#but yeah in the end mae needs to see their story through (see how the silmarils will judge him) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astrids2th · 26 days

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Always moving. Pt 1

Mae x Fem! Dancer Reader

summary: In a near-future Miami practically entirely submerged in water, Mae finds herself performing at a low end club, singing to the drunken guests. But here, before her performance, she catches a glimpse of a dancer in the midst of the warm, smoke filled club, and she finds herself spiraling into a dangerous love story with you. A dancer bound to the club by a miserable contract. but what will she do when her secrets catch up to her?

Warnings: None really, no smut yet, but there will be in part two! so stick around if that's what you want lol. also !men DNI! (always.)

A/N: Sorry for my bad English, it isn't my first language. Please tell me if there's any spelling mistakes, and please interact so I know if I should continue this fic! <33

word count: 3k (I'm doing word count now slay.)

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As the pulsating beat throbbed through the air, the club was alive with energy. Bodies moved in rhythm, a symphony of motion amid the haze of warm lights and swirling cigarette smoke, forcing you to squint as you tried to navigate through the claustrophobic mob of people who had all collected in the small club. Shoulders and hips struck against you, pulling a string of curses from you, and turning a couple heads who shot glares your way in annoyance at the interruption. But you didn’t care, you just needed to get to the dressing room as fast as possible. You were already late five or ten minutes, and forcing your way through the crowd, pulling, and pushing, you could practically hear the doomsday clock ticking in your head. Oh, you were going to get shit for this.

“Y/N, where the fuck have you been.” A hand grabbed your wrist, and you were hauled into the changing room as if you were on a fishing line, getting pulled out of the sea of people and into, well, not safety. Just another danger, you supposed. “Got held up on the way. Traffic,” You made up the excuse, covering for the fact that really you had just enjoyed a rather long nap and allowed yourself to sleep in a couple too many minutes. Your fellow dancer who was still holding your wrist firmly, raised an eyebrow at you, “traffic? At this hour?” She questioned you, clearly not buying the story and staring you down like a hawk. “Yeah… Traffic… people gotta get places, you know,” you continued to talk yourself back into a corner with a lie that you very well knew wasn’t getting you anywhere. The hawk sighed and rolled her eyes, letting go of your wrist and giving you a small, hopefully affectionate, shove in the direction of your changing station. “Just go get dressed, Y/N. Show starts in 20 minutes, if you’re not ready be then you might as well just leave.” You nodded vigorously and she turned away to leave. And as soon as she did, you snickered before making your way to the dressing station, swiftly slipping off your clothes and grabbing for the skimpy outfit that had been laid out ready for you.

You were half dressed when the door was burst open, or well if you took into account the fact that the outfit you were going to wear basically was the same as being “half dressed” you were more likely 25% dressed when she launched into the room. A woman looking positively panicked and with her ponytail half undone, hanging down her back, stray strands of hair hanging loose around her face. And as soon as she saw you, she gasped and desperately tried to look away and cover her face in an attempt to try and shield your dignity, but honestly you didn’t quite mind. You were a dancer at a low-end club where it was commonly known that most guests who came here didn’t come to enjoy the artistry of a dancer’s talents as they performed on the stage, but more so their bodies as they moved around. These guests (mostly men) didn’t pay for talent but for a good show and for how much skin the dancer’s costumes allowed them to see. Managers knew that. And dancers knew that. So, they leaned into it. Everyone needed their bills paid, and these men were stupid enough to pay them for you if you slipped your bra down just a tiny bit more than necessary. So, as you stood there, one tit out proud and unashamed, the woman in the doorway looking away with flushed cheeks, you just quirked an eyebrow in slight confusion and slight amusement. “Can I help you?” You asked her after a short pause where you both hesitated.

“Eh, y-yeah, could you tell me where the singer’s dressing room is?...” She questioned in a clearly nervous voice while continuing to look away in embarrassment, the parts of her cheeks which were visible to you behind her hands were flushed pink, making you smirk a bit in amusement. “You’re singing tonight?” You asked her in slight surprise and making no move to try and cover up any more than what little you were already covered currently. You saw no reason to and to be frank you were finding a lot of fun in watching her flustered state as she attempted to not look at your indecency. She nodded swiftly and cleared her throat in an awkward manner? “Yeah, umm... My name is Mae, I’m singing tonight…” She answered the best she could, and you gave a small hum in acknowledgement. “That’s a nice change, the singers here are usually old men who found a guitar in their attic and decided to start a music career.” You mused and casually pulled up the strap of your costume to at least cover a bit more, but Mae still decided to keep her eyes trained on the doorframe as if it was the most interesting doorframe she’d ever seen, and she nodded a bit as you spoke, not saying anything. You took that as an initiative to talk again. “The greenroom is down the hall, there’s an overdramatic star on the door, should be easy to spot,” you informed her and took out your makeup to start applying it to your face. You could hear her clear her throat again and she finally looked away from the doorframe. “Thank you… ?” “Y/N,” you finished for her as you noticed her slight hesitance, her face searching yours as she was trying to remember the name you never provided her with. She gave an attempt at a smile and nodded, and you felt a sudden feeling of… something… rising in your chest, though you couldn’t quite identify the emotion. But it felt nice. She was nice. “Thank you, Y/N.” her voice was nice too… But the moment was cut short as you once again hear the hawks voice screech for you, calling you to the stage, and drawing a groan for you.

“See you on the stage, Mae,” you call to her while picking up your shoes and stumbling by her, determined to not get fired for being late tonight. You needed this money a lot so while you were walking away you swiftly and inelegantly slip on the tall shoes, leaving Mae behind at the door to the dressing room, looking after you with what could almost be mistaken for a longing gaze. This was a busy club, and everyone was always moving, Mae would have to learn that.

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Every corner of the club was filled with electricity as you moved onto the stage, making an effort not to squint in the light of the overhead lamps which were pointing sharply down at you and the other dancers from above. None of you were left with much time before the music ripped through the crowd from large speakers. And you began, slim outfit hugging your body and trapping the heat in between the shimmering fabric and your warm skin. But you ignore the uncomfortable sensation and start moving forward, and then back. To one side, and then the other, every movement a testament to the hours of practice that you’d once put into learning this skill and art form, only for it to be left unappreciated by a crowd of hungry and drunken sharks.

With each leap and twirl you performed, you commanded the attention of those sharks, deliberately leaning forward at times, and forcing a coy smile which you had practiced in the mirror many a times before. And you pull the eyes of multiple onlookers, both on the floor, sitting at tables and in sofas scattered around the smoke-filled room, but also behind the curtain unbeknownst to you, curious eyes were following your movements with slight interest. Mae was covered as much as she could by the thick, red curtain while still allowing a small slit to peek out pointedly at not the group of dancers, but one specifically. The one who had so confidently conversed with her earlier, demanding her interest without even directly having to ask for it. Simply your way of being had piqued it.

Sweat glistened on your skin in the magnificent yet burning lights above the stage, but you seemed to not mind at all as your movements continued, and you held the eye contact confidently with a couple of the spectators who all smiled in amusement and satisfaction at the attention which Mae knew for a fact was not genuine but merely a show or a couple extra dollars. A good show, that was for sure. You knew exactly what you were doing, just not who was watching as well.

As the song drew to a close, the dancers collectively struck their final poses, their bodies taut with tension. And as if on cue, the crowd erupted into cheers and laughs, their applause a thunderous roar that echoed off the walls of the already loud club. With a sultry smile, you took a bow, basking in the adoration of your audience. Mae smiled amusedly at your display. You were not just a dancer — you were a star.

And then it was Mae’s turn on the stage. You had seen her as you exited from the stage, finally shielded from the crowd of sharks by the same curtains which had camouflaged Mae, but it seemed that she had hidden herself from you again, even as you had sought her out excitedly, also to cheer her on for her upcoming performance. But you were left confused but interested. And then you saw her walk onto the stage in the most gorgeous red dress that made you go quiet for a moment, the loud conversing of your fellow dancer slipping and fading into the background as you stepped a bit closer to the slit in the curtain, the same one that Mae had stood by just earlier. And you glanced out at her discreetly. And then her voice rung out throughout the crowd, leaving them silent. The earlier buzz of laughter and conversation fizzled out as their gaze and attention was naturally adverted to the beautiful woman on stage. You had only known this woman for maybe an hour or so, spoken with her once, and you were already feeling the butterflies waking up in your stomach. Something which you hadn’t experienced for years now. The sensation was strange and alien to you, and made you withdraw from the curtain in a slight movement. But you couldn’t draw your eyes away from Mae, even if you had wanted to, her presence was too striking to do so. So, you kept watching, listening, in awe at the woman who stood lone on stage with such confidence yet vulnerability, managing to silence the sharks and making it look effortless.

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“When you're awake the things you think- Come from the dream you dream- Thought has wings, and lots of things- Are seldom what they seem,”

“Sometimes you think you've lived before- All that you live today- Things you do come back to you- As though they knew the way,”

“Oh, the tricks your mind can play.”

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“You sang beautifully out there.” Your hand was on her shoulder, carefully as to not spook the skittish woman. She turned to you with slight surprise edged into her captivating features. There was a slight pause where she seemed to hesitate, as if thinking about something. Something important. Then she smiled, a genuine and soft smile, maybe slightly amused. It made you chuckle lightly. “Thank you, Y/N. You might be the first person to compliment my voice of all things.” The response made you smile as well, even in spite of the sad truth that it carried, knowing what she meant by the statement. The biggest part of both your salaries probably didn’t come from your talents or skills but rather… from the show you put on while performing. You made a move to slowly slip your hand off her shoulder and her warm skin, but she reached up and placed her hand over yours, subtly keeping it there and looking up at you from the stool she was sitting at, removing the makeup from her face with the mirror in front of her, shining a dramatic light at the both of you. “You danced brilliantly as well,” she complimented fondly, earning a small and gentle smirk to tug at your lips, the compliment causing your cheeks to tint a soft pink colour as well. The pink hue almost unnoticeable in the multi-coloured lights of the dressing room. So, you didn’t have to worry about her noticing the flushed state she had put you in, at least. “You might be the first person to compliment my dancing abilities as well,” you mused in reply and the smirk pulled into a teasing smile, pulling a light chuckle from the singer as well, and she squeezed your hand, making you pause at the gentle gesture.

You both found yourself stood in a pleasant silence, one of those rare ones where nobody has to say anything for a moment to feel special, comfortable. One of those silences that usually only appear between two people who are very special to each other. And maybe this ‘stranger’ had become special to you in those few hours you had spent together. But it couldn’t last forever. And her blue eyes drifted. They drifted away from your face and to the clock which hung behind you above the decorated entrance to the singers dressing room that you had slipped into to talk with her. And her expression seemed to drop in a realisation that you couldn’t quite understand. She looked almost… scared, and it made you frown and study her face, searching for an explanation. Why was she scared, what was she scared of, wh- “I have to go.” She shot up and out of her seat, making you almost stumble back with an expression that displayed the sheer confusion and bafflement you were feeling. And as she scrambled to scoop up all her things into her arms and stuff it into her bag, you scurried to try and help her out, but she only gently shoved you away with a look of slight remorse, an expression she tried to hide. “What, why, what’s wrong? Mae, what is happening,” You kept trying to approach her and maybe provide some comfort given how conflicted and even scared that she looked right now. “No, no, Y/N, nothing’s wrong, just- just stop it, have to go. Quickly.” She replied in a tone which was clearly an attempt at sounding harsh and decisive, but it just sounded desperate. And your shoulders slackened, a sigh passing by your lips while you watched her with a concerned expression. “Bye, Y/N… s- see you… sometime,” she stuttered out while rushing out the door, stuffing her last belongings down and into her back in her rush.

You just looked after her silently, brows furrowed in a consistent manner, body tensing with the sudden rush of worry you felt. What kind of Cinderella-esque shit was this?... “I-… See you too… I guess…” You murmured and looked at the spot which in which she had just stood scurrying and scrambling to get away either from or to something. It made you wonder… But you quickly shook your head and groaned in slight irritation, the sudden feeling of shame washing over you, as you wondered if it was something you had done something completely wrong, said or looked wrong. You dropped down in Mae’s former makeup chair. Mae had been hired in for this night and this night only, there was no contract, no nothing, so if she didn’t choose to come back to see you, she would likely never be returning to this hell hole in which you were bound and stuck by a stupid contract you signed in a moment of juvenility and naïvety where you had really thought your skills would get you somewhere, somewhere great with lots of money and fame. But no. you were here to please men with dance moves you had never even known in your young years of dance training. And as you sat there and buried your face in the palms of your hands, elbows placed firmly on the white surface of the table, causing red marks to appear on your skin from the rough treatment, you slowly turned your head to let out a sigh, but you were quickly halted as you caught sight of something. Something small and something shiny, buried in a heap of cheap makeup supplies. Your arms fell from holding your face and to instead laying on the table, and you reached over.

Pulling out the small artifact you noticed it to be an earring. An earring that you quickly noticed Mae to have worn during her beautiful performance which had captivated you so deeply, leading you to take note and remember practically everything about her. Including the pretty, little pieces of jewellery she wore, the green teardrop earrings. Bought cheaply to look expensive. Your expression furrowed in a moment of thought as you examined it. And your palm closed around the shiny object, and you held it almost protectively, not wanting to drop it as well. She would want this back. But she had left in such a messy hurry that she had dropped it in the panicked rushing.

But Mae was seemingly a busy woman, and she was always moving. Y/N would have to learn that.

#rebecca ferguson #rebecca ferguson x you #ilsa faust x reader #reader insert #reminiscence movie #mae reminiscence #wlw #fic #fanfiction #lesbian #oneshot #why is reminiscence so hard to spell

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forever-rogue · 2 years

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if you do go ahead with some soft single dad steve, I'd love to see either: if baby’s an infant, steve sneaking out of bed in the morning to feed her and they both fall back asleep together in the process, or if she’s older, steve caring for her when she’s gotten hurt and needs a bandaid on her knee and a pep talk. or! he comforts her back to sleep after a nightmare

AN | Yeah, okay, single dad Steve already has my heart! Here’s a lil something! 🥺🥰

Warnings | None

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 1k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve Harrington never thought he'd end up as a single father. A father, yes, absolutely, that's something he'd dreamed of forever. But a single one? Not so much.

But here he was, the only parent to his almost year old baby girl. It was rough - so fucking rough - but he wouldn't have changed it for the world. He loved her more than anything, and despite the hardships, he would have gone through all of it over and over just to have her.

He'd heard the beginnings of her crying start to crackle over the baby monitor and as much as he wanted to sigh and be annoyed, he didn't allow himself to do it. Sure, he was tired as hell and wished he could just stay in bed, but she wasn't to blame. She was just a baby who couldn't express her needs in any other way.

He padded down the hall, a warm bottle in his hand and eyes heavy with exhaustion. But then he saw her face, her pouty little lips and eyes that matched his own and suddenly things didn't seem so bad.

Steve had turned on one of the nightlights, and a soft golden was cast around the nursery. He reached in the crib and gently picked her up before cradling her against his chest.

"Little Miss Daisy Mae," he cooed softly as he kissed her chubby little cheeks, "it's okay, baby girl. Daddy's got you."

She quieted down almost immediately, the corners of lips pulled into a gummy smile. Any annoyance he’d felt at being woken up dissipated at the sight of daughter. He sat down in the rocking chair and made sure they were both comfortable before offering her the bottle, which not surprisingly, she was eager for.

He sang softly to her, tunelessly but with his best effort; it wasn’t like she minded. She just loved being held by Steve, already a daddy’s girl. She would have been, you were sure, regardless of whether or not Steve was her only parental figure.

Once she finished eating, he set the bottle down and pulled the soft blanket from over the chair and covered both of them up. He wanted to go back to bed, but he didn’t want to leave her and he still worried that she was too small to bring into bed with him and that somehow he would crush her. Instead, he opted to stay right where he was, rocking gently with her in his arms.

Eventually sleep overtook both of them, and he fell asleep with her in his arms. Which is exactly how you found them a few hours later when you got up for the day and did what you always do first - check on the baby. You’d found it odd that she hadn’t cried or needed anything during the night, but chalked it up to her being extra tired. Little did you know Steve had beaten you to the punch. You might have been his live-in nanny - something you both benefited from with you getting to live in his house for free and him getting someone to help when he needed it - but you’d fallen in love with his daughter in almost no time. Him too, but that was a whole other story.

The blanket had fallen to the floor so you swooped in and picked it up before gently placing it back over them. Steve opened his eyes and gave you a sleepy smile before moving to get up, but you were quicker and put your hand on his shoulder to keep him down.

“‘s okay,” you whispered so you wouldn’t wake Daisy up, “stay with her and I’ll make breakfast. I’ll take her when its ready so you can eat and shower, okay?”

He gave you a sleepy little nod before closing his eyes again and deciding to take advantage of your help, “you’re an angel, sweetheart.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #joe keery #joe keery x you #joe keery x reader

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theatrediva1975 · 1 year

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Redemption | Chapter 5

BACK IN BLACK

As they started the drive back to the house, Sam finally felt herself starting to calm down, finally compartmentalizing as she had been taught. Her breathing under control, her heart rate slower, Sam took a deep breath and watched the beautiful scenery of the island go by. She also started formulating a plan on what she needed to do moving forward.

Mae glanced over at her passenger. She knew Sam was up to something in that brain of hers. Hoping to distract her a little longer, hoping she could stop ‘crazy’ from happening the minute they stepped over the threshold, Mae pondered what she could say to catch Sam off guard. Throw her a little. So, she went for the jugular.

“He looked damn good,” Mae said, with a little growl in her voice.

Sam barked out a laugh that ended up in a snort, causing both women to bust out laughing. “Yeah. Yeah, he did,” Sam conceded, quietly. “He definitely filled out those dress blues nicely.”

“I noticed you guys didn’t talk much,” she fished.

“Nah. It’s okay. I did what I came to do,” Sam replied. The hint of sadness in her voice was different than Mae had heard the past few days. This sadness had nothing to do with John and everything to do with Steve. Mae had been there for the four years between the deaths of the Devereauxs and Doris McGarrett. She had seen what an utter handful Sam and Steve had been together, but they were also so loyal to each other, always looking out for each other, always there when the other needed it. Mae knew how heartbroken Sam had been when Steve left, when John sent him away. To Mae, it seemed as if it was a loss Sam never truly got over.

Seeing Sam slip back into a melancholy she was scared would start to consume her, Mae went for another distraction. “How about we stop at Kimo’s for lunch? I think we could use the sustenance,” Mae said.

“Sure, Mae, that sounds good,” Sam responded with a small smile.

After lunch at their favorite little café, Mae suggested taking a walk along the beach, once again stalling for time to get Sam’s frame of mind straight. “Mae, do I really look like I’m in beach walking attire?” Sam asked with a lopsided grin, gesturing to the rather warm dress uniform she was still wearing. Mae acquiesced.

“Ah, you’re right. Sorry. I imagine you’re a little itchy and probably about to keel over from the heat stroke,” Mae joked.

“Um, yep, pretty accurate,” Sam chuckled as she looped her left arm through Mae’s right. They made their way to the car and headed for home.

Sam once again couldn’t keep her eyes off the house next door as they passed. She had come up with a few ideas while at lunch, in between Mae’s constant barrage of stories of old family friends. Sam knew Mae was trying to distract her. Sam also knew that Mae knew it wasn’t going to work but she was going to try anyway. Just another reason Sam loved and revered her Aunt Mae. The woman didn’t know when to quit, when to take no for an answer and she absolutely refused to give up, no matter what. I guess that’s where I get it from, Sam thought with a smile.

Once inside the house, Sam made her way upstairs, making excuses about wanting to get changed and rest. Mae knew better but she was also keenly aware of the fact that not one single thing she said or did was going to change Sam’s mind. Mae just hoped she didn’t have to arrange to have bail money at the ready before the afternoon was over.

“Well sweetie, if you’re going to lie down for a bit, I think I’m going to make some tea and follow suit, if you don’t mind. I’m sure if you can’t rest, you’ll find something…constructive to do.”

Sam snickered. Mae Devereaux would have made a good agent. Hmm, maybe she had been at some point, given all the traveling she did when Sam was young. I never thought of running her through any databases, Sam thought, only half-jokingly. But, for the moment, she simply said, “I understand. It’s been a rough morning. Get some rest.”

Mae smiled at her and went into the kitchen, shaking her head and sighing.

Sam climbed the stairs to her room and peeled off the blazing hot uniform. Pulling her hair out of the tight, headache-inducing French twist, she put it back into a ponytail. After throwing on a black ensemble of a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, she changed into her favorite pair of matching boots. Back in black, Sam thought as she looked in the mirror. After running an inventory of what she needed through her head, she changed her mind and stripped off the jeans for a more practical pair of cargo pants. She loaded them up with her lock picks, phone for photos, a small flashlight, and she grabbed her badge just to be safe. Sliding her Glock into the back of her waistband, pulling her t-shirt over the outline of the gun, she waited until she heard Mae close her door before she left her own room. Sam quietly went downstairs and walked into the oversized pantry, pulling out a few pairs of gloves. Mae loved to cook and ate her steak as bloody as the next guy, but she was completely grossed out by actually having to touch raw meat. Sam said a silent thanks that she always had a bulk supply of food grade, nitrile gloves stashed away. They were nearly identical to the black latex gloves she had used at crime scenes over the years.

Sam walked out the back French doors, making a beeline for the edge of the fence that separated the Devereaux property from the McGarrett’s. Sam stuck her head around and made sure the yard was empty and quietly made her way along the fence line, ducking under the police tape on the lanai and knelt at the back door, pulling on the gloves. She made quick work of picking the lock, silently stepping into the home she knew like the back of her hand. After all, she had basically grown up in this house, spending just as much time there as her own.

Taking a deep breath, Sam advanced into the den. A sob stuck in her throat as she stood in the space where John, the man who had saved her life, had lost his in one of the ugliest, most violent of ways. She felt cold standing there, as if with his death, the warmth that had always wrapped itself around her had died, too. What had once been her safe space, now, wasn’t. Victor Hesse took that away. It was no more evident than the moment Sam’s eyes settled on the wall. Like a punch to the gut, a wave of nausea swept over Sam as she stared at the blood. John’s blood. Before any further invasive thoughts sprung to mind, she was spared by a noise coming from the garage. Like a flip of a switch, Sam was back in complete control of her faculties. She yanked off her gloves, stuffed them in her pocket and grabbed her Glock out of her waistband.

Sam quietly released the safety on the gun and stealthily made her way to the garage door. Listening carefully, it sounded as though whoever was in the garage was around the Marquis. She heard the rustle of the car cover being removed. Man, John loved that car. She had spent hours with him in the garage after Munich. John had dragged her into the project, believing that somehow, some way, it would help Sam’s healing begin. And as usual, John had been right. They continued to work on the car when Sam would come home for holidays or vacations from LA, hoping they would be able to take it out at some point.

Shaking the newest flood of memories from her mind to focus on the intruder on the other side of the door, Sam carefully turned the knob. Praying the door wouldn’t squeak and give away the element of surprise, she slowly swept her eyes over the space. While the afternoon sunlight poured through the small window on the opposite wall, the garage was still dimly lit. It took a second for her eyes to focus and once they did, she located the figure of a man crouching down by the work bench. He had his back to her. Moving in on the target, she was taken by surprise when he swung around, grabbed her and in one swift move, pinned her face first against the Marquis. Sam countered just as fast and reversed the pin, sticking the muzzle of her gun between the intruder’s eyes before recognition set in.

“Steve! You ass!” Sam growled.

The surprise was evident on Steve’s face. But then, for a second, it looked as though…he was having fun. And sure enough, he gave her his best Cheshire cat grin.

“Good way to get yourself shot, you idiot,” Sam said haughtily as she placed her gun back in her waistband.

“Um, this is my father’s house, so a good way to get yourself shot,” Steve said as he showed her the gun in his hand. “How the hell did you get in here?”

Sam bit the corner of her lip, as she always did when she got caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar. Pondering how he would react, she just stuck her right hand into her pocket and held up her lock picks. Steve’s eyebrow shot up. Sam rolled her eyes. “As I was planning on technically breaking and entering an active crime scene, I figured why implicate Mae by asking for her keys.” Steve looked at her strangely for a brief instant when she said Mae had keys to his father’s house. Then the SEAL mask was back in place.

The pair just stared at each other for a minute. It wasn’t awkward, as Sam predicted it would be. More, bittersweet, she thought. Sam’s gaze softened and without thinking, grabbed the front of Steve’s shirt and pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arms around his neck. She was slightly surprised when, without hesitation, Steve wrapped his muscular arms around her torso and hugged her back. Tightly.

“I’m so sorry.” Sam whispered, stroking the back of his head.

“Me too.”

They held on for another moment before breaking the embrace, but remaining in each other’s personal space. They just looked at each other for another moment before Sam broke the silence and said, “We need to talk.”

“I know it’s been a long time, and with the way we left things…I wanted to reach out, Sam, really I did. It’s just…” Steve struggled to find the right words.

“Steve,” she interrupted, placing her fingers on his lips. It was an innocent gesture that turned into an intimate moment between them neither had been expecting. Sam swallowed hard before removing her hand from his mouth, continuing. “Yeah, I want to talk about that, too, but there are way more pressing matters we need to address. First…”

“Sam, I swear to you, Mae is safe here.” Steve knew Mae was the only family Sam had left and he would protect that with his life. In hopes of reassuring her, he continued. “I will personally see to it that she is watched and protected. But I promise you, this will not touch her.”

Sam smiled sadly at Steve. He really had no idea, did he? Better than anyone, Sam knew he couldn’t promise that. “So, you’re looking me in the eyes and telling me that Mae is safe?”

“Yes.”

“From Victor Hesse?” Steve’s eyes widened slightly at Sam’s question, particularly the emphasis on Hesse’s name. She continued, softly. “Yeah, I know it was Victor Hesse.” Tears threatened yet again but these were not tears of grief. They were tears of fear, of rage.

Sam could see in his eyes that he was fighting an internal war. What was it, she wondered as he started to speak. “You know about Hesse?”

“Yeah, Mac, I know it was Hesse,” Sam confessed. Steve’s reaction to her childhood nickname for him quickly transformed from playful into one of surprise and something she didn’t quite recognize. Perhaps it was fear.

“And Anton?” Steve cautiously asked. “You know…”

“That he’s burning in the deepest layers of hell? Yeah, I know,” Sam stopped short of saying the sick bastard’s name. And that was all it took for a tear to escape. Before either knew it, Steve lifted his hand to cup the side of her face, catching the tear as it slid down her cheek. Before she could stop herself, Sam allowed herself to melt a little into Steve. Falling completely would not end well, she knew. He’s a SEAL. He was only here for a few days to wrap up John’s affairs and then he would go back to traipsing around the world, hunting bad guys while she got on a flight back to LA where she would do the same. Taking a deep breath, hoping to diffuse the situation before it got to awkward, she spoke, breaking the spell with a silly, flippant question.

“So, didja miss me?” Sam chuckled, pulling back slightly. But it was also a sad query – had he ever thought about her? About them? Had he missed her, had he tried to contact her, had he even wanted to? Sam would have settled for anything at this point, which if she was honest, made her feel like a silly little girl. So, she was taken by complete surprise at his answer.

“Every day, Sam. Every damn day.” The two briefly got lost in each other’s eyes. Sam’s were full of surprise and bittersweet pain at Steve’s confession while Steve’s were filled with sorrow. They had lost so much at such a young age, most of all they had lost each other. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip as he leaned down…

“Hands up, don’t move!”

Within the blink of an eye, Steve, Sam and some blonde ha’ole had drawn their weapons on each other and the two men engaged in a shouting match. Sam just stared at Steve when she realized he had flipped her around behind him, in protection mode.

“Boys.” More yelling.

“Boys!” Sam said, slightly louder.

Enough. “HEY!!” Sam yelled. Silence. “Hmm, ooh, thought. Why don’t we all show each other our badges and clear this right up?” The two men looked at her with a look that was a cross between ‘she’s grown a 2nd head’ and ‘that makes sense’. Sam loudly whispered in Steve’s ear. “And if you ever pull the soccer mom arm, slash women & children behind the big bad SEAL move on me again, I will throat punch you.” Steve gave her a dirty look and rolled his eyes.

The two men went on to argue that neither were putting their guns down. Sam rolled her eyes, but the truth was, she wasn’t putting her gun down either.

Finally agreeing to pull out IDs on the count of three, everyone reached for their credentials. “One. Two. Three.” The blonde was Detective Daniel Williams, Honolulu Police Department. Aha, Sam thought. So, this was the guy she planned on giving a hard time after his refusal to give into her request for some interagency cooperation. Huh, she thought. Not bad.

“Lieutenant Devereaux? We spoke the other day, right?” Danny asked. Steve shot her a look, which she ignored.

“Yes, Detective Williams. You were less than inclined to, how shall I say, throw me a bone,” Sam replied playfully. Danny turned his attention to Steve.

“Listen, I’m really sorry about your father, but you can’t be here right now,” Danny said to Steve. While they exchanged a few barbs, Sam studied Detective Williams. Jersey accent. Tie. Too much hair product. She smiled inwardly, thinking how fun he would be to tease and mess with. He seemed like the kind of cop she would want on her side. She got a good vibe from him, despite their initial interaction and the current state of affairs. And he was pretty cute, too. Before she could get any further with her assessment of the cute cop, Steve grabbed John’s red tool box from the work bench with one hand and Sam’s hand with his other.

“Leave the box or get arrested,” Danny said.

“All right,” Steve said. “Gonna call for backup?”

“An ambulance,” Danny replied. Sam had to duck her head to hide her snicker. She was surprised when Steve put the box down on the back of the Marquis and looked at her. She couldn’t read the look on his face. The way he was staring into her eyes, it was as though he was trying to read her, figure out what she was thinking. There was a brief moment that passed between them before he spoke.

“Wanna find some trouble, Red?” Steve asked her with a twinkle in his eyes and an incredibly sexy lopsided grin on his face.

“With you, Mac? Hell yeah,” Sam instantly replied. She couldn’t help but smirk. They were settling into their old verbal back-and-forth in less than five minutes, despite being separated for nearly two decades. How was that possible, Sam wondered. Yet, it felt good. It felt right. It also felt like, all of a sudden, Sam knew her world was going to turn upside down. Again. She resumed chewing on the left corner of her lip, unsure of what direction this was going to take her.

Before Sam or Danny knew what was happening, Steve was on the phone with Governor Pat Jameson. Looking into Sam’s eyes, Steve said, “Governor, I’ll take the job. No, let’s just say I found some things that changed my mind.”

“Take the job?” Sam mouthed at him, which simply elicited a wink. Next thing she knows, she’s listening to him take an oath. What the hell is going on, she thought. Steve didn’t break eye contact with her until he hung up the phone and once again grabbed the tool box. And Sam’s hand.

“Now it’s my crime scene.” And with that, Steve pulled Sam through the door. She had the courtesy to at least shrug in empathy and throw a look of apology at Danny, who was standing there with his jaw wide open. Sam simply stared at the back of Steve’s head as he dragged her out of his father’s house.

#steve mcgarrett #steve mcgarrett x reader #danny williams #danny williams x reader #chin ho kelly #kono kalakaua #wo fat #hawaii 5 0

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nitw · 2 years

Note

would you like an excuse to nitw post i for the life of me canNOT understand the PLOT OF THIS GAME

that's fair! nitw's core story is intentionally vague and non-direct so i don't blame people for not immediately getting it. i'll talk abt it as quickly as possible bc i just woke up lol

the 3 major themes of nitw i feel are dealing with mental illness as a young adult, existentialism, and how capitalism takes lives in different ways.

while mae's official diagnosis is never revealed, the way she describes her experience at college is easily identifiable if you've ever been through a long-term depressive episode in your adult years. the thing about depressive episodes and other forms of mental breakdowns is that they aren't always rational. in mae's case, while a lot of it seems to stem from peer pressure and rushing into something she wasn't prepared for, she's not really able to grasp what's wrong with her or why everything is going wrong until it's already too late. i always really liked the whole "shapes" allegory when she talks about dissociation; how the world just started blending together one day, from things that used to make sense and have a meaning and an identity attached to them, into random shapes and colors that didn't mean anything.

now, the existentialist and anti-capitalist elements in this game might be harder to see if you don't know youre looking for them, because this is where the whole supernatural/demonic cult thing comes in. it also doesn't help that nitw's full story can't be experienced in just 1 playthrough, since some of the context is locked behind events, hidden locations and specific dialogue choices. i'll try to summarize lt:

BASICALLY: in the game's lore, there's an all-powerful demonic being called "the black goat". it lives down at the far bottom of a hole in the ground, discovered by local miners many years before the game takes place. it's supposedly the cause of sinkholes, floods and other natural disasters around town, as well as the shitty state of the job market and people being forced to leave their homes. certain people (including mae) have "heard it singing" and have been inevitably gravitating towards it.

during an especially tough period for possum springs' working class, the town's old mining community formed a sort of cult around the black goat, after discovering that it LITERALLY feeds on human sacrifices. though the cult made it a rule to only sacrifice people who "wouldn't be missed" or "wouldn't contribute anything important to the town".

this is all a huge metaphor for late stage capitalism, as an endless cycling of people suffering and dying for the sake of maintaining "order" in society, and how you can't improve on these conditions without getting to and destroying the (literal, in the game's case) core of the problem. and that might be a task too big for any person.

near the end of the game, mae has this big monologue moment where she directly confronts the black goat, and in turn, confronts herself and her own issues. she basically goes "yeah, this whole situation sucks and maybe nothing we do will ever contribute to anything on the grand scheme. but that's why i need to hold onto even the smallest things that give my life meaning, even if they're sad, even if they hurt." it's one of my favorite scenes in the whole game, and really ties everything together in a neat little bow.

TLDR; at the end of everything, hold onto anything

#asks #blckvelvetopia #nitw #night in the woods

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a-mended-pact · 3 years

Text

Let the Right One In

A/N: So this is for @boldlyvoid 's challenge. I had so much fun writing this. Even though I'm still super anxious about posting my stories. It's been a pleasure and an honor getting to know you Em. Congratulations on reaching 2k! 🖤

Warning: Mentions of insecurities. Maeve Donovan. Faking a death.

Word count: 2,082

It was midday when I heard knocking on the front door. I was half tempted not to answer. Spencer was away on a case and neither him nor I were expecting anyone. Anyone that would come over at all was away on the case with him or states over. So who could be coming over unannounced? I clumsily headed towards the door. My fuzzy socks are making it difficult to stay balanced on the hardwood floor. A knock came again. It was gentler this time.

I looked through the peephole and saw a small woman looking around nervously leaning from foot to foot. “Who is it?” I wondered if I could at least get a name.

“I’m here to see Doctor Spencer Reid. I got his address from Aaron Hotchner.”

My face blanched at the sound of Hotch’s name. It had been quite some time since anyone had mentioned him. After he went into protective custody with Jack even though the reaper was dead he still chose to stay away. Contact with him was rare and slim. I quickly opened the door and watched her jump back slightly.

“Who are you?” she asked. She looked around the same age as him. She is actually quite beautiful. I wonder how Spencer knows her?

“ I’m Y/n Reid.” She tilted her head to the side as she studied me.

“I didn’t realize Spencer had a sister.” She finally met my gaze and smiled.

“Is he here or do I need to come back at another time?” A small laugh escaped me

“No, I am not his sister. I am his wife.” I crossed my arms over my chest and locked my foot in place behind the door keeping it only slightly ajar not letting her see into our home.

Her face shifted to one of slight surprise. “Oh well I better just go then.” She went to turn away. When a thought crossed my mind.

“Wait, I can call him if you’d like and let him know you are looking for him. What’s your name?” I was wondering whether this was a good idea or not to even call him but i had already offered and i am already in far too deep to turn back now.

She stopped not turning to face me again. “My name is Maeve. Maeve Donovan.”

Maeve. Why did I know that name? Why is my brain going off with alarm bells? But why do I know that name? I watched as she vanished from the hallway down the flight of stairs never turning back around to look at me.

I slammed the door shut as I racked my brain on if I should mention this to Spencer at all. Especially while he is away on a case. Maybe I should wait until he gets home. He should be home later tonight. At least if the weather was alright over in New Hampshire. He had left me a message earlier this morning to let me know the case was solved and it had started snowing there but their flight wouldn’t be ready till a little later.

He should be home in about an hour now. I will wait. I’ll definitely wait.

When Spencer walked through the door he looked sluggish and about ready to just collapse. The exhaustion clearly got to him from not getting enough sleep while he was away. He took off his satchel and his suit jacket. He began undoing his tie as he walked his way into our bedroom. Not even making eye contact with me.

He came back out moments later in nothing but his flannel sweatpants. “Sorry I know I should have said hello to you. I just felt like I was suffocating in my clothes today.” As he spoke he made his way to the couch where I sat at one end.

Once he sat down he leaned down and put his head in my lap. I gently started running my fingers through his hair while scratching his head.

“That feels really nice.” His voice was soft and he let out a quiet sigh as he relaxed into the couch and my lap.

If I wasn’t petting his head I was gently caressing his back with my fingertips. I know I needed to tell him. I was just so nervous. I knew somewhere deep down this would be stressful to him. The day already has worn him out so completely. It was like he needed my touch to recharge himself. I began biting my lip as my hand stopped on his lower back.

“Hey, Spence, A woman came by to see you today. She said she got your address from Aaron.” He made a humming noise to let me know that he heard me. “Her name was Maeve Donovan.” I felt his back muscles tense at the sound of her name. He sat up immediately.

“Wh- what did you say?” He looked at me as if I had just grown an extra head or as if I had just spoken another language. “Mae-” He cut me off. “No, I heard what you said. I don’t need you to repeat yourself. It’s not possible she was at the door. She is dead. She’s been dead for years.”

He pushed himself up off the couch, the muscles in his arms flexing more than usual. He was more tense than I have seen him in a long time. The last time I saw him this upset or stressed was when he first came back from prison. We were just dating back then.

“I am going to go call Hotch.” he moved quickly to grab his phone when he finally reached it. It began to ring. He looked at it for a couple of seconds before he answered.

“Hello?” His eyes widened slightly. I watched as he clenched his jaw and tears brimmed his eyes.

“M-m-maeve?” He leaned himself back against the wall. His breathing became irregular as he slid himself down the cold panel. At the same time I saw a couple of tears leave his eyes.

I sucked in a breath and sighed. Was this going to be the end of us? Now that all the stories Spencer told me of her came back once he said that she was dead.

She was his first love after all. It would only make sense right?

====Spencer’s Pov=====

My vision was blurred beyond recognition. I could hear my blood pumping in my ears as the sound of her voice drifted in and out. This isn’t real. It’s not possible. I watched her die. I saw her. She was pronounced dead at the scene. I mourned her. It’s been years. Nearly a decade.

“Spencer? Can you hear me?” I felt my tears stream down my face, nodding as if she could see me.

“Yeah, Yeah I can hear you.” My voice cracked as I answered her.

“Just like old times huh? It’s so nice to hear your voice. I’ve missed you.” My breath hitched at her words.

I felt my heart hammer in my chest. I glanced up to see if I could find my wife. She was watching me with concern but otherwise she hadn’t moved not yet. All the guards Y/n had torn down throughout the years started building themselves up higher and higher.

"H-how are you alive? I watched you die." The horrible memories of that fatal day still haunted me. What am I supposed to do now?

Do I still have feelings for her? Is it wrong if I do? I don't know how to handle this. What should I do?

"That's why I came to see you earlier. It was an idea that I came up with at the last minute. So I faked my death." Her voice was calmer than my breathing. I felt the walls Barricading around me to keep me safe. I was suffocating.

I wasn't sure I had heard her right. I could feel my ears ringing as the blood in me ran cold.

"You faked your death and made me believe for a decade that the first person I ever loved died a brutal death because you wanted a new life?" My tone was harsher than I anticipated.

I felt my wife's hands run through my hair in a comforting manner as she lowered herself to the floor with me.

I glanced at Y/n as tears streamed down my face. The memories of Maeve and my feelings for her wreaking havoc on my heart.

"Darling, I think you should hang up. For now anyway." She whispered it as her hand lowered to the back of my neck giving me a gentle message.

My back stiffened. I was so caught up in my own nightmare I hadn't realized that this is probably a living one for her.

"Spencer. I can expla-" I cut off the call before she could even finish her sentence. Y/n was right.

"You have a lot you need to process and I'm sure you didn't want to say anything you would regret. I'm sorry if I've overstepped." She looked a little nervous as if I was gonna snap at her the way I had Maeve

I gently grabbed the hand that was touching me and brought it up to my lips placing a kiss on it.

"Nonsense. You are my wife. You were right. I should have hung up. I just. I don't know how to explain what I was feeling." I could feel my breathing begin to slow slightly as I tried to match her breathing to get mine back to normal.

It was like my world paused for a moment and began to spiral faster than I could catch my balance. I felt air fill my lungs when I heard her voice but yet I was left gasping for oxygen.

The very thought of Maeve brought back so many things I thought I had dealt with prior to now. I leaned my head against my wife's shoulder as I just let the tears fall.

I felt awful having her comfort me over another woman. Yet I couldn't bring myself to completely care. She was the one offering me comfort.

She held me in her arms. Whispering to me that things will be okay. That we'd figure things out.

I truly didn't deserve her. She loves me so unconditionally it's unnerving. That's when my phone went off again.

It was the same number Maeve had called me from.

I glanced at my wife. Who just watched me. That's when I fully knew and decided something that had been bothering me for over the past hour or so.

I let my phone continue to ring as I cupped her face.

"You...you make me feel special and good and all these things that I still don't have the words for yet— good things… things I never thought I deserved to feel.” I pulled her in closer letting our lips caress one another.

"I love you Spencer. You don't need to say all of this right now. I know you are still-" She tilted her head to the side as if she were trying to figure me out. "Cluttered and that's okay."

I kissed her harder than I've ever kissed anyone before.

"I’m not in love with her, I’m in love with you”

I have no real idea on if she needed this reassurance all I knew is that I did. I wanted her to know out loud what she meant to me. I couldn't imagine a better partner. A better lover or a better best friend than her.

I wasn't going to have her doubt everything about us. Not for anything.

I stayed close to her as my phone kept repeatedly going off until eventually it stopped. I was still figuring things out.

Knowing that Maeve was alive before I met Y/n would have changed my life completely but now? I didn't want anything to change. For once I was happy. I had someone in my life who put me first. Who cared about me. Who wasn't afraid to hurt my feelings as long as it kept me safe. She loved me for me and all the mess in between who I have yet to become.

She saw me for me. I wasn't Doctor Spencer Reid. I wasn't a federal agent or a professor to her. I was just Spencer. The man for some ungodly reason she chose to love.

#Boldlyvoidchallenge #boldlyvoid *insert mushroom emoji*#2k challenge #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer x reader insert #spencer x y/n #boldlyvoidwritingchallenge

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bts-reveries · 3 years

Text

the most beautiful moment in life | epilogue

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life.

We all knew that to get to the pretty parts of life, you’d have to get ugly first.

Hey, no pain no gain right?

Well I hope you liked our most beautiful moment in life. Thank you for going through the good, the bad, and the ugly. For running after Hana with Yoongi when she saw the grand opening of 24/7 Heaven. For walking with Huimang to Hobi’s door. For riding the train to Ilsan with Byul to meet Namjoon. For being with Jimin when he was scared and alone with Mingyu. For being with Taehyung when he finally met the one. For being with Jungkook and Rina when they got engaged. And for being with Jin and Mae when their perfect life wasn’t so perfect after all.

It was happy, it was sad, sometimes it made us mad… but I mean, that’s what we have to go through sometimes right? Not only does it make the story more interesting, haha, but it happens in real life. As cheesy as it sounds, rainbows come after the rain.

We started off happy, then went to parts that made us sad or angry.

That’s just what you go through to be happy sometimes.

The boys, the girls, the kids, they all fell apart at one point, only to reach their happy ending.

So hey

If you ever feel like you’re falling apart, maybe you’re just falling into place.

Maybe

Just maybe

You’re about to reach the most beautiful moment of your life.

Because right now, in real life, away from this one, we are all going through the same thing.

Yeah, the pandemic.

I know we don’t all live the same exact lives, but we all had it rough this past (almost) two years.

We might’ve lost a job, a loved one, connection with friends, got sick, got depressed, felt scared, and so much more. Because I have. Not every single one of those in that list, but most of them.

If you were here since daddy duties, that was the start of the pandemic. I believe the lockdown in my country happened when I was posting the intro for that. How crazy?!

For most of us, this AU has been a little escape. A world without covid as someone once said. Actually, a lot of you have told me that reading this AU and receiving notifications for updates etc. are what makes your day. Which means so much to me of course!

“Hey Miya.”

I look up from my laptop to see Jin standing there in front of my desk here at work.

“Hey Jin, do you need anything?” I ask, closing my laptop. I always brought my personal laptop to work for whenever it gets quiet. Being a receptionist here at Moon Studios is pretty fun, but of course, it does get boring sometimes.

“No, no, I’m good. I actually am about to head home, but Yeonjun is still here,” Jin tells me. He has a smile on his face. “You two should go out, isn’t your shift over in a few?”

“Uh.. yeah it is,” I say, letting out a shy laugh. “Sure, um. I’ll just finish this up and I can go and meet him.” Jin nods.

“Okay, I’ll text him to come down soon. See you again tomorrow,” he says, walking away.

“See ya!”

Okay, anywho.

This was fun. A lot of us have a special connection with these characters and don’t want to see them go. Some want to see Rina and JK get married, I mean, we have all been anticipating it since the beginning right? Some want Sarang and Hobi to finally have a baby. And some just want to see the kids grow up.

Because, well…

Life Goes On

!note to readers!

This is in the span of a few years, not everyone’s first pic, second pic, etc. is on the same timeline (does that make sense?)

The instagram post shows a preview of their lives after the most beautiful moment in life. No, they did not all get engaged around the same exact time, nor did they all get married the same time/year, and had kids at the same time lol. It just shows that after the most beautiful moment in life they went on with their lives and got engaged, got married, had kids etc.

It could be the same year or different years. (ex. Rina and JK could of gotten married the same year Sohyun and Yoongi got engaged and around that time, Sarang and Hobi got pregnant.)

No years or dates were specified in this epilogue.

Also, the OCs instagram profiles are in the order of the AU’s release, not the dates of when the events of their lives happened!

☻☻☻☻☻☻☻

the most beautiful moment in life

☻ epilogue ☻

pairings: BTS x OCs (yoongi x sohyun, hoseok x sarang, namjoon x byul, jimin x yuna, taehyung x bora, jungkook x rina, seokjin x mae)

a/n: now this wraps it up! i felt like i said everything i needed to say already up there. but here’s a bit more. this au is so so so dear to my heart. never have i ever thought it would make it this far. nor did i ever think that i would have this many people reading it! i have made so many friends from this series. you all have a special place in my heart! thank you to everyone who followed along since the very beginning, and even the ones whom just found out about us in the last member’s au. i didn’t think i’d be so attached to these characters, so just like a lot of you.. i want a part two. so with that being said, the most beautiful moment in life goes on. let this be a “part two” to the series, although it will be completely different in terms of format (???) i’ll have an official post on it later this week! until then, this isn’t good bye :)

taglist: @ramyagovindraj @sope-and-shine @jayhope88 @casspirit0705 @mygooie0 @fan-ati--c @spacxmann @princessjazzyjazz @sugaaddiction @ephyra1230 @starlitemotions @alittlestudycorner @justinetingball @somewhereofftheglobe @ygbubs @salty-for-suga @momma-said-that-it-was-oke @mikrokosmicjoon @taekookcaneatme @betysotelo18 [photos found via instagram and pinterest (mostly pinterest, so most of the pictures are unknown) here are the baby’s instagram:

jin: wooju_mom

namjoon: 2ah.in

yoongi: kimibbong1317

hoseok: nayun_mom

jimin: p_aiou

taehyung: no instagram, found on pinterest (jhanuul)

jungkook: tokki.daram]

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heartsofbeskar · 3 years

Text

red wood

farmer!din x fem!reader

warnings: me romanticizing small towns again, minor discussions of animal sickness (its all good tho)

words: 1.4K

a/n: ty to my babe @asta-lily for helping with the idea for this bit, and tysm to everyone for the amazing response to my last installment 🥺 i love u all so much and appreciate u!! feel free to drop ur thoughts and HCs on farmer!din, i love the inspo. oh and if anyones curious, this is my inspo for his house and the post that originally inspired farmer!din in my deranged lil brain

writing masterlist | farmer!din masterlist

It only took a few turns and a single lighted intersection before the downtown core of New Varo was getting smaller in the rearview mirror. It seemed like a whole universe encapsulated in just ten square kilometres, already overflowing with a wealth of new experiences you’d had in a short time.

You recalled the phone call you’d gotten that morning, the landline ringing loudly in the small clinic space, and you cursed as you made a mental note to figure out how to change the volume.

“New Varo Veterinary Services, how can I help you?” you rattled, phone wedged between your ear and shoulder as you moved about some paperwork.

“Hey, hi … uh, this is Din,” came a deep and recognizable voice from the other end. “From the market.”

A smile spread across your face, and you sat back in your chair, holding back a laugh that he had to clarify which Din he was. As if you’d forgotten the man you’d made a habit of visiting weekly without fail, trying his soap and jam and even the goat cheese he’d attempted to make; though admittedly the cheese had not been up to the standard of his other products.

“Hey, Din,” you chirped. “What can I do for you?” He’d never called the clinic before, though you’d given him the number, so you had to assume he was in need of your services.

“I was wondering if you make house calls. I’m just a bit worried about my cow, Molly Mae,” he said, confirming your suspicions. “She’s a rescue from a milking farm, and she hasn’t been eating well the last couple of days so I’m uh… I’m just worried about her.”

This was how you found yourself in your truck now, having closed up the clinic earlier than usual, leaving a note on the door for any potential walk-ins. One hand rested on the top of the wheel, and with the other you fiddled with your coffee mug, which you’d brought along, even though you knew the coffee inside was probably cold.

The trees lining the road were painted with brilliant and deep greens, some of them playing host to vibrant blooms of the late spring and early summer season. It had been hard, impossible even, to see the natural cycles and waves of life as it progressed through the year. But here, where nature sat close to the surface and cradled the town in its gentle hands, it was an obvious rhythm; a calendar you didn’t need to hang on your wall.

“Oh yeah, Din Djarin,” Peli had said, as she’d settled into your sofa for your regular coffee sessions. You poured the amount of cream you knew she liked into her steaming mug, before sitting beside her. “Moved onto that farm of his a few years ago, just him and the kid. Cheeky little thing!”

You laughed, brushing your hair back from your face. “He is; so adorable, though. So … you never met Grogu’s mom?”

Peli raised a brow at you, but refrained from the comment she obviously had waiting on her tongue, answering your question instead. “No, she was long gone before he got here. Keeps to himself, though, so I don’t know the story.”

Your fingers thrummed against the steering wheel as you drove further into the countryside, late afternoon sun bathing you in a warm glow. Unbidden, a lazy smile spread across your face as a wooden sign loomed closer, matching the red GPS arrow on your phone, reading “Djarin’s Hobby Farm,” the aesthetic matching perfectly to his stand at the market.

His driveway was gravel, long and winding, and a strange warmth grew in your stomach, settling low there as the house came into your view. It was shaded by numerous trees, red wood siding nestling it in naturally to the environment around it.

Din stood on the stoop under the overhang of a small porch, shirt half buttoned, exposing the top of his golden chest, a generous patch of dark hair smattered over it. He wiped his hands on his denim jeans as he smiled at you, where you climbed down from the truck, taking your mobile veterinary kit in hand.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” you teased, feet crunching across the uneven ground. As you got closer to him, you could see the sheen of sweat across his skin. He smelled of pine and lavender and somehow like the fresh air that encircled you, and a different heat flushed through your body.

“Thanks for coming so soon,” he said. He gestured with one arm towards a paddock that extended around the back of the property, his other arm circling around your back, hovering but not touching. You felt the heat of its proximity to your skin. “She’s just around this way.”

“Where’s Grogu?” you asked, as the two of you stepped in rhythm.

“Kitchen,” he answered, head tilting in the aforementioned direction. “He just got home from school; we have a deal that he has to do his homework before he can feed the animals.”

Your smile widened at the sheer domesticity of the situation. He led you to the gate, unlatching it, and you got the first glimpse of Molly Mae, hovering near the fence, tail swinging lazily. She was a beautiful girl, coat spotted with large and deep colourations of black. You ran your hand down her back, gauging her temperament, and she just cast you a slow glance, seeming otherwise unbothered.

Snapping on a pair of gloves, you knelt down. Din watched nervously as you examined Molly Mae, hands running carefully and delicately across her skin, trying not to hurt her. It was warm to the touch, confirming the thoughts you had.

After a moment, you rose to full height again, shucking the gloves off now, stuffing them into a plastic baggie to dispose of later. You faced Din where he stood, shifting on his feet. He gently stroked the cow’s nose.

“It looks like a flare up of an old mastitis infection,” you told him, eyes sympathetic. “I’ll take a swab so I can run a culture, but I’m pretty sure. It’s extremely common for milking cows.”

Din let out a breath he’d been holding, eyes turning towards the cow. It was obvious to you how much he loved her, and your heart lurched where it sat in your chest. A warm breeze blew by.

“Is she going to be alright?” he asked. When he looked back at you, his eyes were darker, serious.

“Oh, yes!” you assured him hurriedly. “It’s a bacteria, so a shot of penicillin should do the trick; since she’s no longer milking it’s likely some dormant bacteria, so I’d recommend you let me come back and flush her udders, so she doesn’t have any future occurrences.”

His shoulders sagged with visible relief, and you wanted to pull him against you. You busied your hands with your kit instead, seeing if you had any penicillin on hand.

“Thank you,” he said, voice heavy. “I was … I was really worried. She’s old, I know that, but … I’m not ready for her to go just yet.”

“I think she’ll be with us for a while to come.” You stroked your hand along the cow’s back again, appreciating the velvet texture beneath your fingers. You smiled when she moo’ed happily.

“What do I owe you?” he asked. You waved your hand in dismissal.

“Don’t worry about it,” you insisted. “You’re always letting me try things at the market, anyway.”

“I need someone to test my cheese on,” he smirked now, the mood having lifted considerably and you laughed, remembering the sour taste of it that you couldn’t even pretend to enjoy for his sake. He ran a hand up the back of his head, and through his hair. “Well … if you won’t let me pay you, stay for dinner next time you come.”

Warmth rushed to your face, and you held his eyes for a long moment before you responded. It felt like you could find all the comfort you had ever yearned for within them, within him. You nodded. “I’d like that a lot.”

🐄🐄🐄

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add yourself to the tag list for this work!

#u asked and i am helpless but to deliver #i did not proofread this agshsj so if u catch mistakes lmk thats cool #farmer!din #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mywriting #HERE U GO LILS U HEATHEN

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paisley-print · 3 years

Text

Near The Water’s Edge: Chapter One

After fleeing your abusive husband, you find yourself in the small coastal town of July, North Carolina. Soon you meet Frankie Morales, Air Force Veteran and single dad. As the two of you grow closer, you begin to let go of your past and learn to love again. That is until a strange man shows up in town, and you 're forced to choose between your safety or the safety of the people that you love.

Inspired by the novel “Safe Haven” written by Nicolas Sparks.

Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Rating: 18+ / Heavy adult themes eventual smut.

Trigger Warnings: Domestic Abuse, Drowning, Dark Water.

Word Count: 1744

Note: I tagged everyone who liked the original posts. To stay on the permanent list please either send me a message or write it on the post. Enjoy <3

Series Master List

Chapter One

Aggressively American, that was the only fitting description of the place you found yourself in. July was a coastal town located in the southern part of North Carolina. It was pronounced like ‘Julie’ but nobody ever called it that. It had been the farthest place your two hundred dollars in cash could take you; and as the greyhound pulled away, you wondered if you should have chosen Nebraska instead.

It wasn’t that the town was dirty, quite the opposite actually...it just felt manufactured. Too perfect to be real. The streets were named things like Liberty and Independence. The shop fronts were brick and all along the main street there were American flags and flower pots holding red, white and blue geraniums.

The name Norman Rockwell came to mind.

As you walked along the main street, you surveyed the many shopfronts. To a passerby it seemed as though you were looking to buy something - in your mind, however, your thoughts were racing.

‘I made a mistake, I know I did.’ You analyzed the last few hours, replaying the memories over and over again as if on VHS; scrutinizing every last detail. ‘He would track me down, find me - by morning. Should I go back? No- it was too late for that.’

It was still early in the afternoon, but finding a place to sleep tonight was paramount. The trip had taken eleven hours straight through. Only ever stopping to change buses and refuel - you were exhausted and your muscles ached.

‘Food,’ you thought ‘I should eat…’

But did you have enough? Depending on how much a motel cost around here, you figured you would only have enough to cover a room for one night. So food would have to wait.

As you rounded a corner, you were met with the sight of the bay. It wasn’t anything like the brown water in New Jersey, the water here was a deep green. The boats created little swells along the surface, and the sun’s glint off the peaks made it look like the water was filled with emeralds.

On the left side of the street stood a marina and dockside restaurant. The smell of food made your stomach grumble. On the right side was a series of Victorian style houses, stone pillars and large porches dominated the structures.

A sign in front of one had caught your attention: American Dreams B&B.

‘Jesus’ you thought ‘they’re really leaning into this whole aesthetic aren’t they?’

A bell on the front door chimed as you entered. The decor of the place looked dated; as if it hadn’t been touched since the 80s. Lots of wood tones and floral patterns. You didn’t mind it though…. it made you feel at home.

An older woman was sitting at the front desk watching a soap opera on a little TV perched on the counter. She looked up and smiled as you approached.

“Hello there. How can I help you today?”

“Do you have any rooms open?”

“Sure do, we have three vacancies right now.”

Relief washed over you, “what’s the nightly rate for the smallest?”

“That would be the pink room at $175 a night.”

More than you had anticipated…. “All take it, thank you.”

The woman turned to the computer. The monitor was old and heavy- it looked bigger than the TV. “Driver’s license?”

You hadn’t even thought of that… “I don’t have one, would a birth certificate work?”

You cringed at the sound of it. Who carries around a birth certificate as identification? It was all you had, so you gave it to her, however you knew that the odd request made you stick out in the woman’s mind. Surely she would remember you if someone came asking…

The woman hesitated but took the certificate, reading it out loud “Summer Emma Sparks.”

You swallowed hard and shifted on your feet, feeling sick. The circumstances surrounding how you secured the certificate flooding your mind...

‘I needed it,’ you remind yourself.

The woman, whose name you found out to be Mae, handed you a key and sent you on your way. Now the plan would be to look for a job, something that worked off of tips. Having as much cash available to take with you at a moment’s notice was important. First, though, you would sleep.

And as the tide lapped against the boat dock across the street, you slipped into the darkest, soundest slumber you had in years. You were safe for the time being.

There was something to be said about the little joys surrounding small town life. In New Jersey neighbors barely knew each other, and would even go so far as to avert their eyes or turn their backs when passing them on the street. Here though, people were kind.

Too kind sometimes, always pressing you with questions...you couldn’t fault them for it though. If you were here under normal circumstances, you would have welcomed such friendly chatter. It almost pained you to be so dismissive, but you needed to be, for your safety and theirs. The less anybody knows about you, the better.

You set down a tray of empty cups and looked at the clock on the wall, debating whether to take another table. Even though your shift technically didn’t end for another twenty minutes, most of the night servers were already here and the day had been long.

You managed to get a job at the restaurant next to the marina on your second day in town. The owner suggested you start the following weekend, but you persuaded him to let you train that day just so you could get the free meal that they provided with every shift. The tips weren’t enough to buy a hotel room though, and so you had to sleep on the beach that night.

Thankfully, the tips for the last few days had been good, allowing you to buy a week in the bed-and-breakfast. Most of the servers at the restaurant were teenagers who could only work the evenings, allowing you to take as many morning and afternoon shifts as you wanted. Sometimes there would be another server with you, but most days you were alone. You didn’t mind one bit, the dining room was small and easy for you to handle by yourself.

You had your eye on a few rental properties on the far side of town. A mobile home community offering one bedroom complexes for dirt cheap prices. You were suspicious at first, but after taking a walk through the neighborhood you realized most of the people who lived there were snowbirds or weekend warriors.

Those residents who did live their full time seemed like you, friendly people who had fallen on bad times. They weren’t the confederate flag wielding, dip spitting, rednecks you first thought they would be; and for that you were thankful.

“Summer….. Summer.”

You turned suddenly, remembering that was your name. “Yeah?”

Your boss was holding two containers of soup “do me a favor and put these in the fridge before you go?”

“Of course,” you said, allowing him to pass the containers off to you.

The fridge was a separate unit out back; it looked like a little shed. From where you were, you could see a full view of the marina. It was set a little farther back than the restaurant. To the left, lines of boats bobbed up and down with the tide. There was a parking lot next to that, then at the very end was a house... or what you assumed was a house.

Elevated about six feet on stilts and spanning two stories high. It wasn’t anything like the grand Victorians that stood opposite of it. It was unassuming, modern and clean. Your eyes fixed on movement off to the side. Below the house to the right, you noticed a little girl. She had to be no more than three years of age, reaching for something over the bulkhead. A feeling of dread clutched at your stomach.

‘She’s going to fall’ you thought suddenly.

Both containers of soup hit the ground and exploded - painting the side of the building. You didn’t even notice as you sprinted down the shelled driveway towards the house. The splash came as soon as you threw open the gate and without even a moment of hesitation; you jumped into the water.

It was freezing, like little needles pricking your skin from all sides. The salt water stung your eyes like something wicked, but you forced yourself to keep them open. You scanned what was around you, murky green darkness and foliage that reached up from the sand like the tendrils of a kraken. Threatening to grab you and pull you down into its watery depths.

Your eyes landed on a flash of pink below. With all of your strength you pushed yourself forward, hooking an arm around the girl and bringing you both to the surface. Just as you broke through the world above, you saw a man skid to a stop and reach for the girl in your arms.

You gasped, and the little girl coughed and hiccuped... then started to cry. It was music to your ears; it meant that she was breathing. You held the girl up as far as possible; the man took her and moved away from the bulkhead.

“Make sure she’s okay,” you choked, the water assaulting your senses. You tread for a moment longer before the man reappeared and offered you his hand. You took it and he pulled you from the water easily.

Bracing yourself on the bulkhead you brought your weight over the rest of the way. The man immediately turned his attention back to the little girl, bringing her to his chest and clutching her as she wailed.

You blinked, hands coming up to rub the salt from your eyes, the world coming back into focus. The man was older, wearing a navy blue baseball cap and a grey flannel.

His brown eyes still held a spark of panic in them as he looked at you. “I don’t know how I could ever thank you enough….she was right there, then I turned around and….” He held onto her a little tighter and sighed, closing his eyes. The little girl was settling into a mess of sniffles and whimpers. “Don’t ever do that again, baby,” he breathed.

Tag List For This Chapter Only:

@heythere-mel @aquilacorvinal @krystlebee @pedro-pascal1503 @giizhkens-cedar @luckystrikesalterego @rayofhalsey @almost-golden-again @myheart-pedro @the-cosmic-ghost-18 @sewmanystitchssewlittletime @wwwbackslashcreedthoughts @anabundanceofmeg @petermj213

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#pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #triple frontier #Frankie fanfiction #frankie morales #Frankie Morales fanfic #Frankie Morales fanfiction #pedro fanfic #pedro fanfiction #nearthewater'sedge #frankie has a daughter #its basically canon at this point #so I stuck with it

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theymetinargentina · 3 years

Text

All the Stars | H.S. Imagine

Comments and requests are always welcomed:)

Masterlist

Summary: domestic Harry, husband!Harry, all that jazz

Warnings: Smut

Word count: 1.8k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Moonlight continued to cascade on his back. He had a concentrated look on his face as he tried to get the thing i begged for to work. “I can’t get this fuckin’ thing to work.” he scroffed.

“Harry you have to twist it,” I said while looking over the manual.

“I only do this for you my darlin’,” he peered back at me and gave me the cheekiest grin.

“I know you’re only saying that to get in my pants,” I rolled my eyes

“Absolutely not,” he sounded genuinely hurt, “Plus I wouldn’t even need to do that.” he grinned.

“Is that so?” I raised my eyebrow and chuckled.

“You’d come crawling on your knees for my baby.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, hurry and finish I want to see.” I stood up and walked to where Harry continued to work at the telescope.

He stepped back, “It looks like it should work,” yet he sounded unsure.

“Alright I trust you, now shoo.”

“Hey! I built the bloody thing, I would also like to see ‘all the stars’,” he teased with a grin. I merely scoffed at him and peered through the lens, letting out a small gasp.

“It looks beautiful Harry,” I exclaimed.

I moved to allow him a glimpse of the night sky.

“Fuckin’ hell, you can see everything,” he squited and hunched over the telescope while I hugged him from behind.

“We should get inside and get the table set for dinner.” I say into his back.

A few friends were coming over to celebrate a recent promotion I had gotten at work. Harry was estatic and insisted we have a celebration. Which meant we now had to finish cooking and get ready for guests. Something Harry wasn’t particularly fond of when having guest over.

“Just a minute, I wanna stay outside with you for a bit.” He hums. It was dark and there was a slight nip to the air but our warmth combined was enough for us.

He turned around and returned the hug. His warmth enveloping me whole. My check to his chest, I could hear and feel his heart beating. Even after all this years, through every argument, I can’t believe the amount of love I have for this man. Everything he does amazes me, the kindness and gentleness he has never stops surprising me. I truly don’t think he understands how big of a gift he is the world. How in awe we- his family, friends and even fans- constantly are of him. I don’t think he realizes how many people he has, and continues, to save. The fact that he does it all without asking anything in return for himself, somehow makes him so much admirable. ———————————————————— “I’ll take the plate, don’t worry about it,” I say as I grab his plate and take it to the sink. Not before he sneaks a slap to my ass.

When I turn to look at him, he has the cheekiest grin ever and giggles like a teenage boy.

I can’t help the smile that makes it’s way onto my face.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he grins, “especially not when you’re wearing a skirt that short.”

“Don’t slut shame me, you asshole,” I snap back playfully

“Baby I want you to dress slutty in front of me,” he hugs me from behind and slowly push’s his groin into my backside, “it makes my dick rock hard.”

I mhmm in acknowledgment. I decide to tease him back and slowly start to move my hips.

He groans and starts placing sloppy kisses along my neck, “babyyyy, if you keep doing that I’m gonna take you right here.”

“Do it,” I moan when he starts trailing his hand down my stomach.

Just when he’s about to reach the button of my jeans the door bell rings.

“Fuck,” he all but growls.

I laugh, “relax baby we’ll have time later.” I wink as I go to answer the door

“You absolute tease,” I hear him say.

—————————————-

We’re all three drinks in and it’s clear everyone’s starting to feel it. Harry is telling the story of the renovation we recently had done in the guest room, to which Jeff and Glenne listen to intently.

“Seriously, I’ll give you both the number to the company that did our flooring,” I say to them.

They turn their heads and smile at me, “That would be wonderful, thank you,” glenne says with a grateful smile.

Despite our time together, being around Harry’s friends never fails to make me nervous. I think a part of me is worried if they don’t like me, what Harry would do. Surely he’d pick his best friend and manager over a girl, right? My thoughts are interrupted when my close friend Mae asks Harry a question.

“Renovations in a new house, but no ring?” She has a playful tone and everyone laughs but Harry and I both look at each other slightly panicked.

It’s not that we didn’t want people to know that we had gotten married. But the constant questions and pestering became a drag to deal with. Which is why we choose to instead elope with only our familys knowledge. It was beyond lovely being able to experience the first few months of our marriage without the constant unwanted attention from everyone.

It was a secret between the two of us, something that made our love all the more special.

Harry takes a deep breath and looks over the Mae, “it’ll happen soon, don’t worry,” he grins.

“I’ve told you a thousand times Mae, we’ll go to a courthouse and that’s it,” I smile, knowing this is where we constantly lost everyone in our marriage plans.

Harry and I didn’t want the big wedding everyone dreams of. We were content with signing a paper and vowing to love each other.

“I love you both, but you kill me everytime you remind me,” Mae exclaims with a small smile.

Everyone begins chatting about weddings, in what I assume to be an attempt to change our minds.

After a few more drinks and a long discussion about what our next gathering will be focused on, our guests excuse themselves and leave one by one. ————————————— Up stairs, Harry and I began to get ready for bed. He managed to tuck himself into bed already while I wiped all my makeup off.

“I don’t know if I should keep letting my bread grow?” He wondered out loud.

“Yes!” I agreed a little too loudly, Harry’s facial hair was the source of most of our disagreements. While he preferred to stick to shaven or minimal stubble, I preferred his full grown beard.

He knowingly smirked, “I’ll keep it if it means I get to spend all day with my head between your thighs.”

“You won’t hear me complainin’ “ I mumbled.

“I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you?” He jokingly leaned foward in an attempt to look at me.

I turned off the light and walked toward our bed. Before sit at the end of it.

While crawling, “ I said I won’t complain about you spending all day between my thighs.”

He grinned again, “is that so?”

“Yup.”

I reached my hand under the covers and began to palm him over his sweatpants. He started placing kisses along my neck and jawline. When I gave a rather hard squeeze he groaned and looked at me, “I’m gonna cum in my pants.”

“And we couldn’t possibly have that hmm?”

“Absolutely not, I want to cum in your tight cunt.”

I moaned at his words and pulled him to get out from under the covers. He pushed me onto my back and began grinding his hips on mine. I reached for the bottom of his shirt and lifted it off him. While he broke away I began to strip off my bottoms and top.

He let out a growl when he saw I wasn’t wearing a bra and immediately began sucking on the area around my nipples.

“Harry..” I moaned

“Tell me baby” he replied, “tell me what you want daddy to do?”

“I want daddy to fuck me.” I boldly said

It’s light a switch flipped in Harry and he practically tore off my lace thong.

I pulled his underwear off and his erection sprung up immediately.

I almost drooled at the sight of his red tip dripping pre cum. I laid back down while slowly pumping him.

He threw his head back and gave the most angelic moan I have ever heard. The sight of Harry completely subbmissive to my hand was quite possibly the biggest turn on.

He wasted in no time and lined himself up, kissing me roughly and slowly easing in.

“Oh fuck...” I threw my head back in pleasure.

No matter how many times we had sex, Harry’s size never failed to surprise me.

“Shit baby you’re so tight,” he bit his lip and began thrusting roughly.

Our pants and skin slapping was the only noise in the room. A noise that had become a regular occurrence.

“Harder Harry.....fuck..”

“Yeah baby? You like rough? Like it when daddy fucks you with his cock?” He smirked and picked up his pace. He trailed his hand up from my thighs and wrapped them around my throat lightly.

“Mmmm....” was all I managed to get out.

He pressed his body on top of mine and bottomed out making me moan out loudly. I raked my nails down his back, knowing the marks would be there tomorrow.

He placed a kiss below my ear sending a wave of pleasure throughout me.

“Wanna get on top and ride my cock darlin’ ?” He whispered.

I nodded feverishly and pushed him to lay on his back.

I straddled him and grabbed his length lining him up, slowly sinking down. We both dropped our heads and moaned at the feeling of him being balls deep in me.

“Fuck, baby you’re cunt feels so good.”

“Mmm you like it?” I asked

“I fuckin love it.” I began moving my hips back and forth and then bouncing up and down; trying to find a rhythm that would push us over the edge.

My thighs began to burn so I placed my chest on Harry’s and he took that as his signal to do his part. He began thrusting up into me at a merciless pace. ‘Oh fuck’ was the only words I could seemingly get out, while Harry resorted to merely grunting.

I could feel him twitching inside me and knew he was close.

I began kissing all along his jaw and whispered in his ear, “cum in me, Harry, cum in your cunt.” This was all he needed as he bottomed out and groaned loudly.

I felt his thick ropes of cum coat inside of me. This pushed me over the edge, making me twitch on top of Harry and cry out.

I felt him soften but neither of us made any move. Our breaths were slowly going back to normal.

Finally I slowly eased off of him, whimpering at the feeling of being empty.

“Fuck, y/n, what the hell was that?” He chuckled.

“It was thank you, for everything.” I smiled.

“I love you.” “I love you.”

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starsstruck · 4 years

Text

cloudbusting; part three.

a classic coffee shop story. harry is a painter that quickly becomes a regular at his neighbourhood cafe, and it just might have something to do with a certain barista. bar run ins, shameless flirting, and paintings lessons at sunset.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, alcohol, sexual content words: 12.6k

series masterlist

art by holly warburton. (i have no vision for the mc of the fic, people in the images of paintings i use are purely because this is how i envision harry’s art to be)

a/n: i am very my excited to share this chapter, i hope everyone enjoys ! a big huge thank you to tina @sunflowers-styles and jill @havethetimeofyourstyles for helping me out and being the best ily💕💕

“I have two cold brews for here!” Calling out the easy order you just prepared, tight-lipped smile to the couple that picked up the drinks in front of them.

You had barely gotten much sleep the night before.

After your little breakdown, you ended up staying up late watching your favourite feel good TV show. And now you were working a long shift this Tuesday afternoon, annoyed by how busy it was, especially with the two deliveries that were bound to come any second.

Staying on bar to make drinks, not at all having the energy to stay at the register and talk to customer after customer.

Aleena understood more than most. She was happy to take till and let you be grumpy in the back, making drinks.

And it was the same thing the following day, except that you were working with Erinne and she was making you far too frustrated. She insisted on taking bar, and you had to run around her doing everything she was neglecting.

It was by the third day that week, that you finally got over your self-pity. Heading over to Mae’s and having a nice movie night with her.

As you often did after moments of indulgent crying, you recovered a few days later. A part of you knew that maybe in a few weeks or in a few months it would happen again, but that would be a problem for later.

But the week really turned around that Sunday night. After a week that lasted far too long, it ended with you sitting in a corner booth of a neighbouring bar with a wide grin spread across your face.

The weather was so lovely and the city so busy that the day had been nonstop. Working a long and tiring day, Aleena, Saya and you had all been eager to get a quick drink after locking up the shop.

The three of you always flowed well together, the two slightly older women being a blast to work with. A big reason why you always sneakily tried to scheduled the group together on weekends.

Now all seated with drinks in front of you, you were crushing the ice of your gin and tonic under your teeth that helped cool you down.

On top of a busy day it was so plainly hot out, and the heavy jeans you were wearing weren’t helping. You were happy to be sporting a short tank top, item that was previously under a light cardigan for the purpose of work.

Cardigan now in your purse, navy blue top being the only thing over your chest.

“Wait,” Aleena giggled, sipping on her mojito. “Did you hear what that guest said today?”

Chatting as you often did, sharing stories from shifts and odd complaints that you’d had from customers. “Which one?”

“Big group, the tall man with um,” Aleena paused, trying to remember. “Iced latte, no ice?”

You rolled your eyes at the ridiculous order, knowing very well how this story was going to end. “Said it was too warm – but no ice! He wanted a cold drink but we have to put a hot espresso shot in it. He got mad when I tried to explain it to him.”

“When was this?” You furrowed your brow, usually aware of whatever ridiculous reason a customer got mad.

“I think you were on your break,” Aleena thought it over.

Saya nodded along, agreeing with what Aleena said. “Yeah you were in the back – but it was so ridiculous! Wanted a refund and everything, but never ended up taking it? Even when we offered to make him a new one, he refused? I can’t deal with that.”

You watched as the two of them got annoyed over the situation all over again, completely reasonable in their frustration. “And it was busy too, he was holding up the line.”

It was just then that you caught sight of a familiar mess of dark brown curly hair, sitting on the opposite side of the bar from you. You squinted your eyes slightly, not sure if it was who you thought it was.

But then he turned his head the slightest bit, and you could make out the outline of his sharp features. The line of his cheekbones and then the dimple of his cheeks, lips spread as he smiled.

Quickly averting your eyes away from him, nearly hating the way you felt your body heat up at the sight of Harry.

Focusing your attention back to your friends, taking a big gulp of your drink. Still, you were unable to help the way your eyes trailed over to him every once and a while. He was with a few other people, you couldn’t see how many. Seated around a table in the far left corner, almost directly across from you.

You had no idea if he had seen you or not. But when you walked over to get another round for your group, you got very conscious about how you stood even closer to him.

As you got drinks for your colleagues, your phone starting vibrating in your back pocket. Mae’s name was flashing across the screen, missing the first call when you brought Aleena and Saya their drinks, but with a second call coming that had you scurrying out the heavy door to answer the call.

“Hey,” quickly speaking once you were tucked away in a corner outside the bar. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Mae’s laugh through the speaker calmed you down. “Yeah, sorry. I locked myself out of my apartment –”

She cut herself off. You were leaning back against the bricked wall, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

The loud chattering of a group walking past you overwhelmed your ears, and you were sure that Mae could hear them through the speaker.

“Are you out?”

“I’m just getting a drink – are you okay?”

“I locked myself out, really stupidly too. I was going to ask if you still had one of my spare keys but don’t worry! You’re out.”

“No Mae if you need me to –”

She cut you off. “Robin’s coming over, they have a spare key too. Don’t worry!”

You bit your bottom lip, stifling a laugh. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s such a nice night out, and Robin’ll be here soon. Have fun tonight!”

When she was reassuring you, your eyes flitted over to where a new person joined you outside. There were two groups of people standing together, sharing cigarettes and biding their goodbyes to each other. But as you glanced up at the new figure, your paused when Harry shot you a small smile.

Narrowing your eyes on him slightly, still on the phone with your friend. “Okay, well let me know when you get in. And really if you need me, I can be over with your key.”

Mae agreed that she would, and you were soon hanging up the call to glance back up at Harry who was lingering by you.

“Hi,” you finally spoke, feel heat rush to your face. You felt a bit sweaty, almost clammy in the warm summer night.

“Hi,” he breathed out, mirroring your words. He didn’t move from where he stood, watching as you walked over to stand next to him. “Thought I saw you earlier.”

“Yeah I’m with some people from work,” jutting your thumb out to point over you shoulder in the general direction of the door.

He nodded, glancing to where you pointed as if he could see through the wooden door. “Long day?”

“Very,” you sighed. “People are crazy.”

There was a slight pause, Harry shuffling on his feet while you stood straight, one hand tucked into your back pocket where you had just placed your phone.

“Were you heading home?” Asking after another few seconds, finding the silence heavy but neither of you moving away.

“No actually, not quite yet. I saw you head out – in fact I thought you were leaving. Just wanted to say hi,” he stumbled over his words slightly, eyes gleaming down on you in the dimly lit street.

“Just a phone call,” you broke out a small grin.

“Saw that,” he mirrored your expression, now that you were smiling at him. “I wanted to talk to you – I don’t know if I upset you or fucked up when I stayed past closing last time but I really didn’t mean –”

He cut himself off, and you couldn’t help but feel your smile grow at his words, watching his expression twist to confusion at your reaction.

“It’s really okay,” you couldn’t help the laugh that was bubbling up in your throat. “I’m not – never was – upset with you. Was just a bit of an off day, or couple days.”

Harry’s shoulder dropped, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Okay, I wasn’t sure if maybe you felt – well anyway. Sorry I haven’t been in to the café either, I was – well I was worried you were upset with me.”

Bottom lip lodged between your teeth, feeling blood rush to your neck when he apologized for not coming into your work all week.

“But, are you alright?”

You nodded, your little breakdown the previous week nearly laughable to you now. It might have been because of the drinks you had already had, but you found yourself especially now in a particularly good mood.

It wasn’t that you felt better about your situation by any means, it was more so that you had risen above your wallowing enough to be happy with what you were doing. Plus, it was healthy to have a nice big cry once and a while.

“Yeah, god it’s kind of silly. Just had a bit of a panic. You know how it is; was just too in my own head.”.

Harry’s smile was still wide on his lips but little furrow on his brow as he probably didn’t understand your ramble much less than you did. “Well,” he bit his lips together. “Hope your feeling better.”

You nodded, returning his smile as a small silence settled over the two of you. You were still tucked away in the corner, off the main part of the sidewalk with Harry a good arms length away.

Attention pulled away at the shriek of a laugh coming from a woman who was sharing a cigarette with a man nearby, Harry’s voice soon interrupting your brief distraction. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Gaze meeting Harry’s once again, not hesitating before answering. “Yes you can.”

Leading the way back to door of the bar, Harry holding it open as he walked in behind you. Your eyes drifted briefly to where Aleena and Saya were still siting, seeing them deep in conversation.

The bar currently wasn’t too full, some people seeming to have filtered out. Harry leaned forward, an elbow against the counter, looking back at you. “What did you want to get?”

“You choose,” you replied, seating yourself on an empty stool near where he stood. His mouth dropped as if to speak, but he quickly shut it with a curt nod and turned back towards the counter. He settled himself onto the stool next to you, knee bumping yours as his legs spread.

Getting the attention of one of the bartenders, telling them your drink orders. “Two whiskey sours, please,” he cast you a quick glance from the corner of his eye, before his attention turned back to the bartender who told him his total.

Reaching for his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and tapping his card on the terminal while the bartender prepared your drinks. “Did I choose well?”

“I don’t know,” you hummed. “I’ve never tried a whiskey sour.”

You leant your body closer to his, turning in your seat so that you were facing him. “It’s a bit bitter – if you like espresso I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“Espresso is not supposed to be bitter,” you spoke without missing a beat. “Supposed to be balanced, and all that.”

“Yours is bitter sometimes.”

Your mouth dropped open. “It is not!”

“Sometimes,” he stressed, gleam in his eyes. “Don’t give me that. You’re still my favourite barista.”

“Good,” you muttered, small smile on the corner of your lips as his words rang through your head. The bartender placed two drinks in front of you, both quickly thanking them.

“Cheers,” tapping the tip of your glass with his. You both lifted the rims of you glasses to your mouths, Harry holding it there for a second as he watched you take a sip. The dark bitter liquor easily slid down your throat, and you kept your lips together as if that would hold in the taste.

He followed after you took your first sip, tongue darting out to quickly lick his lips before biting them down together. “So,” he spoke after a moment of watching you. “Did I choose well?”

“I think so,” you hummed after a second, going in for another sip.

Harry held onto his cup, busying his hands. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous with you all the sudden, as if he’d never been able to hold a conversation before. He was cautiously aware of the way his knee kept jutting out and hit yours, and the way that your hand brushed over his arm when you dropped your glass back on the counter.

“Did you need to head back to your table or …?”

He watched you turn your head, chin above your shoulder as you glanced behind your back. He followed your gaze, eyes focusing in the dim light to the table he had seen you at before. The two other baristas who you worked with were laughing.

“Don’t need to, no,” you hummed, facing forward again. “Think I’m good right here.”

His chest warmed at your voice. “What about you?” His eyes met yours when you spoke again. “You need to head back?”

Harry glanced back to the table he had been at, now filled with a new group of people. “My friends left already.”

You simply nodded once, taking another sip of your drink. Harry was worried about the silence in conversation, unsure of why he couldn’t think of anything to say to you –

“How’s your art going?”

Your words eased his nerves the slightest bit, blinking before he looked away from the glass in his hands and at you next to him. “Good –” he cleared his throat. “Good, yeah. Finally started working on something new.’’

“What is it?”

“It’s,” he brought his free hand to rub at the back of his neck. “It’s still in the works – I’m not too sure how its all going to turn out yet.”

You took another sip of your drink. “Is it what you’ve been working on when you come into the coffee shop?”

“Knew you’ve been spying over my shoulder,” he chuckled. “But yes. Like I told you last time – I like getting inspired by the space and all that.”

You weren’t sure if he was going to say more, watching as he brought his glass to his lips. “What about you? Ever do much painting, or anything of the sorts?”

“God no,” shaking your head, leaning your elbow against the bar. “I think last time I tried anything like that was years ago. I’m no good.”

He smiled, knee bumping yours. “Don’t have to be good to paint – it’s nice to just have fun with it.”

“That’s true,” you hummed. “Guess I never really thought about it; I clearly haven’t done it nearly enough.”

He glanced down for a beat. “If you want –we could paint together sometime.”

“Yeah?” You felt your chest heat up at his words. “That could be nice.”

His eyes settled on yours again, smile widening. “Glad to hear it.”

Swirling the liquid in your glass, before tipping your head back and taking a big sip. The affects of the liquor with the few drinks from before were slowly catching up to you – you weren’t drunk by any means but one might say you were starting to feel tipsy.

“I have a confession,” licking the liquor from your lips as you placed the glass back on the counter.

Harry leant forward on his elbow a bit, eyebrows rising slightly in curiosity. “Tell me.”

The corner of your lip grew as you felt yourself warm under his gaze. “I might have … already seen some of your work.”

“What?” He laughed, shaking his head slightly. His cheeks were rosy, and eyelids slightly heavy in a way that made you think he was probably a bit tipsy as well. “Where?”

“I – I happened to find your Instagram.”

His eyebrows rose even further, beaming smile on his lips. “You happened to find it? How exactly?”

“Not important,” you hummed, leaning your head on your hand as you tilted away from him.

“Okay,” he drew out the word. “And what did you think of what you found?”

Meeting his gaze again, turning in your seat so that your body was angled towards his again. “I liked it.” Answering simply.

“You liked it?”

You nodded, searching for the right words. “I don’t know a lot about art and all that. But I did like it, a lot. So colourful and just – well just nice.”

Mentally cringing to yourself at how poorly you had explained yourself. There was a smile on his lips as he listened to you, only glancing away to sip his drink.

“Thank you, really. Hope you’re not just saying that,” he teased.

“If I had hated it would’ve told you,” you deadpanned, smile in your eyes.

Harry laughed, head tilting back a bit. “Glad to hear it.”

Laughing lightly along with him, feeling the heat in your cheeks from the alcohol. “What about you?” Harry asked after a moment. “How’s the coffee game?”

“Oh,” you swung your foot from your stool. “Coffee game hasn’t changed.”

“You said you’d been working there for two years?”

You were surprised he remembered. “About two years there, yeah. But I’ve worked in a few other coffee shops as well, basically through most of university and since then as well. Ever since moving here I guess.”

“What did you study in college?”

“Poli sci,” you paused. “Not getting much use now.”

“That’s okay,” Harry shrugged. “No learning is really a waste, right?”

“Right,” nodding, realizing you were nearly done with your drink and not wanting to talk about college. “Can I ask you something?”

“Course,” he watched you.

“Who’s your favourite artist?”

Harry beamed. He didn’t answer right away, swirling his glass in his hand. “So I don’t have a single answer for you, tough to pick just one.”

You nodded, waiting for him to keep speaking.

“I really like the colours and the shapes of like, late impressionism. Like Matisse. But I also really like the theory, I guess, of mid 20th century artists. Identity of the self, ones around you – oh! Also Hopper – makes me a bit sad but in a good way, you know?”

You listened along, not having a clear mental image of everything he was talking about but liking to see how he talked about it. “I also really like Georgia O’Keeffe.”

That name you knew. “She did all those flower-vagina paintings, right?”

Harry chuckled; eyes cast down for a second. You were sure it must have been in the dim light of the bar, but you thought you saw the tips of his ears redden. “I mean, yes.”

“Again, I just really like the way she’s able to create her composition, the way everything is so layered and blended. Just – really nice form I guess.”

He fell quiet for another moment, and you weren’t sure if he was done speaking. “Sorry that didn’t make much sense; seem to not be able to explain myself very well right now.”

“Don’t apologize,” you shook your head, finishing off what was left of your drink. “I like hearing about it, I wish I knew more about art.”

“Never too late to learn,” he grinned. “Plus, you seem to run a pretty tight ship with those paintings that rotate throughout your shop.”

Unable to help the laugh that bubbled from your throat, head tilting back and eyes gently shutting.

“I told you,” jutting one of your legs out to lightly swat at his chin with your foot. Your leg lingered next to his, leaving your foot on the rest of his own stool instead of bringing it back to your own. Harry watched as you scooted forward on your stool slightly, elbow on the bar shifting as you as you edged closer to him. “I have nothing to do with that.”

He mirrored your laugh, eyes briefly glancing down to where your leg rested next to his, before back up at you. “I never heard from them, by the way.”

“I’m sorry,” you paused. “Maybe try again in a few weeks?”

“Maybe,” Harry shrugged, though he didn’t appear that torn up about it. “Did you want another?”

Your gaze fell down to where his ring covered finger was pointing at your now empty glass. You quickly thought it over, knowing that one more drink would be fine as you weren’t feeling the liquor too too much. “Are you having another one?”

“I could,” Harry grinned, empty glass in front of him as well.

You slowly nodded. “Okay – let me get this one though.”

Harry shook his head. “It’s no worries, really. You can get it next time.”

You bit your lips together at the suggestion, unable to help the small curve in your lips. “Okay,” slowly speaking with a nod to your head. “Next time you come into the coffee shop I promise its on the house.”

Your feet fell flat on the floor of the bar, standing up. “I’m just going to head to the restroom,” you hummed, taking a step forward and letting your hand fall onto Harry’s shoulder for a light moment. “You can choose again.”

Harry’s eyes were stuck on you as you sauntered off, hands sliding in your back pockets with your elbows jutting out, the same way you did when you walked around the café.

You checked your appearance in the dimly light washroom, using toilet paper to blot at your sweaty skin. The bar was hot and humid, and you felt particularly oily after a long shift.

After leaving the restroom, you walked up to where Aleena and Saya still sat, small wave in their direction.

“What happened to you?” Aleena laughed, knowing very well she had seen you at the bar.

“Ran into someone,” you replied, shooting a quick glance to where Harry sat.

“Isn’t he a regular?” Saya followed your gaze, before turning to you with a little smirk. “Espresso over ice, right?”

You didn’t say anything, sure your expression gave it all away. “Sorry to have left you guys,” you said instead, feeling a bit guilty but knowing very well they didn’t mind too much.

“No, no it’s okay,” Aleena was sliding out of her chair, rising to her feet. “We were about to leave soon. You stay, have fun.”

You grabbed your purse that was still sitting with them, happy to have remembered that you had left it there.

“You’re both off tomorrow, yeah?” You already knew the answer, always good at remembering who was working when, especially since you made the schedule.

They both confirmed what you already knew, grabbing their things as they walked with you away from their table and towards the exit.

“I’ll see the two of you in a few days then! Have a good time off.”

After biding goodnight to your colleagues, walking over with purse in hand to go join Harry once more. “Sorry about that,” you hummed, sliding back into your seat next to him. “Just saying goodbye to my friends.”

“No worries at all,” his eyes fell to yours once you were seated. You didn’t miss how his stool seemed to be much closer to yours this time, legs resting inches apart.

“Got you a long island – figured you’d like it since I see you drinking so much iced tea.”

Again a bit impressed that he remembered, you were very much appreciating a long island ice tea. Taking a big gulp, letting the slightly sweet liquid easily slide down your throat.

Conversation fell easily between the pair of you, inching closer to each other all over again. Talking to Harry was so easy – and every time he sent you that dimpled grin you felt your head spin.

Your skin was sticky from the hot night, and you found yourself wishing you could be wearing a dress or shorts or anything but the thick jeans you had on from work. Also, as Harry’s knee bumped yours for the thousandth time under the bar, this time resting against yours instead of moving back, you found yourself wishing there were less layers between your skin.

You soon found yourself with a glass half empty, leaning forward with your head resting on your hand and elbow just against Harry’s arm on the bar.

“Hope I haven’t been keeping you,” Harry murmured, gaze heavy on yours.

“Haven’t,” shaking your head. You had no idea what time it was but the fact that the bar had significantly emptied clued you in enough. “Though I do think I should be heading home soon.”

His hand fell to his lap, sliding it over his leg and closer to where yours rested against it. “Let me walk you.” He squeezed your knee.

You cast your eyes down, quick glance to where his hand rested on your leg. “That would be nice.”

His touch lingered on you before pulling away. You saw his eyes fall over your face when you stood from the stool and reached for your bag that hung hooked under the bar. Grabbing your phone from your back pocket, quickly checking the time. It was nearing one in the morning – you were surprised by how much time had gone by.

You felt woozy – your lips bit between your teeth and hair sticking to your skin. Harry had gotten much closer to you through the night, and you him, and all you could think about right now would be what it would feel like to finally have him properly hold you.

Harry stood to his feet next to you, hand reaching out towards you as if to rest on your back, but seemed to decide against it. Still, he hovered close behind you as you headed out toward the door.

Swinging your bag over your shoulder, walking through the thick wooden door into the cooler night air. Harry quickly joined your side, lazy grin on his lips. “Are you cold?”

“No,” shaking your head, you watched as he neared you and stopped when he stood by your side.

“You’ve got goosebumps,” Harry’s voice had dropped, as he brought a hand to trail up your arm, letting it rest lightly on your shoulder. His hand was warm and heavy on your skin – if you didn’t have goosebumps before you were sure to now.

“Oh,” it was all you could manage to say.

You were unmoving on the mostly empty sidewalk, a bit tucked away in the corner by the same place you took your call earlier that night. His hand slid on your skin, feet moving on the pavement so that he stood closer to you – close enough that you could smell the liquor on his lips and something else, maybe it was his cologne or his detergent or just something that was making your head spin.

“Did I tell you how good you look tonight?” He murmured, like honey in your ear.

All you could manage was a small shake of your head.

“You look so good tonight,” his voice somehow even lower, breath hitting your skin. His hand slid across your shoulder, resting at the crook of your neck with his thumb brushing over the skin under your jaw.

Every one of your nerves was on fire – your senses overwhelmed with the man in front of you.

“I’m wearing my work clothes,” your eyes narrowed on his slightly, feeling his other hand grip at where your jeans ended and a small sliver of exposed skin rested. His fingers hooked through one of your belt loops, tugging you gently against him.

“You look good at work too,” he breathed.

You saw him unashamedly staring at your lips, eyes cast down as his fingers gave your hip a small squeeze.

And then your back was arching in his grip, hand sliding to grab at the neckline of his shirt. A quiet short gasp was sound from your parted lips when your mouths finally met.

Harry’s lips were soft and firm, drawing you in closer as they slotted on yours. Hand wrapping around the back of your neck, the thumb under your jaw was pushing your head to tilt towards his. His other hand was toying with the flap of the pocket on your jeans, tugging on the material as his legs bumped with yours.

His lips nudging yours, mouth parting slightly. Your free hand mirrored the other, gripping onto his shoulder to wrap him closer to you. He pulled you in deeper, tongue brushing yours. He tasted slightly bitter like the liquor you had drank, and like bittersweet chocolate – he tasted like a perfect balance.

Feeling your stomach flutter when Harry let out a shaky breath against you, pulling away for a brief second with a small bite to your bottom lip. Peeking your eyes open, seeing his darkened eyes opened as well. His pupils were slightly blown, cheeks reddened and lips kissed raspberry red.

Your name was a whisper on his lips, before he was pulling you in for more. His hand left your hip for a brief moment, walking you backwards until his hand met the wall and he pressed you against it. Your mouths were greedy, wet and hot.

You passed a little whine from your mouth to his, his chest covering yours as his hand slid around the exposed skin at your midriff. He had your body pinned with his, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were melting into the wall with the way he felt against you.

“I think –” you mumbled after a moment of heavy breaths. “I should head home.”

Harry pressed another kiss to your mouth, lips smacking together. “Yeah – okay,” he pulled only his head away, dipping down for a second with his forehead against your cheek. “I’ll walk you.”

He pulled away, slowly, from you. Hand sliding down your arm until his finger tips toyed with yours, tugging you away from the wall with him.

When you started the walk, it oddly felt like something so natural. Like you did this all the time, side by side. His arm kept brushing yours as he kept close to you, hand dancing with yours but never quite grabbing it.

The bar was both close to your work and your place. An easy fifteen minutes before you were slowing down in front of the steps that led to the door of your apartment.

Pointing up at the building, stopping in the street and turning to Harry. “I’m just up here.”

He finally grabbed your hand. Pulling you in close to him, heavy eyelids trained on you. “Happy I ran into you tonight,” he hummed, bottom lip between his teeth. “You’re not working tomorrow, are you?”

You nodded. “I open tomorrow.”

“Open?” His eyes widened, voice rising. “Fuck I’m sorry –”

“Not your fault,” you laughed, cutting him off. “I wanted to stay.”

He was quiet for a second. “Don’t you have to be up in like, five hours?”

“Something like that,” you pressed your hand to his chest, just as you had when you kissed him. “So I’m going to head up.”

Leaning forward, bypassing his mouth and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you.”

You didn’t get much sleep, but this time it was okay. You weren’t in a bad mood, and your opening shift went off without a hitch.

Happy when Dani shuffled in, your first customer of the day. You handed him his crossword puzzle and hopped on making his drink, hands working on autopilot.

“Late night?” Dani asked, when you brought him his coffee with a stifled yawn.

“Something like that,” you hummed, placing his drink on the table in front of him, and taking a moment to sit across from Dani and sip on your own.

Another early morning face you saw that Monday, a surprise to you considering it was just past seven, was Harry.

He had his squared sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose, hair tousled as if he had woken up and let if fall wherever it pleased; a look you found yourself very much enjoying.

He had on small black running shorts and a grey shirt, an outfit you could only describe as athleisure. It was for sure an outfit that you had never seen on him, one you didn’t even imagine possible, but one you quickly grew a liking to.

He walked over to the counter, eyes flitting over to where you were sitting with Dani.

“Someone’s trying to take your attention away from me,” Dani laughed, head nodding Harry, seeing him patiently waiting for you with a small smile on his lips.

“The nerve,” you joked, knowing very well that Harry could hear you in the almost empty café.

Slowly rising back up to your feet, making the short distance across the floor until you were facing Harry form the other side of the counter.

Giving him a wide smile, tilting your head to the side. “You’re here early.”

“Going for a run,” he motioned to his outfit. “Needed a little coffee first, I didn’t get much sleep last night to be completely honest.”

You bit your lips together. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I would’ve brought you a coffee but …” he trailed off, motioning to the espresso machine that sat on the opposite side of the counter. “That didn’t make much sense.”

You laughed lightly, eyeing your mug that was still sitting on the table in front of Dani.

Harry continued. “I also seem to remember you saying something about a coffee on the house?”

Your eyebrows rose. “Oh, so is that the only reason you came in?”

“Helps, doesn’t it?”

“Well if that’s the case,” you laughed, waving to the machine that sat a few feet away. “What can I get for you?”

“You choose for me.” He grinned, repeating your words from the night before at the bar.

Bottom lip lodged between your teeth, you weighed your options. You scooped some ice into a to go cup, before pouring in some cold brew that you had brewing previous day.

“This is one of my favourite roasts,” you hummed, sliding the cup over to him.

Harry grabbed the cup form the counter, piercing a blue paper straw through the lid. “I trust your judgment,” he nodded, lips circling around the straw with his eyes on yours. You watched as he swallowed the chilled liquid, toothy grin on his lips. “Fruity.”

“Very fruity.” You confirmed.

Harry was quiet for a moment, before speaking up again. “I should get running,” Harry took another sip of his cold brew. “But I’ll be seeing you soon.”

“Is that a threat?” You joked after his emphasis on the words.

“It’s a promise.” You didn’t know if it was imagined because he was turning away, but you were sure you saw him shoot you a cheesy little wink.

He waved bye to you, waving to Dani as well who seemed confused by the action but still returned the goodbye.

And true to his words, Harry was back two days later.

It was Wednesday afternoon, and he came in wearing brown trousers and a white shirt that had the word ‘sex’ on it. It was odd, and you briefly wondered what possessed him to buy the shirt, but you didn’t question it.

He waved hello to Aleena who was training a new staff member and walked up to where you stood by the furthest counter near the back door, currently slicing up a loaf of banana bread. “Hey!”

“Hi,” he stood opposite side of the counter as you, watching you place your knife down and grab plastic wrap to secure the sliced pieces.

“What brings you in today?” You asked, as if there wasn’t an obvious answer.

“Many reasons, actually.” He raised an eyebrow. “Main one being I wanted to ask you something.”

Your smile grew. “And what is that?”

“Well I remember you saying something about wanting to try out painting with me sometime.”

“I think I did say something like that. Why?” You teased, leaning forward on the counter in front of you with your arms crossed over your chest.

His hands were fiddling with the rings on his fingers. “Well –” he cleared his throat, “do you think that sometime could be soon?”

“Yeah? Like when?”

“Are you closing today?”

“Nope, actually I’m off at six,” you glanced at the clock. “A bit of a different shift since we’re training,” nodding your head back to the new staff member that was watching Aleena steam milk. “Good for me, since I don’t need to close.”

“And…” he paused. “Are you doing anything afterwards?”

You mulled it over, already knowing your answer but wanting to leave him hanging the slightest bit.

“I am not,” you finally spoke, smiling lightly. “I think I can make it work.”

Harry smile widened, tapping his hands on the counter. “Music to my ears.”

He glanced at the clock behind him, seeing there was about half an hour or so until you were free from work. “Did you need to go home first? I was thinking we could walk right over to my place when you’re off.”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself. “To change? My clothes are a bit covered in grounds.”

Wiping your hand over your front, flicking off the stray coffee grounds that always ended up on your clothes, today’s victim being a loose denim dress that hit the spot below your knees.

Following as Harry’s eyes fell over your outfit, lingering on your body for a slight moment. You couldn’t help but warm slightly under his gaze.

“Whatever you’re comfortable in,” he shrugged. “But for the record, I think you look great.”

“Thank you,” you murmured. “Think I should be good, though, to head over. Did you want a drink, while you wait?”

He nodded, dimples never disappearing from his cheeks as he didn’t cease smiling. “Maybe an iced tea?”

You saw him reach for his wallet, and you shook your head. “On the house, remember?”

Making him an iced tea with no sweetener since you didn’t take him as the type to want any, handing him the glass with a green paper straw. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”

The next thirty minutes went by fairly quickly, showing the new hire, Andy, the first steps of a closing shift. It was at two minutes until six o’clock, when you headed to the washroom in the back.

Hand over your hair to fix it up, and swiping the skin under your eyes to wipe off the mascara that was a bit smudged.

Glancing down at your jean overall dress, the thin straps dipping a bit low. Other than that little detail, you didn’t think that the loose fabric that hit below your knees was that attractive. It was comfortable, to say the least, but it wouldn’t be something you wore on a date – or what you assumed might be a date.

But Harry’s words from before floated across your mind, and you told yourself that it was fine that you didn’t look the best you possibly could. You were just nervous.

Harry noticed you walking out form the back right away, standing to his feet to join you. You yelled a bye to Aleena, no missing the way she waggled her eyebrows at you and Harry.

He didn’t live that far away from the coffee shop – something that was no surprise to you. The walk was just over twenty minutes and a few stories up in the older looking apartment building.

He held the door open for you, as you took in his place. You always loved seeing people’s places, especially those of people closest to you. You may or may not have been caught snooping a few times in cabinets, something that you wished you had some shame in but really you were just a bit nosy.

He had wide windows on one side, something that you thought was supremely ideal and incredibly stunning, you believed that when the sunsets occurred the whole room must shine a hue of orange. Near the window were stacks and stacks of canvases, leaning against the wall, with an easel standing on the ground amongst smaller nearly blank canvases resting on it.

There was a little table with a jar that had brushes, two sketchbooks, and a canvas bag. He had a box that appeared to be filled with tubes of paint, and a table lined with item after item where you couldn’t even begin to think about what their purpose could be.

Underneath a corner in his studio, was brown paper spread over the floor, no doubt to protect it from all the splatter.

“This is a nice place,” you finally spoke after a moment of kicking off your shoes and peering around the space.

“Yeah, I really lucked out,” Harry placed his bag on the chair by the door. “Do you want me to show you around or…?”

You pointed to where the paintings were stacked, already catching a glance at some. “I want to see those.”

He chuckled, walking over as you followed. He began flipping through them, once and a while stopping to pull one out. They were all around the same size, quite big, and about the size of an average coffee table.

“These are my favourites,” he watched you as your eyes rested on the paintings that were now fully facing you, propped up against the wall.

You had to agree with him, although you hadn’t seen all of them. They looked even better in person, leaving you a bit lost for words as you felt a bit dumbfounded. They all had big patches of colours, something you recognized from when you took a peek at his Instagram.

Your favourite one had what appeared to be two people in it, both standing on opposite sides of the street. The buildings in the back were painted mixes of blue and green, the sky dark behind them. The people themselves had little detail, faces hidden with the most focus on their clothes.

Realizing you had been quiet for a moment, you turned to Harry, who was steadily watching you. “They are much better in person,” was all you could find yourself saying. “I – I really like them.”

Harry had a small smile playing on his lips. “Thank you,” he hummed, nodding appreciatively.

“Is that what you’re working on now?” Pointing behind him, to where he had what seemed to be yet another black sketchbook out on the floor with a few almost blank canvas around it.

“Yeah,” Harry hesitated, not moving. “But too much of a work in progress – not ready to be seen by anyone yet.”

“Of course,” nodding, as a quick movement near the ground caught your eye. Realizing the sight before you, mouth dropping open a bit.

“And who is this,” your voice rose an octave, dropping down to rest your elbows against your knees.

A small calico was padding across the floor, deep brown eyes focused on you as it tentatively made its way towards your extended hand. The cat nudged your hand with its nose, before taking a few steps closer to you and letting you scratch the top of its head. “Aren’t you the cutest.”

“She’s very needy,” Harry stood next to you, watching as you got acquainted with his housemate.

She moved closer to you, butting her head against your shin. She had very quickly gotten familiar with you, eyes shutting with small purrs coming from deep in her throat as your nails scratched over her neck.

Turning your attention to Harry for only a second, glancing up at him from where you were kneeling. “What’s her name?”

He grinned down at you. “Cherry.”

“Cherry,” you cooed, full attention back on the calico by your feet. “Oh, you’re so full of love.” Speaking to the cat, letting her rub her head onto your arm.

Realizing after a moment that you were getting far too distracted by the cat, giving her one last ear rub before standing to your feet. “Sorry,” you smiled. “I think I love her.”

“Don’t apologize,” he chuckled, bending down himself as she was finally saying hello to him. “She loves a cuddle.”

He easily scooped her up, bringing her up until she was held against his chest. His hand easily covered her, fingers moving through her fur.

There was something about seeing Harry’s wide chest with a little cat against it. Something you had never thought would make him that much more attractive. It was just the juxtaposition, his hands grabbing her entire frame, making her appear much smaller and him that much broader.

“What?” Harry’s laugh cut through your thoughts, making you realize you had been quiet for a moment too long.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, taking a step forward and brought your hand up to the little cat’s head. “She’s just too cute,” scratching your fingertips along her head once again, nails scratching over Harry's shirt-covered chest every so often.

When Cherry started to squirm in his grasp, he lowered himself slightly, letting her jump from his arms and skillfully onto the ground.

“Did you want anything to drink, or eat?”

Shaking your head, thinking about the coffee after coffee that you pounded back at work, and the bits and pieces of baked goods that you snuck for yourself. “I’m good, thank you though.”

“Want to get to some painting, then?”

Smiling over at him, not missing the way that the little calico was still demanding your attention by your legs. “I would love to.”

Harry shuffled some things around, seeming to pull out a second smaller easel from a closet to the corner, fumbling around with the clasps and settings on it until it was resting upwards, closer to the ground. You watched, not really knowing what to do, as he did the same with the other easel, moving it on the ground as they sat next to each other.

“Thought we could sit on the floor –” he turned back to face you, loose curls falling over his forehead. “If you want to stand that’s okay too.”

“Floor’s good,” you grinned, taking a step over to where he was setting everything up. He was digging through a box on the table, pulling out some paint tubes and brushes.

“Thinking we could use acrylic,” he talked, and you weren’t too sure what he meant so you simply nodded. “I usually do oil but it’s a bit tougher to handle, especially if you’ve never used it before.”

“Okay,” the word sounded so small in answer, you wished you had more to add but in all honesty you never thought much about the different types of paints.

“For you,” Harry stood again after laying out a series of tubes on the floor next to the easels, motioning to the spot. “Let me know if you want a pillow or something, or if the ground is uncomfortable.”

“Should be okay,” you stepped over onto the brown paper covering the floor, noticing specks of dried paint already splattered over it. You adjusted the hem of your dress when you sat down, small bend in your knees and your feet flat on the ground.

Harry left for a second, rusting in the closet to the side once more before he came back with two smaller canvases. “Primed and everything,” he placed one in front of you, and for him as he settled down on the floor next to you.

“Thank you,” smiling over at him, not touching anything he put out and keeping your hands clasped together.

He seemed to notice your hesitation, handing you a small flat brush. “Use whichever colours you want,” he spoke slowly, motioning to the tubes next to you. “A palette out for you and water is in this jar.”

Nodding again, flipping the brush between your index and middle finger on instinct. “What should I paint?”

Harry laughed. “Absolutely anything you want,” he opened a tube of yellow, squirting some out on his own palette in his hand. “Whatever comes to mind.”

“What are you going to paint?”

You saw his bottom lip jut out slightly, thinking back to when he had kissed you a couple nights ago and how that lip was between your teeth. “No fun in telling you right away, you’re just going to have to wait and see.”

Laughing lightly, you decided to grab the first colour that came to mind: blue.

You didn’t really have anything in mind, thinking that maybe you should listen to Harry and just follow whatever you felt.

Harry started right away, easily mixing a deep yellow and crimson on his canvas that turned into an orange that was nearly too bright. He wasn’t paying much attention, though, watching you from the corner of his eye.

You had your head tilted down, arms resting on your knees with one hand perched down, mixing some blue on the palette. With your bottom lip between your teeth, and a little furrow to your brow, you grabbed some yellow, and then some more blue.

You were swirling the colours together, resulting in a brighter blue, and you brought the brush up to the canvas. He saw you hesitate again, tip of the brush not making contact with the white canvas.

“Don’t think too much about it, love.”

The pet name slipped past his lips easily, not even thinking about it. Your attention turned to him as he spoke, and he didn’t miss the way that the corner of your lips turned up, before you bit said lips together.

“Okay,” the word was a quiet murmur, as your attention was back on the canvas, you painted a thick blue line right on the left side.

After that, you seemed to ease up a little, mixing various hues of blue, not really having a plan as you painted them over and next to each other. You didn’t really know what you were doing, but you were enjoying yourself.

It was therapeutic, the way that the thick paint smoothed over the canvas in the same way that an espresso shot poured so fluidly into a mug.

You were catching quick glances at what Harry was doing every once and awhile, seeing him add blue shapes on the opposite side to where the orange was.

It was like that for a bit, and you didn’t know how long. A nice calm atmosphere around the both of you, with small snippets of conversation here and there.

Your painting wasn’t advancing that much, but you seemed to have some big aspects going on. A dark, maybe angry, blue on the bottom of the canvas, and a light and deep toned one on the top.

As you kept glancing over to Harry, you realized that he was painting two sets of hands, nearly grasping each other but not quite yet. You were quietly amazed by his skill.

After another period in silence, with the only noise coming from outside as the window above your head was propped open, you felt Harry start to shift from next to you. First, he stretched out his legs, and then his arms.

And then you heard the paper under you rustle, Harry moving to his knees as he shuffled closer to you. You were watching him from the corner of your eye, trying not to pause in your movements to avoid showing that you were paying any attention to him.

Feeling his presence linger, you finally cast him a glance over your shoulder. Still not speaking as you silently held his gaze, watching his eyes stop over your lips for a moment before looking past at the canvas in front of you.

“Can I –” he leaned in closer to you. “Show you a few techniques?” His voice was smooth in your ear, not really asking a question as the shirt over his chest brushed your back.

You simply nodded, mind reeling a bit as his lips lingered near your ear.

It was then when he lowered himself from his knees, seating himself behind you. Your movements froze, not fully able to see him as you sat still, and faced forward. His legs widened a bit as he sat back, slowly unfolding one at a time and placed his feet on the ground, bent at the knees and loosely casing you in.

Your skin jumped under his touch when a hand was wrapping over yours, leaning his body in even closer so that his chest was fully pressed against your back. You could feel the small puffs of air leave his nose that hit the top of your shoulder.

He guided your hand down to dip the tip of the brush into the mixed paint by your side, moving both of your limbs together. “Just like,” his voice was deep and quiet in your ear, moving your hands back up near the canvas. “Just like this.”

You didn’t dare look back at him – knowing that one glance would have you gone. You were sure his eyes were glowing and that he had that dumb little smirk on his lips; his lips that were oh so pink and slightly wet from how much he bit them.

Just the feeling of him gently pressed against you, chest digging into your back slightly deeper every time he moved your arms together, was making your head spin. You could barely pay attention to what he was doing to the canvas, solely focused on the feeling of his skin on yours.

“Just like that,” he murmured deep in your ear, bit of stubble scratching your skin when his chin moved forward to rest on top of your shoulder.

Nearly dropping the paintbrush when his hand let go of yours, catching it in an awkward manner. He slipped his hand away, sliding it up your forearm until it rested lightly over your elbow. His other hand was still resting by his side on the ground, and all you wanted was for his arms to squeeze around you while his thighs did the same.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, forcing your attention back to the splotch of colours that stood in front of you on the canvas. You were painting continuous little blue lines along the right side, layering the slightly different shades.

It was when you had started to focus a bit more on the darker colour you were mixing, that Harry’s chin moved from your shoulder. Instead, you felt his nose brush over the crook of your neck, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine which you hoped he hadn’t noticed.

Though you know he did. And when he placed his lips on your skin and whispered ‘just like that’ one more time, you became putty under him.

You tried not to appear affected by him, you really did, but you also didn’t know how it could be physically possible to focus on anything other than him at the moment. The brush stilled in your hands, arm resting exactly where it was and halting in all movements.

His lips were moving down the nape of your neck, small barely-there kisses that were like whispers over your skin. The hand on your elbow slipped under your arm, gripping your waist with his fingers bunching into the baggy material of your dress.

A whisper of your name onto your skin was all it took. Your eyes pulled away from the mess of blue on the canvas, having to lean away from Harry to properly gaze over your shoulder at him.

Eyes heavy on yours, gaze sharing unspoken words. You watched his eyes drop down without a shame to stare at your mouth, dilated pupils tracing the soft curve of your lips. You couldn’t help but wet them under his intense stare.

The sight of him blurred as he neared you until your eyes shut and his lips covered yours.

Your neck was tensing from the uncomfortable position, tilting around your shoulder, but when you tasted Harry again you didn’t care.

His mouth took your bottom lip between his teeth, grazing over it before releasing it and he craned his neck further around your shoulder to properly kiss you. His hand grabbed onto your dress, holding the fabric tighter in his grip.

Kissing Harry again felt even better than the last time. Even in the nearly painful position, you wanted to pull him in closer and deeper and not be able to know where you ended and he started.

He was warm and bright just like the hot August evening, beaming like the sun through the window. He drew you in closer and made you feel so at peace – at this moment you couldn’t remember ever feeling stressed.

A gasp escaped from the back of your throat, Harry’s mouth moving over yours in slow and deep movements. Like last time, he eased his way into your mouth slowly, savouring your taste. Tasting like coffee, and something sweet he couldn’t get enough of.

Legs that rested by your sides closed in on you a bit, squeezing your hips when he turned in to try and rest even closer to you. The position was awkward, the brush still half hanging in your hand, while your other hand moved around behind you to lace through Harry’s hair.

He was kissing you deeply, tongue delving in against yours. Although you were in close proximity with his front pressed against your back, you wanted to be closer. You wanted to be on top of him, or vice versa, you wanted to be able to feel his weight against you.

As if reading your mind, Harry parted your lips with a light pant, eyes fluttering open as he licked over his moistened lips. Slowly releasing you from his grip without a word, scooting back a bit until not a single sliver of skin was touching yours anymore. You felt him grip the paintbrush from your hand, leaning across the floor to place it in the little jar of water he had set out.

“Turn around for me, love.”

Skin warming at the tone of his voice and the words he was saying. You decided he could’ve told you anything in that voice and you’d easily listen.

You shifted forward a bit awkwardly, with your hands on the ground beneath you to hold you in place as you moved around on your bum until you were facing him.

He looked stunning in the warm glow of the sunset, orange beams pushing through the window and kissed the tip of his cheek. His hair was a bit tousled from your hand that had run through it, eyes dark and intent on yours and lips begging for more.

He sat an arm length away, raising his right hand as if to cup your face but he let it hover by your side. Your skin burned to feel his touch on you. “I’ve got paint on my hands,” he murmured, eyes glancing down. “Already got some on you.”

“I don’t care,” your own hand reached out for him. Curving it around his neck, pulling him closer to you until your lips were once again connected.

Harry shifted closer to you, hand resting by the crook of your neck while the other was placed on your knee. Wet lips were greedy for each other, licking deep into your mouth as he let out a shaky breath through his nose.

The hand on your knee squeezed it, thumb brushing circles onto the skin. His touch was sending sparks under your skin, and all you wanted was to feel more of that.

And when his hand slid up the slightest bit up and his lips enveloped your bottom lip, the softest moan escaped past your parted lips and Harry knew he needed more as well.

“Can you lay back for me.”

His own legs rested by your side, slowly lifting himself to his knees. His eyes were heavy on yours, watching your head slowly nod as you leaned back on the hand behind you.

The hand that was resting by your neck slid down your arm, holding you as he eased himself down, letting your back hit the floor under you. His legs extended out next to yours, shuffling himself so that he had one between your own before he moved to hover over you. One hand keeping himself slightly at level, he pressed the rest of his body down on yours until your lips were reconnected.

“Are you comfortable?” A quick kiss to your lips before he lifted his face away, eyes flicking between your own.

You quickly nodded, swallowing a breath as your fingers held the material of his shirt. “Yes.” Moving your hand from his bicep up around his neck, fingertips tapping lightly against his collarbone. Some loose curls were falling over his forehead and were pushed out of the way when you brought your hand up to run your fingers through them.

Running your nails over his scalp, lowering his head down to yours until your lips met once more. It was slightly different this time; hotter, a tinge of desperation behind both of your movements. Every touch of his skin on yours was sending a bolt of pleasure straight down to where you craved him the most.

The breathing in the room growing heavier, your whines laced with the small puffs of air. His own lips slid to your jaw, then to your neck where he nipped the spot right under your earlobe. Committing you to memory, capturing every inch of your skin, and every sound you made.

He still had a hand resting by your knee, having slid up along with the hem of your dress just hitting the middle of your thighs, as if about to ask if he could move his hand further up, lips parting against yours.

You sucked in his bottom lip between your own, teeth grazing of the thin skin as if giving silent permission. He pulled away slightly, eyelids flitting open. His eyes darkened, voice husky in your ear. “I – I need you to tell me what you want.”

“Please,” mouth searching for his once again. You circled a hand around his neck, pulling his lips down to yours. His hand holding himself up found your arm by your side, trailing his fingers along your forearm until your fingertips were intertwining. “Just – anything.”

Pulling your hand up along with his, keeping it down on the ground above your head, his lips slid away from yours again as he pulled a whimper from your throat, hot breath hitting the side of your neck.

“Still got paint on my hands,” he rasped as his lips brushed over the skin under your earlobe. “Getting it on your thighs.”

“Don’t care,” repeating your words from before with a lift of your hips.

The slow-building ache between your thighs was at an all-time high, as you were hyper-aware of Harry’s hand that was pushing under your dress. You felt an involuntary buck of your hips as he shifted over you, thigh brushing over where you wanted so badly to feel him. “Oh.”

Eyes falling to Harry’s, catching him already watching you. He had that small lift in his lips, the subtle smirk as he knew what he was doing.

And then he was dipping his head lower again, as his hand rose higher on your thigh, pushing the denim of your dress up along with it. His nose skimmed the edge of your dress strap, nudging it aside before his lips kissed over your collarbone.

His fingers were inching their way up your leg, tips just brushing over the corner of your thigh. He was moving oh so slowly, while his lips hotly kissed and sucked on your skin.

He moved the fingers that were still intertwined above your head down, letting go as he let you reposition your own hand through his hair. His fingers were quick to touch your side, fiddling with the hem of your dress that was moved up significantly.

Lips breaking away from your skin, gazing up at you through heavy eyelashes, you nearly had to look away by how intense his gaze was, but you were worried about what you’d miss if you did.

Both hands now on either thigh, edging the fabric of your dress up while his eyes didn’t waver from your own, lifting your bum the slightest bit to help move the material up, until he caught sight of your blue cotton underwear and the fabric was gathered just above your hips.

Suddenly Harry was shuffling down your body, paper rustling under his knees, his forearms pushing at your thighs. When you felt his breath hit the crease of your skin, you were scrambling to prop yourself up on an elbow.

You watched him rise to his knees and then to his feet, watching the slight confusion dawn your features as he quickly walked through his apartment and over to the couch that sat opposite to you. He didn’t leave for long enough for you to even begin to shuffle up, quickly reappearing with a plush blanket in hand.

Soon finding himself in the same position he was previously, not before plopping the blanket down on the ground and guiding you to move your hips on top of it.

“More comfortable this way,” he chuckled at your expression, hands quick to grab at your skin once more.

He pushed your legs further apart, bending at the knee as your legs butterflied. He kept stealing glances at you, making sure he wasn’t pushing you too far.

“What are you,” you paused, swallowing a thick breath as your mind was unable to focus on a simple thing other than the fact Harry was hovering dangerously close to where you were aching. “What are you doing.”

“Paint,” was all he said, lips wet on your skin. “Can’t use my hands.”

Sliding his body the few more inches he needed for his mouth be level with the inside of your thigh, pulling a shaky breath from you as he lowered his lips. His lips grazed right over the skin of your inner thigh, leg jolting at the touch.

“Can I?” his voice rasped deep from below you, hot breath warming your entire body. “Tell me if I can.”

You needed to swallow a heavy gulp before answering, unable to believe the anticipation that was building. “Please, yes.”

A high gasp sound from your throat when his lips closed over your clothed core, pressure against your clit. His hands that had been holding your thighs apart moved over your hips, the cotton of your underwear between his thumb and index finger.

Lifting your hips, your own hand coming down to pull at the fabric of your garment, Harry was quick to take hold of said hand, wanting to be the one to undress you. Inching the fabric off of you, he eased your thighs to bend, making it easier to fully discard the thin material.

Moving your hand to rest in his hair, hands on your thighs again with his eyes skimming over every inch of skin in front of him. You were wanting to watch his every move, and tightly shut your eyes. You decided on the former, fingers locking tightly in his hair as his lips skimmed over the sensitive skin of your thighs once again.

Harry was reveling in the sight before him; having you spread for him with the sunset casting a golden glow all over your body. Your dress bunched around your hips, cunt glistening, eyelids heavy and lips wet as you breathlessly panted his name. “Harry.”

“Fuck,” he muttered against you when he finally got his first taste. You were wet, so wet, and perfectly sweet.

Your back arched at his first touch, tongue lapping over your folds. His forearms still over your thighs, pushing them further apart to spread you open.

The sound you made when he repeated the motion, this time seeking out your clit, told him that he was successful in doing so. Your hips jolted slightly at the feeling, breathless whimper escaping your mouth as he paid close attention to the sensitive bit of nerves.

You were certain you felt yourself leaking as Harry experimented with your clit, gently and then roughly pushing the tip of his tongue against it.

“Oh...!” Mouth gaping open when his lips circled around your clit, cheeks hollowing as he lightly sucked. He repeated the motion, tongue lightly flicking over the nub before he pulled it between his mouth.

You lifted your head when his lips retreated from your clit, sucking into the skin of your thigh once again. Unable to take your eyes off the way his cheeks hollowed and his dark eyes remained intent on you as if you would disappear if he looked away.

Tongue licking up to your wet hole, saliva mixing with your arousal as he poked his tongue past your entrance. He had you pushing your hips up against him, nails digging into the skin on his neck while his tongue worked inside of you.

“Oh, God.” It was heavenly.

He worked slowly against you, tongue pushing up against your clit in a way that made your back arch of the mattress as you desperately needed more. “Harry –”

His lips circled around your swollen clit, eliciting a sharp cry at the end of your praise. Fingers pulling tightly in his already messy locks, not caring about the roughness of your actions in the moment. All you could focus on was how you felt completely on fire by the way Harry touched you.

He hummed against your heat, likely muttering something that you couldn’t make out. He sent vibrations all through your body, shooting up your spine and making your mind melt. You knew you were slick, probably embarrassingly so, but the way Harry was burying himself between your thighs left you without a care.

“It’s good?” His hot voice pulled your focus back onto him, glancing down when his tongue licked up your folds again, pushing through on every spot until your legs kicked slightly when he hit your clit. “Feels good?”

He moved his head away, hovering just over you with a lick to his lips. “So good,” you whimpered into the air, craving to feel him on you again. “O-on my clit again –”

You were cut short when his mouth kissed over you again, lips parted until they found their place around your clit, this time sucking harshly as he gaged your reaction.

His arms were still holding your legs parted, fingers gripping tightly into your skin there were sure to be crescent moon shaped nail marks indented into your thighs. His tongue was dancing patterns on your clit, pressure going from light to rough within a matter of seconds.

Listening to every heavy breath, every small gasp, and every light moan that was being pulled from your chest, Harry was memorizing every move he made that you reacted to.

You swore you could feel his lips curve to a smile when his tongue delved back into you, licking along slick skin while his nose nudged your clit. The small movement had you pushing your hips up, his tongue digging into you.

And then he was tugging on your clit again, pulling a deep moan from low in your throat that had him wanting to hear nothing else.

There was a fire in the pit of your stomach, chest heaving as you felt a slow build of your climax. Thighs pressing against his hands as you seemed to be unable to keep them still, completely focused on the way his tongue was quickly working against you.

Clenching around nothing, your back arching as you sought him out. “Need something,” you babbled. “Need more.”

He only muttered against you, not wanting to break contact from your heat for a moment too long. “No hands,” was all he said for a moment, the noise of his mouth wet on your cunt making you lose your mind.

“Know you can do it,” he moaned after a moment, encouraging you as he wanted nothing more than to see you unravel under him.

He worked with skill against you, making it his mission to see you cum for him. He knew he was getting you there, your breathing getting heavier and your grip getting tighter in his hair. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how you would sound when you came.

Getting you close, words starting to babble from your lips, pleads laced with praises and small cries that he could barely decipher spurred him on.

“I’m –” you gasped, eyes squeezing shut at the fire that was about to burn out of your core.

“Go on,” he urged, voice quiet as he didn’t want to take his lips off you for more than a second. Tongue circling around you quickly before licking quick patterns over the sensitive spot of your clit that made you call out his name.

“Oh…!” Mouth hanging open when you came against his mouth, his hands releasing your legs the slightest bit as they tried to squeeze close around his head. Hips jolting up with a rise of your bum, your hands tight in his hair.

The sound of your moans filled his ears, knowing that this was now the best thing he had ever heard. His tongue slowed around you before he pulled his head away and watched in awe at the sight in front of him. Your chest was heavily rising, lips wet and bit darker with your eyes closed shut.

The pleasure coursing through you slowly subsided, daring to peek an eye open at Harry by your thighs. He had a lazy smile etched across his mouth, and you watched his tongue dart out to lick his wet lips. His cheeks flushed red and hair disarray, as you slowly let go of your grip on his head, arms falling to your side.

The sun had set past the building outside, the light that was previously golden orange was now a hazy blue, casting darkened shadows under Harry’s features.

He lifted himself to his knees, stretching his arms out as he kept his eyes on you with a wide grin.

“Is,” you were the first to speak, propping yourself up on your elbows as you fiddled with the hem of your dress, not before noticing the blue and orange paint that was in fact smeared on your thighs. “Is painting always like that?”

A breathless chuckle escaped his parted lips, and he was suddenly hovering over you again. “Painting has never been like that.”

#hi #i really hope everyone enjoyed <333 #please rb and share and let me know what u think !!!! happy reading #cb #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine

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