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the-scandalorian · 4 years ago

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Tempered Glass: Chapter 7

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: slow burn, canon-typical violence, cursing, pining, Din in suspenders, fluff Summary: Din takes a job with his old crew, and you and the kid wait for him on Arvala-7. Notes: Sorry this took me forever!

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Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

After you left the atmosphere of Tatooine and jumped into hyperspace, Din swiveled his chair around to face you in the copilot’s seat.

“I should take a job. Everything we made went to Peli, and I don’t like being low on credits. There’s a crew I used to run with...I can reach out to them...” he hesitated then added, “but you and the kid can’t come with me.”

“What do you mean I can’t come with you?”

He sighed, shoulders dropping. “I mean, I don’t trust them enough for you and the kid to come.”

“If you don’t trust them, wouldn’t it be better to have backup?”

“I just—,” he looked away, “I don’t want them to know either of you exist.”

“If you don’t trust them, should you be taking a job with them?”

“We don’t have a lot of options.”

“I could get work somewhere. We could go somewhere safe enough for a few weeks. There are some places where I have contacts, and non-bounty hunting work is usually less conspicuous.”

“I don’t think we should stay anywhere that long right now.”

“But—”

“I’ll feel better if you and the kid are safe together.”

“I—”

When he bowed his head in a silent appeal, your determination crumbled.

“Ugh, fine.”

He sighed in relief, reaching out to rest his hand on your knee briefly. His touch was reassuring.

“But, just so you know, this is only going to work once, so don’t think that my staying back with the kid is going to be a regular thing.”

He removed his hand and turned back around to face the viewport.

“I am taking your silence as tacit agreement,” you said to the back of his helmet.

He chose to ignore that, fiddling with the controls instead.

***

Now that you’d both admitted you wanted to stay together, abandoning the pretense of strategy and convenience all together, things were a little off between you and Din. Neither of you were used to being vulnerable, so conversations were slightly stunted again. You found yourself being overly polite, and Din was doing the same.

That first night back on the Crest, he offered you his bunk.

“I’m not taking your bed. You need it to take off your helmet.”

Besides the unshakable lingering chill of the hull, sleeping there wasn’t that bad. You usually slept with every sweater you owned on and that kept you warm enough.

“Use it when I’m not. You shouldn't have to sleep on the floor.”

“Sure, thanks,” you agreed, knowing you’d never take him up on that. You didn’t want to be on a different sleep schedule than he and the kid.

You did try to nap with the kid in Din’s bunk the next day because there wasn’t all that much to do in hyperspace. As soon as you lay down, though, you knew it was a mistake. First of all, it was crazy uncomfortable (somehow not better than the literal floor and the close walls made it slightly claustrophobic), and second—and far more importantly—it smelled overwhelmingly like Din. It smelled like his pine-y soap and beskar and blaster residue and leather and whatever else made up his infuriatingly good scent. It conjured images of crackling fires and golden skin and warm embraces and taut muscles.

Shit.

There was no chance you were going to be able to fall sleep when all you could think about was him.

The kid, on the other hand, was snoozing contentedly beside you. When you’d fully given up on napping, you edged your way out the bunk carefully, doing your best not to wake him.

Din was sitting in the hull on a long crate against the wall, cleaning his blaster, the pieces spread out next to him. Usually, when you were in the hull at the same time, you’d find a place across from him. Instead, you purposefully sat next to him, drawing your knees up to your chest and leaning against the wall.

You decided you were going to push through this awkward phase and make things not weird right there, right then. And you were going to do that the best way you knew how.

He tilted his helmet toward you momentarily then refocused on the blaster in his hand.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” he said, running a rag along the barrel.

“How does one develop a catchphrase? Does it happen organically or is there an iterative brainstorming process?”

Din paused, sighing dramatically, set his blaster and the rag down next to him, and pushed himself back until he was also leaning against the metal wall. His helmet clunked slightly as he relaxed it back. “This is the way is not a catchphrase. It’s a tenet of the Creed.”

“And ‘I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold’ is also a tenet of the Creed?”

He lolled his helmet to the side, looking down at you. “Okay, fine, that one isn’t,” he conceded.

“So you admit it—you have at least one catchphrase that you regularly use on bounties.” You smirked up at him.

Without missing a beat, Din fixed you with that unreadable visor and quipped: “I’ve been told I have a sexy voice. I’m just giving the people what they want.”

Your jaw dropped, a shocked laugh echoing through the hull. You had planned on teasing him and had not expected him to turn it around on you so smoothly.

“Uh... I was sort of hoping we’d stick to our unspoken agreement to not bring up the stupid things I said when I was drunk.” You looked down at your hands, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh, definitely not.”

You looked back up. “Alright, well then in the name of fairness, we’re going to have to get you really drunk the next time the opportunity presents itself, so we can see what embarrassing things you say.”

He paused for a moment, considering, then said, “Does that mean you’ll carry me home?”

You cracked a smile, nodding vigorously. “Of course. That would only be fair.”

A warm laugh rasped through the modulator. You crossed your ankles in front of you, letting your knee rest against the cold beskar on this thigh.

“I feel skeptical of that promise.” He dropped a gloved hand to your knee.

“Okay, okay I can’t promise to carry you home, but I can promise to tie your shoe if needed.”

“My boots don’t have laces.” He lifted a foot off the ground to show you.

You shrugged playfully: “Well, that’s not my fault.”

“This doesn’t sound like a very good deal for me. I tied your shoe and carried you home.”

“To be fair, both were against my will.”

“But necessary.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Okay, okay, I can’t carry you, and I can’t tie your shoe... so I’ll...,” you bit your lip as you fished around for something else to offer, “...hold your hand? And not let anyone tickle you.”

He huffed and rubbed his thumb over your knee: “I’m not ticklish.”

You pursed your lips. “Right, sure, of course not. My mistake.”

He harrumphed. “Can I ask you something now?”

“I’ll allow it,” you intoned seriously.

“Where are you actually from?”

“Naboo. Most of my back story was true—I just left out the one major detail.”

“Your favorite color?” he deadpanned.

You laughed. “Yes, exactly. What about you? Where are you from?”

“Aq Vetina.”

You waited, hoping he’d elaborate.

“When my parents died there, I was rescued by the Mandalorians and raised in the Fighting Corps.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, placing your hand over his and squeezing gently. “That sounds like a tough life for a child.”

“It was all I knew,” he explained, shifting slightly.

“Still, that can’t have been easy. It makes sense that you couldn’t leave the kid.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, solemnly. There was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there moments ago.

“Less serious question,” you replied, changing the subject to something lighter.

“Okay.” He relaxed a little.

“Why don’t you ever use a straw to drink with your helmet on?”

“These are the things you think about?” he laughed. His laugh was usually a quiet, muffled sound through the modulator, but it was getting easier to pick up on it. “There’s a seal on the helmet, otherwise the filters wouldn’t work,” he tapped the release on the side of his head. “So a straw isn’t a possibility, unfortunately.”

“Mmm,” you responded, “that is disappointing.”

He gripped your thigh lightly, turning toward you. “I, uh, heard back about the job... while you were asleep. It’s a go.”

“Ah... great. I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t hear back.”

“I know. It will be fine.”

“Okay... So, any ideas for where the kid and I should stay?”

To your surprise, Din explained that he had a trusted friend on Arvala-7. When you agreed to the plan, he disappeared to the cockpit to set the nav—a two-day trip.

***

That same evening, you discovered a new favorite activity on the Crest. Before bed, the kid was being particularly fussy, so you pulled out your data pad and downloaded the first children’s book you could find. It worked liked a charm.

From then on, it became a daily routine: you’d read to him until his eyelids drooped before his nap and before bedtime. Regardless of his mood, listening to you read seemed to soothe him. You’d pull him into your lap and settle onto your stack of blankets against the wall. He’d watch your face, enraptured, as you relayed story after story to him. His favorite—the story that elicited the most chirps and grabby motions and ear wiggles—centered on a family of frogs. You revisited that one at least once a day, sometimes more if he was grouchy.

You weren’t sure how to feel about his hyperfixation on that particular story given his appetite for frogs.

At this rate, your digital library was going to be largely children’s books. You didn’t mind.

You noticed that Din would find something to do in the hull while you read. The first couple times, he sat and cleaned one of his many weapons or sewed a hole in his flight suit. Very quickly, he stopped bothering with an ostensible task and would just sit and listen.

When you were still 15 hours out from Arvala-7, Din was seated on his usual crate in the hull, the one next to the weapons cabinet, as you finished the final page of a particularly thrilling story about a snail. The kid was snoring softly in your arms, so you clicked off your datapad, and got up to settle him in his hammock for his mid-day nap.

“You’re good with him.” Din was leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“I guess,” you shrugged, snapping the door to Din’s bunk shut and turning back to him. “I just think about what I liked as a kid. I loved when my parents would read to me.”

He nodded, helmet trained on the floor between his boots.

“I’m sorry—” you started, realizing how that must have sounded to Din.

He looked up and cut you off. “Don’t be. It’s nice for him to have some normal kid experiences.”

“You know what he’d really love?”

“What?”

“If you read to him.”

He dipped his helmet slightly in acknowledgement, rolling his shoulders back at the same time like he was uncomfortable agreeing with that.

Several hours later, you pulled Din down next to you in your normal pre-bedtime story time spot. He had the kid in his arms. You switched on your datapad and toggled through the catalog of books you’d downloaded, all of which had colorful covers and silly, whimsical titles, until you found the frog book.

“Here,” you offered, passing it over to him.

You leaned your head back against the wall and closed your eyes, listening to Din’s serious, even voice narrate the heartwarming hijinks of a family of frogs. The kid cooed and babbled along.

To your (and the kid’s) utter delight, Din’s rendition slowly evolved into a full-on dramatic reading, complete with sound effects and slightly different voices for each character, as he leaned into whatever prompted the most enthusiastic responses from the kid. You kept your eyes closed and said nothing, worried that if you drew attention to this new development, he’d get self-conscious and stop. You couldn’t help from smiling a little though.

When the story came to its conclusion, you opened your eyes. Din was scrolling through the library of options, browsing for the next book. “What do you think? Which one next?” You looked at him, but he wasn’t asking you. The kid let out a string of gibberish, pointing with a teeny finger. Din read out the titles of several options, selecting the one that triggered the most animated trill.

As Din began the story, he shifted until his body was flush with yours. The places where his beskar made contact with you were cold, even through the fabric of your clothes, but you didn’t mind.

By the time Din finished the second book, the kid was displaying the telltale signs—drooping ears and unfocused eyes—that bedtime had arrived.

Din handed you the datapad and stood to tuck the kid into bed.

As he shut the door to his bunk, you said, “I think you just put me out of a job.”

He scoffed, but you could tell he was pleased.

***

As you got more comfortable around each other, Din took to walking around without his armor—beside his helmet—on. Most of the time, he’d even leave his gloves off. He wore either a flight suit that zipped up the middle or a black shirt and pants...with suspenders. The first few times, it was jarring to see him like that, without his armor. He looked wrong. It was like seeing a turtle without its shell... but if turtles were sexy.

The first time he emerged from his bunk with the suspenders hanging loosely by his sides, you stopped dead, mouth hanging open. He tilted his helmet sharply at you: “What?”

“You sometimes wear suspenders under your armor?”

“...Yes?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you and the goofy grin that spread across your face.

“What?” he prompted again, shoulders pulling up toward his neck.

“I just really wasn’t expecting that,” you laughed.

“What were you expecting?” The playful note in his voice left you flustered. He took a step closer, much more relaxed now that he was the one doing the teasing. He was getting too good at flipping things on you.

Instead of answering—because you were not about to address the fact that you had absolutely thought about what he wore under his armor—you strode up to him and pulled the suspenders over his shoulders. He stood uncomfortably still, arms hanging awkwardly by his sides.

“What are you doing?” He looked down at his shirt then back up at you.

“I just want to get the full picture.” You looked him up and down.

“Thought about this a lot, have you?” He quirked his helmet down at you suggestively. It was only the second time you’d gotten that particular flavor of head tilt, and you...didn’t hate it. It made your neck feel hot. You disregarded the intense desire to grab him by the suspenders and jerk him toward you.

Instead, you narrowed your eyes at him, enjoying this new bold flirtation. Without looking away from his visor, you hooked a finger through one of the suspenders and pulled it out a couple inches, letting it snap back against him.

“Ow.” He stated it so matter-of-factly that it obviously hadn’t hurt, but for dramatic effect, he rubbed the spot on his chest where it hit him.

“You’ll survive,” you assured him, patting his shoulder and brushing past him to climb the ladder to the cockpit. When you sat down in the pilot’s seat and kicked your feet up to rest on the console, you still had a smile on your face.

***

A few hours later, you were seated in the copilot seat with the child held tightly in your lap as the Razor Crest descended through the atmosphere of Arvala-7. On the way, Din shared how he’d met this friend—he had helped Din when he was originally tracking down the child months ago.

However, when you asked what his friend’s name was, Din said he didn’t know. Honestly, you weren’t even that surprised. Just exasperated.

Din told you the details of when he tracked down the child, including the assassin droid he'd crossed paths with. He explained how he’d teamed up with IG-11, but in the end, he had to destroy the droid to protect the kid. The anger in his voice was raw when he described watching IG-11 point his blaster at the child.

As the dusty, cracked surface of the planet came into view, you asked, “Is that what caused your thing with droids?”

“What thing?”

“Din.”

He was silent for a long moment.

“Droids destroyed my home planet, killed my parents. They’re the reason I was a foundling as a child.”

His words washed over you, and your heart dropped. You leaned forward in your seat to put a hand on his shoulder. He stayed perfectly still, helmet trained on the controls in front of him.

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded stiffly and reached up to squeeze your hand briefly.

“We’re about to land.”

You took that as a cue to drop the subject for now.

***

You and Din, the kid in his arms, approached a small collection of low structures. You swept your eyes across the uniform landscape—all was dry and sienna and flat. The Ugnaught’s homestead was the only sign of habitation in sight. The buildings were brown and domed, and windmills creaked slowly in the warm breeze. Three blurrgs in a large corral watched you balefully.

“Mandalorian!” the Ugnaught greeted, emerging from the door of his low home.

“Ugnaught,” Din replied with a nod.

“I did not think I would see you here again. What business brings you back to Arvala-7?”

“I was hoping that my friends could stay with you for a couple nights—I’ll pay you for the lodging.”

Of course he'd refer to me and a literal infant as his "friends."

You introduced yourself, offering your hand.

The Ugnaught bowed his head slightly as he clasped your hand: “It is nice to make your acquaintance. I am Kuill.”

At least Din knows his name now.

Kuill turned back to Din. “The child remains in your care,” he observed.

“Yes,” said Din, offering no explanation. He set the child down on the ground, and he toddled his way slowly over to Kuill.

Kuill scooped up the baby, and he chirruped happily, reaching toward his whiskery mustache.

“It hasn’t grown much.”

“I think it might be a Strand-Cast.”

You shot Din a skeptical look. He’d never shared this particular theory of his with you.

“I don’t think it was engineered. I’ve worked in the gene farms. This one looks evolved. Too ugly,” mused Kuill.

You raised your eyebrows at the frankness of his statement. He is not ugly.

“Your friends are welcome to stay with me. No payment will be necessary. I have spoken.” Kuill turned and headed back inside without so much as a backward glance.

“I insist,” Din said to his back.

Kuill disappeared into his home.

Din turned to you: “He does that. Just ends a conversation like that.”

“I understand why the two of you get along so well. Men of few words.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

Din nodded, reinforcing your point inadvertently.

You and Din stepped closer to each other at the same time. For the first time, you let the concern you were feeling color your features.

“I’ll be back in three days, if not sooner.”

He was padding his timeline in response to the worry that was etched across your face. You knew Din could defend himself—that wasn’t your fear. It was that, whether he liked to admit it or not, he occasionally let trust blind him. The irony of that wasn’t lost on you, considering how long it had taken for him to trust you. This was the trademark paradox of Din. He was loath to fully let people in, but he had a tendency to take people at face value and assume they would keep their word—because he always kept his word. He had a surprisingly generous worldview for someone with such a violent profession and brutal past.

Din reached down to grab something small that was tucked in his belt—the metal ball from one of the controls in the cockpit that the kid loved to play with. He occasionally pretended to be irritated whenever he wanted to play with it, but you knew he found it endearing.

He handed it to you. “He’ll want that.”

You smiled and nodded, looking at the sphere in your palm. Din raised a hand to your chin and tilted your face back up to his.

Do we... hug? He doesn’t seem like a hugger.

So instead, you offered, “Be careful, okay?”

“I will,” he promised. He stayed there for a moment longer, looking at you and rubbing his thumb along your cheek. Before you could decide if you should also try to hug him, he turned abruptly to walk back to the Crest.

You stayed and watched him as he walked the distance back to the ship and disappeared up the ramp. You stayed and watched as the Razor Crest rumbled to life and took off. You stayed and watched as it ascended through the atmosphere and vanished from view.

***

It was a relief to be off the ship for a few days—even if Arvala-7 wasn’t exactly your ideal planet. It would be a treat to eat real food, instead of shelf-stable ration packs, and to have more than the limited space of the ship to move around in... not to mention an actual bed.

Kuill was a kind and welcoming host. He offered you his spare room, where you placed your things, and you sat down for tea together in his small kitchen.

“How did you come to be in the company of the Mandalorian and the child?”

“I guess he has a soft spot for people who are wanted by the Empire?” you chuckled, and Kuill nodded somberly. “Now, we’re just helping each other out.” You weren’t really sure how else to explain it.

Kuill didn’t press you anymore than that, nodding sagely. Instead, while you sipped your tea with the kid on your lap, he told you about his background—decades of indentured servitude to the Empire before he worked off his debt and bought his freedom—in the solemn, frugal way that was clearly characteristic of the Ugnaught. You understood why Din trusted him: he was forthright, calm, wise.

“What can I help you with while I’m here?” you asked, already anxious to find something to occupy your time.

“You are my guest. You do not need to do any work.”

“I would be happy to,” you insisted. “I would rather be busy. I can help with cleaning or repairs—whatever you need. My formal training was in programming, but I’ve picked up general skills along the way.”

Kuill nodded and said, “Come.”

He turned and walked out of his house. You set down your tea on the table and followed him, the child tucked in the crook of your elbow, happily clutching the silver ball. Kuill stopped in front of the workstation that was a short distance from his doorway. Tools and wiring and various speeder parts were arranged on and around a long workbench and a collection of smaller tables and shelves. The circular backdrop of the workbench was the repurposed window of a TIE fighter.

An assassin droid was laid across the tabletop.

“Is this the droid that Mando shot?”

“I believe so, yes. It was left behind, in the Mandalorian’s wake of destruction. I found it lying where it fell—devoid of all life. I recovered the flotsam and staked it as my own in accordance with the Charter of the New Republic. Little remains of its neural harness. Reconstruction will be quite difficult.”

“What are your plans for it?”

“To convert it from an assassin droid to something more useful: a protocol and nurse droid.”

You nodded. “Handy.”

“I will have to reconstruct the neural harness, and then it will have to relearn every function from scratch. It will be a blank slate on which to program something nurturing instead of destructive. You may help me restore him if you would like.”

“Of course.”

The two of you got to work.

***

That night, when you lay down to sleep, you tossed and turned. The child was snuggled in a makeshift crib next to your bed. You found yourself sitting up periodically to check on him. Every time you checked on him, he was sleeping soundly.

Eventually, you slipped out of your bed, tiptoed quietly through the house, and walked out into the cold, clear night. You walked aimlessly for a while, circling the corral of blurrgs. They were asleep, eyes shut tight, standing in a close clump. Then you turned to head out across the open plain and watch the stars through the thin veil of clouds that dusted the sky.

You were starting to regret that you hadn’t pushed harder to go with Din. He was with a whole team of people who sounded untrustworthy at best, malicious at worst. You couldn’t help but think of all the things you should have said to him before he left. You hadn’t even hugged him.

It was freaking you out a little just how attached you were to a man who you’d known for a couple months.

You walked until the chill of the night air became too much, then turned back.

In the morning, you sat at Kuill’s kitchen table again, feeding the child. Kuill moved around the small food prep area, pulling together breakfast and making tea.

You followed Kuill as he went about his daily jobs, caring for the blurrgs, doing routine maintenance, and continuing the work on IG-11.

You were sweating in the sun, hands covered in grease, concentrating on refitting a damaged arm joint when Kuill’s calm voice brought you out of your train of thought.

“It is curious that the Mandalorian elected to keep the child.”

You looked up at him. “He secretly has a soft heart,” you said, smiling to yourself.

“Yes, that much is clear, but he is also set in his beliefs, and this choice went against the Guild Code. What is curious is that such a small being could inspire a change of heart in such a rigid person.”

You considered his words.

“I... think he was just waiting to find a greater purpose than hunting, to find someone to love, you know? It comes naturally to him, but I don’t think he’d ever had the chance.”

Kuill hummed thoughtfully. “Is that not what we are all doing—looking for a greater purpose?”

“I guess?” You shrugged.

“And have you?”

“Have I what?” you asked, wiping a bead of sweat off your forehead.

“Have you found the greater purpose you were looking for?”

You considered for a moment then said, “Well... I found a purpose a long time ago, when I joined the Alliance, and since then, I’ve been too busy trying to escape the wrath of the Empire to really think about what’s next in the larger sense... Staying alive has been the main priority.”

Kuill hummed again, glancing over at the kid. “You weren’t looking for something greater, but it appears to have found you.”

“I...,” you started. You watched the child, who was siting on the hard ground admiring the silver ball clutched in his hand. “I’m not sure.”

“I have spoken,” said Kuill, bowing his head, and he lapsed back into silence.

You watched the kid as he dropped the ball and staggered to his feet, squealing excitedly as he chased a lizard that darted past him. You wondered where Din was at this exact moment, and your heart squeezed in a familiar way.

***

The second night was much like the first. You walked outside for some time, thinking of all the awful things that could be happening to Din.

What if they turn on him?

What if another hunter finds him?

What if he doesn’t come back?

It wasn't a crazy thought. You were used to people not coming back.

Until that moment, you hadn't considered that you'd be the sole guardian of the kid if Din didn't return. For a split second, you felt the crushing weight of responsibility for the life and safety and happiness of the tiny green child that Din must feel at all times.

Eventually you fell into a fitful sleep, waking early, and the day dawned bright and cold. As the sun climbed, the chill rapidly dissipated, making way for a dry heat that seemed to be the only weather condition on Arvala-7.

You spent the morning helping Kuill continue the repairs on IG-11. You did your best to not count the hours that slipped by. He’d said it could take three days, so there was no reason to be concerned yet.

But... did he mean he would return ON the third day? Or the fourth day?

And for that matter... did the day he left count as day one? Or was yesterday day one?

Did he mean seventy-two hours from the time he left? Or that he’d be back at the start of the third day?

How did I not clarify this before he left??

That evening, you were in deep in discussion about artificial intelligence when Kuill said, “I believe your Mandalorian has returned to you.” He pointed behind you, and you whipped around to see the Crest touching down in a cloud of dust in the distance.

“Will you—?” you asked, turning back to Kuill.

“I will watch the child.” He seemed vaguely amused by your enthusiasm.

You sprang to your feet and walked as fast as you could toward the Crest. You briefly considered running, but that felt dramatic. He’d only been gone a couple days.

Why did he land so fucking far away?

You’d made it about half the distance when the ramp of the Crest finally began to lower with a hiss. Your resolve snapped, and you started to jog. Din descended the ramp, and you were so relieved to see him that you weren’t even embarrassed anymore that you were literally running to him.

Din cocked his head—a curious head tilt—when he saw you sprinting at him across the dusty ground. He paused at the bottom of the ramp.

“Are you—?” he started to say as you crashed into his chest and wrapped your arms around him. He barely budged upon impact.

His shoulders relaxed immediately, and he pulled you tight against him.

Well, if he wasn’t a hugger before, he is now.

“I’m okay,” he reassured you.

“Good,” you said into the fabric bunched around his neck.

After a moment, you released him and stepped back, the steadying weight of his hands remaining on your arms. He looked like he was in one piece, but the slight heaviness in his shoulders told you that the job had taken a toll on him.

“I, uh, missed you too,” he said, a little awkwardly.

You smiled at him and took his gloved hand in yours to walk back towards Kuill’s home. You felt slightly giddy that you were casually holding the Mandalorian’s hand. He seemed taken by it too, his helmet tilted down to where your fingers were intertwined.

“The kid?” he asked, looking up to your face.

“He’s good. Misses you, I think. Ate several frogs. And one lizard. The usual. He is disgusting,” you laughed.

Din made a sound that you would almost swear was a snort. “Yeah, he is,” he agreed fondly.

Kuill was waiting outside his home, the child in his arms. When you and Din were close, Kuill set him down, and the baby tottered over to wrap his tiny arms around Din’s calf.

You watched as Din bent stiffly, slowly to pick up the kid.

“You’re hurt,” you realized.

“I'm fine,” he said.

You felt sure that wasn’t true, but you let it be for the moment.

“Thank you,” Din addressed Kuill. He reached into the pouch of his belt for credits.

“I will not accept payment,” Kuill insisted, shaking his head. “In fact, your friend here helped me make great progress on my current project.” Kuill raised his eyebrows at you.

“Very well,” Din acquiesced.

You gathered your things and said your thank yous and goodbyes, returning to the Crest, which—with a jolt—you realized was already starting to feel like home.

***

Chapter 8

***

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#my writing #tempered glass #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin x f!reader #mature #mando x you #mando x female reader #mando x f!reader

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side-shuffling-hyperfixations · 2 years ago

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would love to see your take on 18 on the trust building meme! love your art and writing 😊

18. Making up after their first argument

“Hey,” Peter Two managed, swaying awkwardly back and forth against the stiff silence that stood between them; it was practically tangible. Peter Three didn’t glance back at him, didn’t even acknowledge his presence—but at least he didn’t instantly snap at him to leave either. “Can we talk?”

Three scoffed at that, briefly tossing his head. “I don’t know, can we? Or are you going to keep nitpicking every little syllable that comes out of my mouth?”

And there it was again, that defensive cynicism that always made Peter Two’s stomach roil. “I wasn’t—! Ugh…” He had to bite the inside of his cheek against his first prickly instinct. He hadn’t come here just to pick up the shouting match where it left off; he came to cool things down. “I didn’t mean for it to come across that way. I’m sorry if I was…”

“Controlling? Overbearing? Micromanaging?”

“…Sure, that. It wasn’t my intention.”

“Then what was it?”

“Trying to help you course-correct your mindset.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t help, okay?” Peter Three finally turned just enough to shoot him a glare. “Having you call me out every time I say anything remotely negative, it doesn’t help! I know how messed up I am and how—how much better you are. I don’t need the reminder.”

“That’s not what this is about!” Peter Two sputtered, aghast. “I’m not better than you, I’ve never thought that for a second! What I am is further along on this path than you are. I’ve been where you are right now. I know all the putdowns, all the self-deprecating little remarks that you—that we play off as ‘jokes’. I know how toxic they can get; I don’t want that for you. It’s so frustrating to hear you saying all these things about yourself! Don’t we get enough of that from the press?”

Peter Three’s narrowed eyes darted away without a word and Two stifled a sigh.

“You and I are used to working alone; it’s easy to get too wrapped up in our own heads because most of the time, we’ve only got ourselves to think about…but now there’s Peter One. We have to set a good example for him; we’re the only people he has to look up to. It hurts him to hear you talk so bad about yourself. He loves you. We both do.”

The muscles in Peter Three’s jaw continued to work for a few more beats before he squeezed his eyes shut, inhaled deeply and forced a small nod. “I know. I know, I know you’re trying to help but it doesn’t exactly feel like love when your little nudges in the right direction are more like manhandling.”

“Okay. I’m sorry for putting too much pressure on you. I guess I thought tough love might be more effective than finger-wagging like my Aunt May…At this point I just don’t know what else I can do.”

“There isn’t anything else. It’s not your job to fix me…I-I shouldn’t be letting you think it is. You’ve been pushing me to be better cos I haven’t been pushing myself. So I let you because I knew you were better about it than I am…and then somehow ended up resenting you for it?” With a halfhearted, humorless attempt at a laugh, he shook his head. “Like I said, it’s all messed up. I’m sorry, man. My self-deprecation, my habit, my problem; I’m the one who has to work on it.”

“And I’ll work on letting you work on it without hovering over you, if you promise you’re actually going to try.”

“Yeah. I’ll try.”

#marvel #spider man #spider man no way home #fanfiction #peter parker #peter two #peter three #tobey maguire #andrew garfield #ask meme #answered ask #anonymous #thank you for the request!#it was a lot of fun :D

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bts-weverse-trans · 4 years ago

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201125 Weverse Magazine ‘BE’ Comeback Interview - V

V: “I wish we were back with ARMY, laughing together” BTS BE comeback interview 2020.11.25

During V’s photo shoot, he’s wearing a different expression in every photo on the monitor. They create a tension and an anticipation because we have no way of knowing what he might do even one second later. But the result is cool from start to finish. It’s V.

How are you doing these days? It’s been a long time since you were able to see your fans. V: I’m not over-stressing about how I can’t meet the fans face to face right now. I just want to see them when it’s safe to meet. I think now, I can wait until then.

As your song says, “Life Goes On.” You decided to keep going on with your life. V: We have to move on. We can’t feel defeated forever. I felt a lot better after making some songs.

Other than working on “Dynamite,” you’ve spent very little time away from home. How do you pass the time when you’re by yourself? V: I really like just spacing out, so I’ll sit in my room doing nothing for hours. I could try putting on a movie, but then I couldn’t concentrate and would just zone out. When that happens, it’s kind of like I’m living without a thought or care in the world. Maybe I should make a song about all of this someday. Probably call it “Spaced.” (laughs) Anyway, these days I’m looking for ways to keep myself happy.

Have you found anything? V: Well, I’m listening to LPs lately. It’s getting to be Christmas season and I love snow, so I bought two or three Christmas LPs to listen to. I’m also listening to old jazz songs by Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jr. Frank Sinatra is cool, like chilled wine; Sammy Davis Jr. is crazy talented. (laughs)

So that’s the type of performer you find cool. V: Those two were also a big inspiration to me while we were working on “Dynamite.” Sinatra has all this jazzy body language, but he also threw some disco in there. And I imagined how Sammy Davis Jr. might dance if there were a mic on stage and he had to dance around it. They were a lot of help when I was finding a way to be upbeat and cool at the same time in “Dynamite.”

I guess making “Dynamite” must have been some consolation even when you couldn’t meet fans due to COVID-19. V: We couldn’t put on a concert and couldn’t see ARMY, so we were feeling more and more drained. It seemed like an endless battle. We really wanted to see ARMY feeling better, so we had to get back up on stage and make another album so that together we could beat this thing. I want to be the friend who’s always cheering ARMY on, but there aren’t many ways to make them feel better.

How was the whole “Dynamite” experience? You made it to the top of the Billboard Hot 100 and also had a chance to perform in a variety of different styles. V: Shooting the Tiny Desk Concert was a very natural process, which was nice. But actually, with the situation being what it is, we couldn’t really feel much. The day the news came out was of course thrilling. It was great, actually, all of us calling each other and some of us laughing and others crying: “We haven’t gone down the wrong path after all! Turns out we had a chance—it really was possible!”

While you were performing in “Dynamite,” you were also the visual director for BE. I’m sure you were unimaginably busy taking photos, but were you able to communicate well with the other members? V: We communicated smoothly, and I listened to all of their concept ideas and I organized everything around that. If we tried something too natural, it wouldn’t be conceptual enough, so we did our best to strike a balance.

You had everyone sitting in the middle, with the set arranged symmetrically around you. V: That was made possible thanks to everyone having their own ideas. There was no overlap between items, which actually allowed us to create a sense of unity by placing all these different props symmetrically. It wasn’t intended to be symmetrical; each member really did choose something unique.

In your room, you included a violin and a photograph. V: That’s a picture I took. I like photos and drawings, but if I had used any art then I would’ve been using that one particular artist’s work, so I thought I’d better use one of my own photos. I ended up choosing the violin because I learned how to play it but also because I enjoy classical and jazz.

So how do you feel it turned out? V: I made it, so naturally I like it. (laughs) Part of me thinks I should’ve tried something more conceptual. BE was supposed to give off sort of a magazine or poster feel since we didn’t shoot many of those, but it ended up having more of a natural feel to it. But I did think that the next time we try to make a photoshoot conceptual we should move away from that natural look a bit. The group explained their ideas clearly and they were simple enough to do, so I think it all went really smoothly.

It sounds like there were no problems choosing the songs for BE. How did you feel recording your parts on the other members’ songs? V: I like “Dis-ease,” which Hobi hyung wrote, but stylistically it was challenging. It’s really far from my own style so it took a long time to get used to. “Fly to My Room” used to be my favorite song, but it was also the hardest to sing. It was okay at first, until Jimin jumped in.

What about Jimin? V: Because I had to keep up with Jimin, the song went up maybe three keys. I thought I would die. (laughs) It started out as my favorite song, but it was just way too hard to sing.

But why did you have to sing that way? V: Jimin said he was sorry, that he couldn’t go any lower. (laughs) When I first heard the demo version, the key was perfect for me, so I thought it would sound great and I should definitely do it. But then Jimin said he wanted to do it too, so I said, “Great, let’s do it together.” Turns out we went up three keys. So I said, “Hey, what’s the deal? Should I just give up?” But, well, somehow it all worked out in the end. It was a happy ending. (laughs)

People might be able to hear that part better because it’s so much higher. (laughs) The tone of your combined voices and the way they contrast is really impressive. V: Yes, but all that aside, it was quite the struggle. (laughs) And the chorus is really long. I think it repeats, what, four times?

Yes, it feels like the chorus never ends. The production style is very unique. I like how the emotion is carried through the whole way. V: I agree, but it’s so long. The chorus turned out crazy, like I was kind of beating the melody into people’s ears. (laughs) The chorus is good, but the whole song’s melody is really catchy. Whenever I heard the beat, I was totally into it. The way the vocals pick up on the beat and the melody was so original and fun, I just had to do it.

What instructions did you give to the other members when they were singing on your song, “Blue & Grey”? V: I didn’t really have to give them instructions much. I told them it would be nice if they could think of all their problems and then try healing those wounds with their voices, since if they focus on those emotions, there’ll be more feeling in the song. They all did a good job expressing the emotions I wasn’t able to.

It seems like you intended “Blue & Grey” to be a melancholy song. I heard you had originally planned to put it on your mixtape. V: I wrote “Blue & Grey” when I was at my lowest point, when I was actually asking whether I could keep going with my work or not. Even the fun parts of work became a chore, and my whole life felt aimless. “Where do I go from here? I can’t even see the end of the tunnel.” Those kinds of thoughts hit me hard.

Was there a reason for that? V: It was when work was a major challenge. When I’m happy, I want to work, and when I’m happy I can put on a smile and see the fans, but there was just so much work to do. I’m an easygoing, you know, laid-back person, but I was stretched too thin and I was starting to sputter. What I mean is, I was having a really tough time, and thinking, “What’s waiting for me at the end? It’s important to be successful, but I’m also trying to be happy, so how come I’m not happy right now?” That’s when I started to write “Blue & Grey.”

So writing the song was sort of your way of bringing yourself some peace of mind. V: There was a time I was going through something like this. I was having the toughest time, but I couldn’t keep carrying that feeling around with me. Instead, I could use it as a kind of fertilizer. So I took care of that feeling by constantly writing it down in my notes. I just kept writing everything down, and when finally I felt like I wanted to try writing a song, I did. After the song was finished, I felt a sense of accomplishment, and that’s how I was able to let go of “Blue & Grey.” That was one way I wanted to try getting over my problem.

The songs you make or sing solo on all have similar images: night; loneliness; snow. V: I like nighttime and the late-night air, and when it snows, too. I liked those things since way back when, but lately I feel things like snow and the night air keep me alive. They may just be another part of normal life to other people, but to me, they represent very special moments.

That makes me think of the ending from “Blue & Grey”: “After secretly sending my words up into the air / Now I fall asleep at dawn.” V: I don’t really sleep well. I toss and turn and get caught up in a lot of thoughts. Even when I turn out all the lights, I can see everything clearly. I close my eyes, but all my thoughts spread wide open. Then I’m sleepy at work, and staring off into space when I’m alone, with bags under my eyes, but if I want to avoid that then I really have to sleep. Except, with the way I am, it doesn’t allow for it. I wrote about that in the first and second verses; a feeling like, “When I’m stuck thinking like this, everything is grey, and I’m all blue.” I wrote these feelings out as a song, and now that I’m thinking about it again, I’m actually over it. I feel a lot lighter. I sent my words out into the air, and now I fall asleep at dawn. You’re supposed to sleep at night, but I’m sleeping in the morning again. So I say “good night,” but it’s not actually a good night. “I pass out because I’m exhausted” kind of thing. It’s the emotions I felt in those moments that I wanted to express.

What do you hope hearing about that feeling will do for listeners? V: Rather than just some stranger telling them to cheer up, I think it’s better to say something like, “You seem depressed lately,” or, “Seems like these days it’s tough for you to perk up.” “Blue & Grey” is the same: “You’re depressed lately? Me too. We’re in the same boat. Wanna talk about how you’re feeling? You wanna feel better, right? I know, but sometimes it feels like you’re being washed away by a whirlpool of stress.” I want the listeners to hear me saying that to them.

It’s important to express your emotions right away when they’re so overwhelming. V: Yes. I usually write a lot of songs when I’m feeling emotional, but these days I have so many different things to do that I can’t really write anything. I tried to write something before when I had a little time, but nothing came out because the feelings I had were already gone. So I tell myself, “You gotta write a lot when you’ve got the feels!” (laughs) And then I open my notes app and come back to old notes, like, “Ah, so that’s how I was feeling back then? I see. Well, that’s how I used to be, I guess.” So I tried to write “Blue & Grey” quickly, as soon as a big feeling came on.

Then it’s important to revisit those feelings when you’re producing a song or choosing which songs to release? V: If you can’t bring the feeling back, you can’t make the song, either. I release a song if I feel it expresses who I was and how I felt at the time when I wrote it. Even if we record it perfectly, if the result sounds artificial, I would rather release another, more honest sounding song instead, even if it’s not perfect.

Are those the kinds of songs you selected for your mixtape? V: Um … I don’t know. This is my first mixtape, you know, so I feel a ton of pressure about it. I’m thinking all the time about what kind of album I should make so that I can feel satisfied with it. The title track is the title track, but everyone also says to just leave it as it is, but I keep getting the urge to keep putting in more and more.

You usually write and choose songs based on your emotions. Maybe the pressure to make your first mixtape comes from you having a hard time with that. V: I think it still has a long way to go. Maybe it’s because it’s my first mixtape, but it’s so hard. And I feel like it’s a little lazy. People tell me just to put it out and see how it does, but I’d rather know what needs to be fixed before I release it. I also don’t want the title track to be depressing. I want it to be positive and help people beat those depressed feelings. But it’s not easy.

That sounds a lot like what the members conveyed with “Life Goes On.” V: I think we showed the current situation in a very straightforward and honest way. We’re still going, going, going. And the going is tough. But it doesn’t end here. I wish we were back with ARMY, laughing together. I hope we’ll all be happy in the future and keep on doing our own best, cherishing our hope for our happy future.

Trans © Weverse

#bangtan #taehyung #weverse magazine #comeback interview #201125 #2020 #be album

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xpeachesncream · 4 years ago

Text

restart | four

[ SEQUEL TO PERFECTLY WRONG ] | [ series masterlist ]

summary: as you and taehyung start to build your life together post graduation, things become more complicated than what you expected it to be. while taehyung struggles with his inner demons, you’ve become the sole supporter, the pillar, juggling different jobs to keep you two afloat. your love for each other has been put to the test as your relationship continues to face hurdles - hurdles that have you questioning whether or not your relationship will make it through.

pairing: reader x fiancé!kth

genre: post grad au, established relationship au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 4.8k

warnings: cussing/mature language, jealousy, lots of insecurities and overthinking, angst, crying, bar scene, alcohol consumption, flashback scene in the middle of the chapter, a lil sprinkle of fluff, implied sexual content, bickering/arguments

note: honestly, this was ALSO not supposed to get this long but like… 🙃 here we are lol

tags: @enchantaeduniverse @thedarkwinterrose @sapphirejeon @jwlmnbt @bluesharksandfish @ra-mun-e @brightcolorsoffendme @jungcrookthecookbook @sunniejinnie (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Okay, I think that's it." You said, hands on your hips as you and Jungkook walked through your door for the final time.

"What are you selling, the world?" He huffs and puffs.

"For someone who works out often, you complain a lot." He rolls his eyes playfully.

"Where's Tae?"

"Sleeping still." He nods.

"Oh, okay. Ready to go then?" You nodded silently as you grabbed your bag to hitch a ride to the café with Jungkook since he was working today. He starts to talk about the girl who works with you two and how he thinks she's a little cutiepie. He has such a silly crush on her that his cheeks are lightly rose tinted every time he talks about certain encounters they've had. You're happy to see him happy, and you tell him to keep pursuing it since she's a super sweet girl. However, part of you is sad solely because you couldn't say you were 100% happy at this moment. You wish you were, but these problems were hindering you from feeling complete. You just wanted to get past this page in the book.

As soon as you both get to the cafe, you start unloading his trunk and getting everything inside. Jungkook claims he has the last two bags covered, so you walk to the back and take breather just to gather yourself before setting up. But you truly didn't expect to lose it right then and there.

"Okay! I got all the— Y/N?" Jungkook instantly worries when he sees you crying into your hands in the backroom and hurries over to you. "Hey, woah. What's going on?" He gets in front of you, gently trying to pry your hands off of your face.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." You continue to cry as he successfully removes your hands from your face.

"Sorry for what? What's going on?" He wipes your tears with his sweater and lifts your chin to look at you in the eye.

"Nothing."

"The day barely started and you're already crying in the backroom." He says softly. "Don't try and lie to me."

"I just don't know what's going on between me and Tae and it's stressing me out."

"What's going on? Same stuff?" You nod, tears still streaming down your cheeks. You tell him about how he had been super weird about taking Jimin's help and how you both got into a huge argument about it. Then, you told him how last night ended [sparing your poor bestfriend the details] and how you couldn't help but feel used because he simply dismissed you, which is very unlike Taehyung when it comes to arguments and disagreements. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I know he's going through a rough time, but Tae also needs to respect you and look at you as his partner, not someone who's also attacking him or against him. Do you want me to talk to him?"

"No." Simply, no. Because you never get your friends involved like that. You just don't, no matter how much they wanna help. "He looks at me like I am, especially after this whole Jimin thing. I don't wanna say it's stupid because I don't wanna discredit his feelings, but god. Like, should I just do this on my own? Tell Jimin to forget it?"

"No." Jungkook shakes his head. "You're already getting a good start on your goals, Y/N. Don't let that go because of everything going on. Give him some time and space."

"I have been. For awhile now." You sat, feeling completely defeated already, tears still coming down your cheeks.

"Here, I'll go set up and I can take over the table for a bit. I'll ask Isabella if she can cover for a quick second." He stands in front of you, hands out to help support you as if you had lost your footing.

"No, I'll be fine—"

"Y/N, just sit. Okay?" He gives off a small sigh. "Just sit for a second and let yourself take a breather." He gently sits you down and makes sure you don't get up by slowly backing away from you.

"Kook, this isn't Marco Polo."

"I'm just trying to make sure you don't run off because you're stubborn!"

"Hey!" Isabella comes running in, a little confused as to what's happening.

"Hey, can you cover me at the front for a bit?" Jungkook stands back upright in a normal position to ask her sweetly, hands tucked behind his back as he bounced on his feet. This boy.

"Yeah, of course Jungkook." She blushes.

"Thanks. I'll be right back." He gives you a quick look before dashing off. You lay your head onto your arms as they rest on the table, a small headache forming at the center of your forehead.

"You okay, Y/N?" Isabella asks softly as she puts her things away.

"Yeah, sorry. Just a really weird day yesterday."

"I'm sorry." You feel her hand caress your back. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?" She says before shuffling herself out of the room. To be honest, you had no idea what was going on with you, and why you were feeling this way. You were just so sick and tired. Sick and tired of being sick and tired.

This was slowly taking a toll on you, and you weren't even sure if Taehyung realized what he was doing was hurting you in the process.

He can't say he does.

Tae set the weights down back onto the rack aggressively before sitting on the bench, watching Jimin finish his set. They had been working out after lunch, Jimin calling him shortly after Taehyung had fully woken up.

"Are you gonna go to the café after this?" Tae shrugged.

"I don't know, Y/N said she didn't need help and wouldn't be there all day."

"You won't even visit for a bit?" Jimin asks. Usually Tae was rushing to get back to you, but he knew everything that had been going on had been affecting your relationship to an extent.

"We'll see."

"You two coming to the bars tonight then?"

"What are we celebrating again?"

"Nothing. Just getting together like old times. I told Kook, Hobi and Yoongi. They're down." Tae nodded.

"Joon, too?"

"Joon, too."

"Me and Y/N will probably go but I don't think we'll stay long. She has to do that thing at the school—" He scratched his head. "The thing— the exhibit and talking to incoming art students or whatever." Jimin chuckled at how Tae couldn't get his words out.

"It's not whatever."

"You know that's not what I mean." Tae rolled his eyes at him, annoyed all over again at how Jimin had been kissing your ass lately. Cause fuck, the way Jimin had been painting himself as a knight in shining armor, an angel even, was pissing him the fuck off. It made him feel like he wasn't doing enough to support you, or like you couldn't turn to him for help. He hated that feeling, even though he had been rude as hell and showing it in a different way.

"That's fine. Just come out and hang out for a bit." Jimin sighed as he sat on the bench next to him, drinking some water before placing the bottle back down on the ground. "You two doing okay?"

"Yeah, what makes you think we aren't?" Tae asks, getting defensive. Jimin quickly eyes him, reading his body language. He knew Taehyung so well - so fucking well that he knew almost immediately when things were taking a toll on him. Things liiiike.. his parents. As a prime example. Jimin knew Taehyung and his parents obviously didn't have the best relationship, and he knew he took things to heart whenever his father got on him about stupid shit [just like he did over that dinner]. Taehyung wasn't one to show emotion much; he liked showing people he was mentally tough and that he could handle whatever came his way. For the most part, it was true. But, Jimin and Namjoon also knew he wasn't always like that, especially when it came to things that mattered the most to him - his family and you. Taehyung hated to admit it but his family's opinion of him was important no matter what. He was hard on himself because he wanted them to be proud. He wanted to actually feel like he had been doing something good for once. He was still longing for that feeling no matter what he said or did. It was a never-ending battle; like a plot with no happy ending in sight.

"I'm just asking." Jimin threw up his hands, showing that he wasn't suggesting anything behind the harmless question.

"We're fine. I know she's been stressed lately because of work and her art."

"Mmm."

"It's funny." Taehyung chuckles at himself.

"What's funny?" Jimin laughed a bit, confused.

"I didn't expect to be caught up in her like this. After Hana, messing around with all these girls. She's my fucking fiancé."

"Yeah and you better not fuck that up." Jimin stands to gather his things.

"You sound like my dad." Tae jokes, even though he was pretty offended.

"I'm sorry, didn't mean to." Jimin instantly apologizes, knowing everyone had been walking on eggshells around Taehyung lately. "She's a good girl, you've got it good."

Taehyung softly smiles at the thought of you, but he wasn't gonna lie, he was hurt by Jimin's statement. Call him sensitive or whatever, but he wasn't feeling the fact that people were constantly looking at him as a fuck up and hinting at it. It seemed to be a reoccurring theme lately. "You ready?" Tae sighs before grabbing his stuff. They get into his car, departing from the gym to make their way to Jimin's so he can get dropped off before Tae heads home. Taehyung replays yesterday's events in his head, which instantly irks him all over again. But, he has such a soft spot for you that he feels terrible for having been too harsh about it. He was still upset, and he wasn't gonna let up on his feelings. But he knew he should have been better about how he approached it. He knew better than that. He's learned to do better.

➤ FLASHBACK

Taehyung excitedly parks his car at the café to surprise you for your pop up today. He had been working endlessly to finish off finals strongly, and he had been so busy that he hadn't really gotten a chance to help you or support you. He felt terrible about it because you were his babygirl and he wanted nothing but to spoil you for all the hardwork you've been putting in.

He creeps up behind you, bouquet of flowers hidden behind his back. "Excuse me, miss." He says lowly near your ear.

"Holy fuck!" You say as he startles you. "Babe, what the hell! Don't do that!" He laughs.

"What's cookin', goodlookin'?" He wiggles his eyebrows, making you chuckle. "These are for you." He smiles toothlessly as he hands you the pretty bouquet. "And your favorite!" He hands you a Mcflurry cup.

You squeal. "Oreo Mcflurry! Aw, thank you baby." You place a quick kiss on his lips. "But don't ever scare me like that!" You playfully hit his chest, causing him to erupt in laughter.

"You should've seen your face."

"Ha-ha, very funny." You rolled your eyes, causing him to pinch your cheeks.

"How's it going?"

"Welp, I'm almost out for the day." You giggle. "I, uh, may have underestimated." You look down at his hoodie, realizing it was one of the hoodies you had made for a previous collection you sold at Jin's. "Waaaow, cute sweater, who made it?"

"Mm, I don't know if you know her. Her name's Y/N."

"Uh huh?" You nod, hand on your hip, waiting to hear more.

"She stands about this tall." He lowers himself close to the ground, causing you to laugh. "Cute, right? She's beautiful, incredibly smart and sexy. Brilliant visual designer and illustrator. Packed with hella attitude." He pretends to ponder on his thoughts. "I could go on about her, really. She's one of a kind."

"Cute. She must feel lucky." You smile.

"I know, I'd feel lucky if I knew me too." You roll your eyes and playfully hit him. "Ah, I'm kidding." He pulls you into a hug. "I keep this sweater in my trunk."

"Oh, so you keep it in your trunk just for emergency wear?" You sarcastically ask as he holds you from behind.

"Yeah, and cause it's the only sweater I'd choose to wear out of the hundreds I own." You smile up at him. "Mhm, not gonna try and win that one." He places a big, sloppy kiss on your cheek before pulling away. "Show me. How can I help my pretty baby today?"

➤ END FLASHBACK

"Hey, I can't stay out late tonight because of the event tomorrow."

"Yeah, I know." Taehyung says softly.

"Please don't drink too much."

"I wooooooon't." He whines with a small sigh, also slightly offended at that statement. He didn't know what it was, maybe it was the fact that his own father painted him in such a negative light that everything seemed off to him lately. Like people were just out to get him or constantly looking down at him and his actions. A personal attack at who he was. It was slowly piling up for him and he wasn't sure how much more of it he could take.

You prepared a quick dinner while he hopped in the shower. You set his plate aside before taking a look at the mail that had come in today.

Bills, bills and more bills.

You sighed to yourself as it felt like you had just paid things off, but clearly not. Moving into Taehyung's wasn't the greatest idea, being that his space was much more expensive than yours. But, he did have the space you needed for your work. There was money left, but you knew it wouldn't last forever. You hated tapping into your savings and whipping out your credit cards because you wanted to keep yourself clean as much as possible. However, that was proven difficult as of late. It was a sacrifice, especially since Taehyung had cut off his mother's help. Taehyung's pride was such a curse sometimes.

You shook your head, already finalizing the fact that you would deal with it later. You had began to set your things aside for the new student event tomorrow morning. You figured you'd get there early to set up and make your table at neat and cute, so you didnt have to worry much about it right now.

Taehyung comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, hair slicked back and wet. You turn to face him, your eyes wandering down to his chest and bottom area. God, why was he so beautiful? It wasn't fair. You loved him so much that you could crumble even being upset. He talks a whole lot about you being the death of him, when really, this man is going to be the death of you. Truly. There's no debate about it.

Getting to the bar, you both immediately spot your friends in the corner, a huge tower of beer decorating the center of the table. Jimin is the first to stand, coming towards you two with a huge smile on his face.

"Friends!" Jimin yells. "Drink!" He says, holding up two shot glasses.

"Fuck, man." Taehyung says taking the glass. "We just got here."

"So! Y/N needs to be home early remember?" He watches wide-eyed as you two take the shot and make sour faces at each other.

"Okay, I'm good." You say, being that you were the DD tonight. Taehyung could enjoy himself if he wanted to [to an extent], but you definitely needed to be in tip top shape to be a good role model to those incoming art students tomorrow.

Throughout the night, the bar starts to get packed from end to end, you and your friends staying at the table and keeping to yourselves. You could tell Taehyung was crossing the line of pretty fucking drunk, which somewhat bothered you. You literally just told him to take it easy tonight - just for one night - so you could do what you need to do tomorrow.

"Hey." Jimin comes next to you, swinging his arm over your shoulder like he always does. "One more shot?" You give him a toothless smile. Ugh, why the hell not? Your man was drunk, and Jimin had only been helpful lately. You could at least return the favor by taking a shot with him.

"What are we drinking to?"

"You." He smiles. "Your shop. Your art. It'll only go up from here, yeah?" He rose his shot glass up before clinking it against yours and taking it to the neck.

"Mkay, that does it for me." You chuckle. "Thanks for the shot."

"No problem. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." You looked at your watch. "Should probably get out of here soon, but Tae looks like he's enjoying himself. I don't wanna drag him out of here."

"We can just bring him home." You shake your head worriedly.

"I don't wanna leave without him." Jimin chuckles and looks over at Taehyung.

"He'll be okay and you'll be just fine tomorrow. Besides, you can make up all the bullshit in the world to tell the incoming students, they'll believe it either way."

"That's mean." You chuckle.

"Come. Let's dance!" Jimin says, leading the way to the empty space near the table. Everyone gets up to dance, Taehyung slipping himself behind you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

"Can I at least get one minute with my lady without Jimin interrupting?" He says in your ear.

"Taehyung." You flatly say, looking back at him.

"That's your mad face." He holds you tightly from behind as he sways you from side to side.

"I'm not mad."

"Mhm." He kisses the back of your head. "Why don't you have fun with me for a little? We'll go home after this." You couldn't even stay mad at him, with that fucking frustratingly handsome face of his. He was definitely drunk though, you could smell the whiskey lingering on his breath as he danced with you for a bit. You let him be, just so you wouldn't trigger anything within drunk Taehyung. Everyone around you was having a good time, the feeling of nostalgia hitting you pretty hard. You missed the days where you could get together and go to parties after a long week of school. Or, when you would tease the fuck out of Taehyung as his fuckbuddy during parties, or at the clubs. You know, before graduation and responsibilities happened.

But as one hour turned into two, and two turned into three, you found yourself getting restless. It was nearing 2AM and you had to be at the school by 8am - even earlier just to set your table up. You made your way to the bathroom, hoping Tae would get the point and start getting himself ready to leave.

Right.

Once you were out the bathroom, he'd realize you had been gone for a little and start saying his goodbye's. He'd realize time got to the best of him. Right?

"It's a fucking good time tonight!" Jimin tells Namjoon, laughing with him as he watches Joon act a fool with his dance moves.

"I'm sure it is, since you've been in Y/N's space the entire night." Taehyung says it jokingly, but he doesn't realize it only comes off that way in his head. Jimin furrows his brows at him, his high quickly dying with Taehyung's unnecessary comment.

"Don't start with all that. Not tonight. Everyone's having a good time--"

"Or what, Jimin?" Taehyung chuckles like the petty ass he can be. "You know it's true. Don't you think it's a little disrespectful to be crossing boundaries?"

"Hey, let's step back for a bit." Jungkook lightly tugs on Taehyung's arm as he hears the conversation going south quickly. But Taehyung breaks from his grip, stepping forward towards Jimin.

"You really think I would do that to you?"

"Haven't you already? Swinging your arms around her and shit, being all angelic--"

"Tae, come on. That's enough. Don't." Namjoon steps in the middle. "Let's go outside to get some air."

"You really wanna make me look that bad in front of my own girl?" Jimin lightly pushes him away, Taehyung getting too into his space.

"Enough." Namjoon shakes his head, aggressively stepping in the way to create distance. Taehyung shakes his head and walks off, the rest of the group watching as he walks. You finish off in the bathroom, assuming Tae was already getting ready to go. However, you realize your assumption of leaving by the time you're back is absolutely incorrect because when you get to the table, Taehyung is nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Tae?" Kook looks at you frazzled, before his eyes begin to pan the room again.

"Look, don't freak out, but him and Jimin just got into it and he walked off."

"What the hell do you mean they got into it and he walked off?"

"It's nothing, Tae is just drunk—" Kook squeezes your wrist and shakes his head.

"No, it's not just nothing because you and I both know how he's been feeling lately." You run your hand through your hair. "What did he say?"

"He just got into it about Jimin getting close to you lately, and how he felt like he was disrespecting boundaries." You sigh heavily.

"Fuck."

"We have an issue." Namjoon comes back from out of the blue. "He's not around."

"What do you mean?! Where did he go?" You run your hand through your hair.

"Okay, let's not panic." Jungkook tries to relax you. "Let me go check the bathrooms." Namjoon nods as he continues to look around the room.

"Please? We should get home." He nods to you before he's off to check for Tae in the bathroom. You stand near the table awkwardly, worry filling you quickly the more time passes.

"Hey, you okay? What can I do?" Hobi squeezes your arm, his face flushed with a red tint from how tipsy he is. You give him a small, reassuring smile and nod to try and keep calm.

"I honestly don't know anymore, but I'll be good. I think. We're just gonna look for him and head home."

"Is Kookie looking in the bathroom?" You nod. At this point, you catch a glimpse of Jungkook coming back alone.

"Jungkook?"

"I'm sorry, I couldn't find him in there. I swear I tried."

"So, where the hell is he?" Jungkook shrugs.

"Lets check around again. I won't leave until we find him."

"Have you tried to call him?" You had already beaten Yoongi's question, calling Taehyung's phone only to see his phone vibrating and ringing on the fucking table. "Hm, okay. Maybe not."

"Fuck." You snatch Taehyung's phone from the table. "Is he serious right now? It's about to be 2:30AM. How the fuck can he get lost at this time?"

"Y/N just go home, we'll find him and bring him home." Jimin says, coming back from roaming around the place.

"No, I'm not leaving here without him."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen." He says, looking at you in the eye. Although he was pretty fucking pissed, he couldn't help but worry about him either. No matter what, that was still his bestfriend. He didn't want anything to happen to him.

"It's not your fault."

"We need to check around the neighborhood." Jungkook suddenly comes back and grabs your arm. You follow him, Yoongi, Hobi, Namjoon and Jimin outside of the bar, the cold hitting your skin harshly.

"Let's split." Namjoon says. Jimin and Hobi split, Namjoon and Yoongi sticking together to go down a different path. You kept yourself close to Jungkook, knowing there were all sorts of drunk ass men out at this hour and you weren't helping wearing a tiny ass skirt and a deep cut shirt.

"Cutiepie, let me come holla!" A dude yells as he tries to swing his arm around your waist. Jungkook easily pushes him off, glaring at him.

"Back the fuck up." He spits out, your bestfriend coming to your rescue amongst the sea of men you're encountering on the sidewalk right now. He throws his jacket over your shoulders, hoping to shield you from them and the cold. "Your outfit." Jungkook frowns, a little worried.

"I mean, I didn't expect to lose Tae tonight." Once you had gotten to a quieter part of the street, you come from behind to walk beside him. "Where the hell could he have gone?" You whine. You're more worried for his safety and wellbeing right now more than anything and all you wanted to do was find him and bring him home, even though you were slightly worrying about yourself and how things would go tomorrow. You could give him an earful later. It could wait.

"He couldn't have gone far." You both continue down the street, heading towards your car, hoping he may be around the area. Jimin calls to check in, saying him and Hobi hadn't caught sight of him yet, and the same thing goes for Yoongi and Joon. You almost want to cry when you don't see Taehyung near your car, but Jungkook ends up walking further down towards the park near your parking spot. "Y/N! Here!" He calls out, running towards an individual slumped over on their knees on a bench. "Taehyungie?" Jungkook sits next to him and shakes him a bit.

"Shit dude, I just kept walking then I suddenly had no idea where I was at." He drunkily says as you sit next to him and sigh heavily.

"No one said you had to do that, Tae."

"I just needed some air."

"Yeah and look where that got you, it's close to 3AM." You respond, irritated.

"Y/N." Jungkook says softly, shaking his head at you as if he were signaling for you to quit with your attitude. "Let's go back to the car." Jungkook watches him stand up and wobble a bit, but eases up when he realizes Taehyung is capable of walking himself to the car. You three get back safely, letting the others know that you had found him before driving Jungkook back towards the club so he can meet with everyone else. You quickly thank him for his support before driving off to head home.

The car is incredibly cold, and silent.

"Love, I'm sorry. I just needed air and got lost." He breaks the silence.

"I see that." You say softly as you drive home, keeping your eyes glued to the road in front of you.

3:23AM.

"Please don't be mad." He gives your thigh gentle squeeze. "I just got a little into my head tonight." You sighed, gently removing his hand from your thigh.

"Taehyung, I'm your fiancé, I'm doing this with you and only you. Do you even understand how worried I was? You just walked off, without your phone. Without saying anything to me. Just cause you got in your head for no reason."

"I'm sorry." He repeats at a whisper. You don't say anything else for the rest of the drive home. You silently park the car and head to the apartment, Taehyung sluggishly following behind you. He knows you're bothered, knowing it's closing to 3:30AM and you had an early morning. Honestly, he didn't realize how drunk he was until he had gotten himself into that argument with Jimin then got lost, especially without his phone. The fact that he had made you worry and stress like that made him feel terrible, especially after these past few days. You could have easily left, but you didn't leave without him even if it was this late. He instantly just wanted to cuddle you and tell you how sorry he was.

You quietly get ready for bed and line your things up by the door, just so it would be an easy quick and grab as you head out in the morning. You slip yourself into the sheets, Taehyung following shortly after he gets himself ready for bed. He shuts off all the lights and grabs himself a water bottle to sit by his nightstand before slipping in next to you.

"I love you." He whispers against your ear, wrapping his arms around you. But you don't respond. He peeks over to see your eyes shut, silently sighing to himself as he nuzzled his head against the nape of your neck. He knows you aren't fast asleep yet, and it hurts him that you hadn't said it back. You both just knew exactly how to love each other well, but also push each other's buttons. But, maybe, it was true - he was just fucking up left and right lately. Enough for you to go to bed without saying 'I love you' back.

youtube

'cause baby if i find a way, i'm sure of it, this love won't stray; just give me a chance to say i love you, and i need you. now are you here to stay, or fade away like every other day? you're the reason that i lie awake

track two: 3AM - finding hope

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mightbewriting · 3 years ago

Text

m o o n

on today’s wheel of doom installment: theo nott x sirius black / potions accident. this was...a tough one lol. please enjoy the ensuring chaos (and liberal interpretation of a ‘potions accident’) below.

Time travel is fun. Generally speaking. From a totally academic and definitely-not-at-all illegal viewpoint. It does tend to be finicky though, but I am nothing if not adept at unfinicking the finicky. Though that particular accolade has only been bestowed upon me as it relates to fussy babies. I like to think of it as a transferrable skill. Surely there exists something of a transitive property between babies and time travel. If anyone can figure it out, my money is on myself.

That’s just good self marketing right there. A young man, fresh out of Hogwarts with a few too many war crimes peripherally present on my resume, selling myself as palatable (and imminently hirable) is basically a full time job in and of itself. I figure if I solve (or break) a couple laws of the universe, maybe give good old Gamp a run for his money, I’ll have a shot at something of a future functioning in a wizarding world that isn’t looking too fondly on my family name at present.

Am I getting enough sleep? No, definitely not.

Have I eaten anything remotely resembling a vegetable in the last week? Can’t say for certain unless we’re counting tea leaves.

Have I sat down in the last twelve hours? I’m embarrassed to admit I don’t think I have.

Am I very, very tired and in need of a break? I mean. Yes. But there are discoveries to be made. Futures (mine, and others) to secure.

I may feel fit to fall over any second, but I’ve been trying to perfect a potion meant to stabilize some of the flittering-fluttering-time-slipping nonsense that keeps happening every time I try for anything longer than a minute or two forward or back in time.

Realistically, do I have any idea how time travel works? Can’t say that I do. But sometimes I make it happen. And when I do, I have a tendency to not have any control over the process. Then get slingshot back to the present. The fact that I can time travel is resume-worthy stuff, right there. Currently, just trying to figure out how I’m doing it.

The not sleeping, not eating, not resting combo, in retrospect, is likely to blame for the way my entire lab goes up in a bright magenta plume of opaque, glittering smoke the second I opt for an experimental anti-clockwise stir in my cauldron.

I cough, eyes screwed shut. Pretty sure there’s glitter forcibly integrating itself with my cornea. I make a mental note to try and figure out why glitter has even made an appearance when I was most certainly engaged in very serious potion brewing and not arts and crafts time. Sometimes I think magic is playing a trick on me. An ironic entity fucking around just for the fun of it. Which honestly, can’t say I blame it.

“You okay down there?”

It takes a second for me to realize there’s a voice talking to me. That it’s talking from somewhere above me. That it’s backdropped to some major drumbeats. That it feels like I’m sitting on cold, hard asphalt.

I finally force my eyes open, glitter abrasions forgotten, expelling the remaining wisps of a cough from my lungs and I find myself looking up into the face of a criminal.

Well, a very young criminal. But one I definitely recognize.

I guess that means I’ve managed time travel again. No idea how. The traveling in space bit is new. Because this isn’t Nott manor, that’s for sure. Feels more likely I’m somewhere in the middle of London.

I blink up at Sirius Black, distinctly neither dead nor screaming at me from a wanted poster, as he takes a long drag from the cigarette pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He drops the remainder to the ground and stomps it out with his heavy black boot.

“Good fucking thing I had this alley under a concealment charm so I could smoke in peace. That was some entrance.”

I realize I haven’t said a thing, still staring up at a very young, very fit Sirius Black. An adult, but not incarcerated. That puts me in a very tender timeline somewhere between 1978 and 1981 most likely. Those wanted posters were a crime; this man is fit.

“Right. Sorry about that,” I say, accepting the hand he offers to help me stand. “Just an little potion experiment gone wrong.” I glance at the door to the building beside us, from which music pours into the alley. Loud and alluring.

When I look back at Sirius, he’s watching me with an intense, dark gaze, painted a deep purple by the neon lights to a tattoo parlor opposite us. Typically, it’s the kind of look I very much like getting, especially from someone with the audacity to pull off a leather jacket that tight around his biceps.

Sirius seems to consider what he says next, working the stubble over his jaw before finally speaking. “Whatever you’ve got going on, I’m just here for a good time.” His head shifts almost imperceptibly at the door behind him.

In an instant, I understand the invitation for what it is. I smell the smoke of his cigarette, the whiff of alcohol permeating the alleyway, the exhaustion-tinged edges to Sirius’s tough exterior. Exhaustion I know in my own way, too. He’s a man on the brink of war and this is an escape.

I smile. “Same,” I say, reaching out to pull the door open, flooding us with music. I could use an escape too.

My lightweight wool trousers and crisp oxford are wildly out of place amid a see of cotton tees, leather in every sartorial configuration imaginable, studs, chains, and the sweltering ebb and flow of bodies pressed together in a sea called rhythm.

Sirius doesn’t seem to mind. At least, judging by the way he hooks his fingers through my belt loops and pulls us flush together, I certainly get the sense he doesn’t.

Is this what fun feels like? I think I’ve forgotten. I’m reintroduced, sharply and wonderfully, pressed to a man’s chest, breathing in his sweat-soaked cologne, and nursing a rapidly growing erection against his hipbone.

His hands grip my hips; mine pull at the low bun knotted at the base of his neck. I haven’t had a drop to drink and I am definitely drunk on the unspoken promises in Sirius’s stare as we sway, clinging to each other in a mass of writhing bodies, blanketed in a musical tempo mirrored in my blood.

I let him pull me to the edge of the crowd. I slip with him into a dim corridor. I assist, eagerly, with locking the door to the tiny toilet behind me. And I gasp, loudly, when Sirius pins me to the door, rough stubble a sandpaper against by throat as he sucks my pulse point.

I surrender to a tide that allows me to let go. I never know how much time I have, wherever I end up. And this is the most fun I’ve had in longer than I care to admit, probably longer than I can remember. Genius is unrelenting, or something like that.

I’m no genius when Sirius gets my trousers open and wraps his hand around my cock; I’m nothing but a whimpering mess. I reach out and find his shoulders, feeling like I’m not doing enough, and demand a kiss from him. It’s incoherent and messy, paced to the slow up and down of his hand on me.

When he pulls out his own cock, lines it up with mine, and spits into his hand before wrapping it around the both of us, any attempts I’d had at participating take a back seat to blinding pleasure. I’m lost to the thump of music beyond the dark toilet we’ve sequestered ourselves in, to the slick sounds of our cocks in his hand, to the way pleasure shoots like magma through my veins.

I probably would have sunk to the filthy, grime-encrusted floor if not for the way Sirius’s body pins me to the door, how he’s started sucking bruises into my neck again. In inhale another huge pull of his cologne, now edged with the stench of sex mixed with sweat.

It sends me over, clutching his supper leather lapels and groaning into his dark hair. I see glitter right before I slam by eyes shut: magenta, opaque.

When I blink again, I’m in my lab. Almost certainly back in my own time. My clothes are perfectly righted, cock right where it belongs inside my trousers.

But there’s a thumping in my veins, familiar and foreign.

#wheel of doom

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starsstruck · 4 years ago

Text

under the amber light

an enemies-to-lovers (kind of) where mc finds herself working in a darkroom along with harry, who she has never gotten along with. 35mm film, watermelon slices, and a lot of dim amber lighting.

pairing: harry x reader words: 12.5 k rated: M

an: hello ! i am back w another little something. i hope everyone enjoys, and im sorry if i got any technical things wrong i havent stepped foot in a darkroom in like 3 years, but yeah ! let me know your feelings and thoughts, enjoy !💘 ***

A breathless ‘hello’ accompanied by a smile as you opened the front door, waving as heads turned towards you.

“Sorry we’re late,” you grinned as Margot pulled you in for a quick hug. You had to work a bit later than usual, Aiden meeting you after your shift ended, both heading to your shared place to change and have a few drinks before heading over to Margot’s. “Work was busy today.”

“Don’t worry about it,” beaming at you, you could tell she’s already had quite a few drinks herself. “People are just getting here now.”

She and her roommates had decided to throw a little party, using the excuse of exams being over for nearly everyone. Her place was usually designated as the ‘party house’ as they had the whole house, not having to deal with irritated landlords, and the neighbours never seemed to mind. Their place was also a bit bigger, even having a little porch to sit out on and a small backyard space.

After waving hello to a few more of your friends that sat on the couches, both Aiden and you headed over to Margot’s room to leave your jackets and bags.

Hearing your name being called from the kitchen as you carried the beers that you had brought over caught your attention. “Hey!”

The familiar voice of Margot’s partner carried through the kitchen, opening your arms wide as you accepted his hug. “Haven’t seen you in a while.” Aleks seemed to have also had more drinks than you, eyelids a bit heavy as he grinned down at you.

“Busy couple of weeks,” you hummed, small frown on your lips as you recalled the final weeks of the semester. You were lucky to only have one exam this semester, but the numerous final papers and assignments were just as bad.

Placing the beers you had brought into the fridge after grabbing one for yourself, you paused for a second when you noticed the fridge magnet bottle opener was not at its usual place.

Glancing across the kitchen at Harry, who’s only acknowledgement of you was a brief glance in your direction when Aleks had called your name. Noticing he had the bottle opener in question, you pulled your attention back to Aleks. “You all done for the term?”

“Yeah,” Aleks sighed, taking a sip of his own drink. “Not as heavy course load this term so I was done fairly early. What about you? Harry mentioned you guys were in the same art history class; I heard the final was pretty tough.”

Glancing over at Harry, you saw his attention was also pulled to Aleks at the mention of his name. His eyes paused on you for a beat, before moving past you to place the magnetic bottle opener back on the fridge.

You knew Harry was the in the same class as you, but there had been very little interaction. In fact, there has been very little interaction between the two of you in general in the months that you had known each other. He was a good friend of Aleks’, and had been quickly integrated into your friend group after Margot started dating Aleks, but you had yet to have any kind of real conversation with him. Quite frankly, you had no idea why Harry seemed to have such distaste for you. His attitude towards you had giving you a bad impression of him, but you had remained polite as ever. Although after nearly four months, it was starting to get irritating.

Grabbing the bottle opener from the fridge, you popped open your own beer before answering Aleks’ question as Harry gave no indication of butting in.

“’M all done as well yeah,” you mused over the stressful weeks that had passed. “I only had one exam, for that art history class. Prof was pretty tough, but she was good. I liked the class a lot.”

You could feel Harry’s eyes burning into the side of your face as you spoke about your shared class, but you refused to look at him.

“Sounds like you had a better time in that class than Harry,” your friend turned to Harry once again, teasingly swatting at his arm.

You only hummed at his words, taking a big gulp of your beer so you wouldn’t have to speak. You could hear friends in the other room laughing loudly, wanting to go join them rather than stand in the kitchen with someone who wanted nothing to do with you.

“You’re here for the summer, aren’t you? Margot mentioned you guys might head out for a little road trip.” Aleks directed his question to you once again.

“Yeah! That’ll be really good. Otherwise I don’t have any big plans. I’m not taking any summer courses, just working. I also started some part time work at a photo lab, developing some film.”

“You started working at a darkroom?”

Both you and Aleks turned to Harry as he spoke for the first time since you’d joined them in the kitchen. He was still leaning back on the counter, eyes narrowed on you. You met his gaze, holding it for a second before slowly nodding.

“Yeah…” muttering, you shot him another glance before focusing your attention back on Aleks. “I’m going to go say hey to everyone else, I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

Taking your chance to leave the kitchen and to head to where nearly everyone sat in the living room, you quickly turned the corner to go catch up with everyone else. It’s not that you didn’t enjoy Aleks’ company, you just wanted a chance to talk to everyone, and quite frankly you weren’t really in the mood to deal with Harry’s broodiness towards you. You didn’t understand it, to be honest. You’d seen him chatty and animated with nearly everyone else, leaving you to think he had some kind of problem with you personally.

Sliding in on the couch next to Margot and some other friends, easily joining in their conversation as you finished off the beer in your hand. The drink was soon replaced, as Margot bounced off to make the two of you some cocktails with whatever liquor she had in her kitchen.

Soon, you had caught up with your friends and were feeling the perfect amount of tipsy. You were resting your head on Aiden’s legs, as you sat on the floor in front of where he sat on the couch, as you both listened to Margot’s animated story about something that had happened during one of her finals.

Someone had grabbed the AUX, deciding to play some Dolly Parton, and you weren’t complaining at the choice. Aiden was playing with your hair, and you felt so content, so at peace. That peace was quickly interrupted, as Margot was tugging at your hand to pull you outside for a smoke.

“How are you,” she hummed, once the two of you were alone sitting across from each other on the porch steps.

“Good,” nodding, as you finally felt relieved from the stressful couple of weeks. “Happy to be done. This summer should be really good as well, everyone’s sticking around. What about you, how are you?”

Margot nodded at your words, smirk playing at her lips. “I’m good, yeah. Aleks wants me to go home with him for a week, meet his family.”

“Really,” drawing out the word, tapping her leg with your foot as you grinned at her. They hadn’t been going out that long, but you knew she was feeling good about their relationship. “You gonna go?”

“I think so,” she nodded, putting out her cigarette as she seemed to think it over. “I really want to. Bit nervous though.”

“They’ll love you,” you reassured. “I know Aleks does.”

“Yeah he does, doesn’t he,” she giggled, scooting over on the step you were sitting on to move closer to you, wrapping an arm you.

“How are things with that guy, what’s his name,” she spoke up after a moment, as you tapped the ash off your own cigarette.

“Nate?” Scoffing as she asked about the last guy you had a small fling with. “Haven’t really talked to him. Honestly he was a bit of a dick, didn’t really get along with him.”

“Yeah you mentioned that,” Margot hummed, resting her head on your shoulder. “Deserve someone better. Maybe you’ll meet someone at the photo lab you’re starting at.”

“Maybe,” you mused, trying not to romanticize the idea of meeting someone cute at your new summer job.

The door clicking open pulled your attention, as you watched Aiden come outside. “I’m heading over to Will’s.”

“You’re leaving?” Both Margot and you spoke the same thing at the same time, as Aiden wrapped his arms around the two of you for a tight hug.

“I’ll see you soon,” he grinned as he made his way down the steps. “You’re okay to get home?”

“Think I’m gonna crash here, I’ll be good.” Aiden nodded as you confirmed you would be okay. “Have fun!”

***

“I’ll grab you a shirt,” Margot mumbled, riffling through her drawers.

Nearly everyone had left, and you were ready to lie down. Both of you had had a little too much to drink having the alcohol eventually making you tired, especially after your long day at work.

Aleks of course got the spot in Margot’s bed, so you were taking one of the couches, having already grabbed a mountain of blankets for yourself.

She passed you a big teeshirt, recognizing it as one she had found at a thrift store with you. “Harry’s crashing here too.”

“What?” Your voice dropped to a whisper-shout, in case someone outside her room could hear. “Where’s he sleeping?”

“On the other couch,” she shrugged. They had two couches in the living room, one much smaller than the other. You sighed, knowing you would inevitably be the one taking the shorter couch.

“That okay?”

“’Course,” you muttered. “It’s your house. Plus Harry’s the one that has a problem, not me.”

Margot rolled her eyes, changing into her pyjamas. “Harry doesn’t hate you,” she knew very well about your issues with him.

“He totally does!” Keeping your voice at a whisper in case the sound carried past the closed door.

“No one hates you.” Margot grinned at you, sitting next to you on her bed as you riffled through your bag. “I told you, he’s just like that with people he doesn’t know.”

“Known him nearly four months,” you mumbled under your breath.

“Well,” she paused. “He’s a sweet guy, I promise.”

Dropping the subject, you made your way over to the washroom and tried your best at taking off your makeup, borrowing a bit of Margot’s moisturizer so your skin wouldn’t freak out on you.

Realizing that everyone had left except for those spending the night, you bid your goodnight to Margot and Aleks before bringing your things to the living room. You were surprised to see Harry already there, distracted by whatever he was doing on his phone.

He glanced up as you dropped some blankets on the couch, eyes holding yours for barely a second. You suddenly felt self-conscious, his ever-intense gaze dropping to your bare legs for a second.

“I can take the small couch,” you mumbled, grabbing hold of a blanket for your makeshift bed.

“Right,” Harry coughed, placing his phone on the coffee table in front of him.

He watched you unfold the blankets, laying them down on the couch. You silently passed him some of the blankets you had gathered, noticing he only had one.

You also couldn’t help but notice he had also changed, wearing a pair of black joggers you could only assume he had borrowed from Aleks. His chest was bare, and you found yourself annoyed with how good he looked like that, forcing yourself not to try and make out newly exposed tattoos.

“Sorry,” he suddenly blurted, breaking the crisp silence as you both made your beds on the couches. “I know this is your usual sleeping spot.”

His words slurred slightly, but his expression was just as unreadable as ever. It was the most he’d said to you all night.

“S’no problem,” you offered him a small smile as your eyes met his. He caught you slightly off guard when he didn’t look away like he usually did. Holding your gaze for a second longer than he should have, you felt the beginning of a flush across your cheeks. His gaze was so intense on you, so nearly hot.

Still, he failed to return your smile, or any other sense of comradery towards you. Once again self-conscious under his stare, you were the one to look away. Muttering a small ‘night’ to him, you slid through the pile of blankets you had created for yourself.

If he had returned the bid goodnight, you hadn’t heard it.

Fine. Quietly huffing to yourself, rolling over on the couch with your legs having to lay a bit folded. You were grateful for how tired you were, not having to think too much about the fact that this situation otherwise would’ve made you nervous.

***

As with any new job, you still felt a bit anxious as you came in for work, even if it had been nearly two weeks of working. As you pulled open the door, smiling at the woman behind the counter at the photo lab.

“Hi!” She greeted you immediately. “How are you?”

“Good thanks,” returning her smile as you moved past the door that separated the customer waiting area, to the behind the counter. “How about you? Busy today?”

“Not too bad, yeah. Mostly pickups. Some rolls back there for you to start on.”

“Perfect,” you smiled at her again, before opening the door that you knew led to the back. You were still a bit nervous, even after a couple shifts. You knew that you knew your way around a darkroom, but it was more daunting when you were working with paying customers photos, and not just your own.

Eyes scanning the room, trying to recall everything you had been told in training. Soon everything slipped your mind, as your eyes fell on a familiar face.

Mouth gaping slightly as if you were to speak, Harry met your gaze. Did he work here too? Why hadn’t you known that. You recalled that night at Margot’s a couple days ago, when you were talking about starting a new job at a darkroom. Why hadn’t he said anything?

“Hi,” you finally spoke, placing your bag on the table.

He was standing across the room, seeming to be mix solvents in the beginning stages of developing his film. He was looking at you from over his shoulder, dressed casually with a bandana pushed through his hair.

“Hi,” he mirrored, briefly looking down to what he was doing before fully turning to face you. “You started working here?”

Nodding slowly, expression matching his. “Yeah,” you smiled a bit, though he didn’t return it. “Just working in the back.” You pointed to the door that led to the darkroom.

He simply nodded, turning away from you again as he reached for something next to him. “These need to be printed.” He passed you a plastic cover filled with film strips, taking a step towards you.

“Right,” nodding, deciding if he wasn’t going to be decently nice you didn’t have to be either.

“You know how everything works, right?” The question irritated you, but your tried not to let it show. Of course you knew how everything worked, you had been hired here.

“Yeah,” was all you said, before opening up the door that brought you into a dark room, faced with another door. Once in the actual darkroom, you felt the wall for where you knew sat the switch for the dim amber lights.

Immediately getting to work, starting with preparing your separate baths filled with solvents. It was when you were pulling sheets of photo paper that you heard the door click open, eyes focusing to see Harry having joined you.

“Forgot to give you this,” he said quickly, sounding almost out of breath. Narrowing your eyes as you grabbed the sheet from his hands, squinting in the dim light to read the words written on the top of the page.

You felt irritated again. It was the basic information sheet on what settings to leave the enlarger at, and how many seconds you should expose for. “Just in case.”

He was practically smirking.

“Thanks.” Voice clipped; you knew it wasn’t best to be a bit moody with him but it wasn’t like he was your boss. You placed the sheet next to you on the counter, waiting for Harry to leave. He only nodded once more, before slipping out the door.

You got back to work, having fake arguments in your head with Harry after he left you bothered. How was it that you had never seen him here before? There wasn’t much of a set schedule per se, so it was completely possible that the two of you had missed each other like this, but it still took you by surprise.

It was nice that you could work more or less by yourself, since at your other job you were constantly dealing with customers and never had a shift alone unless it was a morning shift. Obviously working at the same place as Harry wasn’t going to be a big problem, it was just the way he acted towards you that bugged you.

***

Weeks had gone since you first saw Harry at the studio. It had gotten a bit better; he wasn’t so much being cold with you as he was getting on your nerves. Instead of being passive and ignoring you, he had progressed to badgering you, clearly noticing it bothered you. That was at least, when he was talking to you.

He made sure to double check that the images you were exposing came through correctly, saying things like ‘just have to make sure everything’s good’, and ‘they all should be similar, don’t want any inconsistencies’.

It was irritating to say the least. He never really talked about you about anything outside of work, even though technically he was in your friend group, and that irritated you even more. Neither of you had actually seen each other outside of work, something that usually happened at Margot’s or Aleks’ house.

One of your coworkers, Shane, was shocked when he said Harry had mentioned that the two of you knew each other outside of work.

“Would think that he’s never known to talk to you a day in his life.” Shane had commented with a laugh.

Margot, and even Aleks, had heard all about it, only ever really assuring you that ‘he doesn’t hate you’ and ‘he’s never said a bad thing about you’.

That being said, at least he wasn’t avoiding you like the plague anymore.

“Are you just finishing up?”

Harry had come into the darkroom to gather up some photographs, stacking them in a neat pile before slipping them into an envelope. The two of you were the only one’s left for the evening, the shop closed to the public.

“Yeah, just cleaning up now.”

Just making out his nod in the amber light, he paused before speaking again. “D’you need a ride home?”

That took you by surprise. The two of you hadn’t closed up just the two of you before, but you would have never though he’d ben offering to give you a drive home.

“You don’t have to –”

“It’s no trouble,” he interrupted, reaching for the handle to leave the room.

“I – yeah thank you.”

Nodding at your confirmation, he stepped out of the dark room leaving you to finish up packing everything for the day.

You found Harry sitting in the back room, preoccupied by his phone as he waited for you. “Ready?” He stood suddenly, slipping his phone in his jeans pocket as you reached through your bag for some lip balm.

Following him through the front door, waiting as he locked up before leading you over to where he had parked down the street. Sliding into the passenger seat of his car, the first few minutes of your ride in silence expect for your directions to your place.

“You make other art outside of film. Right?” Harry suddenly spoke, drawing your attention to him as his eyes remained on the road.

“Yeah,” pausing for a second, “I mean, it is my major.”

That caused him to glance at you with a laugh. “I know. I’ve just never seen any of it is all.”

“Never asked.”

“Right,” he said quietly, before clearing his throat and giving you another glance. “Well consider this me asking.”

You bit back a smile. “Next time.”

Nodding with a breathy laugh, just as you recognized the beginning of your street outside. “Here’s fine,” you turned to him, not needing him to go all the way into the winding residential area.

“I can go right to your door,” he turned on his right turn single. “Through here?”

“Yeah,” you directed him through the neighbourhood until he pulled in on the side of the road.

Grabbing for your bag at your feet, digging in it until you reached your keys. “You going to Margot’s on Friday?” Harry pulled your attention back to him.

“Of course,” you smiled slightly, hand on the door as you readied to leave. He nodded, eyes remaining on you as you went to step out of the car. “Thanks for the ride, I’ll see you then?”

“See you then,” he confirmed with a perk in his lips, just as you turned around and shut the door behind you.

***

“Don’t know what to wear,” Margot was muttering to herself as she surveyed the clothes she had just grabbed from her closet.

You had your own outfit crisis at home before coming over to Margot’s, coming over early for once. Aiden was still at work, and you had the day off so you and Margot had spent the afternoon together before everyone would be coming over later on in the night.

“I like that,” you hummed, pointing to the shirt she had just thrown aside.

“I guess,” she mumbled, looking at her outfit in her mirror. “Not really the vibe though, is it?”

Giggling at her words, you rolled over on her bed to fully face her. “And what is the vibe?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed, going back to her closet. “You’re wearing a dress.” Glancing down at your own red sundress at her words, you laughed. Summer was well on its way by now, and you were a sucker for a good sundress. “Plus,” Margot continued as she changed her shirt once again. “I’m mad at Aleks.”

“What’d he do?”

She sighed, sitting down next to you on her bed. “I’m not really mad at him; we got into a little fight and I just wanna look good and ignore him for a bit.”

Humourless laugh leaving her lips, she rose again and took another look at her outfit. “I like this, think I’m happy with it.”

Heading over to the kitchen, you guys took out the big bottle of margarita mix and tequila, deciding to have a nice cocktail outside as the sun set, before everyone else arrived.

“How’s work going?” Margot asked, once the margs were made and the two of you sat outside in the slowly cooling air.

“Work is the same,” you hummed licking salt from your lips. “Nothing really new.”

“What about the new place, with Harry? He said you were doing really good.”

Now that was a surprise to you.

“He did? The jobs good, but honestly working with Harry…” trailing off, you wanted to be delicate with your wording. “He’s still acting like a bit of a pain. Not as much as before but, I dunno…” trailing your finger over the salted rim of the glass, you thought it over. “Like I’ve said, he just doesn’t like me.”

“He likes you fine,” Margot hummed, small laugh in her voice

“Oh well,” muttering into your glass, “finish up your marg.”

Soon, both of you were a couple drinks in and more people had started arriving at Margot’s. The back door was open, spending most of your time outside before the sun fully set just to savour the last bits of the summer night.

You don’t know how much time has gone by, nor how many drinks you’d had, but soon you were slouched on the couch next to your friends, happy grin on your lips. That grin didn’t last long however, as your eyes scanned the room and landed on a familiar face.

“Fuck,” sliding even closer to Margot and Aiden. “That’s Nate.” Pointing with your head to where he stood by the hallway.

Margot lifted her head, not so subtly glancing to the direction you were motioning. “That’s him? He knows Aleks I think.”

“Oh,” you muttered, shooting the guy you didn’t want to see another glance. It wasn’t that things were bad with the two of you, but you had decided you didn’t want to ever see him again.

“I didn’t realize he was coming,” Margot shot you a sympathetic smile.

“It’s okay,” you nodded, cozying up with the two of them and deciding to keep him out of your mind. “Just won’t talk to him.”

You had managed to stick to that, never even interacting with him the majority of the night. It wasn’t until you had stepped out on the front porch for a breather and a smoke, that you suddenly found yourself along with Nate who had apparently followed you out.

Leaning your back against the wooden railing behind you, offering him a small smile and nothing else. “Didn’t know you would be here.” He was the first to speak.

“It’s my friends place,” you hummed, tapping out your cigarette.

“Missed you these past couple of weeks,” his words made you glance at him, only for a second.

“Nate,” you sighed, putting out your smoke. “I told you –”

He cut you off. “I know what you told me. Like I said, I just miss you. You here with anyone?”

“No,” you breathed out, not knowing why you couldn’t just lie to him.

“Why don’t you come home with me?” He bumped his knee with yours, as you still didn’t look over at him.

“Not in the mood,” you muttered, resting your head back against the beam behind you.

“I can get you in the mood,” he shuffled closer to you, as you tightened your arms around your chest.

“Fuck off Nate,” muttering as you finally glared up at him.

Calling your name, he didn’t stop in his pursuit. “Come on –”

“Think she told you to fuck off, mate.”

Both of you turned your heads to the voice coming from the door, seeing Harry standing in the frame, arms folded across his chest.

Christ. You didn’t have the energy to deal with Harry as well, even if in this moment he was helping you out.

As annoyed as you were over the testosterone swirling around you like leaves in the wind, Nate took a step away. He slid away from the two of you with a ‘whatever’ muttered underneath his breath.

Blowing out a sigh, you sank down to sit on the wooden step, extending your legs out in front of you. You could practically hear Harry hesitating behind you, before he finally made his way to you and tentatively sat down.

“Thanks,” your voice was quiet as you finally spoke, face forward as you kept your eyes focused on your sock covered feet that you knocked together.

“He’s a dick,” his voice was soft, in fact you think that was the softest you’d ever heard it.

“Yeah,” humourless laugh leaving your lips as you nodded. “He is.” You were annoyed with yourself of how you had let Nate ruin your evening.

Finally facing Harry, you found his eyes already on you. “Do you like margaritas?”

***

You knew your way around Margot’s kitchen well, spending enough time at her place to call it your second home.

“Not going to blend them, hope that’s okay.” You shot Harry a glance as you grabbed an ice cube tray from the freezer. “Don’t wanna leave dishes.”

“’s no problem at all,” he spoke quietly, almost cautiously. You nodded, not measuring as you poured tequila in each cup.

“Lime?” Grabbing a knife from the drawer, cutting a lime into quarters.

“Please,” he nodded, watching as you squeezed the juice into the glasses. You brought one cup to your lips, taking a quick taste of your cocktail. Hearing a breathy chuckle from Harry as you added a splash more tequila, you handed him a cup.

“Cheers,” the corners of your lips perking up to a small smile as you clinked glasses with him. He returned the sentiment, each taking a big sip of your drinks.

“It’s good,” he smirked, tongue darting out to lick the liquor off his lips.

You hummed in agreement, taking another sip of the cocktail. Wordlessly moving past Harry, you opened the fridge next to him and searched around for the fruit you knew sat somewhere in the back.

Fingers gripping the cold ceramic bowl, you shut the door with your hip. “You want some?”

Handful of berries in your own hand, you tilted the bowl in Harry’s direction. He seemed to hesitate again, eyes flicking between your own and the bowl of raspberries pointed at him. “I – yeah, thank you.”

“I love raspberries,” you hummed, placing the bowl between the two of you on the counter before grabbing another handful.

Harry couldn’t help the small smile that pulled on his lips as he watched you enjoyed the red fruit. Just as he was trying to think up something, anything, to say to you, Margot and Aleks crashed through the kitchen.

“There you are!” Margot exclaimed, swinging one arm around you as she grabbed some raspberries herself. “Was looking for you, are you having fun?”

“Yes,” you smiled at your friend, taking another sip of your drink. “Just making some more cocktails.” Passing Margot your cup, offering a sip to which she refused.

Aleks had caught Harry in conversation, neither of them seeing as Margot wordlessly glanced between you and Harry, eyebrows furrowing at you quizzically, as if asking you what was going on. You simply shrugged, mouthing ‘I don’t know’ before you drank more of your margarita.

She nodded, your silent conversation coming to an end.

The four of you soon pulled out of the kitchen, joining the remaining party-goers in the living room. You had had 2 more margaritas, eventually settling into a corner of the couch as you were slowly letting yourself relax, even in the excited atmosphere.

The night progressed as it usually did, a few remaining as late hours of the night rolled in. Aleks had out on some movie he wanted to share with everyone, and at that point you knew if you stayed for any longer you would completely fall asleep.

Jumping up to grab your jacket, hovering on top of Margot from where she sat. “I’m heading out,” you mumbled, arms wrapping her in a hug. “I’ll see you soon! We’ll have that beach day.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay here?”

Shaking your head, you reached for your bag sitting on her floor. “I have work tomorrow pretty early, and I’m already going to be a bit hungover.”

The two of you headed to her front door as she walked you out, as you bid goodnight to the few remaining friends on your way. “You okay to walk home?”

“Yes, of course.” Waving off her concern, although grateful she always checked with you before you leave her house. You were a bit drunker than you’d like to be for the walk home, but it was a fairly short walk.

“Okay well text me when you get home,” she slurred, pulling you in for another hug once you reached the front door.

“Are you leaving?” Aleks, followed by Harry, appeared behind Margot as you broke apart.

Nodding as you bid him goodnight as well, voice being interrupted by your own yawn.

“I can walk with you.”

Harry’s voice pipped up from behind Aleks, head turning to him to see him slipping on his jacket. “I –” about to refuse, but realizing he properly had to walk home as well, “– yeah that’d be good.”

Soon you were both walking side by side in the empty street as it was well into the night, the cool air not too much of a bother after the drinks you’d had.

“Where’s Aiden?” Harry’s voice broke the silence after a good five minutes.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “He left the party a while ago, he usually goes over to his ex’s.” He only nodded, remaining silent for another short moment.

“You don’t have to walk all the way with me,” you suddenly spoke, turning to look at him. “If it’s out of your way.”

He turned to you, light smile on his face. “It’s no problem, really.”

“Where’s your place?”

“Couple blocks past yours. Like an extra fifteen minute walk or so.” Nodding at his words, about to ask how he knew how far away from your place he lived, before remembering he had given you a ride home a couple days ago.

“You don’t have to walk all the way if its easier –”

“It’s no problem at all!” He stressed with a light laugh, interrupting you as he knew what you were going to say. “Plus,” he smirked, “it’ll give me some piece of mind knowing you got home safe.”

Heat building in your cheeks at his words, suddenly unsure of what to say. Your relationship with him thus far had only been practically nonexistent. Choosing not to say anything, a silence fell over the pair of you once more.

“Never showed me any of your work,” Harry suddenly spoke up again.

“What?” Alcohol and exhaust clouding your brain, taking a second to understand what he was talking about.

“Last time, you mentioned you’d show me your work outside of film.”

Right. “Oh yeah,” words were a breath from your lips. “Well, next time. Promise.” You don’t know why you always felt a bit weird when someone asked you to show them what you did. It wasn’t like you shared some publicly, but when someone asked you personally it made you hesitate.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he nodded, as you realized you had made to the end of your street.

Harry still next to you, as you dug through your bag until you held you keys in your hand. Once again hesitating, unsure of why you felt so unsure. “Well,” you coughed, looking up at him. “Thank you.”

“Really no problem,” he hummed, and you realized you didn’t know how to say goodnight to him. Suddenly in your overthinking, you found yourself wrapping your arms around him to pull him in for a hug.

He seemed just as surprised by your action, though quickly softening up to you and wrapped an arm around your back. “Night,” he was warm against you, the feeling of being in his arms had found to be quite comforting in fact.

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat as you pulled away. “Night.”

***

The following weekend, it was a miraculous day where nearly everyone had the day off. Everyone had met at the beach, enjoying a full day in the sun.

“You coming?” Margot’s voice pulled you out of your daydreams, turning over to where she stood above you.

“What?”

“We’re gonna try and play some volleyball. Key word is try.”

Giggling at her words, you shook your head. “No, I’m good for now. Honestly I might end up napping for a bit.”

“We’re just over there if you want to join!” You watched as she headed in the same direction she pointed, a bit down the beach where nets had been set up.

Once alone you reached for your back, immediately realizing you had forgotten to bring your book with you. Maybe a nap really was in the stars.

Already having applied enough sunscreen for the time being, you settled yourself on your back and placed your hat just over your eyes.

The quiet moment didn’t last long, however, as soon someone was standing over you, blocking the sun.

Reaching up to move the hat from your face, your eyes readjusting to the light to see Harry standing over you. “Can I join?”

“Up to you,” you hummed. You could just make out the faintest hints of a smirk at your passive answer. Hearing him readjust the beach towel next to you, as he claimed that spot.

Peeking an eye open, you saw as his head rested in his arms, tilting dangerously close to the exposed skin of your waist. He was resting on his front, facing you as his eyes peered up towards you. “Y’not playing volleyball?”

“Don’t feel like it,” muttering, you readjusted yourself slightly. “Why don’t you go play?”

“Don’t feel like it,” he mirrored.

You only hummed in response, moving your head to face the sky once again. Silence falling between the two of you as you tried to focus on the sound of the waves, and not on Harry laying next to you.

The silence didn’t last long however, as Harry shifted closer to you. “Why’re you ignoring me?”

You nearly snorted at his comment, propping yourself up on your elbow to gaze down at him. “I’m not ignoring you Harry. Just trying to relax.”

He let out a breath, turning his head to rest his cheek on his arm, facing you. You dropped your head back down on your towel, not without feeling his breath tickle your skin.

Your body betrayed you, just as you felt goosebumps rise on your skin.

Harry seemed to notice as well, and soon his breath wasn’t the only thing tickling you. Bringing a finger up to the skin of your tummy, he lightly traced his fingertip over the bumps rising over your abdomen.

Muscles tensing at his sudden touch, you moved your own hand down to your stomach and peeked an eye open to see him. His cheek remained on his forearm, hair falling around him on the towel.

“What are you…” you trailed off, honestly not being bothered by his touch. It was light, fingertips smoothing over your exposed skin.

“Jus’ relaxing, love.” The pet name slipped from between his lips, your body flushing even more at the way he said it so effortlessly.

“This okay?” he spoke again, quieter as you relaxed back onto the towel.

Humming in approval, you willed yourself to seem unbothered. His fingertips moved along your stomach, tracing mindless circles into the skin as his palm rested flat. It was nice, the light tickling and trailing on your skin, he was right to say it was relaxing.

You don’t know how long the two of your rested like that. Not many words were shared, both resting in a peaceful silence. You had slightly dozed off, never fully falling asleep as you were always aware of where Harry’s hand was on you.

At one point he wrapped his hand nearly completely around you, staying like that as he dozed off himself. You realized that he was basically cuddled around you, his head having shifted closer with his forehead resting on the skin over your ribs.

“Skin’s getting warm,” after a moment, you don’t really know how long, Harry’s voice pulled you out of your sleep. Sliding his arm off of you and lifted himself to rest on his elbows. “Y’should put on more sunscreen.”

Rising to a seated position, you crossed your legs as you glanced over at him. All you could do was nod dumbly at Harry’s comment, reaching out for your bag to grab the sunscreen that you had packed.

As you rubbed the sun block down your shins, you watched as Harry turned over to sit up as well and pulled out a couple containers that seemed to be filled with fruit.

“Brought snacks?”

“Just some fruits,” he shrugged, pushing his sunglasses off the bridge of his nose and onto the top of his head.

Just as you were repositioning the hat on your head, and digging through your mess of a tote back for your own sunglasses, you gasped as you felt something cold and wet on your thigh.

Glancing down, you saw a big slice of watermelon sitting on your leg.

“Heard you liked watermelon,” he shrugged again, and you looked at him just as he took and obscenely big bite of his own slice of fruit.

“Love fruits,” you murmured, as you picked the fruit up from where it sat on your leg. You were grateful to be wearing sunglasses now, as you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of him as he ate his piece of watermelon.

“Y’got,” his voice broke the silence once again, pulling your attention back to him. Eyes wide as you watched his hand reach forward towards you, thumb swiping over your thigh. Collecting the watermelon juice that had trickled down your leg, sticking the digit past his lips.

“Sweet,” he hummed, lips perking into a smirk as he reached for another piece of fruit.

“You’re a pest,” shaking your head, with a giggle in your voice.

Watching as he reached across for his bag again, flashing you a mock pout. “Not very nice of you, love.” Turning away from you for a beat, facing you again with his 35mm.

“Stay still,” he murmured after bringing the camera to his eye, lens pointed towards you.

“Hey!” covering your face with the slice of watermelon in your hand, bringing your other hand down to readjust your bikini top that had slid down a bit.

“Stay still!’ He repeated, swatting his hand in your direction, fingertips brushing over your arm as he wordlessly told you to move it down.

Moving your arm, hovering the half-eaten slice of fruit next to your face, you complied to his request and stayed still while he took a picture of you.

Eyes lingering on you after he placed the camera aside with a smirk still playing at his lips with a gleam in his eyes. “What?” Giggling almost nervously as you shifted under his stare.

Sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, he paused before looking forward towards the water. “Nice day out, is all.”

He didn’t say anything more, leaning back on one arm as he finished off the rest of the fruit in hand. You watched him for another beat, eyes trialing from his face to the muscles that flexed under the skin of his arm.

Not immediately adverting your eyes you squinted a bit as you took in every detail of the tattoos covering his skin. You couldn’t help but wonder about them, so many for someone still reasonably young.

Just as you wondered if he had any particular reason for all of them, warm hands landed on your shoulder and a new body hovered over you.

“Hey,” a breathless Aiden reached over you to pluck a slice of watermelon from where they sat. “As it turns out, I do not like volleyball. Want to come to the water with me? I need a little cool off.”

Harry’s gaze met yours again for less than a second, before glancing up at where Aiden sat kneeling behind you. “I’m good, I can stay back and watch our stuff.”

Being pulled up to your feet, you left your hat and sunglasses in a pile on your towel before sauntering off with Aiden in the direction of where the water hit the land. Shooting another brief look behind you to see Harry’s eyes on you again. Sending a smile his way as you tugged up the thin straps of your bottoms that rested at your hips, just as Aiden pulled at your wrist as he skipped towards the water.

“Feels nice,” Aiden hummed, once both of you were ankle deep in the cold water. The sun was shinning hot today, only a barely there breeze present to cool you down. Aiden was right, soaking in the water doing wonders for your bodily temperature.

Taking the plunge, literally, as the two of you submerging yourselves under water as you played around. Once the water was leaving goosebumps on your skin you guys wandered around the shore, picking up odd rocks as if you were birds looking for something flashy.

“He’s always staring at you,” Aiden bumped his arm with yours, nodding his head towards where the group sat after abandoning the volleyball game.

“Who?”

“Harry,” mindlessly looking up from the rocks by your feet, squinting in the sun. “You guys seem much more amicable.”

“Yeah,” nodding as you thought over his words. “Working with him has been good lately. He’s like, kind of intense, but in a hot way y’know?”

Aiden laughed at your description. “I think he’s into you. Probably has been into you this entire time.”

Scoffing at his words, you glanced at your friend. “I don’t know about that.” Your words were a lie, having thought about the possibility a couple times but you didn’t want to overthink it.

“Don’t be dense.” Aiden laughed, suddenly bending over to pick up a rock and holding it in front you. “Here, this one reminds me of Margot.”

***

No one was in the dark room when you got there, working alone as you worked though a roll for a customer. Moving your paper into the developer, you nearly forgot about them as pictures drying off caught your attention.

They were obviously Harry’s and not one of a client, as you recognized nearly everyone photographed. Your gaze moved over every image, quickly moving your own roll over to the stop bath, before looking back at Harry’s pictures.

There were a few from that day at the beach, times when you hadn’t even realized Harry had the camera pointed at anyone. You saw yourself in some of them, laughing away with Margot as the sun set behind the pair of you, distant shots of you and Aiden sticking out of the water.

They were beautifully candid, the evidence of Harry’s visual eye very clear in all the images.

The picture of you with the watermelon he had snapped was probably one of the best pictures someone had taken of you in years. You looked relaxed, small smile playing at your lips as you looked down at the lens, the sun glowing on half of your face.

Small gasp at the sound of the door opening behind you, spinning around to barely make out Harry’s frame. “Scared me,” you murmured, letting out a sigh as you moved back to your solvents and moved your paper to the fixing solvent.

“Didn’t realize anyone was here,” his voice carried through the room as he walked in, standing by where you just admiring his work.

“Thought I’d get a start on those,” you hummed, pointed to where you still had film to expose. “Those are really great,” you saw his head turn to you as you complimented his work he had just started gathering up. “Didn’t realize you’d been taking so many pictures.”

“Thanks,” just making out the shine in his eyes, he flipped through them before shuffling over to you. “Did you see this one?”

Squinting, you saw him holding up the image of you with the watermelon. “I did. Really like it.”

“It’s my favourite,” Harry nodded, glancing down at it.

You were happy to be standing in a literal dark room, as you felt a flush rise up your neck. It was a compliment to his photography skills really, but it was also a compliment to you. A silence overtook the room, and you suddenly felt so incredibly nervous for very little reason.

“Why did you hate me?”

What the hell was that. Blurting things out wasn’t really your style as you were fairly good at keeping a tight filter on the words that left your mouth, except maybe after a couple drinks. But in this moment, for some reason, you truly needed to know why Harry had seemed to resent you so much when you first met.

His head turned back to yours in a quick motion, nearly unable to see it in the dim amber light. His mouth opened, as if to speak, but no words came out.

“I mean –” you sighed, glancing away from him as embarrassment trickled through your skin. “You just seemed not very… fond of me.”

“I never hated you,” his words were laced with a sigh, shoulders dropping a bit as he turned his body to face yours. His face glowed the soft orange from the room that surrounded you. “You should move your papers out of the fix bath.”

“What?” You blinked as if broken out of a daze.

“The fix bath, it’s been a couple minutes.”

“Fuck,” muttering as you spun around, grabbing your abandoned tongs and moved the paper into the water for its wash. Watching your image float around for a second, prodding it gently with the tongs.

“I never hated you,” Harry repeated from next to you, making you turn to him once again as you dropped the tongs on the counter. “I was just – I guess I was intimidated? Not really the right word but,”

He trailed off, showing no sign of continuing as you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth. “Why?”

The beginnings of a smile grew on his lips at your lighter tone. “I guess… I don’t know. Saw you around campus a lot, I guess I froze up.”

“Froze up?” Questioning him again and not fully understanding his explanation.

“I mean,” he paused again, averting his gaze as he fiddled with a ring around his finger, “yeah something like that.”

You could only nod, still not fully understanding what he was trying to communicate.

“Plus,” he added, seemingly to recover form his uncertain composure with a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “Like getting a rise out of you.”

“Clearly,” you laughed, matching his smile. “Seem to be pretty good at it, too.”

He didn’t say anything, letting your words hang around the two of you for a bit too long. He wasn’t avoiding your eyes anymore, and you were once again grateful for being in a dark room so he couldn’t see the warmth that spread over your skin.

“Well,” you finally spoke again, voice suddenly quiet. “I have more film to get to.”

“Right,” Harry nodded as he stepped away from you, grabbing his images he had left on the counter. “I should go. I’ll see you soon.”

Watching as he gathered everything he had come for, bidding his goodbye to you and reaching for the doorknob.

“See you, Harry.”

***

“Did you do a test strip for these?”

“Yeah,” you called over your shoulder, moving your images into their third and final solvent.

“And they turned out well?” His voice grew louder, causing you to spin around to face him. “Because the setting on the enlarger is really not what it should be.”

“Harry –”

“They’re not gonna come out, you’re going to have to redo them. How many have you done like this now?” Even under the barely there light you could make out the hard expression on his face.

“I know what I’m doing. I did a bunch of trials with my own film and paper that are ready right over there.”

Letting out an irritated breath as you turned around, gripping a corner of the photo that was currently floating in its bath.

“Look,” you held up the wet photo paper with the tongs. Harry took a step closer, eyes narrowing on the image you held up. “They’re exactly what they should be.”

He was silent for a bit, you could hear his agitated exhales puff out next you. Leaning in to the image, you heard a small ‘fuck’ leave his lips.

“Don’t let this go to your head,” he muttered eyes flicking between yours and the image.

“Already has. Harry we’ve been through this. You need to trust me, I know what I’m doing.” Narrowing your eyes at him slightly, as is if challenging him.

“You can’t just go around changing everything, there’s a process.”

“Yeah and I followed it. And they turned out really well, so don’t give me shit.”

He took a pause, eyeing you down. Pushing hair off his forehead, he placed his hand on the counter next to you. “You’re unbelievable.”

You didn’t know if he meant it in a good way or bad way.

His eyes on you were as intent as ever, burning right through your own; his face an unreadable as ever.

“Fuckin’ unbelievable.”

Lips pressed to yours in a fast kiss. Both the shock of the action and his body knocking yours as his hand came to cup your face caused you to step back, hitting the edge of the counter.

As quickly as it happened it was over, your eyes remaining wide open on him. His gaze was dropped down to the small space between the two of you, breath leaving his lips in small puffs.

“I – fuck – that’s not how I wanted that to happen,” his eyes lifted to yours, hand still holding the side of your face as his thumb stroked your cheek.

The feeling of his lips lingered on yours. “I couldn’t help myself,” his voice dropped, eyes glazing over your lips again.

Tongue quickly licking your lips, tentatively you lifted your own hands up, trailing your fingertips lightly over the fabric of his shirt, gripping the neckline. “You wanted to kiss me?”

His shoulders dropped slightly, smile pulled at his lips, as he visibly swallowed before speaking. “I – always.”

His words sent a rush through your body, wanting to feel him on you again. “Want to again?”

Harry didn’t waste a second, hand sliding to the back of your head. His other hand lifted to the small of your back, pushing your body closer to his. His kiss was a bit more tentative, pulling you gently against him.

Growing in confidence as you tugged on the fabric of his shirt, his mouth sliding open over yours and he pulled you in for more. Lips slotting open on yours as he pulled you in for more, and more.

A sigh being pulled from the back of your throat catches in his mouth as his fingers gripped tightly into the loose fabric of your dress. Your own hand wrapping around his shoulders, moving to pull at the hair that hung at the nape of his neck.

Greedily licking into your mouth as if he would die without the taste of you. Back arching as you pushed yourself against him, hips knocking with his.

Lips parting away with a ‘Christ’ grunted from Harry, uneven breaths swirling together. Dark eyes burning into your own, you felt a hand drop from your hip down your thigh, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

His lips met the skin of your jaw, hand on the back of your head tugging at your hair to tilt your head back, exposing your neck to him. His lips dipped down, a trail of wet kisses along your skin, teeth nipping at the skin that elicited a pitched gasp to leave your parted lips.

His body kept yours pinned against the counter, fingertips tickling the bare skin on your thigh as your own weaved through his hair. Your name tumbling from his lips as you pushed your hips against his. “What’re you doing to me, love.”

Fingertips easing down his shirt covered chest, pushing at him the slightest bit until his lips broke away from your skin. “We should,” your voice was so nearly breathless, “finish up here.”

Hand moving from his shoulder as you weakly motioned to the room around you, remembering you were both technically on the clock. “Yeah,” Harry blew out a sigh, his forehead resting on your shoulder momentarily. “We should.”

Taking a small step away from you as his eyes landed on your, hands moving to brush over your bare arms until his fingertips fiddled with yours. “You’re done working for the day, right?”

“I could be.”

Lips kinked into a smirk. “Do you,” Harry paused, interlocking your fingers as his hands continued to fidget with your own. “Come home with me? Promise just for dinner, a drink, whatever you want.”

Biting back a smile, you thought over his words. “Plus,” he added. “Got a killer view of the sunset.”

You couldn’t help the grin that broke out on your face. “Won me over.”

The two of you finished off cleaning up the room quickly, properly emptying out baths of solvent, putting away all photopaper and making sure everything was turned off.

The front of the shop had already been seen to, only needing to punch in the code and lock the door before you were walking over to where Harry had parked down the street.

His arm had bumped yours as you left the shop, just before his fingers brushed over your hand to grab hold of it.

Once seated in the passenger seat of his car, he passed you his phone letting you have free reign over the music. The drive was quick, you were soon walking up steps in an apartment building you had passed countless times.

“Do you have a roommate?” Realizing he had never seemed to mention anything about his living situation.

“No,” Harry unlocked his door as you followed close behind. “Kind of lucky I guess, I was able to find this place.”

Nodding, very familiar with the joys of having the house to yourself. Following Harry as he kicked off his shoes, walking through his studio. You loved seeing inside people’s places, how they arranged their things, what they had lying around. It was also nice to see that the place had actually feel to it, seeming like he didn’t just have a mattress on the floor.

Standing in his kitchen, you watched as he placed his things on the counter by the door. Curiously glancing at the space around you, loving to snoop on the banality of the way other people lived.

“So, where’s this killer view?” Being on the fourth flour of the building, you didn’t doubt the view was nice, not having that luxury at your own place.

“Patience, darling.” He grinned at you from across the kitchen. “First, you want anything to drink? I’ve got water, tea…” he trailed off, brows furrowing as he seemed to have run out of things to offer you.

“Tea’s good,” you laughed, watching as he nodded and grabbed his kettle to fill with water. “Where’s your washroom?”

“Just around the corner,” he pointed, as you headed in that direction. Taking extra time to observe his things in the washroom, forever curious about how other people lived and taking it as a good sign seeing his washroom clean and fairly organized.

You were soon sitting on a on a little bench that he had out on a tiny balcony, tea in hand as you sat side by side. He was right, the sun was just setting and it lit up the sky with an orange glow.

As per Harry’s request, you had finally shown him some pictures of your art off your phone. You had blushed under his compliments, leaving your phone by your side as conversation died between the two of you and you both enjoyed the view. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you to rest against his chest.

It wasn’t long until Harry’s lips were on your skin once again. Starting with small kisses on you’re your shoulder, his head dipping down behind you. Innocent at first, you didn’t move in your position. Craning his head until his mouth met your neck, tongue darting out between parted lips.

You didn’t move until his teeth nipped the skin, eliciting a jolt from you in shock. Moving his head from the crook of your neck, hand coming up to your cheek, single finger pushing your head around to face him.

His mouth met yours, hesitant at first as he let you adjust yourself slightly so you wouldn’t have your neck twisted. His arm around you pulled you in closer, as your brought one leg up on the bench next to you so that you could press your chest against his.

Your own hands came up around his neck as your mouth opened with his, kissing him deeper and deeper while the sun set behind you. He held you tightly against him as if you’d slip away from him if he didn’t, as he selfishly pulled unrelenting kisses from you.

Moving his hand from your cheek to your waist, fingertips trailing over your dress until they were on your bare thigh, palm smoothing over your skin. Shivering at his touch, you shifted yourself even closer to him as you accepted the warmth coming off of him, as if he was replacing the setting sun.

Lips parting with a pant, heavy eyes darting from his swollen lips, his tousled hair to meet his own dazed gaze. Watching his eyes drop to the small space between you, to the fabric of the dress that he was fiddling with in one hand.

“Always wearing these little dresses,” he muttered, eyes narrowing on where the fabric rode up to expose more of your leg. His hand on your thigh pushing under the skirt, fingertips gripping tightly on your skin.

Lips nearing your ear, nipping at the spot under the lobe. “Always teasing me.”

Feeble whimper at his words, as he payed close attention to your neck, memorizing which spots made your gasp against him and retaining the subtle hint of your perfume to memory.

All while his hand smoothed over the outside of your thigh, pushing your dress up as he went over your hip. Fingers spreading over the extent of your hips, lightly pinching the skin of your ass. You felt them move over the band of your underwear, toying with the thin material.

“Let me,” he muttered against your skin, voice nearly incoherent. “Le’ me – can I? Please.”

“Yes,” the word was a whine, quick and rushed from your mouth. And his hand dipped down over your underwear and between your thighs. You jolt against him, fingers easily finding and pressing over your clothed clit.

“Fuck me, you’re wet.” His hand palmed over your center, pressing against you in a way that made you press your lips tightly together, head dipping down to the crook of his neck.

A single finger pushed your underwear aside, pushing through your folds. “Soaked through,” humming appreciatively, circling around your wetness.

A whimper against him had him wanting to hear more, other hand moving around your hips as you ground down over his hand.

Suddenly pulling his hand away, you lifted your head up to gaze up at him. Mouth gaping open as you wanted to whine, not a single sound coming out when you watched him slip his fingers past his lips, humming around them tasting you.

“Sweet,” he muttered, wet hand gripping your thigh once again as he trapped your lips in for a kiss. “Hop on my thigh,” he spoke into your mouth, posing it as a question but it was more of a demand.

“Wha’?”

He moved a hand to his own jean covered leg, patting it twice. “Wan’ you to get off on m’thigh.”

Blinking at his words, you found yourself nodding and readjusted with both legs now on the bench, a leg on either side of his thigh. You’d never gotten off this way before, especially not sitting outside on a balcony while the world quieted around you.

“Tha’s it, finally listening to me,” he hummed, hands reaching under your dress to grip your hips firmly. Your own hands wrapped around his neck, gripping onto his hair.

Pressing your heat onto his leg, grinding and rolling onto him. Gasping as you moved back and forth over him, fingers tight in his hair and chest every so often pressing into his. He kept encouraging you, watching every movement and motion you were making on top of him.

“Is it good?” He mumbled, lips sucking between his teeth as he kept his eyes narrowed on the way your hips moved on top of him.

“Yes,” you sighed, finding that sweet spot that sent sparks trough your legs. “’M gonna get your thigh all wet.”

“Good,” fingertips digging into your skin, “want you to.”

Lips stuck between your teeth as you tried to stay quiet, small whimpers building through your throat while he aided you on top of him. “Go a bit’ rougher love, that’s it.”

Grinding tightly on top of him, rough fabric pulling at you in ways you thought it couldn’t. He dipped back down to your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin as he whispered hot words of encouragements.

Winding yourself up as you got off, shivering as he moaned your name into your skin and begged you to cum. Messily rolling your hips as he sucked hotly on a particular spot under your jaw, tension in your stomach building and building until you couldn’t keep your lips tight together anymore.

“Cum f’me, wan’ you to,” Harry grunted into the air when he pulled away from you, eyes focused on the way your eyes shut and teeth pulled at your lip.

“Look so pretty right now, with the sky glowing behind you – fuck, wish I had my camera.”

A string of nearly incomprehensible words urging you on, wanting nothing more than to see you come undone on top of him.

“Harry! Feels so good I’m –”

His mouth met yours as you chased your high, hot open mouth catching your whines in a messy kiss. “Go on,” he spurred, “gimme a good one.”

Tugging at his hair tightly as you found your orgasm, thighs squeezing his as your mouth dropped open. Shuddering against him as your limbs numbed at the intensity, pushing your chest on his with a sharp arch in your back.

You hang off him as your try to even your breathing, his lips finding the top of your head with a series of chaste kisses. “Did so good,” he praises.

Lifting your head after a moment, kissing a line from his cheek to his mouth. Shakily moving a leg to the wooden floor, lifting yourself off of Harry and onto your feet. “You got a bed?”

“Fuckin’ – follow me.” Harry scrambled up behind you, shutting the glass doors that led to the balcony to keep out the flying bugs and the cool night air. He led you through the studio, watching with heavy eyelids as you undid the small buttons that went from the top to the bottom on the front of your dress.

Kneeling on the mattress in front of him, you watched as he tugged his shirt over his head, standing at the foot of the bed in front of you. Immediately reaching a hand to his bare chest, fingertips lightly trancing over the tattoos on his skin until they reached the band of his jeans.

He visibly swallowed as you narrowed your eyes on your fingers, tugging his belt loose and reaching for the zipper.

“Darling,” his voice was clipped, watching your every move. Pulling his jeans past his hips along with his briefs, head tilting further down as your hand wrapped around his length.

He was hard, seemingly painfully so. Especially after your lips pressed to his skin with wandering hands, and especially after you got off on him with his name falling from your lips. Your grasp light, thumb moving over his tip to collect the drops of precum between your fingers, smoothing your palm around him. Inhaling sharply through his teeth, with a tight lipped ‘fuck’ being muttered under his breath.

“’s pretty,” you silently wondered how far back he’d reach in your mouth.

He leaned into your touch, teeth worrying over his bottom lip with a quick exhale. “I – I’m already worked up,” his voice was deep, pulling your attention to his face.

He slowly blinked, shaky breath as you let go of your grasp around his cock. His own hands came down sliding around your back, helping you out of your flimsy bralette. “Let’s get you out of this.”

Eyes falling over your newly exposed skin, as you shifted further back on the bed. He came down on top of you in a blink of an eye, tongue licking into your mouth deeply as you eased you down under him.

His hands were everywhere, cradling your head, massaging your breasts, digging into to your thigh. You accepted him on top of you, feeling his length laying heavy on your thigh as he rutted against you. Lips moving down, seemingly also wanting to lick and suck on every inch of your skin.

“How do you want to –” you didn’t finish your sentence, as Harry’s fingers tugged down your thin underwear, last piece of clothing tossed aside.

“Could have you any way love,” he quickly spoke, propping himself up on an arm to lift himself a bit. “Want you under me though. Want you close.”

Whining at his words, wordlessly begging him to hurry. He suddenly leaned over you, arm reaching aside as he dug through the drawer next to the bed. In a moment he was up on his knees, rolling a condom down his length, and the next he was back on top of you.

“Want you deep,” moaning into his mouth as you felt his cock rest heavy against your thigh, legs spreading as you hooked a leg around his waist.

Shifting his hips, he rubbed himself through your folds, collecting your wetness on his cock. Lips parting as he pushed himself in with a grunt, slowly easing his way in with a pressured stretch.

“Bleedin’ – y’feel amazing,” his voice was quick, eyes squeezed shut as you wrapped around him. “Good?”

“Yes,” you whined, pushing your hips up to meet his. “S’full.”

One hand wrapping under your knee to pull your leg up higher, lips pressed in quick kisses from the corner of your mouth down to your jaw. He slowly moved his hips, pushing deeply into you. Your own hands were tight around him, palms digging into the skin of his back.

He continued with languid thrusts, slow but tough. “S’ this good? You want more?”

“Please,” you whimpered, back arching and head pushing into the pillows as you ached for more. Your hands were wound in his hair, fingertips scratching into his scalp.

“Who would’ve thought,” a smirk lined his lips, though his voice was strained as he started a slow pace thrusting into you. “Suddenly listening to every word I say.”

“Fuck,” you couldn’t conjure up any kind of remark, as he finally pushed into you with force, one hand gripping tightly onto your hip, his fingertips sure to leave marks on your skin.

He was everywhere: his lips on your shoulder, hand flat around your hip, and he was deep.

Keeping a somewhat steady pace, lifting himself slightly over you when he dipped his head down and watched where the two of you connected. “S’pretty cunt,” he moaned, head hovering over yours before his lips slotted over yours in a sloppy kiss.

He pressed inside of you in every right way, the feeling of your second orgasm of the night already building. Tugging at his skin with one hand as you pushed yourself against him, other hand reaching to grip his hand that was currently massaging your chest.

Pulling his hand up, his pace faltered a bit as you pushed his thumb into your mouth. Lips enclosing around it, tongue licking and sucking on the digit. He watched you, eyes narrowed on your mouth.

Releasing it with a breath, his eyes flicked between his hand and your face. Understanding your intention, arm quickly snaking in the space between the two of you until his thumb was on your clit.

“Harry,” you shuddered under him, the sensation in the put of your stomach built. Clenching around him, his lips moved to your neck again with a grunt. “Love m’name on your lips.”

Shifting your hips again, widening your legs around him as you felt him even deeper. The overwhelming sensation of Harry filling all of your senses. “Can’t – please tell me your close, darling.”

“So close,” whimpering under him, “please.” You don’t know what you were begging for, you just needed something, anything.

Fingers gripping you tight as his thumb pressed onto your clit, thrusts getting sloppier but hitting just right inside of you. You had your own hands weaved around his neck, nails digging into his skin as you pushed you head back into the pillow.

“Harry,” you reached you peak, thighs squeezing him tight and chest pushing into his as your back arched. “Tha’s it,” he moaned your name against your skin, easing you through your orgasm. Grip on him tight as you bit your lip so hard you were sure it could bleed, you writhed under his grasp as the high died down.

“I can’t – so good,” his voice was nearly incomprehensible, lips muffled and words nonsensical. Clenching around him, he couldn’t hold back anymore after the way you came around him. He gripped you tightly with a couple final thrusts, calling your name and for god as he came into the condom.

“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, remaining pressed on top of you as he tried to regain his breath. Your hand moving through his hair, pushing it off his forehead as he kissed you once more before lifting himself off of you.

You stayed still, already feeling a colder without his body heat over top of you. Rolling your head to face with him with a grin, he returned the smile before quickly rising to a seated position on the mattress.

Getting up and going to discard of the condom, he suddenly disappeared from your view completely. “Where –”

Before you could ask, he reappeared with his 35mm in hand, coming over to kneel above you. “Stay still,” he mumbled as you moved to prop yourself up on your elbow, taking a moment to process what he was doing. “’S just your face I promise.”

Nodding with a breathless laugh, pushing one hand over your hair knowing that you surely didn’t look your best.

“Told you to stay still,” he hummed, as you gazed up at him. Inched the lens closer to you, hearing the click of the film a second later as he took a picture.

“Bet I look completely fucked out.”

“You do look completely fucked out.” He laughed, placing his camera next to you as he moved back to sit on the bed.

“Almost done with this roll, want to get this developed as soon as possible.”

#i ... don't know how i feel about this ... feels weird ? i dont know #feels rushed #but i hope everyone enjoys and let me know what u think !#rb / like / send it to ur neighbour #!!!!!#harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #utal

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peepeepotter · 4 years ago

Text

Hogwarts: New Girl AU

A/N: Warning, some canonical changes were made for plot reasons, the biggest being: Harry and Ginny never dated; Harry, Neville, and Draco are all professors; George has a new WWW store in Hogsmeade. Also, she starts off living with the four guys whereas in New Girl she only lived with all four for about a season. I just thought it would be fun!! Also, when I wrote this it felt a lot longer than it ended up being—so let me know if this is too long or too short or just right!! P.S.: I do NOT condone transphobia (I’m LGBT and will defend trans people until the day I die) and obviously I feel JKR is a shitty person, I write because I like writing and we’ll all agree that 5 year old Daniel Radcliffe wrote the HP series :)

Chapter 1: Who’s That Girl?

Pairing: George x Female Reader

Warnings: Cursing

Words: 3k

Series Masterlist

“So, you know in horror movies when the girls are like "Oh my god, there's something in the basement. Let me just run down there in my underwear and see what's going on in the dark", and you're like "What is your problem? Call the aurors!", and she's like "Okay" but it's too late because she's already getting avada kedavra’d. Well, my story's kind of like that.” y/n said, remembering the borderline traumatic moment that happened two weeks ago.

Y/N sat in the back of a muggle taxi, on her way to her shared apartment with her boyfriend Cormac McLaggen. Only, incredibly uncomfortably, she was completely naked under a trench coat.

“It’s a surprise for Cormac. I’m just gonna walk in and drop my coat, like BAM. There it all is. He said he has this fantasy that I’m a veela with a heart of gold.” Y/N attempted to whisper into the phone speaker.

“You added the ‘heart of gold’ thing, didn’t you?” Ginny asked, chuckling and knowing full well that McLaggen wasn’t exactly a thoughtful person, and wouldn’t have included that in a sexual fantasy.

“Yeah. I wanted to really get into the character, you know?” Y/N tried to get into the fantasy more, hoping it would make her less uncomfortable.

“Oh really? What’s your veela name?”

“Uh...Fleur?”

“That ones taken, Y/N.”

“Whatever, I don’t need a veela name.”

“Either way, I’m so proud of you for getting out of your comfort zone! Good luck babe.” Ginny encouraged.

As Y/N walked into the apartment, she was trying to position herself sexily in the living room. She laid on her side on the couch. Too cliché. She propped herself on the back of the couch. Too masculine. Eventually Cormac entered the living room from the bedroom wearing only his boxers, making Y/N panic about the fantasy.

“Y/N! You’re back early! I wasn’t expecting you—“

Y/N dropped the trench coat. Immediately after a girl, Pansy Parkinson she recognized, followed McLaggen out of the bedroom. Their bedroom. And she was only wearing her underwear.

“Oh.”

“So that’s what happened and why I really need a new place to live. Anyway...what was the question?” Y/N smiled at the four men in front of her. They all looked traumatized by her story.

“Um, do you have any pets?” George asked.

“Oh, no I don’t. Sorry,” She chuckled awkwardly.

“You know what’s funny? When I saw your ad on DumbledoresList I thought you were women.” Y/N laughed. “Crazy, right?”

“Hold up, why would you think that?” Draco spoke before the other two could.

“Just some of the vocabulary used. Like sun-soaked and exposed brick daydream.”

“Draco you wrote exposed brick daydream? Oh my god,” George was nearly in tears with laughter, Harry and Neville following quickly. “Jar, right now, dude.”

“Yeah, jar, seriously. Five galleons.” Harry agreed, pointing to a jar on the mantle of he fireplace with a neon green post-it note labeled “Prick Jar.”

Draco rolled his eyes, getting up and putting the galleons in the jar.

Y/N coughed, trying to refocus the attention. “Look, I really like this apartment. I also really don’t want to live with my friend anymore. She’s a quidditch player...all her friends and roommates are quidditch players. They get into some real weird shit.” Y/N felt like she was pleading with them. Just let me stay here!

“Look I still don’t feel like we know enough—” George was interrupted by Draco.

“Oh, quidditch players? When can you move in?” Y/N grinned, hoping the promise of these three men meeting hot quidditch players would help.

“No, no, loft meeting. Bathroom.” Harry ordered, leading the way down the long hall to the bathroom at the end. When Y/N heard the door shut she quickly and silently followed, eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Come ON guys, she’s friends with quidditch players. Next to veela’s and the girls at Beauxbaton, that’s like the hottest girls in existence.” Draco begged the other two.

“The fact that you’re a professor now and you said that is like...incredibly disturbing.” Harry glared at Draco, George and Neville shaking their heads.

“Yeah, and my sister is a quidditch player so I don’t know about that.” George shuddered.

“I’m not going to lie to you guys, I don’t want a girl living here. Sometimes, I get home from a long day of teaching and I just want to strip and lay on the couch. Let the boys chill.” Harry casually shared. Y/N gagged at the thought, but the other three men in the bathroom made noises of agreement, or at least understandment of his statement.

“I am...actually neutral on this one.” Neville shrugged, causing Draco to scoff.

“You would be neutral on this.” Draco rolled his eyes, but directed his attention toward their fourth roommate. “Alright George, tie-breaker. It’s up to you. Is she in or out?”

“You guys know I don’t do well under pressure like this. Just give me a minute let me think.”

Both Harry and Draco started arguing with each other, putting George under more pressure to make a decision. He slowly backed himself into the stall in the bathroom and locked it. Neville watched everything play out, arms crossed with a smile on his face.

“Oh, now look what you’ve done!” Draco said, gesturing to the hiding George.

“What I’ve done! You started it—” Harry replied.

“Whatever, executive decision—she’s in.” Draco announced.

“YAY! I’m in!” Y/N exclaimed, not able to contain her excitement on the other side of the bathroom door. Draco opened the bathroom door.

“Nobody decided putting a silencing charm on the door would be a good idea?” Harry asked the boys in the bathroom.

“Oh you guys have a stall and urinals? Like a public bathroom? Okay, yeah I guess I can get used to that.” Y/N said, looking around the bathroom that reminded her a little too much of the bathrooms at Hogwarts.

“What do you do for a living anyway? Why do you want to live out here in Hogsmeade?” Draco asked as the group of five made their way back to the living room.

“I just became a professor at Hogwarts! I spent a really long time in both the muggle world and the magical world studying creatures. So, I’m taking over for Hagrid.” Y/N smiled, very excited to be doing her two favorite things in the world: working with animals, and teaching bright young minds.

“Oh, Harry, Neville and I are professors at Hogwarts too. I teach potions, Neville teaches herbology, and Harry teaches...Harry what fucking subject do you teach?” Draco crooked an eyebrow at Harry, purposely acting like he didn’t know what Harry taught.

“Defense against the dark arts.” Harry glared at Draco. “And George here just opened a new Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes shop in Hogsmeade.” Harry said, clapping George’s back. George sheepishly smiled at Y/N.

“Oh that’s awesome! I loved pranks at Ilvermorny. Cormac hated pranks.” Y/N started to tear up, staring off into space.

“George gets it, he was dumped, too.” Draco took his turn to clap his hand on George’s back this time.

“Yeah. Dumped,” George scoffed.

“George I just can’t do this anymore!” Angelina pleaded with George as he covered his ears, despite only the one really working.

“LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU! WE CAN’T BREAK UP IF I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” George yelled.

“Yeah, I was dumped.” George shrugged. “What about it? It was like eight months ago Draco! Move past it. Pfft, dumped.” George got very heated over...seemingly very little, Y/N noticed.

“Ignore him, he’s still fragile. Which, you aren’t too fragile, right?” Draco asked.

“Pfft. I’m so tough. Don’t even worry about it.”

“We’ll always have Paris. We didn’t have, we, we lost it until you came to Casablanca. We got it back last night. … And you never will. But I’ve got a job to do, too. Where I’m going, you can’t follow. What I’ve got to do, you can’t be any part of.” Y/N was screaming the words of the monologue from Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca at the television, the four men staring at her from the kitchen.

“Feel like we’ve made a mistake yet?” Harry asked Draco, who rolled his eyes and approached Y/N.

“Y/N, stop.” Draco turned the television off. “C’mon, you can’t be like this! You’re a strong woman! Strong women don’t cry over men who clearly didn’t deserve them in the first place! Strong women go out and hook up with strangers in the bar in Hogsmeade to get over their ain’t-shit exes.” Draco pulled Y/N up from off the couch. “Go take a shower. We’re going to the Three Broomsticks tonight and you’re hooking up with someone.” Draco pushed her in the direction of the bathroom.

“And that gentleman is how you take care of a crying woman. Not that any of you know how to handle women at all.” Draco snipped at the three men, who—to be fair—did not know how to deal with women at all.

At the Three Broomsticks, the four men watched Y/N absolutely fail at flirting with any even remotely viable man in the bar. Eventually Draco called her back over to the booth where the four men drank and talked about their days.

“Honey, you’ve got to stop doing whatever it is you were doing out there. In fact, you’re going to stop doing anything. You are going to go sit at the bar and look pretty until a man approaches you, and then you are going to smile and nod and agree to go out with him.” Draco nagged. The three other men were chuckling quietly as Y/N trudged to the bar, hoping for men to approach her.

“Anyway, what is this shit we’re chaperoning on Friday night?” Draco turned to Neville and Harry, hoping one of the two would know.

“I think it’s a school dance but like...not fun for the kids at all. Like I don’t think there’s actually any dancing at all.” Harry summed, confused as well. None of them had ever been to muggle high school, and did not understand what a “homecoming” dance was. The Muggle Studies professor suggested it might be fun for the first Friday back to school, and McGonagall agreed as long as the kids didn’t have too much contact on the dance floor. The Muggle Studies teacher explained to the three men that it was “middle school rules, no touching below the shoulders, room for Merlin in the middle.” if dancing were to be allowed. Neville, Harry, and Draco were clueless as to what that meant.

“Glad I won’t be in on that shit show.” George laughed, taking a sip of his drink.

“We actually signed you up.” Draco said nonchalantly, drinking his beer. George spat his beer out violently.

“Excuse me? I have to spend my Friday night watching a bunch of kids...do what? Drink butterbeer and sit on opposite ends of a room?!” George was clearly pissed off, wanting to have done literally anything else with his Friday night.

“I mean, you’ll see your brother.” Harry offered, which actually eased George’s tensions a bit. He smiled, missing his family.

“Oh, alright. Harry, you charmer, you always know how to get me.” George winked at Harry who waved him off.

“How are things going with you and uh...Loony?” Draco asked Neville. The three other men rolled their eyes, annoyed at how Draco still seemed to live in his own little world.

“Luna. And things are going...they’re going.” Neville shrugged, clueless to his own love life.

“Just as expected, he doesn’t know anything.” Draco shook his head at George and Harry, as if Neville’s cluelessness was their fault.

“Are you blaming—” Before Harry could finish accusing Draco of exactly what Draco was doing, Y/N came back from the bar, squealing about getting a date.

“What did you do?” Draco asked, smirking, just knowing he was right.

“I did what you said! I just smiled and nodded and said I wanted to hookup and he gave me his number and now we’re going out Friday night!” Y/N jumped up and down in tiny jumps, starting to fist-pump.

“This American is so weird sometimes.” Harry whispered.

“It’s endearing, I think.” Neville commented.

“Naive, maybe.” George rolled his eyes, the only one who seemed to notice that she blatantly told the man she would have sex with him.

When the night of her date rolled around, the four men found themselves with an unexpected floo guest.

“Ginny, what are you doing—” George stood.

“Who told her it was a good idea to get back out there again? That’s not your job, that’s my job. I’m her best friend, you guys are just some weird adult men living together. No offense brother, dear.” Ginny was in the living room, pointing an accusing finger at the men sat on the couch while Y/N was in her bedroom getting ready. Ginny was clearly ready to go out clubbing for the night, and was dressed in a short dress and very tall heels.

“None taken.” George rolled his eyes, plopping himself back on the couch.

“Now I’m going to go handle the mess you all created, thank you very much.” Ginny glared, walking over to Y/N’s room and walking in.

Y/N laid on the ground surrounded by clothes. Her hair and makeup was clearly done, but she seemed stumped on what to wear. She was currently wearing a witch hat, a crop top, sweatpants, and cowgirl boots.

“Y/N,” Ginny sighed. “What were you going for with this?” Ginny gestured up and down Y/N’s body.

“Witchy space cowgirl.” Y/N shrugged. “It seems like something you’d find in a porn anyway—”

“Here, let’s find you clothes that will actually get you laid.”

After about half an hour, Ginny emerged from Y/N’s room first, dressed in a crop top and sweatpants.

“Now presenting, the new but not improved, still absolutely perfect Y/N.” Ginny gestured towards Y/N’s bedroom, where Y/N emerged. She was wearing the short black sleeveless dress and tall heels Ginny had been wearing when she emerged from the floo. Draco let out a whistle, Harry and Neville started clapping, and George was sat, stunned. Well, until Y/N started fist pumping again, then they all started booing her.

“Don’t let me keep you guys, I know you have plans with a bunch of 11 to 17 year olds tonight.” Y/N giggled, watching as the men stood up at the reminder.

“Don’t worry, we’d rather be anywhere else. Even here watching your weird dancing.” Draco puffed, the other men agreeing.

“So yeah, that’s how we got a new roommate.” George explained to Fred, who’s hazy, ghostly form nodded.

“Believe it or not, I actually know her. I was her first friend here.” Fred grinned, pointing to himself. George wasn’t surprised. Ever since Fred died and became a ghost, Fred frequently felt lonely, and George knew that. Besides Peeves, he really didn’t have many friends. He couldn’t interrupt teachers while they were teaching, but since Care for Magical Creatures was not a required class, Y/N had a lot of free time. They bonded over pranks, baked goods, and George. “She’s so cute! You totally would’ve dated her a decade ago.” Fred teased his younger twin.

“Yeah, well, things change I guess.” George felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, and looked at the caller ID to find it as Madam Puddifoot’s store number. “One second.” He told his brother. “Madam Puddifoot?” George asked.

“George dearie, your friend Y/N here was stood up by her date. I figured someone should know, she’s in my shop crying and I have to close in,” she paused, clearly checking the time. “In a half hour. Do you think you could help?” George stood, already walking towards the school’s exit.

“Oh hello there.” Y/N sniffled, eyes red and puffy as she looked up to see George taking a seat in front of her. “Don’t you have a school dance you’re supposed to be chaperoning.” She furrowed her eyebrows, pointing a finger at him. She meant for it to be accusatory, but with red puffy eyes, George mostly found it (as Neville said) endearing.

“Some things are more important than watching boys and girls stand on opposite ends of a room.” He shrugged, reaching across the table and grabbing his friends hand. “Listen, real men don’t treat women the way you’ve been treated the past few weeks. I’m sorry you’re going through this. If it makes you feel better, sometimes I still call my ex and leave voicemails in a country accent.” George offered, making Y/N giggled, wiping lone tears.

“Well, you can always call me and talk to me in a country accent instead.” She shrugged, in an attempt to help him the way he’s come to help her. “Do you want to go home and watch—”

“Literally anything other than Casablanca, okay? I will watch whatever sad chick flick you want, but you have watched Casablanca like twenty times this week.” George puffed, standing up and reaching his hand out for Y/N. “Let’s go home and get drunk and cry.” He smiled. Y/N grinned, grabbing his hand and letting him walk her out of the shop. She was still embarrassed, but her heart felt a lot better knowing someone came to help her out of this feeling. She’d never admit it to George, but it was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her.

When Draco, Neville, and Harry returned home, their suit jackets thrown over their shoulders and looking rather tired from dealing with teenagers all night, they found quite the sight for their sore eyes. George and Y/N were stood in front of the TV, clearly drunk, singing along to Heath Ledger’s character serenading Julia Stiles character in 10 Things I Hate About You. Draco, Neville, and Harry all looked at each other, shrugging. They dropped their suit coats and joined in, feeding the fire that was drunken George and Y/N.

And that was the end to Y/N’s first week in the loft above the Weasley’s Wizards Wheezes store in Hogsmeade.

Taglist: @yllwtaxi @ememseay

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pascalscenarios · 4 years ago

Text

HOW TO LOVE (Marcus Pike x Reader)

HOW TO LOVE

Marcus Pike x Reader

Summary: After a year being broken up with your ex, you move into a studio appartment just outside of Washington D.C. for a fresh start. You best friend gets your a job at the prestigious art museum he runs, and you have an encounter with someone you recognize.

Warning: None

Words: 3471

Author's Note: Surprise!!! AHH first chapter for How To Love! I’m excited for this one! I hope you guys in enjoy it! Let me know if you want to be on the tag list for this or the on main! Also if you asked and I didn’t put you in, I’m sorry, please remind me!

- K

Chapter 1

“Alright, this was the last one in the truck,” Your father says as he sets the container on the ground next to the others. Your father had helped you pack up and move your belongings from your hometown in Virginia to an apartment complex that was just outside of Washington D.C.

“Thanks, Dad.” You were grateful for his help.

“Do you want me to stay and help you unpack?” He was looking at the large boxes and containers piled on top of each other in the middle of your small studio apartment.

“No, that’s okay. I got it.” You smile slightly.

“You gonna be alright?” He says stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

You sigh, “I think so…” you turn your head to look around your small apartment. “I’m a little nervous, but I needed to do this...you know, move away from town and start fresh.”

“I know you do. If you ever need anything, your mother and I are a call away and a 45-minute drive.” He reassures you.

“Thank you, Dad. I love you.” You walk towards him, hugging him.

Your father wraps his arms around you, planting a kiss on your head. “I love you too. Call me if you need anything, yeah” He says, pulling away from you. You nod at him.

You both walk over to your front door. He opens it, stepping outside.

“Bye, Dad! Drive safe!” You call out as he walks down the steps and onto the walkway. You stand by the second-floor railing, looking down as he walks to his truck. He turns his body, looking up at you, giving you a wave. You watch him get into his truck, he honks, signaling a goodbye as he drives out of the parking lot.

You go back into your apartment shutting the door. You lean back against it, taking everything in. It was your first time truly living alone. You had spent years living with your ex in your hometown. He treated you terribly. You were constantly on-again, off-again with him. He had cheated on you a few times. You tried your hardest to make things work with him.

One day he decided that he was done with you, breaking things off and kicking you out of your shared apartment. You being a grown adult had to move back in with your parents. You spent a year in a tough place mentally, you decided you needed to get out of town and move somewhere else, have a fresh start, a clean slate. You needed more than what your hometown gave you.

Your best friend Elliot lived in D.C. working as a museum director at a prestigious art museum. He had offered you a job at the museum and even helped set you up with an apartment. You were nervous being on your own, but you knew you needed this time to grow as an individual.

You pushed yourself off the door, walking further into the open space. You stand there staring at all the boxes and containers. Your apartment was small. Only livable for two people, but it was perfect, and it was yours.

“Alright, let’s get to it.”

You had spent several hours getting things unpacked and organizing. You had managed to build your bed frame and set up your bed near the long and large windows. You placed your clothes into the narrow closet, set up your toiletries in the bathroom, and put kitchen appliances away. You needed to stock up your cabinets and fridge with food, so you decided to head to the grocery store.

You headed to the store in your pj’s. After your dad left, you had changed into something comfortable. You wore a worn-out Star Wars t-shirt, sweatpants, and your pink bunny slippers. You didn’t care if you rolled up to the grocery store like this. No one knew you and you knew one.

As you enter the grocery store and grab a shopping cart, your phone rings. You set your bag in the child seat, pulling out your phone. You looked at the caller ID, it was Elliot. You pick up the call, placing your phone against your ear, your other hand grabbing a hold of the cart’s handle.

“Hello?” you said, as you maneuver your cart around and in through the aisle.

“Hey! How’s it going? Do you make it to your apartment okay?” Elliot greets you.

“Hi, El…” you smile, “Yeah I did. My dad helped me out. We piled all my crap in the back of his truck. He drove it down, while I drove my car with the rest of my crap in it. I’m grocery shopping right now. The apartment is great by the way! Thank you for everything. Helping me get this apartment and setting me up with a job. I appreciate it. I can’t thank you enough” you say, picking up several Cup Noodles, tossing them into the cart.

“Of course! Don’t worry about it. That piece of shit put you through so much, you deserve to start fresh and to thrive! Maybe in D.C., you’ll find yourself a new guy…”

You scrunch up your face at what he said “Ehhh I don’t know about that…'' You traveled down the aisle picking up different snacks, foods, and drinks off the shelf.

He tries to encourage you, “You’ve been single for a while now. You should try to put yourself out there, meet some people.”

“I don’t know… I just don’t think I’m ready yet. He messed me up pretty bad, Elliot. I’m scared to get back into dating, you know?” you say sadly.

“And you have every right to feel that way, but not everyone is going to be like him. You’ll find the right person for you. It doesn’t hurt to try, but wherever you’re ready, I say go for it. Who knows, maybe you’ll run into someone in the grocery store.”

“Haha very funny, '' you say sarcastically, but you could help but laugh.

“Alright, I gotta run. I just wanted to check up on you. I’ll let you get back into shopping, but just a reminder, you to start work Monday, bright and early at 7:00 AM sharp.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then, love you.”

“I love you too! Bye!”

“Bye” you pull the phone away from your face, hanging up, and placing it back in your bag. You continued to shop. The majority of your cart was filled with your comfort junk foods, a few fruits and vegetables, and canned foods.

You knew the change of living in a new area and apartment was going to be different and a bit of getting used to. You wanted to have your favorite things to bring you some sense of joy and ease...and alcohol. Yes, you need to get a bottle.

You were turning the corner into an aisle with the alcohol when your cart collided with another person's cart that was leaving the aisle.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry!” You gasp at the man in surprise. He was a little bit taller than you. He wore a plain t-shirt, jeans, and shoes. Short brown hair, brown eyes, and he rocked a mustache and beard. You couldn’t lie, the man was handsome.

“It’s alright! I should be apologizing too, I bumped into you as well!” he chuckled. His eyes took notice of your outfit of choice.

Suddenly you felt shy and self-conscious about our outfit. You began to feel insecure that he was somewhat checking you out. I mean you wore PJs to the store, of course, you knew some people would stare and secretly judge you.

His gaze landed at your feet. He cocked his head to the side and smiled “Nice bunny slippers.”

“T-thanks..” you stuttered.

He must have noticed you were growing uncomfortable because he tried to lighten the mood. “I really should get myself a pair, they look comfy…I could see myself rocking some bunny kicks,” he joked.

You nod your head “Well make sure to wear them at home and not at the grocery store... along with your pj’s.. make sure you wear those at home as well because then you’ll end up going to the grocery store looking like a fool...” you mentally cringed. You didn’t mean to say your thoughts out loud. You were making this interaction more awkward than it needs to be. You just wanted to get your bottle of wine and leave.

You grab a hold of your cart, moving it into the space beside him to get into the aisle.

“I don’t think you look like a fool, it's a look. Matter of fact, I would kill to be in some Pj’s and bunny slippers all day. I live in work suits for my job. I hate it.”

“I say start a petition for pajama day at your work.”

He laughs. “I might just do that… I’m Mar-”

“Well, hopefully, that goes well for you. Good luck.” You gave him a small and quickly made your way down the aisle. Your heart was beating against your chest. You had to get out there. You picked up a bottle of red wine off the shelf and put it in the cart. You looked back to see the man, but he was gone.

…

You spent the rest of your weekend setting up and organizing the rest of your apartment. You had a few things left to do like setting up your tv, but other than that your apartment was done.

It was 5:00 AM, Monday morning, you woke up super early to get ready for work. You didn't want to be late. You took a shower, did your hair, and got dressed. You looked out yourself in the bathroom mirror after you finished getting ready. You were dressed professionally. You felt a little silly, but you were going to be working at a fancy art museum. You spent the past year living in pj’s, shirt and shorts. It’s been a while since you had to dress up.

Leaving your bathroom, you walk over to your kitchen grabbing your reusable tumbler cup filled with ice coffee. You head over the door, slipping on your flats, grabbing your keeps and bag off the hook, and heading out to your car.

By the time you made it into the city, it was almost 7. The traffic wasn’t too bad. You managed to find street parking, putting in a bunch of coins into the meter.

Walking up to the building you were in awe. It was a wide building with tall and long glass windows in the front. You walk up to the stairs, opening the glass door. The lobby was a large space There was an information desk a few feet off to the side of the entrance, along with stairs leading upstairs. Benches and few art sculptures on display throughout the room. Bathrooms and elevators are located on the middle far back wall. Exhibits were down the halls on the left and right side of the bathroom and elevators, and upstairs.

Workers and custodians traveled around the room, preparing to open the museum in about an hour.

You hear Elliot call after you. You look up noticing Elliot coming down the stairs.

“El!” You smiled walking towards him.

“Ah! I can’t believe you’re here!” He embraced you into a hug. “I’m so happy you’re here in D.C. with me. We"ll get to hang out all the time now."

You laugh. “I'm excited! Thanks again for getting me a job. I feel kinda bad though. Like technically I skipped the whole interview phase and got the job. Isn’t that kind of abuse to your position?”

“Seriously it’s fine and I’m the Museum Director, I call the shots around here.”

“Elliot…” You say under your breath.

Elliot rolled his eyes, “Come on, you know what you mean. I’m responsible for the operation of the whole place and I know you better than anyone, I trust you.”

You still couldn’t believe Elliot was in charge of this whole museum.

“Come on, I'll give you a tour of Clemonte!”

...

Elliot gave you a tour of the Museum’s exhibits and even behind the scene things that the public doesn’t get to see. The museum had such beautiful pieces of artwork. This place was amazing. You loved it. There was so much more you wanted to see, but you only had enough time to see part of it. Maybe during your free time, you’d look around to discover the rest.

“So, what do you think?”

“Wow, this place is stunning” you stay as you both make it back to the lobby.

“So, how are you feeling?”

“I’m alright. I’m a bit nervous I’m not going to lie.” You pull away.

“Nothing to be nervous about, you’ll be fine.” He reassures you.

“So do I have to call you Mr. Regan, boss man?” you giggled.

“Pff, no one calls me that. I feel so old when people call me that. Everyone just calls me Elliot.”

“So” he claps his hands together. “You’re going to be working at the Visitors Information desk.” He says pointing to the large and round information desk near the stairs.

“El, I just got here I don’t know anything!” Your eyes widen.

“You’ll be fine, and besides you’ll be working with Ms. Laurie, she’s been here for years. She’ll teach you everything you’ll need to know. And don’t worry, we have a list and maps where everything is you can refer to.’’

“Come on” his head points in the direction of the desk.

“Hi, Ms. Laurie!” He smiles brightly at the woman. She looked about to be in her late 60’s.

“Good Morning, Elliot!” she beams.

He introduces you to Laurie. “This is my friend, the one I was telling you about. She’s going to be working with you.”

“Ah yes! Hello dear! It’s lovely to meet you! I’m so glad you’re working with me!” She holds out your hand to take.

You take her hand. “It’s nice to meet you too! I’m excited.”

“Alright well, She’s yours now, Ms. Laurie, let her have it. This is for you,” Elliot hands you your ID badge.

“Where the hell did you get this photo?” You say scrunching your face at this old and outdated photo of you.

“I pulled it off your mom facebook- Also, The FBI are coming it today-”

“My mom’s Facebook- Wait, the FBI? Why what happened?” You furrow your eyebrows.

“The FBI has a specific bureau that deals with international art theft, the Art crime team or they call himself the Art Squad. Sometimes they come in here to do research, sting operations, stuff like that, so don’t worry if you see a bunch of them waltz in here. They come around a lot.”

“Oh..o-okay.”

“Alright, I gotta go, I have a ton of meetings today, but have a good day, love you, if you need anything let me know!” He shouted quickly as he speeds walked off.

“We’re going to be opening in about half an hour, I better get started with teaching you the basics” Laurie announced. “Come dear, you can put your things over here.” She pushes open the short desk door that came up to about your hips, letting your step into the desk area.

Laurie gave you a rundown on the layout of the museum and most frequently asked areas such as where the most popular art exhibits, bathrooms, and the gift shop.

“You got everything?” Laurie asked you.

“I think so. Just a lot of stuff to memorize.” “I know hun, but once you get the hang of it, it’s going to be a breeze! You’ll know it like the back of your hand!” She chuckles. “You’ll get it in no time, if you need any help, I’m here, or you can use the maps and lists we have sprawled all around here.” She motions to the piles of paper around the desk.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Laurie.” You smiled.

…

Once the museum is open, you have a bunch of people come to the visitor's information center asking you questions. Some you were able to answer, others you had to ask Laurie or use the resources you had.

It was noon. Nothing happened, a few people came to stop by, many of the families with young children were leaving, probably headed to see multiple other museums. You noticed a group of men and women walk in. They were all wearing suits. You assumed that it was the FBI agents. They all stood in the middle of the lobby, one man stood in front of the group, giving them instructions.

The group disbanded, pairs of agents headed towards different areas and wings of the museum. You went back to filling out an information form. An Elementary school had called wanting to have a field trip. You filled out the information on the form for the school, and It had to be sent up to Elliot later to get approval.

“Do you happen to know where I can get some bunny slippers?”

“Excuse m-” You quickly lift your head from the form. Standing in front of you was the guy from the grocery store, learning to gain the counter.

He smiles at you. “I see you aren’t wearing pj’s today and no bunny slippers, damn” he joked.

You chuckled slightly. “W-well I’m working. I have to dress professionally. Guess your petition for pj’s fell through, huh?”

“Yeah, no one was down for it, but I still want some bunny slippers. Where’d you get yours?”

“um...Amazon..”

“Alright, I’ll make a mental note...I saw you when I came in. I didn’t know you worked here. How come I’ve never seen you before?” He asked.

“I-I’m new, I just started today actually…” you fiddled with the pencil in your hand. You were growing nervous.

“Well, I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other then…”

You swallowed hard. What was he getting at? “Oh, are we now-” You looked down at his ID badge that was clipped to his outer suit pocket that had the FBI in bold letters.

“Special Agent Pike” you read his name badge.

“Marcus” he held out his hand

You don’t take it. You were nervous. You had no idea what the Marcus guy wanted with you, and you weren’t looking for anything right now. Marcus Pike may seem all cute and harmless, but the next thing you know, he’ll be breaking your heart into two. He was probably trying to play nice to get in your pants.

After everything that happened with your boyfriend, you guarded yourself, bordering your heart with thick walls. You weren’t gonna let just anyone in. You had to protect your heart from things that hurt you in the past. You didn’t want to go through that pain again so it was better to keep walls up. You didn’t want to let anyone new into your life.

He moves his hand to scratch behind his head.

“So you gonna tell me your name?”

“No”

“No?”

“Why should I tell you my name?”

“I don’t know, because that’s what you do when you meet someone you new and you know what to call them by?” he furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“Well, you’re an FBI agent. If you wanna know, use your investigation skills and figure it out.” With that picked up paper, turning around in your hair, and walking over to the fax machine.

Marcus stood there confused. You were being nice, but then switched on a dime? Was it sometimes he said? He didn’t know what happened, but if you weren’t going to tell him, he just had to figure it out.

Out the corner of your eye, you see him walk off to the elevators. You sign in relief.

“I see you were talking to Marcus Pike.” Laurie chimed in coming out from your guy's office. “He’s a really nice guy.”

“Is he really or is that just a front to get into people's pants?” You asked, continuing to stare at him.

Laurie gasped in surprise, “Marcus Pike? No! He's such a sweetheart and very well mannered, ask anyone here, they'll tell you that.”

You sigh, now you felt kinda bad, you switched and judged him too quickly. You had trust issues that you needed to work on. You sign rubbing your face. You might have screwed up.

“I know he may be a little cocky and comes off a bit strong, but he’s a great guy once you get to know him.”

He gets in the elevator turning around. You two lock eyes, but you quickly look away back down to the fax machine.

You look back up noticing the elevator doors have closed.

“We’ll see about you, Agent Pike…”

Main Tag: @icanbeyourjedi @sara-alonso

#the mentalist #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #pike #Pedro Pascal #pedro #pascal

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thebountyfucker · 3 years ago

Text

Three's a Company

18 + ONLY - NSFW

Embo/F!Reader/Bossk

This one has been sitting in my drafts for a while but I got bored so I finished it. Enjoy!

Tags: PiV sex, anal sex, DP, Embo's tongue, use of a vibrator, some violence.

Here's a link to my masterpost

The lights were dim, the music low and sultry. A Zeltron woman danced on a table wearing nothing but a scanty bodysuit. The scent of booze and bar snacks filled the air. This was unlike the Guild Headquarters that you were used to; you had only been once before, and the place was usually aflutter with the conversations of bounty hunters and mercenaries. Now, the place was rather reticent. The hunters and mercs were still around, sure, but their attention was drawn elsewhere. And by elsewhere, it usually meant on a pair of tits or a wayward bulge.

You, yourself, weren’t much of a dancer, but you were something nice to look at. Your job was, quite literally, walk around the place and drum up the sexual hunger. You could take a client or two, but it wasn’t a requirement. Thus far, no one seemed entirely interested. But that didn’t bother you.

You strutted past a table, not paying too much mind to who was there, until you noticed that you were being waved to. You approached, putting on a sultry smile, and leaned against the table. Staring back at you was a Trandoshan man - one of the Guild Leader’s sons, Bossk, if you remembered correctly - and a rather grumpy Kyuzo. Bossk, who had his arm wrapped around the Kyuzo’s shoulder, gave his friend a jostle.

“Are you entertainment?” Bossk asked, his long tongue flicking out to wet his lips. You nodded slowly.

“Sure am. What can I do for ya?” You leaned forward, accentuating your chest with a smirk.

“You see, my buddy here-,”

“We are not friends.” The Kyuzo interrupted.

“-well, it’s his Life Day-,”

“It is not.”

“-and I was looking to help him get laid.”

“I do not need your help getting laid.” He shrugged Bossk’s arm off, much to Bossk’s dismay. The Kyuzo crossed his arms over his chest and slumped in an odd little pout. Bossk rolled his eyes.

“Obviously you do, or you wouldn’t be here! Come on, Em… they weren’t worth it anyways.”

You watched the two interact, entertained. You had not been expecting this when you came over, but if you were telling the truth, this was the highlight of your rather boring night.

“I do not know what stories you are concocting, but there is nothing wrong.” Em tipped his large, circular hat down to cover his face. You sent Bossk a glance, and he shook his head. You eased onto the bench beside the agitated bounty hunter, and rested a hand on his thigh.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. I am fine. I would be better off if I was left alone, though.” He growled lowly, and you retracted your hand.

“I’m sorry…”

“It is not your fault.” He turned to glance at Bossk, who was watching the Zeltron table-dancer disinterestedly.

“I’m sure the bunks are much quieter, if you’re looking for some peace.” You offered Em, and he nodded at this.

“Yes… that would probably be best.”

You scooted off of the bench and moved away, allowing Em the space to leave; you knew it wasn’t any of your business, but you hoped that somehow he’d have a better night. Only, that hope was quickly dashed.

Em moved to stand and exit the booth. The movement caught Bossk’s attention, and he let out a hearty laugh.

“Go get her!” Bossk pulled his hand back, and gave Em a hearty smack to the ass - it was likely meant to be a cordial gesture, akin to those athletes gave to one another. But you watched the way Em’s eyes flickered with rage, and Bossk knew in that moment that he had messed up. He moved away, but wasn’t quick enough to escape the swift kick to the chest. Bossk slammed into the back of the seat, coughing and hissing as he grabbed at his chest. Nearby patrons turned to see what was going on. Em straightened, brushed off his skirt, and waded through the crowded floor toward the bunks. You rushed to Bossk’s side.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Good.” He croaked as he rubbed his chest. You were surprised he wasn’t doubled over in pain. The kick looked like it was intended to cause some damage, maybe in the hopes that this would deter Bossk from bothering Em again. Bossk seemed sufficiently deterred, though, refraining from chasing after his ‘friend’.

“Are you certain?” You pressed a gentle hand to his chest, feeling for any broken ribs. Despite the force of Em’s kick, there seemed to be no broken bones. That was good.

“Yeah. Guess I was pressing his buttons too much.” Bossk muttered.

“How long were you pestering him?”

“... All night.” Bossk admitted, reaching for the glass that was sitting on the table.

“Why?”

“Rumor had it that he was going through some sort of break-up. We need him on his best game, and I was trying to hurry along the healing process.” Bossk shrugged, his voice slowly losing the wheeze that the kick had given him.

“I see… perhaps I could help with that.” You patted Bossk’s leg. “I’ll be back.”

You got up and weaved your way through the crowd, your sights set on the hall leading to the bunks. The Zeltron table-dancer was stepping down, only to be replaced by a Theelin burlesque dancer. The sultry music slowly shifted into something a bit more lively, and the crowd seemed to perk as well. You paid this no mind, though, as you slipped down the hallway.

You stopped at a door labeled 'Embo' and pondered. Bossk had called him Em, but maybe that was just a nickname. At the same time, it was possible that this 'Em' and 'Embo' were different people. It was a big galaxy after all. Deciding to risk it, you knocked and heard a husky 'come in'. You slipped inside.

Em - or Embo, rather- was sitting on the large bed, grumbling and drinking something out of a metal goblet. He hardly glanced up, but acknowledged your presence with a sweep of the hand. You sat on the end of the bed and met his gaze.

"Are you alright?" You asked, taking care to keep your tone soft and cordial. He scoffed.

"I assume Bossk sent you?"

"Yes and no. He told me that you weren't feeling so great but it was my decision to come." You replied, transfixed by the sight of his mouth. Previously hidden by a bronze mask, he sported dozens of wicked, carnivore-esque fangs. Long and sharp, you knew they could do some serious damage. You weren't sure why, but the thought aroused you. You ignored the warmth building in your cunt.

"He is delusional. There is nothing wrong." Embo replied, his golden gaze flicking to yours, noting the sudden, and potentially odd, fixation on his mouth. "You seem to have a staring problem."

You blinked and shook your head, an embarrassed tint marring your face. "I don't mean to. I've just… never seen anything like it."

"Mhm." Was all he said as he took a sip of his drink. A rivulet of the purple booze trickled down his lips, and his long, snake-like tongue flicked out to lick it up. Oh, there was that twinge in your cunt again. "Why are you still here?"

"I came to offer my services." You muttered in response, your mouth cotton-dry. He quirked a browridge, intrigued. "I was hired to take care of the Guild's guests. Of which, you are one. If there are any desires I can fulfill, you only need to speak them."

His gaze trailed down your body, as if he was inspecting a work of art; his gaze lingered on the swell of your breasts, and the curve of your hips… but he didn’t reach for you. He hardly said a word as he set his goblet aside and waved you off dismissively.

“I want nothing from you.” He replied, though his tone betrayed otherwise. You crawled up onto the bed, slowly slinking toward him, your heart pounding in your chest. He didn’t cower from your approach, nor did he move to push you away; rather, he responded with a stubborn glare. He was a tough nut to crack, this one… but you know you’d get to him. No man could resist your charm… or your cunt.

You parted his legs, crawling into the newly freed space and planting yourself in between his legs. You rested your hands on the mattress on either side of his hips, and leaned up to look him in the eyes, mere inches from him. He didn’t falter, his gaze burning deep into your soul. A shiver prickled at your spine, and you fought the urge to move away.

“Don’t play coy, sir.” You whispered, saturating your tone with desire. For him. For what he hid beneath his layers of skirts. For that wicked tongue. Your hungry eyes found his lips, and you pressed even closer. “I know that you desire me. It’s okay to admit it.”

“And if I do not?” Embo hummed, still resisting, yet not pulling away. You faltered for a moment, trying to find the right rebuttal. Certainly, he wanted you. Now, how could you get him to admit it? “Is it so hard for people to leave me alone?”

You broke your act at this, pulling away to give him the space he seemed to long for. You sat back on your butt, watching him, waiting for him to make a move. He nonchalantly reached for his goblet, and thrust it at you.

“Bring me another.”

You looked at the goblet, and then at him. “Uh… yes sir.”

You took it and scuttled out of the room, holding it with all the care in the galaxy. You figured he wouldn’t be too keen on you dropping it or scratching it in any way. You expertly dodged any interlopers as you swept toward the bar. You set the goblet down and pushed it toward the tender, who met your glance.

“Embo?”

“Yessir. Give him whatever he was drinking before.” You rocked on the balls of your feet as you watched the tender pull out a large bottle - it was green with little gold accents, with a wide, circular base and a narrow neck. He poured out the purple liquid, gave it a few swirls, and then handed it back to you.

“Don’t let him drink too much more of this, okay? This stuff is potent.”

You nodded in understanding and hurried off towards Embo’s room, trying to hold the goblet as steady as you could. You knocked, but didn’t wait for an answer, and slipped into the room. In the time you had been gone, Embo had shed his numerous layers and had put on a silk robe. He was leaning on his bed, as he had been before, though now he looked much more content. You wondered if his drink had finally kicked in.

“Here you are, sir.” You handed him the goblet, and bowed your head respectfully. He bowed his head in response, and took a small sip, humming appreciatively. You eased back onto the bed, and he gestured to you.

“Have you ever had zhizhi wine, pet?” He asked. You shook your head.

“No, sir.”

“Open your mouth.”

You did as you were told; he tipped your head back and poured a small stream of wine into your open mouth. The wine was thick - disarmingly so - and tangy, though the sting of alcohol was nowhere to be found. The wine warmed your body as it went down, and though you couldn’t describe why, you yearned for more. You reached for the goblet, and he pulled it away from your grasp.

“That would not be wise, pet.” He told you as he cupped your chin and tilted your head back down. “You humans do not process it the same way we do. Just wait. You will know why I cannot allow it soon enough.”

You thought Embo was talking a load of shit and being a selfish prick, but it wasn’t long before you understood what he was talking about. You could feel the buzz of the alcohol on the edges of your consciousness, despite you only drinking one sip. You let out a snort, then a giggle, before covering your mouth with your hand.

“What the fuck?”

“I did tell you.” Embo hummed as he leaned back, setting the goblet aside; his dusty green skin had flushed a brighter green as the alcohol worked its way through his system. You tried not to stare, but you noticed, through a crack in his robe, that he was not wearing anything underneath. And that it seemed that he was getting excited… You decided that it would be beneficial to try again.

You slipped between his legs, feeling the warmth of his thighs against yours, and reached up to play with the neckline of his robe. His large hand rested on the small of your back in response. You supposed this was good news.

“Sir, I don’t intend to be rude but… you look like you could use some attention.”

“Perhaps I could.”

“Could I… untie your robe?” You asked, your cunt throbbing at the prospect.

“Not until I see you first.” He responded, the hand on your back sliding up until it found the zipper holding your bodysuit closed. He guided the zipper downward until it couldn’t go any further, and you leaned back to give him the right angle to undress you. He peeled the bodysuit off your body, watching with rapt attention at the skin that was slowly exposed to him. You helped him pull it the rest of the way off of you. He tossed it off to the side. His ravenous gaze trailed down your form, taking in every inch of your soft, human skin.

“May I…?” You asked, leaning closer to him; the heat which radiated from him was akin to that of a furnace. Sweat began to bead on your brow. But your interest in what he had underneath his robe far outweighed the temporary discomfort of sweat. Besides, you had a feeling you’d be sweating a lot more soon.

He wrapped his large hand around yours, and directed it to the loose knot which held his robe closed. You swiftly undid the knot, and watched as his robe fell open. His chest was lean but strong, and peppered with scars. But this wasn’t what interested you. No, what interested you was his cock - half-hard and already longer than a human. You reached out to touch it, watching for any indication that he wasn’t interested. He gave you none, and you wrapped your hand around it.

A low, sharp hiss worked its way from his mask as you slowly and surely stroked his cock. His cock hardened in your hand, lengthening even further, and you idly wondered if he’d be able to fit inside you. He threaded a hand in your hair and guided you closer to him.

“Mmm… you are so lovely…” He purred as he leaned down to nuzzle your neck. You stroked him steadily. His hands slid down to the small of your back, pulling you flush against his chest; you straddled his thigh, grinding your cunt against his leg as you stroked him. “Mmm… you are wetting my thigh, little pet. Do you desire more than this?”

“Yes.” You breathed as you reached up to cup his cheeks. You pressed your forehead to his as his hands gripped your hips.

“Do you need preparation?” He inquired, and you glanced down to his cock - there was no way it’d fit without some proper foreplay to loosen you up. You slowly nodded, and he leaned you back onto the mattress. He rusted around in his drawers, and produced a small, thumb-sized vibrator. It buzzed to life, and he drew it around your clit. You hissed.

“I didn’t - I wasn’t aware that you knew of human anatomy!”

“I am well aware of human pleasure-spots.” He chuckled as he rubbed the vibrator along your swelling clit. Sharp sparks of pleasure shot through your body, igniting the fire in your belly. You tensed, and he purred. “Does that feel good, little pet? Hm?”

“Yes…” You whined as he drew the tip of the vibrator up and down along your clit. Your breaths came out as strained gasps as your pussy drooled onto his bed. He let out a hum of appreciation, drawing his finger up and down the glistening seam of your pussy.

“Very wet… let us see how tight you are.”

He pressed a thick finger into your pussy, slipping in to the first knuckle so he could massage the spongey membrane of your g-spot. You squirmed, grabbing fistfuls of his sheets and closing your legs around his hand. “Yes! Yes, just like that!”

He did as you told, continuing to massage your g-spot while drawing a vibrator around your clit. The tension mounted, and the fire in your belly threatened to spill over; your body went stiff, and you threw your head back in anticipation, only for him to turn the vibrator off and remove his finger.

“W-what the hell!?” You snapped, the obscene orgasm you were chasing slowly subsiding. He loomed over you, one hand resting near your head while the other lined up his cock with your yearning cunt. His head pressed through, and you stretched to accommodate it.

“Is this more to your liking?” He asked, his breath rattling through his mask. You nodded, angling your hips to give him better access. He slowly eased in, watching your face for any indication of pain or discomfort. When he found none, he continued to press in until you had completely sheathed his cock. You swore his cock had pressed up under your ribs, though you knew this was not possible. You were so completely impaled by him. You had never felt anything like it.

He gave you ample time to adjust, before slowly easing out of you. The sudden absence of his cock made you whimper, and he shook his head.

“Do not be getting cock-dumb on me now, little pet.” He stroked your hair as he eased back in, his cock hitting every sensitive spot within your yearning cunt. Your head lolled back and your back arched toward him, and he took this as a sign to continue. You both hardly noticed the company at the door.

A loud, rattling hiss filled the air, and you turned to spy Bossk standing in the doorway. Embo growled but didn’t stop. In fact, he went faster, harder, delighting in the way that your tits bounced as he did so.

“What are you doing here?” Embo muttered between thrusts. Bossk was palming himself through his pants, his tongue flicking out to wet his maw.

“Came to see if you were doin’ okay.” Was all he managed as he tentatively approached, watching Embo’s reaction for any adverse reactions. Embo ignored Bossk as he reached up to unlatch his mask; he set it down on the bed within easy reach and leaned down, his tongue snaking out to lap at your nipple. He leaned down to wrap his lips around it, his golden gaze meeting yours. Your entire body shook with a mounting orgasm, and you closed your legs around Embo’s narrow hips.

“D-don’t stop!” You cried as he pulled away to ravish the other nipple. You were faintly aware of the unzipping of a zipper, and turned your head to find the source of the noise. Bossk’s two cocks were mere inches away, hard and yearning. Embo replaced his mask.

“Lift her up…”

Embo glared but did as Bossk asked, pulling you up against his chest. The pause in thrusting pulled you from the brink of orgasm, and you whimpered. Bossk slipped up behind you, pressing his chest into your back.

“Lube?”

Embo sighed and reached over into his drawer to produce a little bottle. Bossk took it with a purr and you listened as he squirted it all over his cocks. He slicked his length and rubbed the excess along your asshole, and you sucked in a deep breath, preparing for the breach.

What you weren’t prepared for was the head of Bossk’s lower cock prodding at your already occupied cunt. You gasped, holding onto Embo tighter as you stretched to accommodate both of their cocks. You never thought you could stretch this wide and yet… Embo hissed at the sensation of Bossk’s cock pressing up against his.

Bossk’s upper cock pressed into your ass and you leaned forward to bite at Embo’s shoulder to contain the scream which threatened to escape your lips. Slowly, Bossk inched into you; he panted in your ear, his tongue sneaking out to caress your neck.

“You’re so tight. Fuck!”

You whined, leaning back against him as they both slowly started jacking their hips, their cocks sliding in and out of you in tandem. Your nerves zapped with ecstasy as their cocks caressed every sensitive inch of your cunt. At the same time, the sensation of Bossk’s cocks rubbing against the thin wall of flesh separating them was enough to make your head spin. Embo’s hands went to your tits, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive, swollen nipples. Bossk’s hands gripped your hips tight enough to bruise.

In and out, in and out, over and over again; their cocks put you in a daze as your body started to shake. Your eyes fluttered shut as they both uttered curses in their native tongues.

“Oh, oh!! I’m gonna-!” You cried out as the warmth in your belly threatened to spill over. They picked up their paces, thrusting unequally now at an attempt to usher forth your orgasm. It worked. You arched your back toward Embo with a loud cry, and a rush of fluids spilled out around their cocks as fireworks exploded within you. You felt electric. You felt alive. They didn’t stop their thrusting, chasing their own orgasms now even as your cunt tightened around them. When you regained control, you leaned forward, resting against Embo’s chest. You peppered his neck with tiny kisses.

“Are you gonna cum for me?”

He nodded, a bit frantically, as his pace became erratic. This drove Bossk closer to his own orgasm, and soon, he too was off-pace. Embo came first, spilling deep inside you with a soft hiss. This was enough to send Bossk over the edge, and he followed suit, though he was much more vocal about it. Slowly, gently, they pulled out of you, and you felt their combined cum seep out of you.

“Fuck…” You muttered as you laid back on Embo’s bed. He laid down beside you, drawing the pad of his finger over your stomach.

“Are you finished, dear one?”

You shook your head frantically, and he chuckled. “Good… And you, Bossk?”

“I’m just getting started.”

#iri writes #my fanfiction #star wars smut #smut #smut writing

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mangolover · 4 years ago

Text

Creature of The Dark part 3 (Theodorus van Gogh x reader)

Find part one here

Find part two here

Title: Creature of The Dark (part 3)

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire / Ikevamp / Ikevam

Pairing: Theodorus van Gogh x gn! reader, Vincent van Gogh x gn! reader (platonic)

Genre: Angst, comfort

Warnings: nightmares, not eating properly, mentions of losing job, mentions of being homeless, argument, dark thoughts, mentions of a unhealthy relationship (lack of comunication), depression(?), swearing, shouting, breaking glass, breaking porcelain, humilation, betrayal, snow, mentions of time

Spoilers: Theo’s route

Word Count: 2600+ (six pages...)

Description: He broke yet another promise and you cut ties with the whole mansion, trying to live on your own in city. Losing your job and getting kicked out, you didn’t know where else to go but to the art gallery.

Part 2: Going to the gallery was a bad idea and you become aware of that after the same mistakes got repeated and sparked an argument. Now you are sitting on a bench in the park, feeling hopeless until a faimilliar figure comes to your aid.

Part 3: You secretly came back to the mansion with the help of the Vincent, and as much as he helped you, it all came crashing down when you were discovered by Theodorus. Now all that’s left is to finally find the shadow in the darkness.

This has some first person perspective, but it’s mostly 2nd perspective.

Dark thoughts are going to be present throughout whole series, so proceed with caution.

Only nightmares are explored a bit deeper, everything else is pretty much just mentioned, but if anything is triggering to you, please skip this one.

Also, when somthing is writen like this ('example'), it's from the suitor's point of view or their thoughts, not reader's.

I am making this in multiple parts, temptation won this time.

Enjoy!

Pointing to the place on bench next to you, he asks “may I sit here?“ And you just nod while scooping away, wanting to give him as much space as possible. “Thank you, Y/n!”

Vincent was always a reliable friend and a sense of comfort would wash over you whenever you saw his angelic smile. He and Theo were like hell and heaven, polar opposites. However, you were glad to have someone like Vincent to call your friend. ‘Or is he your friend anymore?’

“How have you been?” you looked up at Vincent who was staring I front of him, his hands placed on his lap and you mirrored his actions, straightening your posture and averting your gaze before answering.

“I’ve been good. I found a job and a place to stay. But I think it’s time to go back to my own time” you tried to sound as casual as possible, hoping you hid your emotions well, just like Theo always did.

“And how are you doing now?” but Vincent could see through a mask even as good as Theo’s.

“I…” you considered your next words, “I could be doing better. Some obstacles came along the way, but don’t worry! It’ll be better soon!” you turned towards him and gave him a strained smile, not knowing who you are trying to fool exactly. You were lying to both of you, but that was for the best.

Vincent turned to look at you with a worried expression. He was suspicious because you stayed there last night and now you didn’t even go ‘home’. “How about we go pick something to eat? For old time’s sake.”

You were about to refuse before Vincent gave you a dazzling smile and extended his hand out to you, “I’m not taking no for an answer, Y/n.” That was the end of the story as you took his hand and Vincent took you to get something to eat in a nearby café that was surprisingly still open.

Once you were seated and ordered your food and drink of choice, after Vincent insisted it was his treat, you fell into a somewhat comfortable silence. There was still tension in the air, no doubt, but it was better than when you were with Theo.

“I’m sorry for leaving without a proper explanation to all of you except Comte” you broke the silence with a voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s alright” to your surprise Vincent didn’t sound mad, his voice and face were full of understanding. “We were worried when even Comte couldn’t find you but considering how Theo was acting when you left and today’s situation, I understand.”

You let a smile grace your features, “thank you Vincent.”

“But please, don’t disappear on us again. The mansion is not the same without you” he looked sincerely sad. “Do you have a place to stay the night?” his voice was low and warm.

“O-of course! I told you I found a place to stay” you are sure your stutter sold you out.

Vincent didn’t even need to say anything, he just gave you a stern look and you lowered the gaze, embarrassment painting your face. “I don’t…”

“You can always come back to the mansion; I’m sure Comte would understand.”

“That is not an option. I left and cut contact with everyone” you let out a sigh. “Why do you even want to have anything with me?” Vincent looked at you in surprise. (‘Just how much have you suffered this 4 months Y/n?’)

“Because you are my friend. And we all care about you.” His reasoning was simple, but you couldn’t understand it. ‘Just why?’

“I don’t think going back to the mansion is a good idea” Vincent was ready to hear you out, always a shoulder to lean on. “Arthur will be there and he might be upset with me because Theo is his best friend. And I left Sebastian when he needed me the most. Isaac just started opening up to me and then I left. And Mozart will be annoyed by all the commotion.” You dreaded to tell who you feared to see the most, “and Theo will be there and I doubt it’s a good idea for us to see each other again.”

Vincent went quiet for a moment before speaking again, seemingly trying to work out the best solution. “The door doesn’t open for at least two more weeks. And I can’t let you sleep outside, so how about for at least tonight stay in the mansion?”

You felt uneasiness even if you knew Vincent just wanted the best for you. “I could sneak you in and you can stay in my room so others won’t notice you.”

Even if he knew that explaining why he was sneaking someone into his room last night was going to be tough and that he’s going to have to lie, he was ready to do anything for you.

“Do you promise I am not bothering?” you wanted to make sure he is one hundred precent sure about what he’s offering. Vincent nodded firmly just as your food came to your table and you both dug in, for once in so long you didn’t feel so alone.

Once you were both done eating and Vincent settled the bill, you made your way outside. Snow started falling outside and both you and Vincent enjoyed the view of the first now of a year for a bit. The snowflakes danced around the sky and landed everywhere, one of them landed on the tip of your nose which made Vincent laugh.

To him you looked like an ethereal angel in that moment. He understood why Theo had fallen for you, but to him you will never be more than a friend or a sister that he so desperately wants to protect from this cruel world, no matter the price.

Eventually, you fetched a carriage and started to make your way deep into the woods where Comte’s residence stood tall and hidden from the eyes of common folk. The long ride continued into the night, to which you were grateful as it gave you a bit more of a cover. Now all you needed was to be sneaky and you could go unspotted. Vincent draped his coat over your shoulders to conceal you even more. Wrapping his hand around your wrist, he guided you into the mansion and into his room, checking that the path was always clear of any other residents.

Everything was going smoothly until he opened the door of his room and saw Arthur down the hall, quickly he pushed you into the room and shut the door behind you signaling you to keep quiet and all you two could hear was a whistle and a quiet chuckle as Arthur’s footsteps faded away.

“That was close” Vincent let out a breath he had been holding before smiling at you.

“I’m sorry Vincent,” you were feeling embarrassed and guilty, “knowing Arthur, everyone will know you sneaked someone in the next morning and Theo will not let you off the hook so easily.”

Vincent gazed at you for a bit before bopping the tip of your nose and letting out a giggle. “I told you it was alright, now go get settled for the sofa. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“You can’t be serious Vincent. I was ready to sleep outside on a bench, even the floor is perfectly fine for me.”

In the end, you two agreed that he can sleep on the floor, but he gets the blanket and the pillow from the sofa. He turned out the lights and you stared through the big window in his room. The moon cast its light and illuminated everything. ‘Maybe this was why Vincent became a painter? So he could etch the images like this onto the canvas, marking them for all eternity.’ Sleep won’t be coming to you anytime soon, but you just hoped nightmares won’t chase you once again.

However, your hope was all in vain.

Nightmares of losing Theo to L’Académie. Him yelling at you while you are shaking in the corner, his fangs out making him look like a monster. Each time you opened your eyes from one nightmare, another one came as soon as you closed them again. The last one was everyone you knew, even your own self laughing at you as you were freezing, telling you it’s your fault for burning bridges and trying to act like you’ve got it all together. You woke up with tears in your eyes and you gasped as you woke up, you started hyperventilating and it must’ve woken up Vincent because he was crouching next to you in a flash, one hand holding yours and other on your back, rubbing in soothing motion.

“That’s right, just deep breaths Y/n, it was just a nightmare” he probably had experience when Theo had nightmares when they were kids. “I’m here okay, just relax.” Your breathing got regular in a few minutes before you flung your arms around Vincent and sobbed in his shoulder. He only pulled you closer in his embrace and let you cry it out. You were under a lot of stress and it was normal for you to break at one point. At least he was there to be your rock.

“Do you want me to go get you something?” he asked you in a soft voice once you got a hold of yourself.

“No, thank you, I don’t need anything.” You smiled at his kindness. “Thank you for helping me calm down.”

“Always Y/n, that’s what friends are for” the warmest smile was on his lips.

“Could…” you were embarrassed to ask him, but maybe that would help you finally get some peaceful sleep. “could you sleep with me on the sofa? You don’t need to if you’re uncomfortable, you’ve already done so much-“

“Scoot over” he picked up the blanket and the pillow. Covering you with the blanket, he wrapped his arm around you and leaned into your back. “Sweet dreams, Y/n.”

“Thank you, Vincent, sleep well!”

This time you had a dreamless sleep, but you were grateful Vincent made sure you were comfortable, even if it’s only for one night. Now the pressing question was, what to do in the morning? It will be harder to leave and what if Arthur recognized you? He was extremely smart individual. You let out a sigh as you woke up when the sun has already started climbing the sky. ‘Damn it! I missed my chance to slip unnoticed!’ But what to do now? You hoped Vincent had any idea, but he wasn’t here?

If anyone walks in, you are doomed. Even worse if they see you laying on his sofa. You were Theo’s old lover, not his brother’s. As you stood in the middle of the room panicking, regretting every choice that got you to this point, the door started opening and you froze on the spot. ‘Come on God, kill me now so I don’t have to suffer any longer.’ However, to your surprise it was just Vincent, bringing you breakfast.

“You startled me” you let yourself relax a bit when Vincent closed the door behind him.

“Arthur asked about ‘the mysterious person that went into my room last night’.” Oh no… “I asked him not to tell anyone and that nothing happened.” Knowing Arthur, Theo already knows and is just trying to process everything.

“I-“

“Don’t even think about apologizing. It’s okay” it’s like he read your mind. “I also asked Comte about the door and about you.” He handed you the breakfast and you gladly accepted it.

“He told me that if any of us has seen you, we can bring you back to the mansion if you ever need anything. Our home is always going to be your home too.” You carefully mulled over Comte’s alleged words in your mind. Still, there were 9 more vampires who probably didn’t want anything to do with you. “I haven’t seen Theo, though.”

Once again you felt like you hit a dead end. Only this time, there was a wall behind you and you had nowhere to go. Whatever you choose, it’s not going to end well. But you know you are going to have to confront either the residents or Theo once he barges into Vincent’s room.

Maybe it’s better if you go and thank Comte before leaving, new day’s a new chance after all, right?

“Could we go see Comte?” you were ready for rejection, but to your surprise Vincent beamed with happiness. (‘That’s it Y/n, baby steps.’) “I want to thank him for everything and apologize for coming unannounced.”

“Sure, but first finish your breakfast” he sat down on the sofa, looking relaxed as ever. “You need to regain your strength.”

You wanted to answer, but your mouth was full and you didn’t want to accidentally spit some food onto the angelic painter that got you this far. Vincent laughed as you struggled to swallow and reply.

“You are going to choke if you don’t eat it properly!” Vincent scolded you.

“Sor-“ however you were cut off by door slamming open and Theo and Arthur barging in.

You jumped out of surprise, the plate in your hands fell out of your hands, porcelain shattering into million pieces, just like your heart. The color was drained out of your face as if you saw a ghost. A lump came to your throat and restricted your breathing, your heart threatening to jump out of your chest, a cold sweat coated your body.

Vincent jumped as well, a deeply rooted panic only getting worse when he realized just who has come unannounced. His younger boer and his author friend. The same shock could be seen on Theo’s face, eyes darting between you and Vincent. What is he thinking? ‘Does he think me and Vincent slept together? Or worse, does he feel betrayed? And what about Arthur? Vincent can hold Theo off, but I have no chance against the two of them.’

Even if the old clock kept on tickling, the precious time getting lost like sand in wind, it seemed as if everything stopped. No one moved a muscle anymore. Breathing stopped. Even Arthur was speechless, his emotions finally out in the open, he seemed confused, almost hurt. ‘But that’s just your mind playing tricks on you, right Y/n?’

Theo finally broke the trance and Vincent instinctively took a step back towards you, trying to shield you from their eyes.

“What?” is all Theo muttered, however. It seemed like he wasn’t even mad, just utterly confused, betrayed. “What’s the meaning of this? Boer what is Y/n doing in your room?!” He raised his voice and you flinched. But neither you nor Vincent found the voice to explain just what’s happening. Letting out a sigh and casting his glance down, Theo walked away, his pace fast, his strides long and his nails cutting into his palms. The commotion brought Leonardo and Sebastian to Vincent’s room and you felt like you might pass out. Your worst nightmares came to life and now Vincent needs to pay the price as well.

One casted glance from Vincent over his shoulder was however all you needed to find the strength and courage to run past the stunned vampires and the butler, following into the direction Theo went.

You don’t have a plan; you almost never did. However, all you know is that Theo needs to understand and that silence won’t bring you two anywhere. You followed him out of the mansion and into the woods.

There are shadows in the dark, you finally remember that and you are ready to show that to your lover as well, it’s now or never.

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