throwing clothes around your room as you searched for what to change into. It was then you realized that Harry had only really seen you in clothes you wore to work. It wasn’t that you dressed poorly at work, in fact you liked to think you had quite a nice,  casual style, but you still felt like dressing up just a bit.

You finally settled on a dark navy dress that had orange seams embroidered up the sides and around the hem. It was the kind of dress that would look good on anyone, that fit and clung to every dip and slope of your body.

Grabbing a nearly sheer black blouse to throw over your shoulders, slipping on your trusty white sneakers, hoping that you were walking on the line between casual and formal.

With a little beaded bag over your shoulder with everything you’d need for the night, you checked the time once more before heading out the door.

It didn’t take you as long as you thought it would to make it out the door, and finally you were double checking the address on your phone before being met with the red sign over the gallery and the glass double doors.

Smiling at the man dressed in a bright red blazer who stamped your hand,  you walked through the open doored entrance. You immediately felt a tad out of place, seeing everyone chatting and talking and drinking and laughing – all together.

You let your eyes skim over the space, taking in the gallery. It was fairly large, considering Harry had described it as “just a tiny show”. The room was big and open, and there seemed to be another room that opened up around a curved wall.

Gaze jumping from person to person, you found yourself feeling just the slightest bit out of place. Tentatively walking through the gallery, deciding to simply make your way around and hope to find Harry along the way.

It was when you were looking at a big dark painting, one that had different strokes of grays and browns across a large canvas, that a familiar voice spoke quietly to your left.

“Happy to see you made it.”

Turning around to see Harry, not realizing how close he had come up behind you. You had to take a little step back, the corner of your lips perking up as you saw his mouth already in a wide smile. He was wearing wide black trousers with a fitted simple black shirt, and orange converse sneakers.

“Sorry I’m late,” you spoke softly as he stood close to you.  “Had a bit of an outfit crisis.”

Not moving his feet, he leaned his body closer to yours until the sleeve of his shirt brushed your arm. His shoulder bumping yours, he slid a hand around your waist so that it rested on the small of your back.

With a light pressure against your dress, he drew you in closer so your side was pressed against his. Feeling a puff of air as he exhaled hit the side of your neck, his head lightly dipped down until his lips neared your ear.

“You look stunning,” he murmured. You shivered under his touch, even in his warm embrace. Eyes darting around you, feeling a bit lost just in the moment the both of you had shared. You felt a quick kiss pressed to your temple, before his face retreated from yours.

You could feel heat spread across your chest along with a little flutter in your stomach that somehow made you even warmer. Momentarily not knowing what to say, you faced him with a smile. “Thank you.”

His hand lingered over the fabric of your dress for a moment longer, before it fell to his side along with a little step away from you. Although with your shoulder still against his, you remained close to him as you both turned back to the painting that you had been observing.

“What do you think about this one?” Harry’s voice was low in your ear.

You opened your mouth, not really knowing how to tell him that you didn’t like it one bit. “It’s very… beige.”

“I agree,” he hummed. A touch of his fingertips on your arm pulled your eyes away from the art, arm jumping just the slightest at the contact. With a loose grip of his fingers around your wrist, he was soon tugging you by the arm across the floor of the gallery. “I’ll show you the good stuff,” he said, keeping his voice low.

He pulled you around the curved corner, into the second part of the gallery. You immediately noticed the lights on this side were a bit dimmer, a warmer glow to them rather than a harsher white light.

“All these in here are done by my friend, Yanis.” He hummed, stopping in front of one of the large paintings on the wall with a light drop of your arm from his hand.

“I helped out with a few, but really it's all him.”

“You helped out with some?” You turned to catch a glance at Harry.

He nodded. “Here and there – nothing that big. He just needed a hand.”

“That’s sweet,” you hummed. You liked that, them helping each other out with their paintings. It was just all so uplifting and supportive.

Just as Harry’s mouth opened to speak, his name was called by a deep and unfamiliar voice to you. You both turned, seeing a shorter man with black curly hair in a bun approach the both of you.

“We were just talking about you,” the man spoke towards Harry, his eyes pausing on you for a moment before he turned back to Harry with a raised eyebrow.

Your name left Harry’s lips – introducing you to his friend.

“I’m Yanis. So, you’re the famous barista Harry’s been telling me about?”

You smiled at his words, eyes flicking to where Harry stood next to you and watched the pink tint the tip of his ears. “Famous?”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Only famous one here is you, Yanis. The show looks like a big hit.”

You didn’t miss how quickly he changed the subject, but you turned back to Yanis. “It really does look incredible. I haven’t seen everything yet but I already like what I see.”

You mentally cringed, still feeling like a bit of an idiot whenever you tired to compliment art. You really needed to learn the right things to say.

Just as you were about to try and say something else, two more people joined Harry’s friend on either side of him.

“There you are!” A tall dark-haired woman spoke towards Harry. She was wearing a red shirt that matched her long skirt, with platform shoes and an array of necklaces. “I was worried you had left.”

“Just showing my friend around,” Harry spoke your name smoothly. You didn’t dwell on the way he had called you his friend, but it also didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh,” she turned her attention to you, while Yanis and the other man seemed to begin a new conversation. “Sorry, I’m Rory.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled in her direction. You saw her give your appearance a quick once over, and you especially saw the way her full attention turned back to Harry.

“Everything looks so great,” she spoke towards him.

“It’s all this guy.” Harry let his hand fall onto his friend's shoulder, giving it a little pat. “We were just starting to look around actually, so I’ll catch up with you lot in a bit.”

In a quick move, Harry’s hand was brushing against your lower back, and he was guiding you towards the wall on the opposite end. You felt his fingers bunch lightly in the thin fabric of your blouse, side pressing lightly against yours.

“Sorry –” he muttered, leaning a bit closer to you as the both of you stopped in front of a painting across from where you had been previously standing. There was a sea of red and pink mountains, along with a bright blue skin and big yellow sun. “Knew we could get stuck there for a while – wanted you to see everything first.”

You only hummed in response, a small nod in your head as you kept your eyes forward. Although you did find yourself so drawn to the art on the wall, you couldn’t help but let your mind spin and spin around until the words were falling from your mouth.

“Rory,” you murmured, bottom lip between your teeth, “she has a thing for you, no?”

You could hear Harry pause from next to you, “I – yeah. Well, no – we used to date.”

Only nodding, you kept your eyes forward although you knew Harry was burning holes into the side of your face.

“We still kind of run in the same circle – it ended a long time ago I didn’t –”

He stopped rambling when you turned to face him. “It’s okay,” you forced a little laugh to your voice. “I was just wondering.”

Harry fell quiet again, as you turned back to the paintings on the wall in front of you. “I’m really happy you came with me,” he whispered, lips nearing your ear after a moment. “I’m really happy you’re here.” 

You turned your head around, glancing at him over your shoulder. He didn’t move away from you, hand on your back giving your hip a little squeeze before slipping away from your body. He hit your hand with his, letting his hand fall to his side.

The words he spoke were swimming through your head, having you bite your lips together to fight off a wide smile. Just the way he was looking at you made your knees weak.

“Okay,” you whispered, lips clamped together as you turned back around.

You spent the next few hours walking around, looking at everything, chatting with Harry’s friends. You had gotten along well with Yanis, he had talked at length about the series that was being exhibited and you were honestly in awe of everyone’s talent and creativity.

It was about half past ten and you were just heading back from a quick trip to the restroom, when your name being spoken had you looking around to see who it was.

Rory was slightly towering over you as she neared you, speaking your name again to grab your attention. “Haven’t gotten the chance to chat with you, how are you liking the show?”

Trying your best to hide the shock from your face, you sent her a smile as she stopped next to you. “I really like it – haven’t been to too many shows if I’m being honest, but this is for sure one of the best I’ve been too.”

“Yeah, Yanis really did amazing with everything – Harry too.”

You only nodded, not too sure what to respond in the moment. She kept speaking. “How long have the two of you been seeing each other?”

The question took you a bit by surprise, but at the same time didn’t shock you all that much. “Oh, we’re not –”

You cut yourself off, and she took the moment to speak again. “Sorry I don’t mean to put you on the spot, we’re all just a bit nosy about Harry’s life sometimes.”

Nodding, you couldn’t help the way your eyes narrowed slightly on her. “It’s no problem,” you shot her a small smile.

“Do you make art as well?” She changed the subject.

“No,” you caught Harry’s eye from across the floor of the gallery, “God no, I can barely take a decent picture. What about you?”

“Oh, sorry I just kind of assumed! But yes, I have my own practice. Mostly installation, plus some two-dimensional work as well as some performances here and there.”

Again, you wished you fully understood everything that was being discussed. “That’s so cool,” was all you said.

“Thank you,” she smiled down at you. “What do you do for work?”

“I uhm –” feeling somehow small for the words you were about to speak and a small pit of anxiety at the bottom of your stomach. “I work in a café.”

“She manages a café,” Harry’s voice surprised you slightly as it was suddenly heard from next to you. You turned, seeing him take a few more steps towards you and stopped when he was right next to you, facing Rory.

He was surprised to see the two of you speaking in the first place, a maybe the slightest bit worried when he saw the way you were slightly recoiling away from her.

“Oh nice!” She seemed a bit surprised from Harry’s arrival as well. “Sorry,” she paused, her eyes flitting over to somewhere behind you. “I just saw a friend I wanted to chat with before she leaves – it was nice meeting you!”

And then she was off.

You were quiet for a second, as you felt Harry’s hand brush over your middle. You barely registered the movement, bottom lip between your teeth as you felt a bit lost in your head – just the slightest offput from the conversation you had just had.

“Are you enjoying yourself?"

Harry’s voice pulled your attention away from your thoughts, shooting him a quick glance as his words registered. You nodded, a smile pulling at your lips as you saw his eyes never leave yours. “Yeah, I am.”

“Wanna get out of here?”

You fully turned to face him, standing in front of him. He saw your gaze flick between his, curious look in your eyes. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” he paused. Unable to help his eyes from falling down to your mouth, he watched the way the lightly shining lips were curved in a smile. “I just remembered something I read in a horoscope. And I was thinking … fancy a star-gazing stroll?”

It was your turn to pause, fully turning on your feet until you were standing directly in front of him. He could tell that you were trying to keep the smile from growing on your lips, but the gleam in your eyes immediately gave you away.

“I think I read something about that somewhere too,” was all you said, speaking quietly enough for just the two of you. The teasing tone of your voice, paired with the way your eyes seemed to glow more with every passing second sent a warmth straight through Harry’s stomach.

“Is that a yes?”

You let out what could only be called a giggle. “Yeah, it is.” 

Harry didn’t try to hide his giddiness a single bit and sent a short nod towards you before he was again leading you through the gallery. With a quick stop by Yanis to give him a hug and congratulate him, and a wave on your part before he was pulling you out of the gallery.

He was a few steps in front of you, holding the glass door open as you stepped out next to him. This time, he didn’t try and hide the way his eyes fell to eye your outfit, eyelids dropping slightly with a smirk on his lips.

“Christ,” he muttered, joining you by your side. He watched the way you obviously noticed his stare, giving him a small shove with your shoulder. “You really do look stunning.”

“You already said that,” you hummed. 

“Needed to be said again,” he couldn’t help but brush his fingertips over the raised orange embroidery that went up your side. “Also, I don’t know if you noticed sunshine, but we match.”

Sunshine.

You glanced down his outfit from the corner of your eye. The dark hues of both outfits along with a splash of orange looked like you guys had almost planned it. “I did notice, actually.”

“I think that’s quite sexy of us.”

You laughed, following Harry along the sidewalk.

The air outside had cooled down a bit, still warm enough that you were perfectly content in what you were wearing but not so hot that your skin felt sticky.

Harry led the way through the emptying streets, walking so close that it seemed every other step his hand hit yours. He really felt like he had been flirting with the idea of grabbing your hand for what, maybe a week now? He just wanted to grab you, hold you close.

Hell, he had been a lot closer to you than that before.

Walking through a darkened alleyway to take a quick short cut, you shuffled even closer to him. You kept your eyes focused on your surroundings out of habit, even if you were trusting where Harry was bringing you.

It was then that when his hand hit yours, it didn’t move away like it usually did and instead his pinky finger caught your own and soon he was lacing every last one of his fingertips with yours until your palms kissed.

Harry kept his gaze forward, but from the corner of his eye he saw you shoot your newly intertwined hands a quick look. While revelling in the way that your palm felt in his, and in the way that  every finger laced with his seemed to cause a tiny jolt to go  straight  through his body, he nearly missed the way you pulled yourself even closer into him.

By the time the water was invading your sight, after about fifteen minutes or so of walking in peaceful silence, Harry noticed the way you were walking so close to him your head was nearly resting on his shoulder.

He basked in the way you seemed to draw into him as much as he did you, and the way that you urged to be close to him and feel yourself against him just as much. The thought itself sent a new wave of butterflies straight through his stomach, clouding his mind as his pace slowed near the water. 

Clearing his throat, he turned to catch a glance at you. “I remember you telling me how you like to walk along the river, but you didn’t get to do it that often.”

Smiling softly at the memory of the conversation the two of you shared after running into each other at the grocery store; you thought of that as the first time you really felt captivated by Harry.

“Is this kind of what you meant?” He asked.

You glanced around, seeing a wooden boardwalk start not too far off. “Not quite.”

Turning around and tugging him by the hand, following the expanse of the water until your shoes were walking over wooden boards that hovered above the river.

Your pace slowed even more, your hand fell from his grip as you glanced around and took in the sights around you. It was a relatively calm night out, no harsh winds upsetting the murky waters. The lights ended by the street, only a soft hue for the two of you as the boats docked out on the water were barely in sight.

There didn’t seem to be any other people out near you – then realizing that you had no idea what time it was, something that wasn’t often the case and something that you enjoyed a great deal.

The moon was high and bright in the sky, with the few stars that could be seen dusting the sky. It was for sure a star-gazing stroll, just as Harry promised.

“Looks like a painting,” you spoke from next to him, gaze out over the moving surface of the water.

Nearing the railing, the two of you took slow steps along the wooden boards. Harry laughed softly from next to you, the sound carrying in the empty space.

“Have you always been into painting?” You asked, eyes trained on the wood in front of you.

Harry hummed next to you. “I think so, yeah. I guess you could say I was drawn to the arts since I was young, I remember my mum bought me a little painting kit when I was like seven or eight.”

You nodded as he continued to speak. “Started a bit more seriously through school, like getting into techniques and stuff. But I never thought I would ever try and make a career out of it or anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” Harry paused, hand pushing through his hair. “I actually studied marketing for a bit, thought I would go into business or something like that.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped past your lips, surprised by the news. “I’m sorry but I can’t picture you as a business student.”

“Yeah,” his cheeks dimpled. “Neither can I. Left after nearly two years. Then I started taking a few painting courses at a local art store and I’ve been doing just that ever since.”

“Wow,” you breathed out. “And your family they were – I mean you made everything work out for you?”

He nodded again. “Obviously I kept a job for a while, I was actually working at that little art shop for a few years too. My family was okay with it – my mum especially was always supportive. I remember when I told her I wanted to leave school to work on art she said she couldn’t imagine me doing anything else.”

“I love that,” you hummed, biting your lips together. A small part of you wished that you had that kind of unconditional support. But you kept your lips together and pushed the thoughts from your head, not wanting to bring down the mood.

“I send her some of my paintings; take them off the frame and roll them up for her. Her and my sister flew out and came to my first show over here – even though I only had two works in it.”

Mentally giving yourself a pat on the back for having correctly assumed Harry couldn’t have been an only child with the way he acted. You really did love when your hunch about someone was proven right.

“That’s really sweet,” you smiled at him. “You must miss them.”

“I do, yeah.” He hummed, catching your eyes with his for a second. “But I am glad to have moved out here. I felt like it could be temporary – I would love to live in London someday but I’m really happy to be here.”

Only nodding, you felt yourself getting lost in your own thoughts for a brief second before Harry pulled you back out of them. “What about you, you miss home much?”

Shrugging, you didn’t know what to say. “I mean a bit, in the way that anyone gets nostalgic. But,” you took a breath.

“I know this sounds terrible but honestly I don’t. It’s… exhausting to be home. I moved further away for school for a reason.”

You didn’t know what else to say, hoping that Harry would jump in with something else. You shot him a quick look, seeing his eyes intent on yours as he listened and waited for you too keep speaking.

“That’s not terrible,” he spoke quietly, after a few more seconds in silence.

You hummed, not sure what to say. Walking in silence for a few more moments and taking another breath before you chose to speak again. “My parents live hours away from each other now anyway, so I feel like there’s not really a home to go back to, you know?”

“I’m sorry,” Harry’s voice was soft.

“You don’t need to apologize,” you smiled, small shrug in your shoulders. “Nothing to be sorry for. I’m happy to have moved away – happy to be here too.”

Harry remained quiet, giving you the chance to go on if you wanted to. Although right now you really didn’t want to – you were having such a good evening and you didn’t want to bring any of that down by discussing your family.

Quietly walking side by side, with only the moon and the stars surrounding the both of you, Harry cleared his throat once more.

“So, what was it again that you like about this place?”

“Just the mood of it,” you shot him a glance. “Something about walking along the wood – I just really like it. And I like the smell too, I know it’s probably diesel and chemicals but it’s just oddly nostalgic for me for no real reason.”

“I see that,” Harry smiled. “So other than walking out here, what other small things make you happy?”

You were confused for a second, Harry further explaining himself after you didn’t answer.

“Just like, anything that could seem insignificant that you enjoy for whatever reason at all.”

“Oh,” you hummed, a small smile tugged at your lips at the question. You didn’t know why it made your heart soar that he was asking you about this – but it just did.

“This is really dumb,” you said after a moment. “But at work, I really like it when an older customer – they’re usually regulars – when they come in with their book and they get a coffee and a little cake or a treat and just sit there for hours.”

Pausing, not sure how to explain how you felt because right now it just sounded like any other interaction with a patron. “It's a happy-sad feeling – I don’t really know why. I love that coming into my café and having a chat with me is part of their routine, but there’s also something that just makes me feel the tiniest bit sad…”

Harry remained silent, letting you explain yourself. “It’s like, sometimes you watch a movie that has a happy ending, but you can’t help but feel the slightest bit melancholic, you know?”

Your eyes darted over to him, seeing him nod. “I know the feeling, yeah.”

Harry had never really thought about that before, never paying too close attention to the other patrons when he frequented your café. “You pay close attention to a lot of regulars, huh? I thought I was special.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as your shoulder bumped his.

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” you teased, feeling his pace slow down, deciding to stop where you were.  You leant up against the railing that  kept you from the water.

“What about you?” You turned to him. “I know you said you didn’t want to share much about the paintings you're working on currently, but what’s something small that you like to pay attention to for your art?”

“I don’t want to bore you with every detail…” he started out, feeling like he had been speaking about his practice the entire time.

You shook your head. “I want to hear about your art – I like it.”

Harry slipped his lips between his teeth, head dipping down for a second as he felt his cheeks blush. “Well,” he started. “My current work is still very much in progress – not really ready for anyone to see or hear about it just yet.”

“But right now – or for the past year or so I’ve been really paying attention to moments between people.”

“Just … small touches or moments of intimacy, you know? Like seeing someone rest their head on someone else’s shoulder, seeing two people hug in a big crowd. Just small moments like that where you know that they’re in their own world.”

You were quiet, even after he was done speaking. Leaning your forearms against the wooden railing, feet kicking at nothing on the ground. You saw exactly what he explained – about the little touches of public, yet private, intimacy.

“I know what you mean,” you finally said, voice quiet as it carried over the space between the two of you. Harry has his back against the railing as he keeps his eyes on you.

After he realized you weren’t going to say anything else, he kept speaking. “It’s nice, you know? Seeing people wrapped up in their … love and adoration for each other like that.”

You hummed, his words swimming through your head. “Guess I never really thought about that –” cutting yourself off, before continuing even quieter, “– guess I haven’t really experienced it like that.”

Another wave of silence washed over you, before Harry turned in his place so that he could face you directly.

The reflection of the moon rippled in the water. “Have you ever been in love?”

His words caught you slightly off guard.

You had been in relationships, sure. You’d had partners tell you that they loved you, and maybe once or twice you returned the sentiment. But you didn’t really know what it meant.

“I –” you paused. “I don’t know.”

“You say that a lot.”

You could just make out Harry’s expression. The lighting was sparse, but every little dip and curve on his features were clear as day, and his eyes held that little smile they often did.

“I know,” the words were too small puffs of air past your lips.

You held your breath in, before continuing. “I’ve always thought that I’d know, but I feel like I’ve never been in it in the way that you described. Not fully. I – I don’t know.”

The way he looked at you made your heart beat just a bit faster in your chest, so loud you were sure he must be able to hear it.

“It’s okay to not know,” he spoke so softly. You didn’t even realize you were leaning in closer to him until your knee bumped his.

“Have you?” You cleared your throat, the noise breaking through the otherwise quiet surrounding. “Have you ever been in love?”

You didn’t know why you were so afraid of his answer.

“I think so, or,” Harry paused, a small furrow in his brow as his eyes were still intent on yours. “I thought so.”

This time, your heart stopped.

“Thought so?” Voice sounding a bit hoarse, you again found yourself afraid of his answer.

There was a small shrug in his shoulders. You couldn’t help but briefly think about Rory, about whether he was ever in love with her, but you shook the thought from your head.

“I guess… I guess I’ve been heartbroken before. I’ve loved, for sure. But I don’t know if I was really in love. If that makes sense.”

Maybe he really was just as confused as you were.

“I guess you don’t know until you’re really in it.” He had his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I guess you don’t,” you repeated.

What Harry wanted to tell you, was that he had never felt the way he did when he was with you.

He also didn’t know how to tell you – he really felt like he didn’t know anything at that moment either.

He was drawn to you from the first moment he had spoken to you, and found himself unable to ever get enough every time he saw you. It had been over a month and a half since he’d first walked into your café, since he’d first met you, and he couldn’t believe the way you made him swoon.

But he didn’t truly realize that, and the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off.

So instead, he reached forward so that his palm could rest under your jaw and stepped a tad closer to you. He saw you visibly leaning in to his touch, your eyelashes hitting the top of your cheeks for a brief moment with a slow blink.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” he whispered, voice low as his knuckles brushed over your jaw.

You nearly sighed at his touch, butterflies in your stomach erupting once again when he spoke so softly. He always seemed to be able to grab such a strong hold on you – both physically and metaphorically – but all while treating you with the gentlest of touches. “Of course.”

“I really,” he paused with his own sigh. Hand on your jaw sliding over your skin, grabbing a light hold at the back of your neck. “I really like spending time with you like this.”

Only able to nod, almost having to look away from his intense gaze. There was nothing else to look at though, nothing else you wanted to look at. 

“Me too.” The words were barely there, just a pass of air from the back of your throat.

You felt his other hand smooth over your spine, fingertips finding your waist as he seemed to be blindly tracing the raised orange embroidery on your dress. Further leaning into his touch, you knew your eyes were darting all around his face as you were unable to focus on just one thing.

His own eyes fell down once more to the curve of your lips, and you felt them fall parted with your tongue wetting them on instinct.

“Can I kiss you?”

Nearly wanting to giggle at the question, as he had done much more than kiss you in the past week, and since the question seemed to be just a little late, but a laugh was the last thing on your mind right then.

All you could do was nod in his grasp, your eyes never leaving his – not for one single second. After a heavy swallow and a raspy little “yes” leaving your mouth, you let your hands fall to his shoulders to embrace him closer.

He pulled you closer in a quick motion, hand on your back holding you tight. Your chest fell against his, head remaining upright with his thumb still under your jaw.

Lips pressing against yours lightly at first, like whispers of a kiss against your mouth. He pecked two, three, four kisses on your lips like that before you edged your jaw forward and let him fully capture your mouth.

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears when he fully pressed his lips against yours, with just enough pressure and desire to make your head spin. A little gasp escaped the back of your throat when he grabbed hold of your bottom lip between his, a soft nip of his teeth against the sensitive skin.

Lips parted together, never able to get enough of the way he felt against you. Harry’s tongue heatedly pushed past your lips mouth gladly opening for him. He grazed into your mouth, arm around you pulling you closer to him. Hot breath mixing together, he pushed your back against the railing behind you just a bit more so that his hips could press with yours.

His hand on your back had migrated, dancing over the curve of your bum before sliding around and giving your hip a sharp squeeze. It never rested in one place, as if he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your body against his.

You returned his fervour, one hand smoothing over his neck until your fingertips were being pushed through his hair. Fist closing as you tugged gently on his hair, eliciting a little groan from Harry before he was licking into you once more.

Minutes passed, you had no idea how long the two of you spent like that under the stars and the moon.

He pulled away, barely, for a breath with heavy eyelids trained on you. His forehead was a millimetre away, loose curls brushing over your skin and tip of his lips brushing yours when he spoke.

“I,” he sighed, voice sounding so close to you as your eyelids just barely opened. “I – you’re unreal.”

His voice rasped slightly, as if he had just been woken up. The way he murmured  quietly against you had your head spinning, thinking about how he would sound moaning your name. 

Just as he was moving in to capture your lips with his one more time, a quiet buzzing was heard from somewhere. It took you a moment to register that it was your phone that was sitting in your purse.

“I think that’s yours,” Harry chuckled quietly, air hitting your lips as he spoke.

“Oh, fuck I’m sorry,” you pulled your arms away from him, fingers fumbling with the zipper of your bag. Pulling your phone out, you saw your brother's name flash across the screen.

You knew you should answer it, but you didn’t want to and he had already interrupted you. Declining the call with a text, telling him you couldn’t talk right now, you placed your phone back into your bag.

“Sorry about that,” you hummed, gazing back up at Harry.

“It’s not a problem,” he grinned down at you, a hand still wrapped around your waist. “It is getting late though, let me get you home, yeah?”

Waking up to a ringing phone wasn’t ideal. Especially early on your day off.

At first you thought it was your alarm, and you tried to snooze it. And then when it started ringing again, you slowly blinked yourself out of sleep to squint at the phone screen.

Realizing it was a call, realizing it was a call from your boss at seven in the morning, you sprang up.

“Hello?”

She spoke your name, seemingly relieved to hear you answering the phone. “I’m so sorry to be calling you, I know it’s your day off.”

“It’s okay,” your voice was groggy. “What’s up?”

“No one’s at the shop right now – no one’s opened.”

You jumped out of bed this time, double checking the clock on your phone to see it five minutes past seven. “What?!”

“I happened to check the cameras this morning, and no one is there. Do you think you could head over there to open?”

You let out a sigh, hearing the desperation in her voice. She was away at the moment, otherwise you knew she would do it herself. It was also lucky that she could check the security cameras from her phone, something you knew she did very rarely.

“It would just be for a bit; I can get a hold of someone else to finish off the rest of the shift.”

“Yeah I can go over,” you were already looking for your pants. “I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

“Thank you so much,” she rushed through the phone. “Noah was supposed to open today I think, right? I’ve been trying to get a hold of him but not luck so far.”

After getting off the phone with your boss, you quickly pulled on jeans and a bra, a baggy shirt over the rest of your body before jumping to the washroom.

There had been moments where you had to get ready in a rush before, of course you had, it happened to everyone to sleep past their alarm. But the magic of the opening shift is that even if you were late to the beginning of the shift, it was always possible to get there before the café actually opened.

Today you didn’t have that pleasure, you would likely be arriving after half past seven at the earliest.

Mentally cursing Noah, you tried to the best with your hair you possibly could and roughly rubbed in some moisturizer into your skin before you were running out the door.

After a not so elegant speed walk down the street, you were unlocking the café doors and unfortunately leaving the door propped open for anyone to walk in.

And to your displeasure, people did walk in. You had a grumbling regular who was mad he couldn’t come in bright and early, you had a big family grabbing an early breakfast, you just had too many people asking you for things all while trying to open the café.

It was only after an hour that things settled a bit, that you were able to catch a breather and actually grab yourself a glass of water.

You were sat on the little stool in the back room, keeping your eye on the front counter in case anyone showed up. Updating Grace, your boss and owner of the café, on how everything was fine on your end and that you still hadn’t heard a peep from Noah who was the one supposed to open today.

It was just as you sent him one more text, that your name was heard from a familiar voice. You saw Harry poking his head through the doorway, both of your expressions mirroring the others in your surprise.

“Hey,” you sighed, running a hand over your hair, knowing you looked a bit a mess. Standing from the stool, you walked the short distance to the doorway as you leant up against it with your glass in hand.

“I thought you were off today?” He grinned dimples showing on his cheeks. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, I just – didn’t expect it is all.”

“I am,” you couldn’t help the hint of bitterness in your tone. “No one came in to open this morning – I got called in.”

You saw his eyebrows fall to a small furrow. “Oh fuck. How does that happen, no one opening?”

Only shrugging your shoulders, you took another sip of your water. You couldn’t help but gently shut your eyes, feeling your exhaust slowly overcome you.

“I don’t know. Can’t get a hold of the person who was supposed to open. I mean I’m assuming that they’re just still sleeping or something.”

“That’s shitty, and on your day off too.”

“It’s okay,” you shot him a small smile. “At least I don’t have to work the full shift today, just opening and I should be off soon, someone else is coming in to finish the shift. Did you want to get a coffee?”

“Uhm – if you were taking a little break its okay, I don’t need to –”

You cut him off with a laugh. “Stop that, I’ll get you a coffee.”

“Just to go for today,” he spoke, as you were tamping the espresso grounds. Nodding as you grabbed a paper to go cup, placing it under the portafilter and pressing the button to begin the slow and steady pour of espresso.

“What do you have going on today?” You asked, keeping your eyes on the passing seconds of the espresso pour.

“I’m actually headed over to Yanis’ place – a few of us are working on a collaboration piece together.”

“That’s so cool,” you smiled, sliding the to-go cup over to him as he grabbed a lid from where they were on the counter.

“What about you?” He returned your grin. “Get some sleep after this impromptu morning shift and before another week of work?”

“Oh, I’m actually going to be off for the next week or so,” you spoke absentmindedly. “My brother is coming to stay with me.”

“That’ll be good,” Harry mused from across you, having never heard you speak about your brother.

You only sighed, his words not really registering. “I guess.”

Not wanting to think too much about the week you were going to have to spend with your brother, you cleaned out the portafilter and tried to change the subject. “What are you working on with everyone?”

Harry was quiet for a second, eyes intent on you before he cleared his throat and answered. “It's all Yanis’ idea – he wanted a big collaboration but really, he’s the brains behind everything. We’re just starting today so honestly I’m not really sure what will come of it.”

“That sounds like it’s gonna be good,” you grinned.

“I hope so –” he paused, checking his phone, “sorry I have to head out. But I hope your day gets better and I’ll see you soon!”

You waved as he left, only a few more minutes into you were able to leave the café.

You physically felt your shoulders drop when you saw Aleena walk through the door. She had been scheduled to work today already, just coming in a bit earlier to give you a big helping hand.

“Thank you so much,” was the first thing you said when you saw her. “You are the absolute best. I promise I’ll buy you a drink, or dinner.”

She laughed. “No need for that, really. Should be Noah buying both of us dinner.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, nodding your head. “He really should be.”

She clocked in, and you waited a second before speaking again. “Is it okay if I head out now? I can stay and help if you need me to but –”

She cut you off. “Go, go. I know you have to go get your brother later today, and I’m sure you don’t want to be here right now.”

You could kiss her. “Really, thank you so much.”

You were rushing out of the café after grabbing your bag. You wanted to shower as soon as you got home, hopefully having the time for a little nap before you had to go over to the airport to greet your brother.

Just as you were turning the corner away from the café, a familiar outfit across the street caught your attention. You recognized Harry, nearly amused to see him still so close to the café. Your pace slowed down slightly, you were considering catching his attention or maybe just yelling his name across the street as you didn’t really have time to stop and chat once again.

Although any idea you had fell out of your head when you saw two more people with him, getting a better view of them as you walked along your side of the street. You recognized one of those people to be Yanis, and after a small squint you realized who the other person was.

You kept walking, eyes flitting over to the group across the street a few more times before you turned another corner and away from them. You knew you had no reason to be upset, or not upset, annoyed that Harry was spending time with his ex.

He had mentioned that they both still ran in the same circles, but you didn’t imagine that meant hanging out just on the daily. Or maybe not the daily, in fact you had no idea how often they spent time together. He had never mentioned her to you before, and you tried not to feel overly annoyed because you knew you had no real right to.

This just wasn’t coming out to be a very good day for you.

Trying to push everything about Harry and Rory out of your mind, you rushed the rest of the way home as you were slightly dreading the fact that in a few hours you were going to have to head over and greet your brother at the airport.

The first day with your brother was okay.

You were never that close growing up, for no particular reason. It wasn’t until you grew older that you realized you wished you had a better relationship with him, that you wished you could be like those siblings on TV.

He tormented you, in the way that older brothers usually did, but there was never a good side to your relationship with him. It got to a point where you began to realize that you nearly resented people for how close they were with their siblings.

Ever since your parent’s divorce, the two of you somehow grew closer and further apart. Closer in the sense that now it truly was the two of you against them, but further apart because your lives were in such different places.

He always knew  what he wanted to do in life, and he was currently doing well for himself. He had gotten married already, and was living in a nice apartment that was also close to both your parents, much closer than you were.

He was going to be spending three days with you, his idea. You knew it would be bad to say no, knowing deep down that you needed to maintain a relationship with him. You loved him – he was your brother but you didn’t necessarily want to spend three days with him.

You always came out of any interaction – even a phone call with him – exhausted and anxious about the state your life was in.

Since you were going to be taking some time off anyway, you decided to give yourself an extra two days off just so you can have some time for yourself and didn’t need to jump right back into work.

“How’s Sophie?” You asked your brother about his wife, as you unpacked some groceries you got after meeting him at the airport. They had gotten married nearly two years ago.

“We’re good, she’s good,” he seemed to pause, sitting in your recently deep cleaned kitchen.

“Yeah?” You probed further, noticing his sudden hesitation.

“She’s actually – she’s pregnant.”

You nearly dropped the knife you had just grabbed. “What?”

He nodded. “She’s due next March. We’re really excited.”

“Oh my God –” you muttered, still in the headspace where when you heard when you heard the word ‘pregnant’ it was usually followed by anxiety not joy, even if some of your friends from college had kids of their own as well.

“Congratulations,” you snapped out of it. “That’s – that’s great! Congratulations, I’m sure she’s really happy.”

“Yeah, she is. We both are.”

“That’s great,” you repeated, turning back around and busying yourself with starting to prepare dinner.

He was quiet for a second. “How about you, are you seeing anyone?”

You very rarely shared details of your personal life with your brother, unless specifically asked. And even then, it was all very vague.

“Uhm,” you didn’t know why you were pausing; you knew your answer. The question was simple, the answer was just as simple – but for some reason the reality seemed much more complicated.

But you really didn’t want to talk about that now, especially not with your brother. “No, not really.”

You only heard him hum from behind you, before he spoke again. “Oh. You know I was talking with mom – you know she was younger than you when she had me.”

Christ.

“I know,” you only muttered, not giving him the satisfaction of getting upset over his words.

“All I’m saying,” he could likely sense your annoyance. “Is that I know you’re having fun out here in the city and whatever, but you’re nearly thirty.”

You spun around, unable to hide your anger. “I’m not nearly thirty. I’m in my mid-twenties – and even if I was, so what? There’s no timeline I need to be following.”

“I’m just saying” he put up his hands in defense, as if you had been attacking him unprovoked.

You had to tell yourself to not continue down this path, he wouldn’t budge in what he was saying. “How’s work going?” He said instead.

Again, something else you didn’t feel too keen on discussing with him. “Fine.”

“If you wanted to get your foot into something else, I can probably help you with something at my company.”

Your jaw clenched. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

“Seriously – even in the New York office I could help you out. You’d probably need to intern first –”

“I said it was fine,” you cut him off, feeling worn. “Thank you, but I’m okay with what I’m doing.”

Again, he only put his hands up as if he was doing nothing wrong. You willed yourself to not feel too angry over it, knowing that you were already mentally tired and if you kept speaking with him about this you might start crying – something he’d only use against you.

After a few much needed topic changes, dinner was ready and you were playing a show the both of you used to enjoy when you were in secondary school. You didn’t go to bed very late, making his bed on the couch before you headed off to sleep as well.

Only two more days, you told yourself. It would be fine – it was your brother and everything was going to be fine.

Settling yourself into bed, phone in hand as you tentatively typed in Harry’s username into Instagram. You found it quickly, seeing him having no new posts since the time you and Mae had looked over his page. Although, there was a little circle around his icon showing that he had a story.

Curiosity getting the best of you, knowing full well your own username would show up if he were to check who was looking at his story, you tapped on the icon.

Holding your thumb down on the single picture eyeing over the three accounts that were tagged in the story.

You paused when you read over a username that contained the name ‘Rory’.

So he had been spending the day with her.

You tapped on her username, watching the app take you to her account. It was a public page, with a pretty hefty following. You scrolled through rows of images, tapping on a few here and there to further inspect the posts. Most were about her art, some pictures of herself and her friends here and there but nothing out of the ordinary for a twenty-something woman.

Holy shit. You were about two years deep on her account, seeing pictures from a show she had in Berlin. You couldn’t help feel the slightest bit impressed.

Going over to her tagged photos, you scrolled a bit seeing mostly photos with friends and a few of what you figured were her art works.

The one that caught your eye, though, was a painting that seemed familiar to you for some reason.

Going over to the image, you realized why there was an air of familiarity to it. The picture was from Harry’s Instagram, a painting he had done of her back in early 2018.

His style had seemingly slightly evolved since then, but it was still very much him. The painting was of the side of her face, the setting around her not very defined so all the focus was on her profile. She was looking away, the side of her face painted in hues of gold and yellow that blended into her dark hair.

Green and yellow surrounded her, like she was outside during a sunset – it was a beautiful painting of her. The caption read “inspiration”.

You shrank back into bed.

The post was about two and a half years ago, it was in the past and you shouldn’t be overthinking it. But you felt small in comparison.

She had clearly been his muse, of some kind and the fact that he was still spending time with her just was sitting right with you.

You knew, a huge part of you knew that you shouldn’t be thinking about this. You tried to think back to all the stomach fluttering and weak-kneed kisses he had given you, the way that every touch of his skin on yours felt so right.

You thought back to the other night, the nearly romantic conversation you had shared before he kissed any anxiety or fear out of you.

But still, a smaller but louder part of you was telling you that it didn’t mean as much as you originally thought it did.

The day seemed to be one thing after another, and just as you were about to shut off your phone and try not to cry because you knew it’d make you feel silly, your phone buzzed with a text.

Again, this day was just one thing after another. It was Grace, your boss, asking you to cover Noah’s shift tomorrow. He had taken the weekend off last minute, and his 9-3 tomorrow couldn’t be covered by anyone else.

Typing back an annoyed ‘yes’, this time you couldn’t help but feel truly upset. You were exhausted from work, honestly. You knew you would still have some time off, and Grace was so kind to you, but you were just. Tired. 

[light-yaers]

No Saints: Chapter Two

This content is explicit and is 18+

Warnings: Graphic sexual content, violence, implied effects of PTSD, death and explicit language.

Read on Ao3 here | Fic Masterpost

Word Count - 5.7k

Chapter Two

If the time without Mando for those three weeks had led you to a mad sense of loneliness, the days after your previous encounter with him had driven you to insanity.

You woke the next morning with a start—the dream you’d been having was more than you’d ever bargained for. You cursed as you sat up in bed, bringing a hand down to between your thighs.

“Oh, fuck,” You let out breathily, before you had to laugh at yourself to move on from the absolute embarrassment that your own body had put you through. You showered immediately, indulging in the flood of hot water more that morning than you’d ever done previously.

You had to stare at yourself in the mirror afterwards, noticing the blush on your cheeks that was still present from the night before. You pointed at yourself sternly, towel wrapped around your uncontrollable body.

“Snap out of it—stop it,” You told yourself.

Never before had a man reduced you to a puddle with a single touch—of your legs. It wasn’t even anywhere remotely private, just the upper portions of your thighs. But that bottle; he’d known what he was doing, placing it almost harshly in the crevice closest to the most vulnerable asset your body possessed. Pushing your thighs together afterward had been the last straw. If he’d lingered, you wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d erupted just from the tension in the room, just from the involuntary clenching that your legs were betraying you with.

Mando would never find out about that dream, over your dead fucking body. You could almost imagine his reaction; the subtle chuckles from beneath his helmet, transforming into something else as he inched ever closer towards you, sprawled, ready—

“Kriff!” You yelled into the mirror. You shook your head a few times to get the image out of your head, before vowing not to go there, at least until your workday was done.

You grudgingly got ready to open up shop, checking inventory and wiping down your work desk. You wished you’d somehow dragged him to your bedroom instead the night before; seeing the desk in daylight only increased the tightness in your gut. Dank farrik... today wasn’t going to be easy.

But you endured.

You repaired blaster after blaster, adding modifications to old models and polishing until you thought your fingernails would fall off. You wasted no time over the blunt conversations with hunters, only saying what you needed to and waiting to get paid.

This went on all week. The same old grind, the same desperation within your gut. You tried to stay focused and productive, not stopping even for a minute, since your mind would immediately float back to the Beskar clad hunter if you did. You found yourself in your firing range a lot more often, choosing to practice and keep your mind straying from thoughts of him—

Thoughts that, despite the one-track mindedness of your pulsing heart, also ended up travelling to softer realms. You wondered if he was safe, if he was okay. You wondered if he was well-fed, well-hydrated, well-rested—

You wondered if he also felt the loneliness of his solitude more so after your last encounter. Stars, you wondered if he missed you.

I feared continuing to visit you would become a habit I could no longer break...

Oh, man. That sentence alone reduced you to a red-faced mess, but more so towards the gentler side of things. Mando had a heart, that was certain—he also had a cock, that was definitely certain. You slammed your fist on your work desk, making yourself jump at the sudden display of utter madness.

You’d never had to cope with this level of sexual frustration, but stars, it was real. You’d never been bothered, not really. Nevarro had been sparse in offering you that kind of intimacy, but you’d had it occasionally. A few visiting hunters, here and there, taken in by the immediate attraction of a cut-throat killer and the intelligence of a woman mechanic such as yourself.

But nothing had ever come of them; no weekly visits, no long term plans. You didn’t particularly want anything either. Having attachments only existed to make your life a lot more difficult, especially given the nature of most of the people you’d acquainted yourself with over the years.

There was no telling when they could accidentally mess up and never come back to collect their pay from Karga.

You realised that was why Mando had been so reluctant to return, after your small confession of enjoying his company. He, too, knew what his job entailed. God forbid, he never came back. God forbid, you were killed in your own shop. It was a definite possibility, but one that you didn’t often allow yourself to conceptualise.

You were too lost in thought to notice someone walk into the shop, but when you finally looked up, you immediately restored yourself to a professional.

“Can I help?” You asked, not wasting time to give him a smile. He was a young man, probably no older than yourself. His outfit was typical of all first-time Guild members; too big for their boots, too cocky looking with the way they peered around a room. They were the worst customers by far.

He sauntered up to the desk, slamming his blaster down and hardly meeting your eye. “Cartridge needs replacing,”

“Six hundred credits,” You said in return, not bothering with any niceties. “Upfront,” You added. Immediately he rolled his eyes, but nevertheless dug into his deep pockets.

“Seems a little pricy, don’t you think?” He perked his brow at you, finally meeting your eye, only to send you a playboy smirk.

“If you don’t like my prices, change the cartridge yourself,” You offered bluntly. He scoffed, going to place his credits on the desk, but he stopped abruptly. You sent him a questioning look, before he fully retracted his hand and put the credits back in his pocket.

“Four hundred,” He offered up. Your eyes widened immediately, as laughter burst from the back of your throat. You couldn’t stop the chuckles from escaping your mouth, all the while his face was dropping ever so slowly into a scowl.

“You’re really trying to haggle with me?” You let out, but your voice was already turning more poisonous. You got paid fucking pittance with the amount of work you actually got around here, and this fucking kid was really trying to undercharge you even more? No. Not fucking today. “Get out, kid,” You said, scowling at him warningly. “And good luck getting a cartridge change on this kriffing planet without me,”

He gulped worriedly, and you knew you’d got him. He started shuffling in his pockets again, getting out his credits once more.

“Okay—six hundred—,” He gave in.

“Eight hundred,” You interrupted. His face utterly dropped, revealing some of the wimpiest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen on Nevarro. This kid was lucky he hadn’t been beaten up in the bar already. He smelled like Daddy’s money and cockiness. “For that insulting attempt at a haggle, eight hundred. Upfront,”

You saw him struggle against the rising anger in his throat, just waiting for him to either explode, or hand over the credits like a good little boy. Either way, you were prepared for a fight. It’d been a while since a newcomer had challenged you; and you liked a challenge.

He pulled an empty hand out of his pockets slowly, as you watched him with an unbothered expression. He was seething, you could see the red winding its way up his neck—

And then his blaster was pointed at you, right between the eyes.

You let out a colossal sigh, but more than anything, you were sort of thankful. What a way to expel your frustrations this would be. The saddest part was, though, that this kid was just so stupid. He’d come in for a fucking cartridge replacement; that meant his gun was fucking caput. He wouldn’t have been able to shoot you even if he’d tried.

“You’re cute,” You let out finally, noticing the slight wobble of his arm the longer he kept up the act of being threatening. “Go on—shoot me,” You prompted, raising your arms in a fake surrender.

When he didn’t pull the trigger, you made it easier for him. You came out from behind the desk, walking round towards him. He began to falter, backing himself up into the corner of the shop. “Hey—just, wait—wait there!” He yelled, and you did as he said, rolling your eyes unenthusiastically.

“Come on, do it. I’m an unarmed, poor, alone woman in her little shop on such a horrible planet. Shoot me. You’d be doing me a favour,” You pouted at him sadly, taking a melodramatic approach before you knew what your plan would be—

Kicking his ass.

When you saw him falter, just for a second, you chose then to strike. You grabbed his blaster, pulling him towards you as you snapped your elbow down on his arm harshly—the crunch was enough to determine you’d just utterly broken his damn arm, but his screams were even more so in that favour—

He let out an excruciating groan, tearing up suddenly and dropping his blaster to the floor as his hand seized up. You pushed him away, hoisting a knee underneath his ribcage as he let out another yelp in pain. He stumbled back into the wall, next to the door, as tears slowly dragged down his cheeks. He was clutching his limp shooting arm close to his chest, taking in deep breaths and letting out wracking sobs.

Maybe I’m a sadist, but fuck this guy.

You couldn’t help but smile, going to pick up his blaster as he continued to whimper at his snapped arm. He lolled himself over to the door, slamming it open with his foot and backing out of your shop. You dangled his blaster in your hands, before fucking launching it at him—

He let out another yelp, ducking out of the way before it slammed right into his pretty boy face. You strode out of the shop, watching him flail about like a fish out of water to grab his gun, before booking it round the corner and probably off the planet as quickly as he could.

“Pleasure doing business with you!” You yelled after him, waving sweetly as the last of him disappeared round the corner of the street. “Prick,” You whispered under your breath, scoffing at the entire encounter with this kid.

Sure, you’d missed out on six hundred credits, but fuck it. Men were so quick to think they had the upper hand, especially the dumb ones. If a bounty hunter was experienced, they’d always have their guard up, no matter what you looked like at first glance, and they certainly wouldn’t have underpaid a Nevarro resident. That was a fucking death sentence. You just happened to be gentler.

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” His modulated drawl came from behind. Within seconds, your heart was in your throat. You turned to him, trying to ignore the way your face was immediately gaining colour.

You smiled at his helmet, taking him in wholeheartedly. God, you’d missed his silence. It was oddly comforting—not like white noise, not like static, but just the subtlety of his breaths travelling through the modulator.

“He had it coming,” You replied, taking a few strides towards him. “Little shit tried to haggle me for a fucking cartridge replacement,”

“I know,” Mando said. “I saw him go in,” He revealed. Pins and needles spread all over your body with no warning.

“You—saw all that?” You questioned, but by the amused tilt of his helmet, he’d already answered your question. He saw all of it. His visor probably had heat signature capabilities, which meant he’d seen you breaking his arm, kneeing him in his ribs and heard all the rest.

“You can fight,” He said it in the same tone as when he’d talked about your shooting. Like he was impressed. Or proud.

“There’s lots I can do,” You let out, allowing the cockiness of your voice to seep through. It was a joke, just an attempt at a laugh, but Mando took it in a different direction.

“I don’t doubt that,”

You tried not to utterly collapse as his tone turned into more of a growl. It hit you in your very core, causing that familiar feeling in your gut to start back up again, much against your efforts to push it down for the past week.

You headed back to the shop, Mando close on your tail. He shut the door behind him, and the sound of him twisting the lock hit your ears pleasantly.

He often did it, even before the subject of whatever this was between you had risen. Maybe he didn’t want people following him; didn’t want people catching on to his secrets of where the hell he was getting extra information.

“You’re back earlier than I thought you’d be,” You said, trying to spark a conversation like normal, despite the 6ft mound of sexual tension that Mando had brought inside the shop with him.

“I got lucky,” He explained. “Caught up to a runner on a whim. It was an easy fight,” You grabbed your water tankard as you made your way to your usual stool, sat opposite the hunter. “Much like the fight you just won,”

You sent him an amused smile. “He was a puppy. I probably scared him away from Nevarro for the rest of his life,”

“If it wasn’t you who’d done it, he’d probably be dead by now,” Mando added. He was right; others wouldn’t have been so lenient on a fool who ran their mouth like him.

“That’s a nice way of easing my conscience about breaking his arm like a twig,” You scoffed out, taking a drink of water.

“Does your conscience need more easing?” He questioned, and you looked at him plainly. This was a double-edged sword— if you said yes, it only proved that at times you felt uncomfortable about the way people dealt with things here. If you said no— would he think you to be harsh?

No. He kills people for money. A broken arm is nothing to him.

You shook your head sternly. “He got what was coming to him,” You replied. “No one insults me in my own establishment and leaves unscathed,”

Mando settled in his seat, leaning back against the wall. “Good girl,”

Your gut coiled immediately. Fuck— this man. This fucking man. He knew exactly what he was doing with his words, and he knew it well by the way his helmet tilted towards you once again.

You were torn between punching him in the stomach or utterly jumping his bones, but you did neither. You only squirmed in your seat, praying that his thermal sensors weren’t picking up the rising heat between your legs.

The silence was broken by something you weren’t expecting— a groan— from his stomach.

You glanced at his Beskar covered belly then back to his visor, smiling subtly. “Hungry?” You questioned.

Mando visibly tensed. “It’s fine,”

You knew he couldn’t eat freely. That would require taking his helmet off. From the way he’d warningly told you to look away while he sipped at whiskey before, you knew the helmet was a part of who he was. If you were to hazard a guess, you’d say no one alive had ever seen his face—

No one had ever trickled their eyes across his features, his eyes, his nose. Even drinking in the same room as you had taken six months of built-up trust for him to perform.

You stood gently, heading to your work desk and opening up the cupboards beneath. You laid out some basics— bread, butter, some cheese, leaving it on the desktop before you grabbed your favourite blaster.

“I’ll be out back,” You told him. He stood abruptly as you turned to leave.

“You—,” He began, halting you. “You didn’t have to,”

“Just eat, Mando,” You scoffed out. “I don’t want you going hungry in my home,” Your cheeks flushed as soon as you’d finished talking. That was personal—it implied you wanted him to be comfortable, you wanted him to enjoy his time with you.

You nodded at him once, making your way outside to the courtyard and shutting the door behind you. You chose to shoot away your embarrassment; how many times did you have to check yourself? How many times did you have to think back on your words and realise you’d said something stupid?

You shot three times, only hitting one target dead centre. You cursed at yourself, repositioning your feet and forcing yourself to breath slower.

Would he leave if he knew you were starting to care for him?

You shot once, missing the target entirely. Fuck. Come on.

Would his guards go back up if he realised that you enjoyed his visits more than he’d ever fully know?

Twice more— you skimmed the edge of the target on both.

“Fucks sake,” You muttered, only getting more flustered as you failed with each blast, instead of getting rid of the frustration within you.

You breathed out slowly, allowing your body to fall into a stance naturally. If you overthought your shooting, you always failed. If you felt it—felt the trigger and the barrel and visualised the blast, you always got it spot on.

But, evidently, you were distracted.

You aimed at the target, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth, but your arm had started to shake subtly—

You felt him behind you before you could turn around. He positioned himself parallel to you, shoving his chest into your back and bringing his hand up to steady your shooting arm. He gripped his fingers around your forearm, twisting you slightly until he was happy with the way the shot lined up.

Your eyes widened when you felt his other hand come to sit snuggly upon your waist. His hand was large enough to squeeze you tightly, balancing you as you realised you’d been tilted to the left the whole time.

His helmet shone in your peripheral, coming to hover over your right shoulder and tilted toward your face. You didn’t waver—you kept your eyes forward and focused on the target before you, despite the fucking urge to look at him—

Stars, it was a strong urge.

“You know how to do this already,” Mando spoke coarsely. God, his voice sounded like butter. It wasn’t helping. “What’s got you this shaken?”

Bastard.

He knew it was because of him. And he was relishing in that fact. Without a second thought, you pulled the trigger—and it missed. Again. You were ready to explode, but instead, you gasped.

Mando moved his hand from your waist to wrap completely around your stomach. You could feel the strength in his muscles, in the way he was hugging you from behind. Your legs started to waver next, as if they’d completely forgot how the fuck to stand up.

“Try again,” He prompted, his voice deepening with arousal. He was enjoying himself. He was enjoying you like this, like a toy, like a game. You imagined his eyes trickling down you from this angle, feeling your pulse quicken as his grip on you didn’t falter. He could definitely feel the shake from your legs; they were positioned just below his groin.

You forced yourself to ignore these feelings, tensing all of your muscles to somewhat numb yourself from his touch, before you fired again.

It missed—unsurprisingly.

His arm immediately moved once more, snaking its way beneath the soft fabric of your shirt until you felt cold Beskar upon the bare skin of your tummy. Oh, fuck—stars. The breath hitched in your throat before you could stop it, as a moan trickled from your mouth involuntarily.

It only riled him up more, as he slammed his body closer to your back. You heard the unmistakable sound of his strained modulated breathing, feeling nothing but his body pushed up behind your own, his hand tightening its grip on your bare stomach and digging into your flesh slightly.

“Try. Again,” He spoke roughly, like it pained him to talk.

You gulped down the need to yell. You wanted to tell him he wasn’t helping. You wanted to tell him to wind his hand further up your shirt, but instead, you were hit with the want to frustrate him even more.

You kept your gaze plastered on the target, but you allowed yourself to don the smallest of smirks. “What happens if I miss again?” You whispered out.

Mando wasted no time with giving you a physical demonstration. He pushed himself further into you, shoving his arm further up your shirt until his palm laid in the space between your breasts. You shivered at the sensation of cold metal upon your soft, supple, skin—skin that was rarely touched by anyone else by yourself.

You couldn’t stop yourself from squirming, slamming your free arm back until you were gripped onto the undershirt beneath his Beskar. You already knew your knuckles were white from the sheer force your fingers had clasped onto him with—Stars, how you’d love to tug off his armour this way.

It was his turn to growl then, as his arm only tensed over your skin. His shooting arm was still and steady as ever, next to the wobbles of your own—you were jelly. And there was nothing you could fucking do about it.

“Hit the target and I’ll stop,” He offered. Your brain flooded with an idea, something to make him realise how fucking bad you wanted this. Abruptly, you swiped your arm upwards to the sky, firing the blaster without any hesitation. It soared up into the air before it disappeared into the approaching dusk of the Nevarro sun.

It was an obvious message; don’t fucking stop.

Before you had the chance to process anything, his shooting arm moved at light speed to grip your inner thigh. You squirmed uncontrollably, immediately trying to shove your legs together, but Mando’s knees intercepted you. He made it impossible to move your legs, boxing you into this stance like a doll.

He was covering you on all sides; your back, your front, your sides. You were effectively trapped in this man’s grasp, doomed to suffer a game of hit the target while your body fought against your attempts at any form of concentration.

“I—,” You began, stuttering through your words and fucking forgetting how to speak, as his fingers started to crawl further up the crevice between your thighs. “Don’t want you to stop,” You forced out, causing a moan to burst from Mando’s lips.

You had to release your grasp on his shirt from fear that your fingers were about to fall off, but that didn’t stop you from moving your hand closer to his waistband. As you struggled to reach around, your hand grazed over his bulge—

Without warning, Mando peeled himself off of you, letting out the most ragged groan that you’d ever heard him produce. He stumbled backwards as his arms swiped away from your skin, until you heard the slam of Beskar against the wall behind you. You swivelled round immediately, still shaking from the fucking pleasure you felt, but you were more concerned about his sudden collapse.

“Mando?” You questioned, rushing forward towards him as he slumped against the wall, but he stuck out a hand, halting you before you could properly approach him.

“Fine,” He breathed out. You saw the strenuous way his chest was inhaling and exhaling, hearing the utter strain of his breaths from beneath his helmet. You let him stay like that for a few minutes, allowing him to catch his breath as you also tried to regain your full composure. Stars—you could feel the warmth of yourself between your legs. You’d bet that you were dripping, and it wouldn’t have surprised you in the slightest.  

Your limbs were still overcome with that jelloid sensation, refusing to move in ways that you were used to and instead forcing you to adopt a sort of groaned hobble. When Mando finally looked up at you, red faced, sweating, breathing calmer and still clutching the blaster by your side, he let out an amused scoff.

“You were right,” He finally spoke. “It’s overwhelming,” He groaned when he got himself up from the wall, straightening himself as his desires slowly faded away. You were coming back to yourself too, feeling the utter amusement of the entire situation.

How long would it take two touch-starved loners to actually have sex, without one of them collapsing before it?

You finally walked over to him, tentatively reaching out to grab his forearm. He let you drag him back to your former position, but without the burning sensation of the sexual tension from before. You gently placed his hand onto your waist, bringing his other to the forearm of your shooting arm.

It was the same position as before, the same stance, the same proximity—

Without hesitation, you fired the blaster, hitting the target dead centre. You relished in the achievement, despite knowing you’d had the ability to do it all along. You took comfort in the fact Mando hadn’t removed himself from you just yet, that he was settling into the nooks of your body, your waist, your lower back, feeling comfortable enough himself to stay placed next to you.

It was a sorely missed sensation, just being close to another human being. You could feel Mando realising this same exact feeling; feeling himself getting used to this level of intimacy once more, with it not necessarily being just sexual, despite both of you having those very strong urges.

“I wonder what had you so shaken before?” He cooed in your ear. You rolled your eyes instinctively, turning around to look at him face on. It prompted him to move both hands to sit on your waist—a new feeling, but one that you both seemed to like.

“Shut the fuck up,” You let out, smiling all the while.

“That’s rude,” He hit back with. You could practically hear his smile beneath the helmet.

“Don’t ask such idiotic questions, then,” You gave him a single smack on chest, not expecting the Beskar to fucking hurt that much. You immediately doubled over, clutching your wrist, before you started jumping on the spot at the tingling pain your hand was throbbing with.

Mando was amused. The prick.

“I tapped you, what the hell is Beskar’s problem?” You stuttered out, waving your hand about and flexing your fingers to avoid numbness.

“It doesn’t like you,” Was all he said, before grabbing your arm and dragging you back inside the shop. He shut the door while you jumped up onto your desktop like normal, dropping your legs over the side, still holding your hand.

“Well, I don’t like it,” You retorted. You looked up at his visor, shooting him a smirk. “I’d much rather you weren’t wearing it,” You let out in a whisper, somehow hoping he wouldn’t entirely hear it, but of course he did.

Mando let out a modulated sigh, heading to sit on his usual seat in the shop. You tried not to giggle at his exasperation, but it was simply comedy gold. This stoic man, reduced to absolute pieces by the subtle graze of your fingers over his, very hard, cock.

“We have time,” He replied, before a tense silence flooded through the shop floor once more. You were exhausted after such a hard week, it was true, and this encounter had only sapped up your last remaining energy. You expected Mando felt equally as tired, slumping himself in the chair and continuing through the aftermath of earlier.

“We have time,” You repeated, feeling a welcoming sweetness to replace the ferocious fire in your gut from before. It was fluttering and warm; it made you feel giddy, instead of ravenous. Mando’s helmet tilted to you on the desk, and you smiled at him smally in recognition.

“I should go,” He let out, almost sadly. “I’m need to meet with Karga,”

You tried not to think about how elated you felt at that fact he’d come to see you before meeting with Karga. He’d landed on Nevarro, fresh from his bounties and ready for more work, and he’d come to you before all of that. Stars, it felt good.

“He’s bad news,” You said suddenly, copying his words from the week before. Mando only sighed once more, before forcing himself to stand and sling his satchel over his shoulder.

“I’d watch that smart mouth if I were you,” He threatened, but you only smirked at his response.

“Oh yeah?” You began. “What are you gonna do about it?” You let out playfully, not thinking anything serious about your choice of words.

Suddenly, Mando stormed towards you, getting in close—he shoved his body between your legs as you sat atop the desk, hands gripping the backs of your knees to keep them secure around his sides. You were taken aback, looking up at him like a fucking rabbit in headlights, while one of his hands came to rest on your chin.

His thumb swiped back and forth over your bottom lip gently, all while you stayed absolutely still. Frozen, pulsing, a bit terrified, but mostly turned the fuck on.

“I like your smart mouth,” He growled out. “But not when I have to leave,”

Stars, what the fuck. You were melting immediately once more, all too aware of the way his hips were pressing into you—you could feel him, you could feel the throb.

You had no control over the way your cheeks fucking blushed. If you got any redder, you would have looked to be dowsed in fresh blood. You ignored the hammering of your heart, the heat radiating from your very body, while you tentatively raised a hand to his helmet.

You placed your hand on the cold, hard metal of the mask he never took off, somehow still being surprised about the feeling of the surface—hard, cold, smooth, perfect. As far as you were concerned, this was Mando’s face, this was what he looked like always.

As much as you wanted to delve beneath the armour, you were also a realist. You didn’t expect to ever see his face, as much as you ached to. You didn’t expect to ever kiss his lips, as much as you craved to. You didn’t expect the Mandalorian to unwind fully with anyone, let alone you—

But beneath all of that, was hope.

“Stay then,” You said it before you could analyse the words in your brain. Mando didn’t remove himself from you, but you felt him tense up. “After Karga, stay here tonight,” You repeated.

You fully expected Mando to retract his grip from you, to leave without a word, but instead he got closer to you. He pulled your legs around his waist, leaning himself down to lean his arms on your work desk, until his helmet was all you saw. You wondered, if you squinted, would you see his eyes beneath?

“I can’t,” Mando said finally, before you felt him pulling away. You took your chance, though, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and bringing your lips to his helmet. You kissed him where you expected his cheek to be, navigating the indents and curves in the Besker, before pulling back and sending him a saddened look.

“Be safe, then,” You gave up, allowing him to leave the safety of your legs, wrapped around his hips snuggly. He looked incredibly reluctant to leave, but nevertheless, he grabbed his satchel, slinging it over his shoulder like you’d seen him do a thousand times—

And he left.

You sat in silence for a while, while the darkness set in outside. You turned no lights on, opting to roam around your shop in almost pitch-black, just for the fucking hell of it. Stars—you’d been fucking blue-balled, and so had he. Both times, you’d got close to getting there, but something always faltered before either of you had the chance.

Not that you thought that was a problem. If anything, it spurred you forward, increasing your fantasies surrounding the inevitable unwinding that you’d give him, or more excitedly, he’d give you. You’d be lying if you didn’t think about it all the fucking time—the prospect of Mando making you cum had plagued you for the better part of three months, but now that this had happened, you were getting incredibly impatient.

As much as you wanted to go full throttle, neither of you could fucking take that right now. Not after so long without being touched, not after reacquainting yourselves with the feeling of sexual intimacy; and, possibly, romance.

You were a hard-skinned woman. Making and repairing literal killing machines was your job. You’d hurt, maimed, injured too many people to remember the exact amount, and you knew Mando’s numbers most definitely topped yours. Yet this feeling went beyond the want to be railed by this man—

Maybe, just maybe, you wanted to care for him, too. You wanted to know his past, you wanted to know about Mandalore, you wanted to know what the Beskar and the helmet meant to him— Stars, you wanted to know his favourite colour.

You wanted him to stay. Even if he couldn’t fathom sleeping in your bed, even if the Beskar stayed on completely. You spent most of your days waiting for him to return to Nevarro and, just this once, you wished you could wake up to him.

Kriffing hell. Get it together.

You were pulled from your thoughts when your foot slammed into a box of parts on the way to your bedroom. You fully deserved it, walking around in a pitch-black workshop like it was easy as pie. You grappled at air to find the doorway to your bedroom, almost catapulting yourself into your drawers, until you finally stumbled across your bed.

You got in, not bothering to strip, or wash your face, or brush your teeth—

You got in and hugged your damn pillow. All the while, listening for the familiar sound of your door being lockpicked, hoping that maybe it would be the Mandalorian.

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Six: Be My Baby

a/n: welcome back lovelies! Thank you once again for all of your kindness and support for chapter five!! I am so glad you enjoyed it :’) As promised: some more Halani sweetness that is truly good for the soul. Can’t wait for you to see what’s in store for our favorite lovebirds <3 I have had so much fun chatting with some of you and hearing your thoughts, so keep ‘em coming! Happy reading :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, sickeningly sweet PDA <3

Word Count: 4.7k 

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, and five 

The rain descends in full force, strong and unrelenting, but Harry and Alani are too wrapped up in their own little world inside the Bronco to notice. They sit facing each other with palms touching, comparing hand sizes while they ramble about everything and nothing at all. Harry still has to remind himself to blink every so often despite the irrational fear that Alani will disappear when his eyes open again. With the knowledge that every moment could be this perfect, she silently curses herself for not crossing the friendship barrier sooner. 

“Think you bit me a little bit,” Harry comments, scanning his lower lip for any signs of bruising. 

“Did not,” Alani defends with a light giggle. 

He pouts his lower lip in her direction and leans closer for her to observe. “Did too, look!”

“Fine. I guess I won’t kiss you anymore if I’m such a detriment to your health,”

Harry sneaks his fingers inside Alani’s sweatshirt and tickles her sides, relishing in the laughter that erupts. 

“Just teasing,” he offers. “But I think I’m ready to get hurt again. Do me the honor?”

“You are such a nuisance,” she grins, obliging his request for another kiss by slotting her lips between his. It’s sweet and chaste, but it leaves her mouth tingling long after they’ve pulled apart. Alani runs her hands through Harry’s messy hair and he hums in response, leaning into her touch. When her hand stills, he plants a soft peck to the inside of her wrist as a plea to continue. She combs through the chestnut curls while he occupies his attention with something in the cupholder between them. 

“What’s this?” Harry questions, lifting the smoothie she had prepared for him earlier. 

Alani glances down and chuckles to herself. “Oh, it’s for you. I knew you’d be suffering from a gnarly hangover,”

Harry’s head tilts and he grins, giving Alani a sighting of her favorite dimple. “So good to me. Don’t know what I do to deserve it,”

“Maybe hold off on the gratitude, I think it’s probably rancid now,”

He takes a polite sip and sure enough, the drink is lukewarm and barely edible. His nose instinctively scrunches with disgust, but he quickly musters an appreciative smile. 

“S’lovely,”

“Liar,”

“Wanna taste?” Harry challenges, leaning in with puckered lips that Alani playfully dodges. He plants a kiss to her cheek instead, trailing down her jaw and to the side of her neck in a way that sends shivers down her spine. Her hands weave into his hair and she searches for his mouth again, but before she does, her phone rings loudly on the dashboard in front of them. 

He grumbles and his head lands on her shoulder. “For fuck’s sake—”

“Sorry,” Alani apologizes, swiping the device to look at the caller ID. Her sister’s name and photo flash on the screen, so she decides to answer it. “Hello?”

Harry traces small circles on the tops of Alani’s thighs, his mind still lost in the heat of the moment while she listens to Pua’s panicked voice on the other end. 

“Where are you?” Alani questions, sitting up straighter in her seat. “Okay, I’ll be there in ten,”

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks, brow furrowed in concern. 

She collects her bearings and sighs. “Pua and her little friends got stranded at the mall because of the storm. Need me to go rescue them,”

“Can I come with?” he offers eagerly, not ready to part just yet. 

“I don’t know if you really wanna be stuck with a bunch of fifteen year old-girls,” Alani laughs bitterly. 

Harry shrugs and toys with the hem of her sweatshirt. “Dunno if you were aware, but fifteen year-old girls love me,”

He stops suddenly and registers the concerning undertones in his statement. “That came out wrong,”

“Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t say that out loud,” Alani giggles with a hand cupped to his cheek. “Let’s meet up afterwards, okay?”

“‘Kay,” Harry agrees, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Alani leans over and presses a light kiss to his parted mouth, indulging his request to deepen it by letting him glide his tongue over her lower lip. 

“I really have to go.” she warns before pulling away reluctantly. 

Harry groans, but he steals one last kiss and slips out of the car into the heavy rain. 

“Be careful!” he calls over his shoulder. 

 Alani waits until he’s secure inside his own vehicle before driving away down the road. 

********

“You’re soaking wet,”

“It’s raining,”

“And you’re blushing,”

Harry shakes his damp hair out as he strolls down the hallway towards his room, Mitch at his heels. 

“So?”

“I’m assuming you fixed things with Alani, then?” his friend probes. 

Harry stomach flutters at the mention of her name. “Yeah,”

Mitch rests his shoulder against the doorframe of the singer’s room and watches as he sifts through his closet and dresser. 

“So why aren’t you with her right now?”

“She had to go pick up her sister, we’re meeting up later,”

“Is it official, then? I mean are you two...” 

Harry rubs a hand along the back of his neck and offers a shy smile in response. “I guess so,” 

“Well I’ll be damned!” his friend cheers, clapping him on the shoulder. “We have to celebrate. Jeff owes me twenty bucks,” 

“Mate—”

Mitch snickers with hands raised. “Kidding! Well, sorta. I actually said that she would turn you down at first,” 

Harry rolls his eyes and continues his search for the right shirt. “Ha ha. Listen, I need a favor,” 

“Anything.” 

“Jeff said that there’s a projector and fairy lights in the shed. I’m gonna need you to dig them out.” 

********

Alani parks in front of the mall and shoots her sister a text. Within a few minutes, Pua and her three friends bolt out of the entrance and climb into her backseat. 

“Buckle up,” she instructs the girls before pulling away from the curb. 

“Thank you,” Pua exhales, sinking into the seat. 

Alani gives her a reassuring wink and glances up to the rearview mirror to see her sister’s friends chatting giddily in the back. Her mind briefly wanders to less than an hour prior and the lingering warmth of Harry’s touch before her sister chirps up next to her. 

“What happened to your neck?” she asks with her nose scrunched. 

Alani’s brow creases in momentary confusion before her entire body heats up in realization. “Oh—uh, nothing,”

“Is that a—?”

“What do you guys wanna listen to?” Alani asks the backseat, avoiding her sister’s questions. 

“Wait, were you with—?”

One of the girls speaks up and Alani passes the aux cord over her head. Pua narrows her eyes and a smug grin spreads across her lips. 

“You were!” she accuses, hushed so her friends don’t hear. 

Alani shoots her younger sister a stern look and mouths the word “don’t,” but it’s no use. Her attention is stolen when the upbeat drums of a vaguely familiar pop song fills the entire car. 

“Oh you’re gonna love this one,” Pua laughs, bobbing her head along to the music that plays. 

Alani feels a strange sense of familiarity in the singer’s voice, but she’s having trouble placing it. She looks over to her sister for an explanation, but Pua simply wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. 

“It’s your boyfriend,” she smirks.

Yeah, so tell me girl if every time we 

Touch you get this kind of rush 

Baby say “yeah, yeah, yeah,” yeah, yeah, yeah

If you don’t wanna take it slow 

And you just wanna take me home

Baby say “yeah, yeah, yeah,” yeah, yeah, yeah

And let me kiss you

Mortification settles into the pit of Alani’s stomach, but a hint of amusement sneaks in as she pictures the various ways that she can tease Harry about this later. 

“Oh my God, could you imagine kissing them?” one of the girls, a redhead with freckles, muses in the back. 

“I think if I kissed Harry Styles, I could die happy.” sighs another one with round glasses. 

The third girl, a slender face with a full afro, chimes in with a dreamy look in her eyes. “Do you guys think he’s a good kisser?”

“Good question,” Pua plays along, turning to her older sister. “What do you think?”

Alani’s jaw tenses and she suddenly feels flustered under the pressure. Glimpses of spearmint and vanilla flood her memory, but she suppresses them and clears her throat. “How should I know?” 

Luckily, the three teenagers have already moved on from the subject and chat amongst themselves about other relevant topics.  

After the last girl has been dropped off at her house, Alani turns to her sister with a glaring look. 

“Before you ask—”

“Are you guys dating now?” Pua interrupts excitedly. 

Alani lets out an exasperated sigh and clutches the steering wheel to ground herself. “No. Well…I don’t know,”

“How was it?” her sister poses gently, a starry look in her eye. “Was he a good kisser?”

There’s a glimmer of eagerness in Pua’s expression that makes it hard for Alani to remain serious. A bashful smile spreads across her lips as she remembers the dreamy boy awaiting her return. 

“Yeah,” Alani confesses. “He was,”

“Oh my god!” her sister shrieks, enveloping her in a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you! This is perfect,”

Alani lets herself be excited for the first time since her feelings had been set free. Everything was still fresh and exhilarating, and while she couldn’t wrap her head around all of it, she was grateful for her sister’s enthusiasm. 

“It’s new,” Alani explains, sorting through the last couple of hours. “So there’s really not much to tell,”

“But you like him?” Pua clarifies. 

“Yes,”

“And he likes you?”

Alani shrugs coyly, thinking of the way that Harry had practically melted in her touch. “I think so.”

“Then what else matters?”

Pua’s words comfort the anxious turning in Alani’s stomach. If Harry feels even a sliver of the affection she has for him, then nothing else could truly ever matter in her world. 

********

Harry’s towel hangs low on his hips as he steps out of the shower. Immediately, he reaches for his phone to see if there are any new messages from Alani, but he deflates when her name isn’t on the screen. He checks the time and registers that three hours have passed since they had last seen each other, though it feels like days in his mind. Quickly, he dries off and steps into a pair of black jeans and a silky red overshirt, adjusting the silver chain with a cross pendant around his neck before slipping a few rings onto his fingers to complete the look. His hair is still damp, so he runs a blowdryer over it and adds a small amount of product—still getting used to the shorter style. Harry spritzes a bit of vanilla scented cologne onto the sides of his neck and takes a deep breath to quell the pounding in his chest. He checks his phone again, but there’s still no news from Alani, so he decides to reach out first. 

Harry: We still on for tonight?

He can hear ruckus emanating from the kitchen, undoubtedly the sound of his friends cooking dinner with a few drinks in their systems. His stomach rumbles when he realizes that all he’s had to eat was a sip of Alani’s warm smoothie. 

Alani: Yes, sorry! Had to cook for my sister but I’m free now :) 

He hums, his dinner plans most likely foiled. 

Harry: I take it you’re not really hungry then?

Alani: I could eat…

Harry grins and grabs the keys from his nightstand.

Harry: Be there in fifteen xx

Fifteen minutes—that’s all Alani has to fix herself up and look somewhat presentable for Harry. She darts around her room and picks out a flowy, black mini skirt with embroidered cherries and its matching cropped tank. Her hair is still a bit messy from not combing it after her bath, so she smoothes it out with some water and curl cream, hoping for the best. She finishes her look with a swipe of red tinted lip gloss across her full lips and honey scented lotion over her skin. By the time her quick routine is complete, she still has four minutes to spare and spends them pacing her room back and forth with deep breaths. Her phone dings two minutes later and she smiles at Harry’s punctuality. 

Harry: Am I allowed to meet you at your front door?

Alani’s heart melts at his consideration, so she quickly makes her way downstairs and decides to respond to him in person. Sure enough, he’s already waiting at the door with eyes wide as if he’d just been caught doing something that he wasn’t supposed to. 

“Wow,” Harry marvels, taking in her appearance. 

“You don’t look too bad, yourself.” Alani compliments, closing the door behind her and with a step forward. 

He clears his throat and offers his hand out to her, palm facing up. “Shall we?”

She accepts it happily and allows his fingers to slip between hers. They walk down the short path to the pink Cadillac waiting for them, glistening under the last bit of sunset. Harry opens her door first, then makes his way to the driver’s side before peeling out of the driveway. As they head to their mysterious dinner location, Harry’s hand wanders from the gear shift to Alani’s palm resting on her thigh. She interlocks their fingers and runs the pad of her thumb over the silver rose around his index finger, wondering all the while about its origin. 

“Hey, what’s with the ring?” she decides to ask, lifting their joint hands to support her question. 

“It was a gift from my mum,” Harry explains. “When I first went away on tour, she was bummed that she couldn’t be at every show to throw a rose on stage. So she gave it to me as a reminder that she’d always be cheering me on, no matter how far apart we were,”

Alani’s chest stirs at the sweet gesture, wishing suddenly that she had a face to put to the lovely woman in her mind. 

“I really like that,” she comments, studying the petals and intricate details. 

Harry glances over at the girl sitting in his passenger seat and thinks that he’d very much like for his mom to meet her someday, though under the right circumstances. He lifts their joined hands up to his lips and presses a soft kiss to her knuckles. 

********

As they pull into the studio, Alani immediately takes note of a giant white tarp hanging from the roof on one side of the building. 

“What’s that for?” she asks curiously, stepping out of the car. 

Harry offers his hand and motions for her to follow him inside. “It’s for the movie,”

“We’re watching a movie?”

“Yeah,” he smiles sheepishly. “Hope that’s okay,”

“It’s perfect,” Alani reassures him with a squeeze of his forearm. 

“I had the food delivered, too. Figured we could eat while we watch,”

When Harry unlocks the door, the unmistakable scent of Alani’s favorite Italian restaurant lingers around the room. She gasps at the sight of two take-out bags from Angelo's perched on the coffee table.

“How did you…?” she trails off with her mouth hanging agape. “That’s my favorite place,”

“Ravioli with extra sauce,” Harry smirks victoriously, taking both bags and retreating back to the door. He sends a telepathic “thank you” message to Pua for the suggestion. 

“Who told you?”

“A good journalist never reveals his source, you should know that,”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware that we were switching professions,” Alani follows with her eyes narrowed warily.

“But don’t expect me to serenade you or anything,”

Harry chuckles and places their meals in the back seat before opening Alani’s door for her. “Not even a little tune?”

“Maybe the alphabet song if you’re lucky,”

“I’ll take it,”

“Actually,” she snaps, settling into the passenger seat as she recalls one of his songs that Pua’s friends had introduced her to. “Maybe I do have a little something for you,”

Harry’s brows shoot up eagerly. “Well let’s hear it,”

Alani clears her throat and tries to wipe the mischievous grin from her lips, but the enthusiasm behind her date’s eyes makes it difficult to execute the joke. 

“Close your eyes, please,” 

“Why?” Harry laughs softly, a mixture of tenderness and amusement settling on his features. 

“I can’t do it with you looking at me,” Alani whines. “Just close ‘em!”

“Okay, okay, they’re closed,”

“No peeking,”

“Yeah, yeah,”

Alani takes a deep breath and tries to remember the tune that had been stuck in her head all afternoon.

“So tell me girl if every time we tou-ou-ouch, you get this kind of ru-u-ush,”

Harry’s eyes fly open and she can hardly contain her laughter, but she continues despite his interjections. 

“What’re you—?”

“If you don’t wanna take it slow and you just wanna take me home—”

“Is that—?”

“Baby say ‘yeah, yeah, yeah,’ yeah, yeah, and let me kiss you—”

“Where did you—?”

“You’re not even listening!” Alani teases through a fit of laughter. “I’m trying to dazzle you with my angelic singing, here,”

“I’m sorry,” Harry apologizes, his voice lowered as he leans in closer. “Please, continue,”

Alani drapes her arms around his neck and sighs. “That’s all I’ve got, sorry,”

“So much for ‘not a fan,’ huh?”

“It was my sister’s friends—”

“—Sure—”

“—It’s true!” Alani sustains with a playful shove. “You should’ve seen how swoony they got over you, it was kinda cute actually,”

Harry brushes a stray eyelash from her cheek and his mouth turns up softly at the edges. “I see,”

“They were wondering if you’re a good kisser, you know, because of the song and everything,”

“And…”

“And?”

“Well what’s the verdict?”

“I don’t know,” Alani ponders shyly, feigning indecisiveness. “I think I need to refresh my memory.”

Harry head shakes gently with his lower lip caught between his wide grin. He takes a minute to lightly graze the curve of her jaw with his thumb in an effort to convince himself that he isn’t, in fact, dreaming before he connects their mouths. Alani weaves one hand into the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck while the other keeps his palm anchored securely to the side of her face. She had never known a touch so warm or soft; so intoxicating, so safe. It was like an extension of her own body—a familiarity that she had unknowingly craved all along. And with a single kiss, every remaining brick in their emotional fortresses comes crumbling down, trampled under foot like sand. If the eyes were the window to the soul, then their lips were the door: inviting, welcoming, begging the other person to stay forever and evermore. 

Their foreheads meet as they reluctantly pull apart for air; the only sound is their synchronized breathing. The sun had sunken into the sea, but twinkling lights strung across a row of palm trees leaves them in a canopy of golden light. 

“So I think it’s safe to say,” Alani begins softly. “Ten out of ten would kiss again,”

Harry’s head bobs, interlocking their fingers. “I have to agree,”

The whirring of the movie projector disrupts their thoughts and turns their attention towards the screen. Alani’s eyes widen, curious to see what film Harry has chosen for the night. 

“Forgot that I put it on a timer,” he confesses. 

“Be My Baby” by The Ronettes starts over the speakers propped next to their car and Alani immediately recognizes the intro to her all-time favorite movie. 

“Dirty Dancing?” she cries, turning to him with an elated tug on his arm. “No way!”

Harry reaches for the food behind them, but keeps an eye on her to relish in the excitement. “Yes way, had to see what all the fuss was about.”

“You won’t regret it, promise.”

Alani slips her shoes off and hugs her knees to her chest, eyes falling from the screen ahead to Harry beside her. He was constantly finding new ways to exceed her expectations, and just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, he raised the bar to unimaginable heights. She wonders what life would be like if he hadn’t stumbled into the café and imagines all the other ways that their paths would have unintentionally crossed, unaware of the bliss that could exist between them. Luckily, Alani will never have to live in a world of such ignorance, a world where Harry’s name doesn’t fall from her tongue as naturally as her own. 

********

“I would have carried that watermelon for you,”

“How romantic,” 

“And I bet we could do that lift,”

“Not a chance,” Alani giggles lightly. “Don’t get any ideas,”

Harry exhales a defeated breath, running the back of his knuckles over Alani’s legs draped across his lap.

“Why not?”

“They probably practiced that for months and had Jennifer Grey rigged up to a wire or something,”

“Nah,” Harry contests. “That’s just what they want you to think so that you don’t try and upstage the actors. Happens all the time in Hollywood,”

Alani’s head turns. “Oh really? And you would know that because…?”

“Music industry, movies, it’s all the same,”

“Sure. So what did you think of the movie? It’s okay if you didn’t love it as much as The Notebook,”

Harry’s head leans against his fist as he studies Alani’s expectant eyes, deep umber and shining in the dim light overhead. They’re the same pigment as the soil after rain and full of just as much vitality. He’d never really had a favorite color, but he suddenly wanted to own every item in exactly the same shade of brown. 

“No, you were right,” he yields. “It’s way better,”

Alani curls into Harry’s side and her cheek rests against his shoulder. “Knew you’d like it,”

“You know me well,”

“I have a question for you,” she poses lightly. 

Harry presses a kiss to her hairline before his chin settles on the crown of her head. “Shoot,”

“How did you do all of this on such short notice?”

The task hadn’t been easy; it involved multiple bribes to each of his friends, though they would have done it for free, and a top secret phone call with Pua. The projector in the studio’s shed that exclusively played DVDs nearly threw a wrench in his entire plan, but Jeff volunteered to search every store on the island for a copy of Dirty Dancing until he emerged from the fourth shop triumphantly. Harry had even hunted down the Angelo from Alani’s favorite restaurant and convinced him to make her raviolis from scratch. He wanted everything to be perfect down to the most minute detail; after all, the girl that he had planned it all for would be. 

“With a little help from my friends,” he hums in the key of The Beatles. 

“Well,” Alani sighs with a feathery kiss to his cheek. “Best first date in the history of first dates,”

“Couldn’t agree more,”

“What was your worst first date?” she pries with a curious wiggle of her brows. 

Harry lifts his head to the glittery night sky above and thinks for a moment before an unpleasant memory resurfaces and makes his nose scrunch. 

“Year ten. There was this girl I really fancied and I practically begged her all term to go out with me,” he laughs lightly. “So she agreed on the very last day of school. A friend of hers was having this party that night and she invited me to tag along. I was so nervous, but you know, things were alright. Well, she disappeared randomly in the middle of the party to go get a drink or something, and when I went to look for her, I caught her making out with some other guy,”

Alani frowns. “I’m so sorry, that’s awful,”

“It’s alright,” Harry chuckles, unaffected. “Wasn’t meant to be. What about you?”

“Probably my freshman year of college,” Alani contemplates. “I was supposed to meet up with this guy that a friend had set me up with. But he was, like, an hour late to the restaurant and didn’t even seem to notice. Then we saw some boring action movie with exploding cars and he was texting on his phone the whole time. I left the theater to ‘go to the bathroom’ and never went back,”

Harry smirks. “Good for you! Sounds like a prick,”

“I honestly don’t know how he didn’t see it coming, I took the bag of popcorn with me,”

“Well it all worked out in my favor, so maybe I should say cheers to the poor sucker,”

Alani raises her bottle of cherry coke to the night sky. “Cheers to terrible first dates!”

“Maybe don’t say that so loud,” Harry suggests with a small laugh. “People might get the wrong idea,”

“Cheers to terrible first dates and this most excellent one!” she corrects. 

“Cheers!”

“I feel like there should be some big musical number and end credits now,”

Harry glances over with a peculiar look in the corner of his eye. “I have an idea,”

“What is it?” Alani questions skeptically. 

“Two words: the lift,”

“No!”

“Come on! Please?”

“You’re gonna hurt yourself. Or me,”

“I won’t,” Harry promises with puppy dog eyes. “Pretty please?”

Alani mulls it over, unable to ignore the kiss that he peppers to her shoulder. “Fine.”

********

“Just bend your needs and jump. I’ll catch you!”

Alani’s toes dig into the sand and her fists clench. Eight feet away at the opposite end of the beach, Harry stands with his arms open and back tall. 

“I’m scared,”

“Don’t be, I’ve got you,”

She takes a deep breath through her nose and exhales out her mouth. Her feet pick up into a jog, then a sprint, and her arms fly out on Harry’s command. Alani leaps and her hands find his shoulders, but she doesn’t get enough air for him to execute the lift. His arms brace her backside as her legs tangle around his waist, but he maintains his balance.  

“See! Gotcha,”

“Did I do it?”

“No,” Harry laughs, highly amused. “But almost! Try again,”

“Harry, I don’t think this is gonna work,”

“Yes it will, love, I believe in you,”

He kisses her nose and sets her back down, running an additional eight feet back. Alani huffs, but she jogs lightly again and springs into the air. Her abdominal muscles tighten in an attempt to strengthen her balance, but she wobbles and clings to Harry with a shriek. He stumbles a few inches and lets out a belly laugh. 

“See, that was better!”

“It was not!”

“At least your legs made it in the air that time,”

“Okay,” Alani pants lightly. “You had your fun,”

“One more try,”

“Harry—”

“Just one!” he pleads. “This is gonna be the one, I can feel it,”

Alani’s eyes pinch shut, but she remembers all of the hard work and sweet gestures that Harry had poured into this date. So much thought had been given to every miniscule detail in the hopes of making it a night that she would never forget. The least she could do was humor him. 

“Okay. Let’s go,” 

“You’ve got it!” 

Her heart pounds with determination as Harry beckons her to join him at the other end. She counts down under her breath before taking off at full speed, feeling the exertion of every muscle in her body. Alani plants her feet directly under her knees and hips, shooting straight up with her arms rooted firmly on Harry’s shoulders. Her heels lift higher and higher off the ground as if they were attached to a string and anchored to the moon. In her mind, she is as graceful as Baby Houseman herself, but the reality is far less picturesque. Harry’s hand slips and he staggers backward; his arms instinctively tighten around Alani’s waist and he brings her body flush with his to break her fall. A grunt escapes his lips as his back meets the sand with a thud, but he manages to crack a smile through his pained expression. 

“Oh my God!” Alani cries, immediately sitting up. “Are you okay?” 

Harry releases a slow, shaky breath. “‘M fine,” 

“Are you hurt?”

“Just a bruised ego,” 

She brushes the curls out of his face and holds back a giggle to no avail. “I’m sorry, it’s not funny,”

“Actually,” Harry coughs, slowly regaining his composure. “It kind of is,”

“We really almost had it that time.”

“S’not as easy as it looks.”

Alani’s head meets the sand parallel to Harry’s and her hand settles on his chest. She watches the rise and fall of his breathing for a moment before her eyes trail up to his. As if the entire night hadn’t already convinced her, this very moment dispels any lingering, microscopic doubt that choosing Harry had been the right decision. It was hard to believe that less than twenty-four hours ago, Alani had no idea how he felt about her or where they stood. But now, under the full moon and shining stars, Harry looks at her as if she is the only view worth admiring and it tells her more than any word ever could.

[soldierswar]

Kobik - Chapter IX

Bucky x Reader

Fluff, some angst

Chapter Plot: Kobik meets the people that can help her. But that means you have to face what's to come in the near future.

Masterlist

Kobik could not have looked any more adorable. She was dressed in a little sailor’s outfit with bows at the base of her pigtails.

She was sitting on the floor of the observation room playing Jenga by herself with an impossibly tall stack of blocks trying to grab the most difficult ones without knocking the tower over using nothing but her telepathic powers. Sometimes she would do great, and other times it would come tumbling down before she’d frustratedly put it back together within half a second. Sometimes she’d catch it before the blocks could hit the floor, and you could tell that alone was a little triumph of her own.

You and Bucky amusedly watched her from behind the one-sided glass.

You had convinced SWORD and the scientists to give Kobik a week to recover and unwind before having to adjust to a new life again. By ‘you’ you meant Bucky did the convincing. He charismatically reasoned to the director of this whole case that Kobik was tired, severely anxious, and needed to decompress in order to avoid another episode.

To be fair, he wasn’t bullshitting them at all…For the most part. But if it were up to you to do the convincing instead of your 'too handsome for his own good' husband who you were pretty sure that the director had a crush on…it wouldn’t have happened.

Bottom line, you got to spent a wonderful week with Kobik.

You went to the movies, went on picnics, and sometimes indulged on ice cream in the middle of the night watching Disney movies that Bucky had previously refused to get caught up on since you got married.

As of then, it was one of the happiest weeks of your life. Kobik had come with the two of you for your first ultrasound. And much to your and Bucky’s surprise, Kobik was 100% right. You were in fact 3 months along, and they were pretty sure that it was a girl.

“I told you so,” she shrugged nonchalantly when they gave you that news.

Bucky side-eyed you giving you a look that said, ‘How the hell did you now know about this?’  And as scared as he looked, you could also tell that he was already kind of in love with your child. Just as you were.

Kobik didn’t know that you were watching her from behind the glass exhibiting the room where she would be meeting who would essentially be her new family.

There were so many times during the past week that you wanted to crawl on your knees and beg Bucky to keep her. And low key, you could tell that Bucky wanted to give in. But ironically, the only reason why you didn’t let that happen was because of the love that you had for her. So you and Bucky decided to look at it as an open adoption.

Unfortunately, it didn’t make you feel much better most of the time.

Kobik’s head whipped around when she heard the door open. When she saw who it was, she looked a little bit shy.

“Hi there,” said the woman giving her a smile.

She had a soft, and warm voice. Her husband had his hand placed a loving hand on her back; much like how Bucky was with you when you were nervous.

“Hi,” she replied wide-eyed.

“I’m Kobik.”

They both chuckled lightly before crouching down to sit on the floor in front of her.

Bucky gave you the rundown on who this couple was. As mentioned before, they were excellent scientists specializing in the kind of matter that Kobik was made out of. Cosmic energy.

They looked to be in their early to mid-forties. The man whose name was Adrian was tall, slim, and had a mixture of thick dark brown and silver hair. The woman whose name was Hazel also seemed really lovely. She looked to be maybe a couple of years younger than Adrian. Like her husband she was also slim with long brown hair with soft facial features and looked to be about as tall as you.

“Do you want to see what I can do?” Kobik asked timidly.

Hazel smiled.

“Absolutely.”

Kobik furrowed her brows in deep thought about what kind of party trick she wanted to do. After thinking about it she held her hands upwards and they watched as one by one the Jenga blocks floated up into the air and shifted them in mid-air to make different shapes like castles, faces, and hearts.

The couple both looked at her in amazement. When Kobik saw how they reacted to her little tricks she automatically seemed less shy and was now very proud about winning them over. She seemed to like them just as much as they seemed to like her.

You didn’t realize that Bucky was holding your hand until he started squeezing it. He was feeling the same thing that you were feeling. You knew that she was going to be okay. She would be happy and well taken care of. But he was going to miss her.

“She’s only an hour away,” you reminded him, stroking his hand with your thumb.

He nodded and gave you a melancholic smile.

“One hour.”

…

After Kobik spent about an hour and a half getting to know her new…guardians, they finally left the observation room to come meet you.

You had left the viewing area to grab lunch. Or rather…second lunch. Of course, when they came up to you, you didn’t even notice for about ten seconds because you were too busy stuffing a large burrito into your face.

“She’s hungry a lot,” Kobik pointed out.

“She blames it on the baby.”

They had a look of delight on their face when she said that, and you couldn’t help but smile proudly.

“I’m sorry, I’d shake your hand,” you said trying to hide your half mouthful of food.

“But I kind of have burrito on my hands. And sorry Bucky had to go take a phone call.”

“It’s okay,” Hazel reassured.

“We’ve met him already. We just wanted to get to know you a little bit more.”

They sat on the other side of the table, and Kobik used her powers to summon a chair from the next table over to your side to sit next to you.

“Well…What would you like to know?”

…

You and Bucky walked into your empty house already feeling like something was missing. And of course, it was that little rambunctious, stubborn, and playful little human manifested cosmic energy with the biggest heart.

You missed hearing her little giggles or hearing random things shift around because she couldn’t bother to walk over to do or get something like a normal person. This sometimes leads to flying objects hitting other objects and sometimes breaking.

You missed snuggles on the couch. You hoped that she could still get snuggles, even if it was without you. But most of all, you missed seeing Bucky act like a dad the whole time that she was there. Granted, that emptiness would soon be filled by your own little bundle.

It had been 5 days since Kobik’s first meeting with Adrien and Hazel, and most importantly since you had met them. You knew that you had to like them in order for you to be comfortable with handing Kobik over to them. You wanted to hate them, but when you saw how sweet they seemed, it was impossible.

They had given you a brief history of their personal and professional lives. They talked about their methods on what they would be studying with Kobik, how they would try to help her and expand on the research that the previous scientists in Europe were discovering.

When you asked about whether or not she would be spending most of her time in a lab, Hazel took out an iPad from her purse and showed you a tour of what her room would look like, and the place where they would be working. Their studies would all be taking place in their own home so that they could do their research in private. And by the look at the way Kobik was responding to it, you felt a lot better. They even said that you could come to visit as much as you wanted. That won you over.

But you knew that there was a high chance that Bucky may or may not ‘check in’ on her without their knowledge.

“What are we gonna do now with this empty, and quiet place?” you sighed.

Bucky dropped his jacket on the nearest chair.

“Exactly what we did before,” he replied.

“And enjoy as much sleep as we can get…I’ve heard something about babies crying all of the time.”

You playfully punched him on the arm and wrapped your arms around his torso for comfort.

“I have a surprise for you,” Bucky said.

You looked up at him curiously.

“Oh?”

He nodded.

“Well…What is it? Where is it?”

Bucky gave you that familiar mischievous smile and shrugged.

“You’re going to have to wait until tomorrow.”

“Then why tell me about it today?” you whined.

He winked.

“You know I love watching you anticipate.”

You crossed your arms like a four-year-old.

“Well if you won’t tell me, I’m making you go out and buy me ice cream right now.”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed his jacket and keys.

“Cookies and Cream it is.”

@buckylove123 @teenagedreams-bucky @typicalnerd98 @veroxloki @white-wolf-buckaroo @acciosiriusblack @pastel-boy-sungjae @flightsandfantasy @noiralei @unstablesleepygal @general-latino

[mvmmoney]

ﾟ･:*｡(ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*)~｡*:･ﾟ happy birthday to my boy!!!

i wrote a fluffy, steamy, firey birthday story to celebrate (..good times, c'mon!) come one come all levi stans — happy leviaday ♡

🔞 if under eighteen 🔞 do not interact 🔞

tw: 18+ sexy sexy time, MC dominant, vaguely femMC (they/them pronouns)

"No way!! You got me the new TSL chapters!! Those aren't supposed to be out for another week!!” Levi was grateful MC had asked him to open their present alone with each other in his room, this way they could fan over the new book in peace, free of ridicule from his other brothers. “Thank you, MC!” he beamed, grabbing MC into a hug before he even realized it. He pulled away a bit stiff, “I, uh, really really like it,” Levi tapped the book to his head, then held it to this chest, unsure of what to do with the arms he was suddenly very aware he had. MC knelt to the floor and invited him to kneel with them, eyes not meeting his which he found curious, “Sit down with me, Levi, let’s read the first few pages together.” MC was in a dress that highlighted their figure, Levi tried his best not to notice, but the silhouette of them was very, very distracting. He cleared his throat as he opened the book to the first page, making sure his voice was steady as he began to read.

“And that’s the first chapter! What do you think, MC?....MC?” There was a long pause, he looked up to MC only to notice they weren’t looking at him, but focusing intently on the ground. Then, as if they could read his mind, MC looked up at Levi, sending a sort of exciting kind of jolt through him when their eyes met. 

MC’s eyes were sharp and intense, not leaving Levi's as they moved closer to him. He sat up right straight and moved his hands to his sides, inadvertently making way for MC's knees to straddle him beneath them. Now slightly taller than Levi, MC cupped his face with both hands, eyes on fire.

"There's another gift I wanted to give you," their faces only inches apart, he could feel MC's breath on the bridge of his nose. "If that was okay with you."

A burning feeling was making its way through Levi's body, suddenly intense all around the middle of him. He was sure his face was blushing, betraying the cool facade he had worked so hard to keep around MC. He didn't care.

He gulped, "Y-yeah, what—" Levi cleared his throat, though it had little impact on the clear cautiousness in his voice, "—that's fine with me." He nodded, eyes still diving deep into MC's. He had known they were beautiful before, but there was a light burning in them tonight that was only ever hinted at before, and now it was devouring him.

MC took in a breath, and leaned into his lips, closing their eyes as contact was made. His lips were soft and full. MC slid a hand from his cheek up to his hair, intertwining their fingers with the lush blue strands. His arms, acting on instincts he was not familiar with, wrapped around MC, bringing them in closer than they already were. Their lips danced against each other, slowly at first, then partying gently letting MC's tongue meet Levi's. Heartbeats started to pound faster, each sure the other could hear it. Levi felt a pinch on his bottom lip and watched as MC pulled away slightly, his lip gripped delicately between their teeth before they let go.

"Take off my dress, Levi." He did as he was told, ripping the dress off of MC's body, literally. Levi exhaled as he took in MC before him. Perfect, everything about them was perfect. And here they were. Straddling him, his hands seemingly free to roam, fully naked on his birthday. His head was spinning.

MC lifted his face by his chin, one eyebrow cocked. "I'll get you another one off Akuzon." He half smiled, hoping he was not in too much trouble, but they only dropped their hand and smiled. "Strip."

Levi again complied, painfully taking his hands off of MC and pulling his shirt over his head. MC's hands were warm against his skin, they we're wrapping themselves around him again, "Let me help you," MC said as they went in for another round kisses. This time their hands slid themselves over Levi's body, starting on his neck and down his torso, finally reaching the button on his jeans. Meeting no resistance, MC undid the top button and unzipped the zipper, already feeling a bulge against their hand as they did so.

Levi came through his fog of desire for a minute. "W-wait," he said between gasps for air when their lips parted, "brothers, my brothers. They could come knocking any second, or worse, Mammon might just break my door down!" MC pulled away, a coy smile on her lips as they started to tug at Levi's jeans, "I mean it! T-they could—" A finger was put to his lips, "I've taken care of it, no one will bother us," their smile even bigger now, "You're mine for the night, Levi. Up on the bed."

His pants were shimmied off, leaving him in his boxer briefs and nothing else. He obeyed his demand and raised himself from the floor to the middle of the bed. MC mimicked his movement, in front of him once more. They leaned in close to his lips, close enough to kiss them again but stopped short. They whispered, "Lay back," and shoved him down. Levi reached his hands up to indulge in the beauty straddling above him, but his hands were smacked away. "No touching, not yet." MC began kissing his chest, their soft lips leaving little puddles of electricity wherever they touched. They worked their way lower and lower, to the bulge still sitting in his boxers. MC's fingers crawled into the inside band of his shorts & pulled them down, leaving Levi exposed with a sudden stand to attention. He sucked in a sharp breath as MC took him into their mouth. They took the tip of him first, running their tongue over his head before taking him deeper down their throat. He could feel his toes curling and his fists clenching as MC bobbed up and down with intense pacing. He let out a soft moan, then another followed by a small, "Fuck." This only seemed to excite MC more, them humming back "Mhmm," their vocal chords vibrating against him. He shuddered. MC took him out of their mouth and slapped him against their cheek, "How is that, birthday boy?" His cheeks were hot, blood pumping heavy in his ears and his member in MC's hands. "So good, s-so good. Please, please keep going." MC smiled, and took him again. They licked and squeezed to their hearts content before crawling on top of Levi once more, this time letting his hands reach onto their chest. MC whimpered as they felt him roll their nipple between his fingers.

"Do you want to fuck me, Levi?"

He let his fingers trail down to MC's hips, "Yes," was all he could manage.

"I could let you inside me, on some conditions," there was that smile again, the smile MC only had for him when they were in control like this. The power corrupting anything holy in the space between them, something that got both of their adrenaline pumping. MC’s voice was low and steady, confident, "On the condition that you fuck me hard," they reached a hand down around his hard cock, bringing it close to their entry, "and deep," they were rubbing him against them now, him getting slick with MC's juices, "and until I can hardly take it anymore." Levi himself felt like he could hardly take it anymore. Everything inside of him felt like it was on fire, exploding with lust and desire and longing. His head was spinning and clear all at once, his mouth ached to be on MC, other parts of him ached to be inside them. "Can you promise me all of that, Leviathan? Can you fuck me just like that?" He nodded his head, "Yes, yes, whatever you want, I'm yours, I'll do—" Levi's breath shuddered as MC lowered themselves onto him, him finding them warm and welcoming inside. It sent a volt through him that he couldn't control. His grabbed MC's hips and began to roll them over him, every single one of his senses heightened and in ecstasy.

In a single swoop, he wrapped his arms around MC and had them beneath him without breaking their hips rhythm against each other. Their eyes met, saying everything the other needed to know. Levi wanted MC, MC wanted Levi and there was nothing else in the world aside from them and this bed and this moment. They kissed with passion, moaning into each other's mouths as Levi pushed himself deep into MC. He slid out only to slam back into them, MC arching their back in pleasure. Levi grunted as he repeated the motion, changing his pace every so often, feeling the slow buildup within him. His hands intertwined with MC's, pushing them above their head into the pillows, their foreheads against one another, panting in unison.

They rolled around each other in a dance only they knew the steps to. Skin against skin, their sweat mixing with each other's as they got more and more intense. Levi had scratches on his back and chest, MC had visible bite marks on their neck and swollen lips. Marks from a battle they both were currently reigning victorious. "Levi I'm going to, I-I'm going to," they grabbed his face, panting as they looked into his eyes above them. He had both of their legs hoisted up in the inside of his elbows, eyes the eyes of a mad man in love, drunk in sin. MC quivered, feeling their own buildup about to release. "Do it with me, Levi, cum with me birthday boy, p-please...Levi..." their voice was sultry and pleading, "I'm so close, you have me s-so close...please, now, n-now, oh–f-f-FUCK!" Levi felt MC contract around him, his signal to release as well, doing so like the good boy he was. Every sensation exploded in a matter of seconds and continued firing for what seemed like a moment looped in time forever.

They fell into each other's embrace as they tried to steady their staggered breath. Euphoria was in the air as the world recreated itself around them. MC seemingly able to move their limbs first, wrapped around Levi, him still collapsed on top of and inside them. "Happy birthday, Levi," they giggled into his ear, kissing him gently. He chuckled, him not wanting to lift his chest from theirs. "Best birthday yet," he grinned, eyes closed. Neither of them moved for awhile, falling asleep in each other's arms, belonging to each other the rest of the night.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

The Stand In Chapter Two

Masterlist

Your finally about to film your first scene for a teaser and things have just became real but how are you going to get through make up along side Henry for hours without fangirling? especially when he keeps staring at you like that?

Warnings: Swearing, fluff

A/n: so got a few people that like this idea which really shocked me. I'm trying really hard to make y/n one of us fangirls I really want you to be able to put yourself in this one. Like seriously if I had the chance to meet him I'd just fucking freeze on the spot go red scream and melt into a puddle of goo... I'd be way to anxious to approach him or ask for a photo..Any who enjoy this next chapter xxx

Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99​ @thummbelina​ @sofiebstar​

You yawned loudly as you trudged out of your new comfy trailer: which was actually one of those fancy ass tour buses. You grabbed your bag with a few bits in it...Phone, snacks, purse, snacks, script, snacks....more snacks. What?You got hungry!You opened the door wrapping your cardigan around you tightly as you ventured out into the dark it was freezing the cold air making you shiver. A four am start was always a shock to the system and today was your fifth, your alarms on your phone had gone of again and again and again, blaring and screaming at you. Since the whole becoming and actress and Lauren pulling a contract seemingly out of her ass thing had happened a few days ago, you hadn't seen much of Henry and Joey they had been busy filming and training.

You were slightly smaller then 'she who shall not be named coughDickcough' so some of the fight scenes had to be reworked...Yes at some point you and 'Geralt' were going to come to blows in a fight scene and you were bricking it. For more then one reason;

One. I mean come on the huge hunk of a man; the star of every single late night fantasy you've pretty much ever had!, tossing you around and possibly pinning you down? Grunting and growling the entire time? and your supposed to look angry? Hahaha no...

And two. Well Henry is a large imposing man and Geralt is supposed to be frightening in those scenes so...How the fuck are you gonna stay in character and fight him when your simultaneously scared shitless , remembering choreography and creaming your panties....Like fuck that's gonna be some crazy self control needed right there. If you get through it with out fangirling; which would be a miracle in itself you deserve a fucking Oscar. But that's a problem for another day...Tomorrow in fact. The point is you felt a little bad because he had worked so hard before and now he has to relearn it all and he has been working super hard on it..you don't want to mess up.

But that’s not to say you have been idle oh no! You'd been hard at work learning lines and undergoing your transformation from y/n into Keira which was completely insane. Once fully kitted out you would be....Well not you...But it was you, a super weird experience you were sure but you was looking forward to it all coming together. You had to wear a wig, your hair was just a little to short naturally skimming your shoulders. You were glad really you loved your lilac hair it took a lot of work to keep up with it!.

The wig was a bright blonde not as bright as Freya's hair for Ciri but still quite light, more golden then pale it was a strange color, hard to describe. The wig itself fell down to just past your shoulders in large loose silky waves and even though you had green eyes you were still going to get contacts, it had been mentioned that they want your eyes to be an impossible bright green, all the mages seemed to have bright eyes and you were no different. You were dreading it , you'd never wore them and have a thing about eyes...You don't like touching them or other people touching them eyes aren't meant to be fiddled with you know? ...You need them to see kind of?

Apart from that things had gone well the dresses just needed to be taken up a few inches and the rest of the transformation was mostly attitude , props and make up thankfully the make up was mostly highlights and color correcting that sort of thing. You walked across the set following the light emitting from the hair and make up trailer, you could see from here a few people were up and about inside. Within a few moments you were inside standing off to the side unsure where to put yourself or your bag ,it was just you and a few of the make up artists there. Holly was in charge of you, you got on well with her helping her out a lot before all this and was glad to have her as your artist she put you at ease which is definitely what you needed ,she came over smiling and directed you to your seat.

"So! Todays the day huh? Your first shoot you excited?" You gave a nervous laugh.

"Terrified more like, Its not long apparently they need a teaser for the character to go out and to stick in the trailer....I'm so fucking out of my depth it is unreal! Each day has been a whirlwind and I still don't know if I can pull this off...I'm not an actress" she stood behind you combing your hair back looking at you in the mirror fixing you with a look and struck your crown with the flat of the comb.

"Hey enough of that, you got this just go out there and give it your best. Joey was actually stunned when you did your reading he said he has never seen an actress like you before" you frowned looking around at her slightly twisting in your seat.

"Probably hasn't seen one like me cos I'm not and actress but okay I will bite..What exactly did he say?" She blinked at you leaning back waving the comb about shocked looking for words.

"You-hah? I don't even, you really don't even know how big a deal this is do you?" You blinked shaking your head as she was caught up in her own shock.

"Err no duh? Not an actress remember" you huffed she pointed the lethal comb to your face and make a circle motion she chuckled when you flinched and spun round twisting to face the mirror again.

"Talent. He and Henry were talking about you the other day, they couldn't believe that someone with talent like yours hadn't been picked up on. Apparently the way you just...Turned off your own personality shut down your personal feelings like that and became Keira so effortlessly is rare... Said it was like flipping a switch. A complete personality change like that with no prior training or mentoring is the holy grail. Untapped talent I think was the term used. Henry said he has only seen it twice before and that is saying something with everything he has under his belt... So trust me when I say your going to do great" you flushed they thought it was that good? Henry though you had talent.. you smiled feeling giddy blushing a little.You watched as she moved getting some leave in conditioner to make your hair behave itself.

"It's...It can't be that rare it just comes from having to hide anxiety...Can't let people know your having a meltdown...That’s all I was doing hiding a fucking anxiety attack!" She scoffed running a comb through your hair making sure the product was evenly spread through the strands preparing to split it into two plaits to hide under the wig.

"Babe I saw the video there was more going on there..Perhaps you should watch it and see for yourself It really was like watching someone flip a switch" You shook your head slightly resulting in having the comb waked across it again making you flinch

"Stay still! Its bad enough that you fucking washed it! I can't plait it if your moving!" You sat straight

"SoRrY MoThEr-ouch fuck not with the brush!!" She smirked and carried on plaiting the strands neatly.

"Did you bring your lines to practice?" You went to nod but stopped when she sighed tugging on your hair a little keeping the plait tight to your head.

"Yes I did thought I could get some last minute reading...I think I've got them all down tho" she nodded

"That’s good because your wig is a little late, they are dying it again...Apparently yellow blonde isn't right for your skin so your getting a white silvery ash blond now...A muted tone they said. Think its basically going to be a super light blonde with a lilac or blue tint, fucking wish they would hurry up and choose I need to settle on your face tones! Any who it should be here in about an hour" you whined

"I could have had an extra hour in bed?! Why wasn't I told!? You know your job would be a lot easier if I had beauty sleep!" She laughed loudly tying your first plait off with an elastic before starting the other one.

"I'm sure it would but you do know this is like a late start? Some of the scenes your booked in here for one and two o'clock in the morning~" she through her head back laughing at your pout.You stayed in the make up trailer for a while and Holly had called over to wardrobe about the delay so,thankfully your costume was going to be delivered over here which was less running about for you. So here you were in hot seat waiting ,there wasn't much you or Holly could do at this point but wait.  She couldn't work on your face until she had the the wig on you for color reference. She had left a few moments ago promising a coffee on her return.

You hummed scrolling through your phone messaging your eldest brother and Mother who you had let slip to about your new drastic career change. they were trying to calm you down, knowing you well enough that you was getting yourself into wound up ball of anxiety and panic. You were so engrossed in your phone you didn't notice a certain bear trot in to the room until you had a huge snoot wedged under your phone trying to nudge your hands for some love. You jumped so on edge you yelled out as you was touched.

"OH FUCK WHAT IS-OOOH well hello there~" you looked around quickly then seeing you was still alone you decided to indulge and immediately placed your phone on the table in front of you and leaned back looking between your legs going gaga over the handsome boy. Kal was sitting looking up at you smiling panting away as you petted him on auto pilot. You blinked it took everything you had not to squee out loud somehow managing to keep it inside 'OH MY FUCK KAL! I'm like petting THE Bear... Wow he is so fucking fluffy!...Okay girl stop he is looking at you weird...That’s it chill don't scare him away...Good remember dogs can smell psycho....Cool and calm yeah he is just a dog...BUT HE FUCKING ISN’T THIS IS THE BEAR!' you leaned down cooing at him making baby talk as he lapped up the love moving his head to make you hit the right spots around his ears and chin. You managed to get over the fangirling and enjoy scratching the good boys ears digging your fingers in the thick fur enjoying the softness.

"Oh look at you!? So sweet huh?.....Are you a good boy?....Yesh you are! Cute baby! Getting your chin scratches such a fluffy good boy!" You giggled as he seemed to take your compliments to heart thumping his tail a few beats then stood up you followed rubbing down his back as he moved.

He must have liked your attention because before you know it he was climbing onto his hind legs leaning over your lap with his front paws. From there Kal had sneakily gone the whole nine yards, the happy Akita had some how clambered up into the chair with you making it squeak under the strain as he engulfed your lap still receiving his well earned scratches. You giggled at him moving your arms around him letting him do as he pleased rubbing his belly and chest he sat content leaning his weight on your chest pinning you to the back of the seat.

You grinned wrapping him in a big hug still twisting his fur in your fingers diligently showering him with the attention the good handsome boy deserved.

"Wow look at you such a handsome boy!... OH kisses to? Well aren't I a lucky lady" you moved at he tilted his head back licking at your face being a right soppy little pup, out for all the love he could get.

"Wow your lucky Holly hasn't done my face yet, she won't like you ruining all her hard work!" He pulled away and just panted happily then rested his head on your shoulder huffing. You smiled still hugging him rubbing you face into his fur. Then out of the blue his tail began thumping your leg in excitement. You pulled back from the hug and brushed your fingers through his coat seeing Holly and Henry arrive.

"Oh haha. Looks like Kal made a friend!" Holly giggled Henry sighed looking for him then gasped doing a double take when he saw the Akita draped across you sitting on your lap leaning his head on one shoulder as you petted him. His heart clenched a smug sort of 'that’s my boy!' he enjoyed seeing you snuggling the bear, it was something he could get used to seeing. He snapped out of it and made his way to you both.

"KAL! You what are you doing boy? Come on down!...Tin-I err Y/n I am so sorry... He doesn't usually do this... Come on Kal you big lump! Your probably crushing her!" Kal eyed Henry from the corner of his eye pretending not to here him huffing loudly past your ear. You smiled and waved Henry off trying to be casual as your inner fangirl raged pretty much foaming at the mouth. You was thankful that Kal was ignoring his dad as his big frame hid your creeping blush giving you the confidence to speak as you tucked your face further into him as you spoke quietly.

"I-its fine really...I...Y-yeah was kind of worrying about today he I... I think he sensed my anxiety...His cuddle is helping a lot..." Henry stopped his approach eyeing the two of you. He meant what he said Kal was well behaved and gentle but he never cuddled on a stranger's lap, not like he did with him anyway. But he knew Kal picked up on anxiety attack's and it was entirely possible he had wandered in here and wanted to comfort you. Henry blushed a little and took his seat next to you nodding trying to take in the scene before him as much as possible.

"Okay...W-well don't let him guilt trip you, that boy gets so many cuddles its unbelievable... Just..I-if he gets to much get him down...He knows he isn’t allowed on the chairs..hehe not that you can tell... Its best not to spoil him too much" you flushed smooshing your face in to the Akita’s neck trying to hide from the man who seemed to be staring yet again. He moved forward placing two coffees before you then placed his in front of him. You rose a brow at the two cups.

"I-I...ahem I wasn't sure how you'd want it-fuck haha... Shit.... I meant the drink....you-your coffee...Fuck... I didn't know how you liked your coffee" you blinked at him as he got a little flustered you groaned as you reached forward peeking at the cup as Holly moved about behind you moving her equipment around.

"Henry was already picking you up a coffee insisted on getting it treated me to~" you smiled and reached over popping the lids the first black the other with milk.

"T-thank you ...you didn't have to" his face split into a grin as he mentally pat himself on the back.

"No no your welcome! These four am starts are pretty brutal for anyone to get used to..." he chuckled as you moved over sipping the coffee slowly, you tried not to pull a face it was a little to bitter for your taste needing one more sugar but you didn't want to seem rude. An awkward silence fell over the two of you and he sat there staring, you kept taking small sips trying to hide more in Kals shadow.

"S-Sorry for the coffee....Its a bit bitter I know...Should of added more sugar"

Henry was kicking himself as the silence grew, great fucking brilliant the first time he gets you alone and he says something like that!? scolding himself and his own fucking stupidity. 'How you'd want it? What the fuck Cavill?! Smooth why not just come out and say how should I fuck you? Yeah wait a go!' He sighed leaning back in the chair eyeing you as you sat clearly uncomfortable with him there 'yeah and now be a creeper and stare that will fucking help...Still staring mate stiilll staring....SAY SOMETHING FOR GOD SAKE!' That did the trick he could see you were trying to hide your distaste over the coffee. 'There apologize for shit coffee!' That was his opportunity!"S-Sorry for the coffee....Its a bit bitter I know...Should of added more sugar"  he watched with baited breath shivering as you licked at a small loose drip off your bottom lip and gulped. Definitely nervous... Or maybe you just didn't like him? That could be it! you did run from him and you flirted with Joey not him. Henry could feel a lump in his throat and felt a weight on his chest...Was that it you just didn't like him?...He hummed trying to ease the heavy feelings around him, his own anxiety starting to creep over him he clenched his jaw. No you had no reason to dislike him...You didn't know him he would just have to interact with you thats all...Make him self known then? And then? Maybe let you know he was interested...Drop hints?. He straightened up in his seat a wave of determination washed over him he tilted his head looking at Kal trying not to be creepy as shit.

"I err no thank you...I-its fine... Ive got a huge sweet tooth anyway..." he smiled you were talking, albeit quietly and stuttering but it was a start! He could work with that.

"I will have to...Err remember that for next time." He watched you spin the cup and frown slightly seeing the scribbled name on it. Shit you must think he was an ass! It wasn't your name it was his and Joeys nickname for you....Wow how could he think that was a good idea! You must think he'd forgot your actual name!

"I err me and-well that’s....Fuck" you looked at him a little sad. Yep definitely thought he'd forgot...Tinks had just stuck.

"Me err me and Joey ...well joey gave you a nick name so...it stuck I'm sorry you must think I'm a dick" you shook your head taking a deep breath closing your eyes then placed a false smile. For a self proclaimed 'non-actress' you did so effortlessly and supposedly without even knowing bottling up you feelings and slapping on a smile... He wasn't sure he liked it, faking a smile when he could tell he had upset you.

"It's fine...I don't think your a-a dick...H-how can I expect you to remember silly details like that... We did only meet once and you've got more things to worry about" 'and award to the biggest prick on set goes to drum roll...you ,you fucking ass! Fix it! Fix it now Henry! Look even Kal isn't impressed!' He quickly lent forward wanting to fix his fuck up like right fucking now!

"No! No nothing like...I mean its not a silly detail! Your name it's- y/n I know it! I know your name! Me and Joey have seen you around for a while he called you Tink's..Its after Tinkerbell!..A-a nickname just a nickname nothing meant by it!.....We called you it for so long it just stuck when we spoke about you and ....Well I thought it suited you so just sort of...Yeah.." you blinked at him then looked back to the cup.

"T-Tinkerbell?"

'Holy shit! They gave you a nickname oh my god! that’s crazy....Right focus girl see he didn't forget either he knows you knows your name!...Fuck me! life got weird quick' You bite your lip looking at him confused then glanced to the cup Tink's scribbled across it haphazardly. You smiled at it trying to fight down the building squeal of excitment, it was so sweet you it made you feel...welcome? You'd been worried that you being on the job now had put a strain on everyone. It seems as if everyone has had to work harder because of you and you felt almost...guilty like an inconvenience. Kal sat up pulling away from you then tucked his snout under your chin snorting into your chest. You moved ruffling the base of his ears lightly.

"T-Tinkerbell?" He smiled softly as you pampered Kal you must have started getting upset as Kal moved digging into you comforting you. He loved how Kal was helping you when he himself couldn't. He hissed through his teeth nervously and moved his head around slightly.

"Well...Yes Joey had seen you...And you reminded him of a fairy he just sort of started calling you Tink's you know? after Tinkerbell....It fits....Small and cute" you pressed your face back to Kal tucking your glowing cheeks. He called you cute 'aaaaahhhhhhhgggggg! Cute he. Henry-Mother-Fucking- Cavill called you cute! He thinks your fucking cute fuckingohmygod! Yes girl GET IT!...Right okay and chill woooo! Right yep done? done!'

"I...We will stop if you don't like it ...Its probably weird right?" You shook your head pulling away from his dog when you were sure you could pass the blush off as a chill or something.

"No its...Its fine...I-I just didn't think...You know cos of me you-everyone has a shit tonne more work now...Just feel like well..I don't know burden I suppose" his face dropped.

'you what? You thought you were a burden?' He blinked forgetting all his anxieties and nerves overcome with a need to help you, you got it wrong so so wrong he is ecstatic you were now his costar! He cant wait to get going! That’s why he is here nearly forty five minutes early! So he can get to know you he gathered you must be nervous and well...He wanted to be your knight in shinning amour....Or witcher in leather doublet a it were. Everyone who was 'in the know' was just so happy that you’d decided to do this, your saving The Witcher for Christ sake! But you didn't see it like that? He moved over grasping your hand without thinking,it was only when he felt you tense he realized he was touching you but by some act of god he managed to beat down a full blown fucking melt down trying not to dwell on how soft your skin was. 'Why it is so soft?....what does she do?...Moisturizer?.....Wonder if she'd let you watch?- WOAH OKAY THERE BOY SLOW DOWN!.....But she even smells ugh fuck could just eat this woman....Henry! Stop fucking sniffing her...Shes upset and your just here being so..FUCKING ...CRINGE! Seriously!?...Now would be the time to speak cavill...I mean you are just rubbing her wrist staring ...Again.' he swallowed managing to hopefully shake away his thought before you got too creeped out by him.

"No! No don't Please don't ever feel like that...Your not a burden to me or-or Joey or anyone here! Your keeping this going if it wasn't for you we'd all be out of work...I-I am really grateful for you choosing to help...I Love this role-this project and your the one who has saved it!...I know it must be hard trying to navigate all this but please if you ever need help or anything you can come to me ....Even if its just to talk ....Promise me if you ever start thinking or ever made to feel like that come talk to me...Okay I mean that y/n you can come talk to me anytime" Henry watched seeing an array of emotions cross your eyes you were still unsure but he would help. He would be there for you if it was the last thing he did, he wanted to be a colleague, friend, someone you could come to and confide in!

He wanted you to come to him if you got overwhelmed of upset he had already been speaking about the press tour after he was trying to make sure you were never going to be  alone in interviews he wanted to protect you form the more public side that was going to be the real shock. Filming was easy you knew what you were in for but tv? Journalists and critics? Yes that was going to be... A wake up call luckily for you Henry was going to be all over you by then he hoped. When it boiled down to it he wanted to be so much more then a mentor and friend but for now he would work towards friendship and try to get one conversation over with out fucking up stuttering or blushing. You blinked and nodded slowly.

"Th-thank you for saying that-" he shook his head you didn't believe him and smiled what he hoped was sincerely.

"Its not just words I do truly mean it Tink’s...I'm here for you and so is Kal apparently" he smiled when he got you to giggled the moment of doubt truly passed as you snuggled the bear again. 'And breath...Well that went well...Fuck she is so cute with him, I should get a picture...you know to commemorate her first proper day...Would that be weird of him? Hey can I have a photo of you to keep on my phone please?..Yeah okay maybe not like that' it was sweet watching as kal quickly become your teddy bear. The pup seemed not to mind in the slightest just happy to be getting away with blue murder and get cuddles for it!. He had moved and was now resting his head on your other shoulder sitting up with his back to Henry, Kal was basically hugging you tucking your neck and shoulder under his chin to his chest.

Henry smiled nodding cutely seemingly pleased with himself as he pulled back then. He blinked quickly as if remembering something and sat up getting his phone out he was about to speak but was cut off by the sound of the door as it opened again it was then that Holly made an appearance, you didn't even notice she had left. You smiled happy feeling better in yourself Henry's words meant something you actually believed that he meant it. It was nice to know he didn't hold anything against you for all the extra work your arrival had dumped on him.

"Haha! Here they are one wig for you sir! And for the lady!" She placed two wigs on the table in front of your respective chairs, both of which were pinned on two wig mannequin's. You placed you feet on the bar sitting up getting a groan for one Kal who was comfy.

"Oh shush you" Henry huffed a laugh as you scolded the bear. 

"Wow that’s... How'd they even do that?" Henry looked over to yours and whistled. It was sleek and very very light ah blonde you could just see a hint on lilac from the toner used giving the hair an almost ethereal look yet still a believable tone. Holly gushed

"I know right! They said they took into account your hair color now because of how it complimented your skin....Honestly it mean you wont need as much color correcting as before with the gold! And along side this these came to!" She moved producing a small pile of contact lenses boxes. You looked to her uneasy making some weird unconvincing sound.

"Oh hush love~ contacts aren't that bad! You just pop 'em in" you blinked and gave her a look.

"Yeah...pop em in your fucking eyes! That you need to see!...God they can't like slip back can they?" Henry and Holly chuckled and shaking their heads.

"No...They can't your lris is slightly bulged they sit on that bulge! I can categorical attest they do not slide back or get stuck...I promise trust me?" He tilted his head at you and you eyed the contacts 'well he has used them for a while..so he would know' you gave a slight nod

"Good I promise I won't stear you wrong! I normally wait until the hair and stuff is done and put them in just before make up, sometimes the hair on the wig can get catch them when styling and that is a bit uncomfortable especially if they move" you snapped your gaze to him

"M-Move!? B-but you- You just said they don’t!" He chuckled rubbing his hand over his neck.

"I-I well yes I did just say that...W-What I meant is they can't go to the back of your eye...But if you touch them once in they can slip just...Once their in don't touch them until you want to take them out and you will be fine" you eyed him carefully and nodded.

Holly moved about the room quickly switching make up pallets and the woman in charge of Henry's hair and make up came in with her kit opening it ready to get started. You couldn't help but be relieved in a way to have him turn and stat a conversation with her taking the heat off you. 'AANNDD BREATH...well that wasn't to bad? Sure you used kal as a hiding spot but the good boy didn't mind' you looked to the content dog still rubbing his tummy absent minded. 'Yeah the bear was happy, soo your first real conversation with the stunningly handsome Mr Cavill wasn't to bad....But fuck he thought you were cute? Oh boy that is just fucking mind blown! There you go girl you could die right now and be one very happy woman!... And he wants to help you! And you know I do think he meant that....He is very sweet, and he got you coffee! AAAHHHGGG! Like not dinner but the man got you food...Well food it was a coffee...Still he got it for you babe! You go girl!' Your thoughts were interrupted when a cheerful Joey made an appearance at the door

"Good morning! How are we all today?" You smiled at how happy he was. He got a series of replies from grunts to 'fine how are you?' He spotted you and laughed.

"Shit Kal? Pulling the moves already? You know she's twice your age a tleast?" The dog huffed and you petted him giggling.

"Don’t listen to him boy~ you be you...such a good little pup huh? Yesh you are...And your keeping me warm huh? Little hot water bottle....Yesh you are...You an sit on my lap any time good baby~" Henry chuckled out of the side of his mouth trying not to move as his make up artist began to comb through his hair readying him for the wig.

"God don't tell him that, he would never get off if he could help it, he love his cuddles...And snout kisses its why he is holding his head like that by the way...He wants kisses" you giggled and looked at Kal who was sitting still holding his cheek near your face.

"Oh baby~ you want kisses?" You quickly moved in peppering kisses on his cheek. When you stopped you laughed as he turned to you giving kisses back. Henry smiled your laugh becoming something he was determined to hear at least once a day!

Joey watched slyly. It seemed Henry was going to have Kal be a wing man...dog? In his journey of wooing you. He smirked he would help to! It was clear that you liked Henry ...Henry certainly liked you so it won't take to much pushing.

"So Henry...What are you doing here? Your early not meant to be here until five. " Henry froze and looked panicked and met Joeys eyes in the mirror. Joey smirked knowing full well You had heard Henry squinted at the singer giving him a 'what the fuck?' Look

."I-I wanted to make sure Tinks was okay...It is her first day...Dont want her to be in here going through the motions alone we are a team" Joey smirked 'well okay if that how you want to play'

"Thats very sweet of you!, Oh! Yes we need pictures! It is your first day Tinks!" He turned to Henry's artist who had just got the wig on. Leaning down he grasped the witchers shoulders squeezing.

"Can I brorrow him?" She smiled nodding with a chuckle Joey smiled and ushered Henry up swiping the mans phone from the side and handed it to Holly, who took it and stepped back as joey spun your chair around to face her.

"Do you mind? We need to document this, The day the witcher was saved!" You blushed as both Joey and Henry stood either side of you ,They each crouched a little placing their faces next to yours and smiled, Henry had tucked kal's head to the side so he could get a good view of you. Once the photos were snapped Joey looked at them excited.

"Wow! Henry you have to send these to me so I can tweet them!" You blushed as Henry nodded grinning then looked you his screen then to you. He could kiss Joey! Henry now had a reason to get your number, whatsapp ,face book fuck everything!

"I will send these to you...You know if you want, I mean you don't have to if Joey is tweeting them... But I could send them....Only if you want... No pressure!" Joey sighed watching the great white wolf fumble over his words still rambling. Even the other women were watching fascinated as the unshakable Henry got himself all flustered.

"You know make memories... A-along the way...You never know Tink’s could be the start of a completely new career!haha..." An awkward silence fell over the room as henry eventually trailed of with a nervous laugh. Joeys eyes fell to you, you sat dead still shocked then finally blinked snapping out of what ever thoughts were going on you were slowly blushing. You were definitely interested.

"I-I err sure you can send them to me... Here I'll give to my number..." Joey smiled nodding pleased with himself. That worked beautifully if he did say so himself. Henry sent him a thankful glance as you exchanged numbers. He turned as he had a tap on his shoulder.

"Oh god its time already? I hoped to get to know our Tink's...Oh well we can chat on set" he moved around you sitting on the other side of Henry and sat down letting his own artist begin.

You had sat in the chair for another hour or so getting tweaked then had been ushered to change in a sectioned off little changing room. You came back out ready to see Keira for the first time. Henry and Joey stole glances at you

"Wow...Fuck you look...Wow" you smiled at Henry shyly as he kept sweeping his eyes over you seemingly awed at the final look. If you were honest it made you a little self conscious. How could it not! he was; if you squinted, kind of checking you out..In a way? you avoided eye contact willing yourself to calm down as your heart pounded away at top speed.

"What he means is you look fantastic!" You smiled unsure and pulled at the skirt of the dress, your first scene with them was a party so it was very elegant it was designed to be seductive with a swooping neckline and swirling delicate detailing over the collar  it was heavy to being made out of a heavy velvet material you were happy there wasn't any running you'd collapse in minuets.

"Th-thanks...Its heavier then I remember..." Joey smiled admiring the look."You look brilliant! Look Henry is speechless!" Henry swallowed  dryly. Fuck you looked quickly then turned away... Wow... His fantasy was nothing compared to you here in full costume... Henry shook his head remembering every detail to recall later.

"Y-you look...Better then I imagined! It-she....Your..." you flushed a little and moved past him to your seat wanting to sit down and calm yourself being in costume had brought it home you were doing this...You were going to actually be in witcher as a cast member!. You sat down taking a deep breath. You could feel the anxiety .Shit. Kal popped his head out from under Henry and glanced up at you he was still sulking.

"What puppy?! I'm sorry...I know Holly is so mean huh? making you jump down like that" He huffed again ears twitching then he heaved himself up again and sat before you tapping you with a large paw, you smoothed your hands across him somehow just petting the gentle boy was calming you down. Henry and Joey exchanged looks Kal must be picking up on your nerves.

"Yes oh I know... But don't worry we can have cuddles after okay?" You said calming considerably as you spoke to him. Henry chuckled at the exchange and Joey piped up.

"Is he being a grumpy boy?" Henry tilted his head.

"No a needy boy I think... he has got a new favorite snuggle buddy" you blushed at that and soon Kal laid down out of petting distance. All three of you were nearly done...Well you were done, you hadn't until now seen the whole get up together wardrobe and hair and make up had been separate until now. You quickly glanced up and froze wow...This new wig was definitely better now, you felt... you didn't know it was completely strange seeing someone different staring back at you in the mirror.

"Wow....Thats-this is crazy..." you leaned in turning your head this way and that moving your hand slowly to your face, Henry smiled at you.

"Yes...It's always strange the first time in character..." you nodded to him dumbly still inspecting yourself moving to run your fingers threw you 'hair'

"So fucking weird"

"And about to get a whole lot weirder! time for these bad boys~" you whined at Holly as you watched her wave the slim box holing your contacts.

"Oh? please tell me she isn't getting blue? I love the green!"Joey protest was flattering as he and Henry came closer wanting to see, you stood awkwardly twisting your hands in the sleeves of your costume. Henry smiled opening your box peeking at the color

"Hey...They're going to look amazing! Tink’s you get green look!" Joey leaned over and smiled

"Yeah and they have that nice dark ring around the outside to! really going to pop...Well come on girl get them in we have what ten minuets?" he directed his question to Holly who giggled nodding. You gulped looking at the small colored discs warily...

"How? I've never...They're safe right? wont get stuck of something?" Henry seeing another opportunity to bond with you jumped up collecting his own contacts box Joey took a step back so you could et closer and watch Henry's lesson smirking knowingly as a stupid uncharacteristic grin spread across 'Geralt's' face.

"Here look its fine...Just hold it like this...And pinch it if it folds like this..see? Like that...Then its okay if it curls out and has a lip then its inside out." You watched as he gave you a quick glance.

"I-Inside out? wh-what happens if that happens?" Henry quickly tried reassuring you.

"No! its not-it will just be uncomfortable...Nothing bad will happen or anything its just irritable....Right pick yours up like I’m doing...That's it!...See...Then hold open your eye and....Just try and pop it in...You can do it looking down or up which ever is comfy, I'm used to it so can do it standing up right....And if it moved like mine just has...Typical! just look around and....There see! easy!" Henry explained his contacts lesson well, it did seem simple he let you watch as he placed in the other contact explaining once again how to put them in as he did. You watched intently blushing each time he moved in closer so you could see.

"O-okay...So just press it and it will stick?" he nodded and you bit your lip 'come on girl...that's it just like when you do liquid eyeliner stab your eyeball with it!' you looked to you mirror and began to poke your eyes with Henry and joey watching closely commenting as you did so. One Joey pep-talk and eighteen tries later you finally got them in with a tiny round of applause ,It was actually pretty cool, your eyes popped a really bright and had a dark ring that made your iris a little larger adding to the ethereal atheistic.

The three of you made your way out of the trailer as Geralt ,Jaskier and keira. You took a deep breath when you saw the cameras and lighting as you walked onto set.

"Fuck...shit, shit, shit" Henry and Joey slowed walking beside you patting your back. Henry wrapped an arm around you making sure you didn't bolt which you looked ready to any second, had you not been so panicked you would have clammed up under his heavy arm but it wasn’t on the top of your list of things to worry about right now. Joey followed suit holding you around your back squishing you between them and smiled down at you directing you to the frightening amount of people milling about doing various jobs.

you’d seen it all before but being behind the scenes was completely different to being in front of the camera you slowed until you was barley moving at all.

"Come on Tink’s" with his prompting Joey had in fact sped you up a little, he was stronger then he looked. You took deep breaths trying not to freak out as everyone turned looking at the new comer.

"Th-thats a lot of people.." Joey and Henry hummed in agreement

"Well its a big deal...you've been cherry picked from the assistants Tink's word has got around but everyone wants a peek.." Joey cheerful as ever chuckled into your hair as they got closer to Tomasz who was waiting for you all.

It  was when you saw the director that you really freaked trying to turn around but they two men grunted

"Oh no you don't...Come on your fine"

"I forgot my lines" Henry scoffed

"That fine we memorized them for you to, besides why do you think Tomasz made you do improv?"

"O-okay....I need the bathroom" Joey giggled still helping guide you into the huge makeshift banquet hall

"No you don't its nerves" you shook as they continued ushering you out in front of the crew

"I'm going to be sick" Henry chuckled as bad as it was he couldn't help thinking you looked pretty cute panicking like this trying desperately to find a way to run off and hide.

"Again that’s nerves just breath...We wont let anything happen okay? just take a deep breath...Good now out your going to be fine" you did as he had said to focused on the upcoming filming to even squeal about him looking out for you.

Finally you stopped in front of Tomasz who smiled at you kindly.

"Wow...Look at you! perfect! absolutely perfect! Ready?" You shook your head looking around it felt like everyone involved in the projects was hear to see the stand in.

"No...Not really" he laughed and shook his head at you...You were serious....didn't he think you were serious you fucking was! You didn't know whether you needed to be sick, panic ,cry or use the bathroom.

"...Why are there so many people?" He eyed the crowd

"Well you did pull this whole production from the brink of collapse...They are bound to want to see to woman who has stepped up...I'm sure everyone has told you already but this is a big deal...I don't think I have heard of someone completely untrained taking a role like this. Any way enough chit chat lets get to work shall we?" you were shaking in Keira's boots but...By way the two men still had you stuck firmly between them he knew you'd have all the support you needed, once you started it would be fine.

"Trust me you’ll do fine" he turned with a huge grin

"Places everyone! Remember camera four you start now from the top a sweeping motion left you right? good!" You gulped stomach dropping soon Henry and Joey are moving to their cue's leaving you with one final squeeze and your left on your own wondering. How the fuck did this happen again?.

You took a breath closing your eyes tight looking down collecting yourself pulling a more confident catty seductive woman from within. Unbeknown to you a hush fell over the scene as you did everyone holding their breath waiting to see if you could pull this off.

Joey smiled from beside Henry and said something but Henry didn't even hear what the man had to say, he just smirked entranced as he watched you transform before everyone about to prove to yourself and everyone in the room you could do this. Its what you did last time you closed your eyes and when you opened them you wasn't there anymore.

For anyone who understood what it was, it was incredible to watch everything changed your posture , your aura, your presence felt heavy and playful he could feel it from way over here. When your eyes opened you was a completely different person you could feel it here and now there was no y/n; you was Keira through and through. then with a slow count down the scene began.

"ACTION" you smirked holding your head high. Here we go!