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politemenacephd · 5 months

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Arachnophilia (Part Three)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Contents (part three): Mating cycles, rutting, P in V sex, monster/human relationship, breeding kink, oral (reader recieving).

You're a new recruit to the spider society, and you've just been sent on your first mission on one condition: Do not contact Miguel's variant in this universe. When your mission goes wrong you break that rule very quickly, desperate for help, only to find that Miguel's variant here is not what you expected. He's stoic but kind, awkward but sincere, and he's also an enormous human-spider hybrid: a drider, both human and arachnid. You decide to continue seeing Miguel in secret, with the rest of the society unaware. You really want to stay friends after all. That is, until Miguel suddenly goes into a rut. Word count: 6836 notes: smut starts now pls enjoy lol

You didn’t tell Miguel about his variant, nor did you tell anyone else.

You didn’t know exactly why Miguel didn’t like him. Mig had suggested that it was some territorial display, but that seemed hard to believe. You supposed you would just have to live with the curiosity. You knew that any questions you asked Miguel would result in getting stonewalled, or worse, may lead to them finding out you’d broken a direct order.

So you kept your visits secret, and you kept them frequent, because in truth you liked this Miguel a lot. You certainly liked him more than anyone in the HQ. Not to say you disliked your other colleagues, but you enjoyed your time with him in a way you never had with them.

Miguel was strangely sweet. He was incredibly awkward, clearly lacking much social interaction since his unfortunate splicing incident, but he did his best to be kind and accommodating.

You spent full days when not on call just hanging around in the glade with him. At first you just talked, but over time you started getting up to more.

He took you on trips to the top of the forest where you could see the stars, even letting you ride on his back when you got tired. You sat beneath silk shields while it rained and dozed off at his side. You helped brush out the abdomen fur he couldn’t reach, and he in return helped massage your wrists when they got sore from webbing.

You brought him food and tech for him to experiment on, and he in turn brought you little items made of his silk. One time you mentioned that you’d run out of socks so he knitted you a pair, and another time he patched up your suit for free. He always said you attention was payment enough.

You’d started calling him Migs, and he’d started calling you ‘arañita’ as a show of friendship.

You were quickly falling head over heels for the man. He was undeniably handsome and just so attentive to you in ways no one else had ever been, it was hard not to crave him.

Today you were prepped to leave as usual. You hadn’t been called for any missions and you could see your superiors were also free, meaning they’d definitely get picked first if anything happened, making today a sure write-off.

In a quiet corridor you began inputting the location of Mig’s universe. You weren’t expecting anyone to come by here, but you were very unlucky.

‘What are you doing?’

You jumped as a man’s voice barked behind you. That voice was uncannily familiar now.

‘A-Ah, boss, hey!’

You spun to find Miguel staring down at you with his usual sour expression, his lips pursed and brows knotted. Nowadays he always seemed bothered by something. You offered him a polite smile.

‘Is- is everything okay, or—’

‘What are you doing?’

His bark of an order made you freeze. God, he was so different to your Mig. Spider Miguel almost never raised his voice. He was quiet, stoic, awkward but trying his best to be empathetic. This Miguel seemed so tightly wound in comparison.

‘I- I’m just, going home’ you said, shiftily hiding your watch. Miguel narrowed his eyes.

‘Why are you up here?’

‘I’m just… I’m just, getting out of the way so I can send a few messages before going’ you said, your politeness beginning to slip. You didn’t appreciate his prying.

He took a step closer, boxing you into the corner. You felt so small in his presence.

Then, to your confusion, he closed his eyes and breathed. It wasn’t normal breathing though, oh no, this was deep. It was long, drawn out, deliberate. Was he, smelling? Was he smelling you?

When he opened his eyes again, they were burning red, their light reflecting onto your cheek.

For just a brief moment your gut knotted with anxiety. Why wasn’t he moving? What was he going to do? You realized that in your attempt to be alone you’d wound up in a corridor corner with no other spiders around. How had he even known you were here? Was he following you?

‘Hmm.’

To your relief, Miguel grunted and withdrew. He looked even more tightly wound than before. ‘Just- be, safe’ he mumbled, and without another word he stormed away. His body looked rigid.

You wasted no time in drawing up a portal the second he was gone.

On the other side it was a beautiful evening, with the sky above radiating soft, deep shades of indigo and red. You hurried into the forest with just the light of your watch to guide your way.

You tried your best to forget Miguel as you followed the usual landmarks to Mig. The mushroom patch by the dead stump, the little winding brook you had to jump across, the patch of stones which you’d stacked to look like a tiny house.

Why was Miguel acting so weird? He’d never paid attention to you before. You’d felt like a fly in his space, an annoying gnat he was trying to push off onto anyone else, so to have him cornering and questioning you was absurd.

What had changed? Did he somehow know you were visiting his variant?

You frowned at that thought. Jesus, you weren’t a child. You didn’t have to obey him, this was your private, personal matter. Mig was your friend. You had a right to see him.

At last you entered the big clearing where you and Mig usually met to hang out. You were surprised to see he wasn’t there.

‘Mig?’

You called his name and kicked a few stones around. Where was he? You cried his name again and spun in a circle. ‘MIG! Mig!’

A soft, sweet breath suddenly hit your nape. You froze up.

You could feel his shadow at your back. You could feel the weight of his body, the brush of his breath. You could see the little hint that his eyes were close, as tiny, reflected shards of red light began to dance over your shoulder.

You grinned and spun around, wrapping your arms around his waist. You squeezed in tight to that familiar body.

‘Mig! You—ARGH!’

With a groan your body was smooshed into the dirt. His entire monstrous form came down on your frail chest, pinning you to the ground. His clawed human hands found your wrists and your throat, holding them in place, as his abdomen came down on your lower torso. He rustled slightly against you as you wheezed.

‘M-Mig?’ you croaked.

Your eyes met. His were burning red, almost bloodshot, wide and dilated. He panted on your face, his fangs bared. He hissed.

‘You… You…’

He panted those words a few times. He was shaking, you realized, like he was holding something back at great physical expense. After a moments silence he grunted and physically forced himself off.

‘Mierda- mierda, ah- I’m so sorry, arañita, I’m- so sorry.’

You shuffled into a sitting position. ‘Mig? What- are you okay?’

‘You need to go’ he insisted. He was pacing wildly now, drifting closer to you before hurrying back. It was like some invisible force was driving him back to your body.

It was only then that it clicked. The tension in his body, the heavy breathing, the dilated pupils and twitching abdomen. Your spider senses picked it up quickly once the panic died down.

‘Oh, you’re—’

He was rutting. Of course he was, you thought, as your face burned up with embarrassment. He was a spider after all. He was in breeding mode, and your presence must be an unbearable distraction.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t- want to conduct myself, poorly’ he grunted.

‘No, it’s okay- you, I mean you’re doing fine! I get it, it’s not your fault, you’re- you’re you, I get it. I can um- I mean is there anything I can do? To help? I could—’

You tried to take a step forward, hoping to comfort him by taking his foreleg paw, but he pulled away. He’d never pulled away from you before.

‘No, that’s not- you, you’re making it worse’ he blurted.

Instinctively you frowned. ‘I’m- what do you mean I’m making it worse? I’m not, trying to—’

‘I’m sorry’ he blurted again, his hands raised. ‘I’m sorry, arañita, you- mm, fuck—’ He paused to scrape his claws down his face. They didn’t break the skin but it was clear he was trying to claw back some control. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. You’re right. You haven’t done anything. It’s not your fault, but you—’

He put his hand to his mouth, his eyes turning to the side. He looked horribly embarrassed.

‘You, you’re…’

‘I’m, what?’

He rubbed his jaw and groaned a little, as if it was painful to admit. ‘You- you’re in heat’ he hissed.

You blinked at him, too shocked to reply right away. ‘I… I’m, wh- I’m what?’

‘You’re in heat, arañita’ Miguel repeated through gritted teeth. ‘You’re- ovulating. I can smell it. The- you’re letting off, pheromones, and it’s…’

‘It’s setting you off’ you said, your voice wheezing as you said it. Miguel gave a mortified nod. Now both too embarrassed to face each other you turned and stared into the forest, your arms tightly folded as if they would hold you together.

‘I’m sorry, Mig, I didn’t—’

‘You have nothing to be sorry about’ Miguel insisted. You began tapping your foot.

‘You- I would have understood, Mig. I DO understand. You could have told me.’

‘You’re my friend’ he insisted. ‘I didn’t want to make things weird, but I can’t… God, you smell so, good—’ Your heart thudded a little harder as Miguel turned in a circle, trying to hide his arousal.

‘I’m a pervert’ he hissed. ‘I’m a- filthy, pervert—’

‘What? No, you’re—’

‘I can’t lie.’

You paused at Miguel’s aggressive interruption. You could see his claws were out, his hands trembling as he struggled to maintain this polite conversation.

‘I can’t- lie, even if I wanted to. It’s not in my nature. So listen to me. Listen to me clearly.’

You slowly nodded and settled down on the earth, bidding him to continue. He swallowed hard. It was clearly hard for him to get out, but as another breeze blew your scent into his nose something primal overtook him.

‘All I can think about, is breeding with you’ he rasped. ‘I want you to have my babies, arañita. All I want to do is just- tear through those clothes, and taste your pussy, and web you down so I can penetrate you. I want to- feel you, from the inside. I want to fill your tight little cunt with my seed and plug you so no one else can have you. I want my genes in you so much it hurts.’

You felt your face getting warmer with each word. You were a little offput by the feel of your own clit throbbing in response to his fantasy.

‘If you stay, I won’t have any control. My- urge, is burning me up. So, please…’

With a soft whine he shuffled again, trying his best to not get erect as your dizzying scent filled his nose. You watched as he tried to turn away.

He was giving you the chance to leave. You could go, now, and presumably return when his rut had died down and your ovulation had ended. You could go and pretend this never happened.

That’s what he was offering. But, is that what you wanted?

Part of you was afraid. You didn’t know what would happen if you stayed, and yet, another part of you was deeply curious, and that part was being fed by your fear. You didn’t want to admit it, but the fear aroused you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to leave. Instead, you began to tread the waters of this strange, unbroached pool, coaxing a little more.

‘Why me?’

He turned at your question. It was clear that it was getting harder for him to resist the urge.

‘Is it, just- I’m close by and I’m in heat, so… You know, I’m just- convenient?’

‘No. No, arañita. You’re- perfect’ he murmured, his voice dipping into a slight moan. He seemed like he was on a hair trigger, physically straining under the weight of his own lust.

‘You’re in heat, yes, but it’s more than that. I like you, you’re- kind, and powerful, and thoughtful. You have spider genes, like me, so- we’re genetically compatible. And you’re- you’re, so, small.’ He whined on the word small, like it did something extra perverse to him. ‘Small, safe, strong, beautiful. Unbred.’

He crept a little closer and you sank into the floor, letting his body overshadow your own. He was shaking with intensity, crawling on his belly like a dog begging for scraps.

‘You’re too perfect, you are- priceless. Mi tesoro. I would do anything to have you. Which is why…. Please, I can’t—’

He turned again and physically bit his lip. You could feel his tension like a force, as if just his desire to grab you was manifesting in the air.

And yet, still, you refused to leave.

You couldn’t help it, something about him enticed you. Perhaps you were sensing his hormonal changes as well, and it was swaying some deep and primal part of your mind. Perhaps you were just horny.

But god, you were a pervert too. The idea of that massive man in all his monstrous glory holding you down and taking you in the dirt was so incredibly arousing.

And it’s not like you weren’t attracted to him outside of that. He wasn’t a normal man, but he was ruggedly handsome. You liked his face. You liked his chiselled jaw and open, honest eyes. You liked his thick, stocky, muscular body.

There was an allure to him, one you were quickly realizing might just be enough to make you stay.

You remained seated in the dirt beneath him, and gradually he began to turn back. His eyes widened. You hadn’t left.

‘Are, you—’

‘I can… at least, relieve some of that tension, maybe. If you wanted’ you murmured.

He moved closer on instinct. You could sense the tension in his body as his spider legs tapped back and forth. He was holding back the urge to do something. Web you down? Grab you? All those ideas excited you.

‘I would be a good mate’ he whispered as he bent down towards you. His legs folded so his torso could find yours, his clawed hands cupping your face. ‘I’m strong. I’m fit. I have good genes. Our babies would be well cared for.’

You knew his hormones were compelling him to speak. You didn’t know how to say that none of that stuff bothered you, that all you cared about was letting this ruggedly handsome beast rail you into the dirt until you couldn’t feel your legs.

‘Can- I mean, can we, actually… Are we compatible?’ you whispered.

‘I have some- adaptations, but, yes. I can attach the genetic package to my pedipalps and transfer, or…’ Almost shyly he moved upward, showing off his abdomen. ‘As a partial human, I could… May I show you?’

You gave a quick nod. He looked a little embarrassed at first, but in the heat of the moment he caved.

A small slit widened on the abdomen beneath his torso, right between his two smaller forelegs. The black and red fur parted to reveal an erect phallus. It was red with black veins, long with a slight curve and a thick point at the end.

‘With you, I can just… transfer directly.’

You felt your whole body throb at the sight. Without thinking your hand drifted forward, measuring his erection with your fingers and palm. You almost choked; he was huge. You wrapped your fist around the thick, girthy, veiny shaft and gave it a soft stroke.

‘Ah- mi arañita—’

Miguel’s lips fell apart at your sudden touch. His whole body shuddered and jolted, trying to push it into your hand. You gave in to your own throbbing clit and gingerly gave it a lick.

‘A-Ah-! F-F-Fuck—’ His mouth widened with a mixture of shock and excitement, as the brush of your tongue caused his fangs to flex and involuntarily squirt venom down his jaw.

His whole body shivered with excitement as his phallus throbbed in your hand, precum pooling from the tip. You tasted a bit of that too; it was strangely sweet.

‘Okay, okay- careful, arañita, I don’t- I’ll ravage you if you keep this up. I don’t want to hurt you. Let- let me do you, instead’ he whined.

‘Do, me? How—’

You squeaked as he tripped you, causing your body to fall into his outstretched human arms. With his spider legs he began to draw a line of silk, carefully knitting a kind of sticky hammock for your body to lay on top of. He dropped you into it the second he was done.

‘Come here, mi cariño.’

He bent until his human half was against your belly, his lips kissing from your navel to your inner thigh. You shuffled on the web but its light, sticky coating kept you stuck on your back.

He cupped your lower back in his clawed hand, drawing you up. With your legs now on either side of his head, he buried his face into your clothed pussy.

‘Mm…’

He breathed in deep, letting those sweet pheromones only he could smell fill his brain. His erect phallus throbbed.

‘You- smell so good.’

With his fangs he grabbed and tore a chunk of your suit aside, revealing your panties underneath.

‘H-Hey--!’

In his ravenous, pussy drunk state he didn’t even wait to remove them. He wound his tongue under the fabric and snuck a taste of your clit, eagerly lapping at the sensitive folds beneath. Your body shuddered with pleasure.

‘F-Fuck- careful, ah-‘

‘Need—more—’

With a hiss he pulled back. He allowed his claws to slice your suit from crotch to neck, splitting it open. In seconds your whole naked body was on display.

‘H-Hey, woah! I need that!’

‘I need you- please, fuck—’

His whole body shifted closer as he began to ravage every part of you he could get at. You felt his clawed hands squeezing and pinching your belly and waist as his lips caressed your chest, eagerly sucking on and biting at your nipples.

He ran a line of kisses down your body to your thighs. There, with one final, guttural growl, he tore your panties aside. You felt him breath in your scent. One deep breath in and one deep, hot breath out, one that caused your hips to squirm at the sensitivity.

‘Mine.’

With that final word he buried his face into your cunt. You let out a breathy scream, one that was quickly drowned by the empty forest. No one would hear you here but him.

Miguel continued to let out muffled groans as he sucked on your clit. He settled with his nose gently bumping the tip of your lips as he lapped at that sensitive nub, his head bobbing with each hard movement as he savoured the taste.

You were embarrassed at how quickly he managed to hit your spot. Your body was already hot and tight from just the thought of this, but the taboo of letting this monster touch you like this in the open forest was making you so much hotter.

You knew you shouldn’t be doing this. You had no idea what he could do to you, but that made it so much better.

Your skin was flushed, beading with sweat, and your clit was swollen to the point that it hurt. It was throbbing with a carnal need to be pleasured, and right now his tongue was doing a heavenly job of easing that ache. Now trapped in his web with his lips on your cunt, his gorgeous face perfectly framed between your thighs, your climax was inevitable. It rose up like a wildfire.

‘Migual- fuck, I’m gonna—’

With a soul-shattering shudder you came on his tongue. Your hips bucked with each flood of pleasure, your body jolting against your will. Your mouth fell open and a low, desperate moan left your lips, all while Miguel continued to suck on your clit.

‘Oh, fuck—fuck you’re so, good, y-you’re so good Mig, fuck…!’

Soon your body was lulling in that post-cum exhaustion, your chest heaving as you panted. You expected to have some time to recollect yourself, but Miguel had other ideas. He wiped his jaw clean of your gushing slick and pulled himself up to leer over your body. He looked utterly intoxicated, practically high off your body.

A low, grating noise left his throat as he put his left hand on your wrists, pinning them together, while his right hand went down to your soaked slit.

You didn’t see his hand enter you, but you felt it. You let out a raspy moan as one of his thick fingers penetrated your untouched hole, followed by a mewling whine as his thumb hit your overstimulated clit. He bit his lower lip as you squirmed on his hand.

‘That’s it’ he murmured, his voice husky. ‘One more for me, please. I need to- I need to make sure you’re ready for me.’

He started with one finger but soon moved to two, then finally pushing you to three. His fingers were rough and calloused from living in the forest, and you felt them very clearly as they began to squish in and out of your body.

Between the hard thrusts of his fingers and his thumb gently stroking your spot, not to mention the terrifyingly arousing image of his half spider body leering down over your head, you quickly shuddered into your second climax.

‘Good, arañita’ he praised, practically breathless as he watched you mewl and whine and spasm on his hand. His cock twitched again with anticipation. ‘Good, good arañita. Thank you.’

Miguel carefully slipped his hand aside, greedily licking your juices from his claws. You were utterly drained, your body limp at his feet.

He narrowed his eyes. You were in the perfect state.

With careful movements Miguel bent down until his hands could find yours. He interlocked your fingers together and pressed his lips to your own, and even in your dizzy state you managed to return the kiss.

The distraction of his lips allowed him to carefully pull away the rest of your tattered suit with his spider legs, leaving you fully naked. When the cold air hit your skin he parted his lips, letting his tongue slip into your mouth to further distract you. You eagerly gave in.

‘Mm- Miguel—’

His name was muffled on your lips by his own tongue as he moved to lift you into his arms. He broke the kiss once you were fully supported in his grip, allowing a long line of saliva to hang between you. He panted, hard, and licked your spit into his mouth before licking his fangs.

‘Now, mi arañita, may I have the honor of mating with you?’ he begged.

You gave a shaky, sleepy nod. ‘Y-Yes, please. Please.’

Miguel didn’t waste any time. He knew this was his one chance, and his primal spider senses were hounding him to consummate. With your body limp in his arms he crept towards one of the larger pines.

‘Shh, careful. I’m- going to put you up here, it’ll make it easier for your bodies to fit together’ he soothed. You just moaned.

Miguel held you with utmost care as he started to spin new webs, this time using them to carefully stick your body in place against the tree. He webbed your waist and belly in place before webbing your legs on either side of the trunk, keeping them spread, and at last finished by webbing your wrists together above your head.

The subtle binding was another part of his instinctual ritual. It was supposed to keep you calm. In truth, as you stirred in his web, it just excited you more.

Now bound and naked against the enormous oak you shuffled in the web, testing its strength. It held firm. It was sticky on your skin, warm and sinewy on the flesh, tight but not constrictive.

You could squirm, yes, but you couldn’t break free, and most importantly your legs were stuck in their separated position. You were shamelessly spread wide, and the cold air on your drenched sex was sending chills up your spine. Your hole clenched around nothing.

‘F-Fuck, ah- okay, okay—’

You glanced down and watched as Miguel began to climb the tree. He mounted you with absolute care, keeping his human torso close to yours as his spider body curled between your spread legs.

‘That’s it. I’ll be gentle’ he whispered. ‘I’ll be- careful, just- please, let me fuck you.’

You bit your lip as he pushed up. You could feel his phallus twitching for attention as his breath hit your forehead. You could tell even just from the tip nudging at you, desperately probing your slit, that he was going to split you open.

‘Ah- Miguel—’

He nestled into your hair, breathing in your scent. ‘This- might hurt a bit, but, I will be gentle. Just try to relax.’

‘F-Fuck—’

Your breath came short as he started to slip inside you.

His phallus was huge, smooth but huge, and his entrance was a struggle. He had to pump it carefully to get it deeper. Your slick was helping him loosen you up but even at your most aroused it was barely enough, and he was forced to nudge at your cunt to make it stretch for his girth.

He grit his teeth to stop himself pushing you too far. ‘Come on- come on, let me- in, please—’

After a good few pumps and a few squirms from you, he finally fit. He was inside you. You winced as he bottomed out.

‘F-Fuck, Mig you’re- huge—’

‘Ah… ah, that’s it. That’s it. You’re mine now, arañita. It’s done. It’s over.’

You were stuffed to the point of being immobile. Every little motion you did made you painfully aware of his cock inside you, throbbing and compressing on every inch of your insides.

You stole a shaky glance down, and realized with both horror and arousal that there was a bulge in your belly where’d he’d pushed in.

Miguel groaned and dug his claws into the bark on either side of your head. He must have sensed your discomfort as he quickly moved to keeping you distracted.

‘Mi hermosa arañita’ he praised, his lips brushing your forehead. ‘You feel- delicious.’

As he showered you in kisses and praise, he started to rut between your legs. His entire, enormous abdomen began to jerk back and forth, sliding his phallus in and out.

‘That’s it, just take it. You’re taking it so well.’

‘Fuck, fuck- Mig, you- feel so, good—’

‘That’s it, you can take it. Mm… Mm… Just let me breed with you, please.’

You lay back as he started to bite at your neck, eagerly nibbling and rolling the flesh between his fangs. You tried to adjust to the sensation.

It was strange, the feel of hot skin against your bare chest mixed with the rough, fluffy flesh of his spider half, both rubbing against your body as he pushed in and out. You could feel him moaning against your skin.

He started to thrust a little harder, drawing almost all the way out before pumping back in. You felt his abdomen smacking against yours with each gruff penetration. A cacophony of sound filled the quiet forest: the smack of skin on skin, the wet sliding squelch of slick and cum, the soft rustling of his spider body and the desperate pants and moans from your joint mouths.

You let out an extra loud moan as his cock began to rib at your g-spot. You clenched him, tight, and he scraped the bark by your head in response.

‘I can’t- believe, I- get to mate with you’ he whined. He seemed rapturous. ‘You’re such a- perfect catch.’

He began to grunt rhythmically with each insertion. You could feel him probing, touching, tasting every inch of your insides. His soft front-legs were pawing at your hips.

‘I would have fought for you’ he hissed. You clenched harder as he nudged at your cervix, right at the same moment his foreleg found its way to your clit. He began to massage that little knub as his thrusting continued.

‘I would have killed males twice my size for you. All for you.’

‘Mig…. Ah—’

You let out a shameless whine as he hit each spot. You were already overstimulated from cumming twice, and now his girthy phallus was bullying you from the inside while his sensitive foreleg began to bully your clit.

‘But you’re all mine’ he groaned. ‘You- gave, yourself- to me—’

Your bodies were almost totally glued together at this point, with sweat and webbing connecting you by the skin. His hot, sweaty abs and pecs were squished against your chest and belly, each moving in unison as he fucked you into submission.

You rasped with a mixture of pain and pleasure as he started to get rough. He bared his fangs against your cheek in a territorial display.

‘My mate. Mi tesoro. Mi arañita. Mine.’

Between the wet slip of his cock and the soft massaging of your clit, you could feel a third orgasm rising. It felt so much more intense like this. You kept tensing and twitching, your muscles squeezing him tight, allowing you to feel every single veiny inch of his shaft.

He must have noticed you getting close as he started to whine, begging and nestling himself into your hair like he was pleading for your favor.

‘Cum for me’ he groaned. ‘I want to feel it. Please. Ah—cum on my cock, please.’

He started to speed up as if he could force it out of you. Somehow, he was right.

With an exhausted shudder you climaxed for the third time. You screamed for this one, as your mind went blank the moment those orgasmic spasms rippled through your body. It was so much more intense while being fucked. You felt his cock nudging each violent burst of pleasure from inside you, and his self-satisfied whines against your head just added to your gratification.

‘Thank you, thank you—’ With each desperate expression of gratitude Miguel gave another sharp thrust.

Your body was a mess at this point, and all you could do was relax into the binding web and let him have you. He continued to hump vigorously towards his own climax.

He could feel it getting close. He could feel the throbbing of his cock increasing, as every hair on his body stood up. His vision was getting spotty. Some deep animal part of his brain took hold and compelled him with one overpowering desire: he had to cum in you. He had to cum now.

‘Okay, just- gotta, feed it through- gently now—’

Miguel grit his teeth as his cock throbbed. He couldn’t hold back anymore.

‘I’m- going to cum in you now, okay? Just, a-ah- stay still. This will probably feel, strange—’

You squirmed in the bindings as he started to pump harder. He was erratic, rough, utterly drunk on his own primal desires.

‘Just like that, just- take it gently—’

And then, you felt it. He orgasmed abruptly inside you with a guttural moan, and bit by bit you felt his cock pulsing that thick seed into your pussy.

It was strange, like he’d warned. Load after load, rope after thick rope, filled the limited space of your insides until it was physically leaking down his shaft. He had to pull back and give shorter, desperate little humps to make room while still filling you with the last of his seed. You moaned through it all.

Slowly the throbs got shorter, less violent, until he’d thrust the last spurt into your opening. The two of you collapsed into a whining, panting mess.

‘Ah… finally. Finally.’

As he slipped out you realized that he’d squirted some kind of web secretion alongside his ejaculate, and your inner thighs was now coated in sticky webbing. You whined at the sight, as did he.

He was fixated on the cum oozing from your body and down your thighs. It was ridiculously thick. He was proud of that, but he couldn’t stand to see it wasted.

Using one of his spider legs he gently scooped up what cum he could and pushed it back inside you. He nudged it deeper, as deep as he could, before shifting his abdomen down and sealing you off with another smearing of web. You were too exhausted to even move.

‘Perfect’ he purred. ‘There. That-that should keep you plugged. Thank you, I can’t- say that enough, thank you.’ He pressed one shaky kiss to your forehead alongside his thanks.

In that post-cum daze you tried to gather your thoughts.

Oh god, what had you done? Had you really just done this? Had sex with a massive spider hybrid, unprotected?

Before you could think about it Miguel had begun cutting you down. He released your body from the thick web, but he didn’t let you go free. Instead, he wrapped you into a thin sheen of silk that acted as a blanket, covering you from the cold, before taking you into his human arms and carrying you down to his den.

It was a slightly uneven oval made of webbing, suspended between two giant pine trees with a small hole for entrance. He slid inside with your body tight to his chest.

‘Here, mi tesoro. You rest. You did so good.’

As you turned to look around you were surprised to find that the room was far warmer inside than its eerie exterior implied. He’d hung little firefly lamps on the walls to give it a soft orange glow, and the floor was covered in crude furniture made from wood and leaves. He had tables, desks, all covered in similar half-finished technology that the other Miguel’s office had, but he also had hand-crafted chairs and shelves adorning his home.

He crawled through the cosy little nest and lay you down on a silk-spun mattress in the corner. You sank into it immediately.

‘Ah… t-thank you’ you mumbled. Miguel just chuckled.

‘It’s the least I can do. You’ve done far more for me.’

You were too busy enjoying the luxurious bed to notice Miguel as he sank down beside you. His weight on the mattress did cause your body to bounce a few inches into the air, but the moment he settled you slid down to nestle against his side.

‘What’d you mean? I- barely did anything’ you asked with a yawn.

He pulled you in close and sighed. ‘You fool’ he murmured affectionately, ‘you gave me everything. I’m not stupid. Mating with me can’t be easy.’

‘Mm… I mean, I thought it was, really easy’ you sleepily chuckled. ‘Almost too easy.’

He gave a little exasperated head shake. Really you could have been saying anything right now and it would have endeared him to you. He already liked you, but now his hormones on top of that were compelling him to protect you, to keep you.

‘Pretty little thing’ he whispered. You didn’t hear.

For an hour or so you drifted in and out of sleep at his side while he kept watch. He guarded your body jealously, like a dragon over treasure, with his dark red eyes solemnly fixed on the door. It was like he was waiting for someone to take you away.

As the sun began to set you finally awoke properly, and realized just how long you’d been absent. You noticed your watch beeping and groaned.

‘Argh… I should probably get back to work, but… I really just want to stay here’ you grumbled. The idea of leaving this place, where you were treated so tenderly as this special little one in a million creature, it was difficult to justify.

To your surprise Miguel bristled when you mentioned leaving, his soft black and red hair standing on end. You felt his claws grip you a little tighter.

‘Ideally, I’m- supposed to keep you here’ Miguel murmured.

‘What? Why?’

‘Can’t have any competition.’

You felt his hands squeezing your flesh as he pulled you close to his abdomen. It was so warm, so strangely fuzzy and soft.

‘I… I assumed that was what the sealing was for.’

Miguel sniffed, his lip curling to reveal one of his fangs. ‘It is. But someone could remove it.’

You let out a sleepy chuckle. ‘Who?’

His eyes narrowed then, his fangs fully bared. ‘Your boss, for example. My, other variation. If you go back, and he smells you, he could… well, like I said, we are territorial. We don’t like competition. He would attempt to clean you of my genes and probably replace them with his own, if he could entice you.’

You blinked in surprise at this revelation. Wait, was that why HQ Miguel kept looking at you strangely? Did he know? Could he, as Miguel here said, smell it?

‘But… I thought, you were rutting because the- I don’t wanna be mean, but um- the splicing? You, being—’

‘He’s just as half-spider as I am’ Miguel grumbled. ‘He just doesn’t look it. But I guarantee he can smell the same as me, he- feels the same urges.’

‘I- Huh. Huh.’

You rolled onto your back to ponder that fact. Mig had always been honest enough, so you believed him that he at least believed the other Miguel would try to entice you too. Did that mean it was actually dangerous to return? Would anyone else smell Mig on you?

Your mind wondered back to the issue of what exactly you’d done here. Was this a mistake? Should you have let this giant spider monster have sex with you?

Now that you were more lucid, the answer was clear. Yes. A thousand times yes.

‘You know, Mig, the- benefit, to being partly human, is I can say very clearly that I don’t want anyone else.’

You felt him bristle with surprise as you spoke.

‘You… you don’t?’

‘Nope.’

‘But- me?’

‘Yeah. You. I like… big.’

The soft arousal in his eyes was palpable. You liked the way his little abdomen twitched and wriggled, almost like a dog shaking its tail.

‘You… You like, me? You liked… it?’

You let your eyelids droop as you pressed against his lower human half, stroking the curves of his pelvic muscles.

‘I like big. I like- rough. I like you.’

His back spider leg did a little stamp against the webbed floor. He was adorably excited by even that small compliment. He bent down to your height while emitting a low purring noise from his throat.

‘Well… most, spiders, ideally try to mate multiple times. If the, partner is willing’ he murmured. You could already hear that the brief respite your copulation had brought was slipping away. His voice had dipped, growing husky and smooth, a sure sign of his hormonal heat returning. You gave a sleepy chuckle.

‘What about the seal?’

‘I’ll remove it’ he purred. ‘I’ll remove it, cum in you again and then seal you back up. Over, and over.’

Just the words caused a soft moan to escape your lips. You curled closer. ‘Mm. You’re lucky I enjoyed it then. Can I at least rest up a bit first, though?’

His eyes were affectionate as he watched you curl into a ball against his fluffy abdomen.

‘Of course, arañita.’ Miguel bent to press his lips to your cheek. ‘Rest all you want. But… I will have you again.’

His soft words and warm breath made you shudder. There was an intensity in those words. ‘I will take you again, and again, until it sticks.’

‘Don’t- don’t you mean, just, until the heat finishes?’

A soft smile spread across his face as his eyelids drooped. ‘No. Because it will stick. There’s no doubt about that. I will get you pregnant.’

You gasped as his teeth suddenly hit your neck, his lips trailing down your naked chest. You felt his full weight as he held you beneath him.

‘I just hope it takes a little longer, so I can enjoy you fully. Mi hermosa arañita.’

Link to part four

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #read on ao3 #smut with plot #smut #drider #miguel o'hara fanfiction #monster human relationship

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ecstasyhighway · 1 month

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YOU & I | an ellie williams fanfic series

this is a fic that will be posted and mostly updated on wattpad @ecstasyhighway this ff is heavily based off of you the netflix show and inspired by a ff on here which i cannot remember who wrote it but if yk lmk so i can give proper credit.

there is not smut in this little part here but its a filthy ah fic that will become darker as it goes on.

MEN DNI - 16+ i fear (im 17 so if u feel uncomfortable reading from a minor who will be 18 at the end of the year then u dont have to read this i really dgaf.)

ch 1 ch 2

silly story and more ff info under the cut

Ellie had seen you walking around the music store she worked at... her attention automatically shifted from the customer in front of her to you. Your hair, your curves, your eyes. Everything about you was just...

"hello? did you hear me?" the woman raised her voice slightly to get her attention,

Ellie snapped out of her thoughts and focused on the clearly irritated woman in front of her.

"yea my bad, what was that..?"

The lady rolled her eyes and started asking questions about guitar lessons for her son or daughter or some shit, she wasnt really paying attention to the nonsense floating from her mouth.

"yeah, im not the one you go to about that, uhhh my buddy Jesse is in the back, he can help you"

"thanks" and with that, she headed towards the back, muttering words under her breath.

Ellie's attention quickly turned back towards you. She examines you closely. Watching you grab a vinyl from the shelf, Call Me If You Get Lost, is what you had grabbed. Ellie wants to walk over to you, and talk to you but shes scared. What if she says the wrong thing? What if she freaks you out? What if you think shes a weirdo.. She turns away to stop looking at you, her cheeks are red and shes shaking, she is just so nervous and she's not even planning on talking to you... She puts her face in her hands and begins to calm herself down.

"Hi! hello"

A voice chimes from behind her, she turns around and a lump forms in her throat.

Its... you.

———————————————————————————

YOU & I | ellie williams.

this is a DARK fanfic. Based heavily off of the show you on netflix and inspired by a fanfic I saw on tumblr. This story has adult themes, sexual themes, stalking, thoughts of killing (no actual killing just thoughts), themes of hate, ellie has slight mental issues (obv shes stalking) age gaps (only 3 years and they're adults). idgaf how old u are this is dark and you have been warned, i am not responsible for any type of reaction you may have to this as ive given you a warning. I will give warnings at the beginning of chapters that might be too dark. again you have been warned.

important - ellie might be a tad ooc, shy!ellie, switch!ellie if you squint. this is a lesbian ff.

MEN DNI I WILL FIND YOU.

reader is afab and 20

ellie is 23

modern au

jessie, dina, joel, tommy, maria, most of the main tlou cast is in this (not everyone will be mentioned or even really have a place in the story, just know they are present)

based in New York (obv)

i am not a professional writer, im simply a girl who writes shit when shes bored, do not expect me to have an upload schedule. I get drained v fast and i want to enjoy writing, its not a job with deadlines. so with that my grammar might be bad, spelling might be ass and if there is any math it will probably be wrong, it might be written in third, or first person i be fuckin up with that but yall will be fine.

YOU & I | ellie williams.

story created and written by @ecstasyhighway

tlou and the characters belongs to Neil Druckmann and Naughty Dog

the story of "YOU" belongs to Netflix

Story was ib by a ff i saw breifly but i don't remember who wrote it so, if yk pls lmk so i can give proper credit

THIS IS FICTION. DO NOT DO THIS SHIT IRL BRUH ITS ACTUALLY WEIRD ASF. AGAIN THIS IS PURELY FICTIONAL. thank yew

uhhhh yeah enjoy ig and i do appreciate any supportive criticism as i am not a professional writer and shit could just be wrong.

also im new to tumblr fanfic writing so yeah 😭.

#ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie smut #ellie x you #fanfic #ellie is so hot #i need her so fucking bad #lesbian #ellie williams smut #ellie williams series #new to tumblr

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maiverie · 2 years

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mai can you do 1,2,3, and 4 pls

HECK YEAH I CAN 😽 i would gladly hehe THANK U SM FOR PARTICIPATING 😭💖

[1] who is your favourite character to write for and is this the character you find easiest to write for?

(copied from this ask) OK OUT OF THE CURRENT TUMBLR WORKS I HAVE OUT…….. honestly open sesame’s yn was legit my fave to write for HAJFJSJSKSSHDK THAT BITCH WAS GENUINELY CRAZY 😭 like fr all i had to do was think to myself “ok how do i make her sound like the most disgusting simp in the world” and ez fic completed ✅ HAHSHA BUT TBH triage!hee is really fun to write too bc he’s saur smol and soft 😭 open sesame’s yn probably wasn’t the easiest to write but she was really really fun bc tbh i laughed at my own jokes 😁 the easiest to write is defs triage!yn bc she’s quite stoic and calm and i feel like it’s quite easy w all her dialogue since i have a v clear picture of her??? 😳😳😳

[2] what is your favorite fic of yours?

omg out of my current tumblr works, definitely open sesame! i think it’s probably closest to the type of writing i really enjoy (crack; unhinged crack to be specific AJJDKDKS) and no one rlly knows this but i actually wrote it as a bday gift for one of my best friends (it was orig a baekhyun/exo fic) so it’s quite sentimental to me???? also …… heeseung in a FUCKING robe. LIKE. PALMS SWEATY KNEES WEAK ARMS R HEAVY ITS AN IMAGE THAT IS BURNED INTO MY SOUL💀💀💀 but UH ANYWAY if we’re including every single fic i’ve ever written, published on tumblr or not, then my ultimate fave is a fic i wrote a year ago (just some romcom delinquent/bad boy au e2l fic about a girl who basically teams up w the bad boy to try get revenge on her stepfather and then they both get locked up in a youth detention centre LMAOO) 😭😭 im honestly just a really sentimental person so since it was the first writing piece i’d ever written from start to finish (plus i rlly like the comedy/crack in it HAHDHDHSJA), it’s defs my fave fave fave fave HEHEHHE

[3] what fic of yours do you think is underrated?

oh fuck HAJAHAHAHAHAHA THE FACT I HONESTLY HONESTLY THINK EVERY SINGLE ONE OF MY FICS ARE OVERRATED 😭😭😭😭😭 and it’s not that they’re even rated that high???? HAHSHSHS LMAOO 💀💀 this is probably going to come off the wrong way and i don’t mean the bitch that tries to be humble but :// idk? i just don’t think any of my fics are all that, coming from an objective pov ! but then again we’re always our own biggest critics? however just to answer the question, my most well-received fic is definitely triage, though i think open sesame is probably better written/of better quality? :00

[4] what fic of yours were you surprised by how popular it was?

oh jesus HAJDKSJA DEFINITELY TRIAGE 😭 HSJDJSKS IVE ALWAYS BEEN THE KIND OF PERSON TO LIKE BAD BOYS / TSUNDERES SO I WAS SO SHOCKED PPL WOULD EVEN READ A NERD AU???? BHSJDKS BUT IM SO HAPPY people are even reading it honestly THO IT STILL SHOCKS ME TO THIS DAY WHEN PEOPLE ASK ME AB TRIAGE UPDATES??? LIKE YALL LIKE THIS SHIT??? BRUH

HELP ANON U PICKED SUCH GOOD QUESTIONS THANK U SOSOSOSOSOSO MUCH FOR PARTICIPATING HEHEHE I HOPE MY ANSWERS WERE OKAY <333 ILY

send in a question I BEG

#ask #@ : anon ♡︎#꒰ ask games ꒱ 𐂂

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oneprompt · 3 years

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hello there! may i request one portgas d. ace x fem reader with prompt 4 (trying to concentrate on a task, but your lover is kissing your neck, making your head spin) ace being the pest he is. pls & ty <3

authors note : hello ! my apologies for the delay … oh my. but yes ! I can do that for you, yes , yes <333 please enjoy !

Ace x F! Reader , Lover Distracting You Via Neck Kisses

Slightly Suggestive Content Below ! Beware

You had been up for how long no? You had no idea, truly. You stood upon the top of the hefty ship deck of Whitebeards boat, looking through the vast star dotted sky for any signs of land. Being a navigator wasn’t easy, you had to work day and night. It didn’t matter what condition the weather was in, you had to stand out there all night and you devoted yourself to it. Even if nobody told you to do such a thing, you had to. It was the principle, the least you could do as not only a navigator, but as a friend.

You were so invested in your focused search, you hadn’t even heard the creaking of wooden planks and foot steps from a certain someone. To not notice your own beloved Ace… you were really dedicated to finding land, weren’t you?

“What’re you still doing awake?” Ace asked, hands stuffed in the depth of his pant pockets. He was topless as always, the moon light making his toned muscles appear as lovely as ever, highlighting every inch of his bare skin.

You gave Ace the basic courtesy of a side glance before your eyes returned to the dark scenery before your eyes. “I could ask you the same,” you said softly, not wanting to wake anybody. That was a mixture of both a comeback and a genuine question.

Your eyebrows knitted together in worry as you finally turned to the young man, giving him a sudden sliver of attention. “You should rest, you had a rough day today.” Your voice was full of sincerity, not holding back on any affections. If you acted cute, he was sure to listen. Right…?

Ace chuckled, making his way closer to you. You stared at his arm as it swung around your waist, locking your body in place.

“Why should I when you’re all the way out here?” Ace cooed, delivering a delicate kiss to the nude nape of your neck, left exposed thanks to the v neck shirt you wore. You couldn’t hold back as your cheeks went a rosey colour, resembling the most pretty shade of pink.

“Ace… I’ll be out here until sundown.. just go to bed. I’m looking for land to dock at..” you mumbled, shivering as your lover didn’t remove his warm lips from your neck. Why must he be so stubborn? Ace was never one to give up. Sure, you admired that about him for the most part but when it was in situations like this, it grew a bit aggravating..

You tried to wriggle out of Ace’s clutches but failed, his ripped arm keeping you snug close to him, mouth still exploring the surface of your skin. Part of you wanted to send him off, shouting at him to let you do your job. But you couldn’t. The kisses Ace left on your neck made you feel floaty, leaving a throb in your heart and the slow tightening of a knot within your stomach, a feeling that made your knees weak.

“Cant you take a break?“ Ace asked, murmuring against your neck. You gasped as a sudden warm and wet appendage grazed your neck, warming the cold surface with his scorching drool. “I miss you.” He licked a stripe against your neck before kissing at the line he left behind, watching your face turn redder by the second. He loved seeing you try your hardest to deny him, it was cute.

You wanted to abandon your duties, letting your lover take the long night out of your possession. But you had to find an island to dock at… there were some repairs that had to be done to the ship and lord knew you couldn’t do that upon the harsh oceans. And who knew what Whitebeard would say if you didn’t have the ship docked and fixed in time? He was a yonko… and nobody could go against one, not even their own crew mates. You greatly respected him and the thought of disappointing Whitebeard was one that you didn’t want to have cross your mind.

“I can’t, Ace….I-I’m being serious,” you huffed, trying to shrug away the pleasures sighs that threatened to pour from your succulent lips. “I need to find somewhere to stop, the ship needs to be…-“

The sudden digging of something sharp washed over you, a pinch of pressure applied to your neck. Ace really wasn’t going easy on you, clouding your mind with endless thoughts of sexual pleasure, something that could easily be fulfilled by him. How bad did he want such a thing…?

“Stop playing dirty…!“ You hissed at the man, teeth clenched to stop any of your high pitched breaths to be released. “I’m being serious… step off..!”

Your words clearly held no weight, as Ace’s gestures only worsened. You could feel one of his large hands slither into the back pocket of your jeans, pushed against the ripeness of your butt. Where did he think he was touching!? “Cmon… can’t you let me take care of you?” Ace purred into your ear, his burning tongue dancing along the fold of your ear lobe. He had no mercy, did he? As expected of a pirate…

That offer was too tempting, so painfully tantalizing. You looked down at the darkness of your shoes, your boyfriend still all over you, leaving his manly musk upon you already. This was all so intoxicating. Just Ace’s presence alone was enough to make your head run in endless loops.

You knew how important this task was, how mandatory it was to assist not just yourself and Whitebeard, but the entire crew. You wanted to keep your brain fixated on the surroundings upon the dark and cold ocean but your boyfriend made it entirely impossible. From the way Ace’s hands roamed your form to the way his tongue and lips plagued your mind with lewd thoughts. It was all far too much.

“F-fine…. But not for long.. this is important.” The sound of you finally giving in and submitting was music to Ace’s ears. He knew he could persuade you, even with such minor touches and movements. It was adorable how high your sensitivity levels were. One would never assume so, a pirate is supposed to be tough against anything. But your weakness was your lover himself. Ace was the one thing you couldn’t overpower. ”Dont worry, you’re in my care. I’m certain you’ll enjoy yourself~.”

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bopbopstyles · 4 years

Photo

BEHIND THE BAR

RATING: R/smut (sex, heavy alcohol use, lots of cursing, heavy banter)

WORD COUNT: 17.3k (she long and you may need to read on desktop)

CATEGORIES: bartender!y/n, fratboy!harry

a/n: the long awaited bartender!y/n fic has ARRIVED! thank you to my fabulous anons who dreamt up bartender!y/n and made me fall so in love with her and fratboy!harry’s dynamic that i had to write her. she is tattooed, sassy, and full of spunk and i ADORE her. if you need more of her and harry, check out the inspo tag which has all the discourse. concepts for these two are ALWAYS open. s/o to @harrystylescherry, @stellarboystyles, @harrysclementines, @havethetimeofyourstyles for beta reading and @bfharry for providing harry’s dad joke 😘

“Cheers, Birthday Princess,” you told him, and then you bumped your glass against his, before tipping it back. Harry slammed the glass down on the counter and shook his head as the alcohol coursed through his veins.

Then, he leaned forward on the bar, resting his elbows on the alcohol-covered surface. You tried to keep it clean, but there was no way to keep up with it all. “How about a birthday kiss, Madam Bartender?”

“In your dreams,” you answered, realizing what you had said only after the words left your mouth.

Harry smirked, a dimple poking out. “We’ve already talked about dreams, Y/N. You know you’re already in them, so no need to beg for it.”

Y/N is a bartender and Harry’s obsessed with her

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

In hindsight, perhaps taking a job as a bartender at the campus bar as a freshman wasn’t your smartest idea. You had to spend most of your weekend nights behind the bar trying to hear orders from slurring frat boys ordering the cheapest beer on tap and got shit tips because apparently your classmates didn’t care about tipping their bartenders. But at the same time, it was a great way to always drink for free and make friends, both with the other bartenders and with students who frequented the bar, as well as the neighborhood regulars earlier in the evening.

The thing you loved most about it, though, was the power you held behind the bar. It was your space, space where you made the rules and could throw out any person who messed with you. Which, as a stunningly gorgeous 21-year-old girl serving alcohol at a popular bar, happened plenty. You and Mike, the bouncer who usually shared shifts with you, had a hand signal that you could give him whenever someone was causing problems, and he would happily come to the bar and throw out whatever obnoxious man was giving you trouble. You frequently considered that Mike actually enjoyed throwing people out of the bar.

It was a Saturday night, the busiest night of the week and nearing one AM. The bar was packed, bodies pushing past one another to get to the bar, girls drumming their fingers on the fake wood counter. Tendrils of your long black hair stuck to the back of your neck, the result of constantly being on the move from the moment the rush hit until the bar closed. A cropped black tank top stuck to your skin, the sliver of skin between the hem of the shirt and the top of your black skinny jeans not enough to keep your body cool. Your ponytail swung back and forth as you moved, winding around Matt, the other bartender tonight, with ease. The two of you usually shared shifts, both being students and having the same availability. Generally, he was a good guy, taking the drunk guys so you didn’t have to deal with them and always making sure people didn’t give you trouble. The one downside to Matt, though, was his frat brothers. They appeared every shift without fail, bringing with them chaos and an inordinate amount of drink orders. They loved to annoy you, asking you the contents of every fancy drink they could think of and asking about your love life.

Tonight, it seemed, was no different.

You noticed the minute they entered the bar, a collection of t-shirts, a couple of jerseys you despised, and a button down shirt or two, all of them talking and yelling at each other. “Matt, your fan club is here!” You called down the bar, and Matt laughed as he grabbed the vodka off the wall to make a drink for two girls that were staring at him with wide eyes.

You grabbed two shot glasses and the handle of tequila from where you’d left it below the bar. “Salt and limes?” You asked the girls who had ordered the shots. They were most definitely not twenty-one, but then again, serving underage college students was how the bar made any business. The girls nodded, and so after you had poured the shots, you grabbed the salt shaker and two cut limes, pressing the limes into the rim of the glasses and pushing all the items across the bar. One of the girls handed you her card and you heard the words “Keep it open!” over Taste by Tyga and Offset that was blaring in the bar. It was your playlist, one that you’d perfectly curated for the bar with input from the other bartenders, and you were pretty proud of it.

After swiping the girl’s card and adding it to the stack of open tabs, you whirled back around to take the next customer. The sight of his brown curly mop and gleaming green eyes made you sigh—it was Harry. He, frankly, was a bit obsessed with you, but he was Matt’s little so you let it slide. Also, Harry’s attention didn’t make your skin crawl, instead it made your belly clench and witty comebacks fall easily from your mouth. The two of you had settled into a consistently flirtatious banter and you didn’t mind it, frankly. Sometimes, it was the highlight of your night.

The first time you ever met Harry, you noticed him long before he finally spoke to you. He was sitting at a booth not too long after your shift started, so it wasn’t super busy yet. He had caught your eye because he wouldn’t stop staring at you and he had a weird bandana wrapped up in his hair. (Or was it even a bandana? Maybe a scarf? You couldn’t be sure.) It wasn’t the creepy kind of stare that made you call the bouncer over, but the kind that made you blush against your every attempt not to. When Matt came in, a bit late as usual, Harry beelined to the bar, sitting down in front of him.

“Y/N, this is Harry,” Matt had said, grabbing the bottle of Jack from the wall and pouring some in a glass, then adding Coke to it before pushing the glass towards Harry. “He’s my little.”

You leaned onto the bar, the surface still dry since it wasn’t packed yet. “I was waiting for you to say hi. Saw you staring for the past fifteen minutes.”

The blush that rose to Harry’s cheeks made you smile at him, and Matt chuckled. “Staring isn’t nice, H.”

“Wasn’t staring,” Harry mumbled. “Just watching you make drinks.”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Have you never seen a bartender before?”

“No, fuck,” he said to himself and you internally grinned at making him a bit embarrassed. He was easy to mess with, especially now that you had confirmed that he had, in fact, been watching you. “You’re just good at it.”

You looked to Matt. “He thinks I make good drinks,” you informed your co-worker. “What do you think, Harry? Am I better than your big?”

Harry could tell he had dug himself into a hole, his eyes sweeping between you and Matt. “I—I don’t know—maybe?” Matt’s eyes widened and Harry stumbled over his words, trying to correct course. “No, no, Matt’s better. Matt is definitely better.”

You leaned forward a bit more, inching closer to Harry. “Thought you said I was good at it?”

You could feel his eyes drift to where your cleavage was exposed from the deep-v of your black t-shirt. “You are.”

“So which one of us is better?”

“You.”

Matt groaned and you moved away, a triumphant grin on your face. “Not fair,” Matt said. “Harry’s got a crush on you, of course he’d say you’re better!”

Harry choked on his drink and you raised your eyebrows at him. “A crush, huh?”

“Shit,” Matt said. “I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

You bumped your hip against his. “It’s ok, Matty boy. I figured that out when he wouldn’t stop staring at me.”

Harry blushed and you moved away, tending to the other customers at the bar.

That night had begun the back-and-forth between you and Harry, a playful dynamic of flirtation and jokes that usually left you triumphant and Harry blushing at the bar. He kept showing up early and Matt would tell you things like “Oh, he’s just coming by to drop off my charger” or “He just wants to chat.” All of them were excuses for Harry to be in the bar with just you, Matt, and a couple of customers, him having your relatively undivided attention. He’d tell you terrible jokes and ask you questions about your classes or family, most of which you ignored. You never asked him questions back, just let him talk and you listened, although you pretended like you didn’t, because you didn’t want to encourage him.

The truth was, though, you didn’t mind him. You kind of looked forward to those conversations. When he got really drunk he was a bit more annoying, repeating your name until you finally paid attention to him, only for him to say nothing except “You’re cute” or something along those lines. He entertained you, at least, and that was more than could be said for most of the patrons.

Tonight, it seemed, was no different than usual. “Y/N!” He said, shoving himself between two people who had managed to snag one of the green vinyl covered bar stools. His hair was messy, perhaps a bit sweaty, and he was swearing a black t-shirt, a silver chain tucked under his shirt. You could immediately tell he was decently drunk already, based on the glassy expression in his eyes and the grin on his face. “Want to hear a joke?”

You wiped off the bar with the towel over your shoulder before answering him. “Sure.”

“What did the therapist say when a naked man wrapped in cling film went into their office?”

“I don’t know,” you answered, resting your hands on the bar and looking at him dead on. “What did they say?”

Harry was grinning at you, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Clearly I can see your nuts.”

You groaned and Harry just guffawed. “Harry, that was horrible.”

“You just have no sense of humor.”

“Says the guy making jokes like that,” you shot back. “Now, what do you want?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black leather wallet. “Five fireball shots.”

You had to take a second before replying because the thought of a fireball shot makes you want to vomit. The combination of the cinnamon flavor and the burn it sent down your throat was one you hated, but it seemed Harry enjoyed it. “Really, Harry? Fireball?”

“What? It’s good!”

You shook your head, but grabbed shot glasses, laying them out in a line on the bar. “You’re insane.” You turned, grabbed the bottle of Fireball, and then returned to him.

“Make it six,” he said, slashing you a smirk.

“If it’s for me I am not drinking it.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’m plenty of fun,” you told him, cocking your hip. “And I have good taste in alcohol.”

“Y/N, please,” he begged, pouting slightly for you.

Sometimes he was such a child, you thought as you gave in, grabbing another shot glass. “Fine,” you told him. “But this is the only time.” He grinned at you, and you just poured the shots, drawing a line down the glasses with the alcohol.

He snagged one of the shot glasses and you took one at the end. “Cheers,” he said, lifting his shot, and you did the same, knocking the glasses together enough for a clink to ring out.

You tipped the shot back, letting the burn of the cinnamon whiskey fall down your throat. You swallowed, dropped the shot glass to the counter, and looked to Harry. He was grinning, his empty shot glass on the bar. “Satisfied?”

“Very.” Then he picked up the shots, holding them together in his two massive hands, his rings clinking against the glass. You watched him walk away, his shirt disappearing into the throng of people, and then your attention was caught by another patron, asking you for a Long Island iced tea that made you laugh once you had turned away from them.

The night passed with many empty bottles of vodka and gin, the drinks of choice for all the girls who came up to the bar, and you nearly ran out of Budweiser, since it was on tap and the cheapest beer. You were bopping your head along with your playlist, Piece Of Your Heart by MEDUZA ringing through the speakers. The electronic music was supposed to help keep your energy up, but it was three AM and you were beginning to tire, the whiskey and coke you made yourself doing little to keep you going.

People were starting to filter out of the bar, groups heading to get a late night snack or head home. You were thankful for it—if you could start cleaning before official close you would be happy, perhaps being able to get home sooner.

“Can I get another whiskey coke?” You turned and Harry was sitting in a barstool at the bar, right in front of you.

You nodded, grabbing a glass and the handle of whiskey. “Where’d all your friends go?”

“They left.” He drummed his fingers against the wood, the light of the bar catching on the silver of his rings. You were a bit fascinated by them, if you were being honest. Why he wore them, where they came from, what they meant. The same questions rang in your head in reference to the tattoos that littered his arms and peeked out from under his shirt.

“You didn’t go with?” You pushed his drink towards him and returned the jack to its spot on the wall.

He shook his head, taking a sip of the drink you made him. “I was going to wait for Matt.”

You raised your eyebrows and then nodded towards where Matt was leaning over the bar, talking to some girl whose drink had long since been emptied. “I think he’s already got someone waiting for him.”

Harry looked to where Matt was and then shrugged, before turning his gaze back to you. “Guess I’ll just hang out with you, then.”

“Oh really?” You took some empty glasses off the bar where people had left them and dropped them into the bucket under the bar to be taken back to get cleaned.

“You’re more interesting than him anyway.”

You laughed, grabbing an empty shot glass and putting it in the bucket. “And why is that?”

“You’re hot.” He didn’t even pause before he replied.

He licked across his bottom lip after he said it and you couldn’t help but watch the action. It wasn’t like you didn’t know Harry thought you were attractive—you did. It was just that he had never outright told you, or been quite this forward. Usually he was skating around the topic and now that he wasn’t you didn’t quite know what to say. So you said the first thing that popped into your head. “Have you been behind a bar?”

“Only at the house.”

“Your frat house does not count as a bar.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“It is not a bar, Harry.”

“Fine. Then no, I haven’t.”

You took a step away from him and waved your hand at the space. “Would you like to?”

This time, it was him raising his eyebrows at you. “What am I going to be doing?”

“I’ll teach you to make drinks.”

“I know how to make drinks,” he scoffed.

“Jungle juice doesn’t count.”

He huffed and then pushed away from the bar, standing to his full height. “You’re being mean,” he stated, but walked to the end of the bar and came around the side anyways. “It feels so different from back here.”

You turned, one hand on the bar and the other on your hip. “What do you mean?”

“Dunno. Feel…powerful, I guess.”

You nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. “So, Mr. Bartender, what do you want to make first?”

Harry considered his options, looking around the bar and taking in the options in front of him. He looked a bit overwhelmed, if you were honest. You glanced around, checking on how busy it was, and you were thankful that it was pretty much empty, so no one would probably be bothering you and Harry. “I’ve always wanted to make an Old Fashioned.”

“Can do,” you answered, grabbing the proper glass from the shelf, and a bottle of your favorite bourbon, setting both on the counter in front of you. “Do you know what’s in one?” He shook his head, a slight blush on his cheeks, and you smiled to yourself. He could be so goddamned cute sometimes. “It’s whiskey, bitters, and a bit of sugar. Do you know how to muddle?” He shook his head again, and you nodded, grabbing the rest of the supplies you would need.

You spread it out in front of you, popping a sugar cube in the old fashioned glass. “So this is the bitters we’re going to use,” you informed him, passing him the bottle of Angostura bitters. “Put two dashes of that in the glass over the sugar.”

“What the fuck is a ‘dash’?”

“A bit,” you told him. “Just do it.”

He did as you asked, tapping bitters into the glass. “Is that enough?”

You nodded, and then grabbed the soda gun and pressed the button for water, adding a bit to the glass. Then, you passed him the muddler, which got very little use at this bar. In fact, you hadn’t made an Old Fashioned in ages—it wasn’t exactly the drink of choice for most college-aged people. “Now, you’re going to muddle this—like mix them together, crushing the sugar.”

“Why does mixology have the weirdest terms?” He said under his breath and you snorted. He did as you said, listening to your instructions, crushing the sugar and mixing it with the bitters in the glass, the sugar dissolving in the glass.

“Good. Now you add the ice.”

You pulled back the top of the cooler that held the ice, and Harry grinned as he picked up some with the scooper and filled the glass with it. “Always wanted to do that.”

“And now you have.” You shut the top of the cooler and passed him the bourbon and a jigger. “An ounce and a half of bourbon,” you informed him.

He reached over and took the bottle and jigger, and his close proximity made you inhale. You could smell cologne, a bit of sweat from the party he was at earlier, and a trace of smoke as he moved. The scent had your spine straightening, your mind just as muddled as the contents of the glass. How did he smell so good? He was a college boy. Who gave him the right to be so goddamned attractive and smell this delicious? His long hair, the length not quite reaching his shoulders but close, swung slightly in your face as he pulled away, the tips of his curls brushing against your cheek. He was so close that if he turned his head, your lips would meet.

You tried not to think about that.

But he lingered close to you as he poured the bourbon in the jigger, your sides nearly touching, just half a step away from one another. If the music hadn’t been playing, you probably would’ve been able to hear him breathe and he could’ve heard your breath hitch when his bicep flexed as he held the bourbon. Your eyes trailed over the tattoos on his arms, dancing over the ship and the rose at his elbow, all the way down to the anchor at his wrist.

“Now you’re the one watching me.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, where he was looking at you, smirking. “Pour the shot in, Harry.”

He looked back to the jigger he was holding, and tipped it into the glass, the amber liquid dropping through the glass. You handed him the stirrer and he twirled it in the glass, before setting it back down on the bar. The sound of his rings hitting the glass sounded in your ears as he grasped the drink, bringing it to his lips.

His eyes were on yours as he tipped it back slightly, letting the alcohol pass between his lips. You tried not to focus on his Adam’s apple bobbing as he sipped. When he lowered the glass, his tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip, and it made you tug your own into your mouth softly. Then you asked, “How is it?”

With his gaze trained on your mouth, he answered, “Delicious.”

“Y/N!” Your head bounced up to see Mike darting his head inside. “Time for close.”

You looked up at the clock on the wall and realized he was right—more time had passed than you realized. “Shit—yeah, sorry Mike. Matt,” you called down the bar to your co-worker who was very caught up in his flirtation. “Will you kick all of these people out for me?”

“Even me?” Harry asked and you roll your eyes at him.

“You can stay,” you told him and he gave you a smile, taking another sip of his drink. “As long as you help me clean up.”

While Matt kicked the remaining stragglers out, making sure the ones that are too drunk get in an Uber, you and Harry cleaned up. He helped you flip chairs on top of tables and pick up the glasses littered across surfaces, even in the bathroom. You filled the bin with the glasses and took them into the kitchen, filling the industrial dishwasher to the brim. He even took a rag and wiped down the tables, singing along to the Tame Impala you’d turned on and finishing off his Old Fashioned. You put the bitters away and the remnants of the drink he had made, and toss some lime rinds into the trash, wiping off the last bit of the bar.

“I’m going to head out,” Matt called to you from the door. He’s got his arm wrapped around the girl’s shoulders, a wide smile on both of their faces. “You good, H?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I’m going to walk Y/N home.”

This was news to you. “I drove,” you replied.

“Then can I snag a ride?” He asked, and you shrugged. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Also, the idea of making him walk didn’t sound like a good idea, even though the frat house wasn’t too far from the bar.

“Sure.” You grabbed your purse and leather jacket from where you’d stashed them under the bar, and pulled them on. “C’mon, let’s go.”

You waved goodbye to Mike, who was left to lock up, and walked around back to where your car was parked. It was a must have for you, not wanting to walk home at four in the morning after a long night of working. Plus, you never drank much while you worked—all you had had was that disgusting Fireball shot earlier in the night and a whiskey coke throughout the evening. Harry followed behind you, his hands in his pockets as he walked, the faint light from the street lamp illuminating the sidewalk leading to the parking lot.

“It’s dark,” he said when you turned into the lot.

You unlocked your car and turned to look at him. “It’s four AM. Of course it’s dark.”

He moved towards the car, pulling open the passenger side door. “No, I just mean that it’s dark for you to be walking to your car alone.”

“Oh.” You tossed your purse into the backseat and slid into the driver’s side, flipping on the ignition. “Matt or Mike walk me to my car most nights.”

His long legs ended up a bit cramped in the passenger seat of your car and it made the corner of your mouth turn up. “Good,” is all he said before pulling on the seatbelt and clicking it. You reversed out of the spot, your phone automatically connecting to the Bluetooth as you flipped on your turn signal. “That’s the wrong way.”

You turned and looked at him. “Don’t you live at the house?”

He shook his head though. “No, I’ve got an apartment with some brothers on the West side of campus. Take a left here.”

You absorb this information and switch the turn signal. “Why don’t you live there? I thought most people did.”

“I like the privacy, I guess. When you live with all your brothers, they tend to know every bit of your business.” He was looking out the front windshield and you did the same, eyes on the dark streets in front of you. Being this close to him in the car had your body temperature spiking a bit, although you wouldn’t have admitted that to anyone. Harry was just the boy who flirted with you every chance he got and was Matt’s little. He was just someone to entertain you on slow nights or when you were stressed. Right?

“Take a left at the light,” he said, breaking you out of your trance. You flicked on your turn signal and eased into the turn lane, swinging your car onto a side street. “I’m having a birthday party next weekend at the house if you want to come,” he suddenly said.

Your eyes bounced to Harry, who wasn’t looking at you, his palms resting on his knees. You could sense the tension in his body—was he nervous? Did you make him nervous? “Is it your 21st?”

He quirked a smile at that. “How’d you know?”

“Well, you’re a junior. I just assumed.” Matt also might’ve mentioned it once or twice, but you didn’t tell Harry that.

A blush crept across his cheeks. “I—uh—it’s on Saturday at nine. We’re hitting the bars after, but the thing at the house is just going to be brothers and drinks and some music. Pretty low-key, I think.”

“I’ve got work,” you told him. “But I’ll try and stop by before my shift. I’m not supposed to be there until ten.”

He nodded quickly and you tried not to think about the fact that Matt was never going to let you live this down. What were you even doing, saying yes to Harry? You weren’t even interested in him. He was just a boy to flirt with, someone who told you bad jokes and ordered Fireball shots. “It’s right up here,” he said, pointing to a house off to the right.

You slowed the car in front of a one-story bungalow, a couple of cars in the driveway and lawn chairs on the front lawn. “You live in a house?”

“Somehow it was actually cheaper,” he explained, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Plus, kind of nice not having people complaining about the noise.”

The area was definitely still on campus, but you didn’t know anyone who lived over here. “Are your neighbors all students too?”

He nodded. “Some other brothers have a place a couple houses down, there’s a house of Pi Phis over there. But yeah, it’s all students. On game days it’s a fucking mess.”

You put the car in park, and turned off the ignition. “I can imagine.” Harry didn’t make any moves to get out of the car, just sitting there staring at the dashboard of your old Toyota, his hands fidgeting on his thighs. “Harry?”

“Fuck,” he exhaled, catching his bottom lip in his teeth. “I...” Then he glanced over at you, and under the dim streetlamp you could see the expression in his eyes. It’s one you knew well. It’s the look he gave you when you wore your favorite lace bodysuit that was conservative enough to wear out, or when you gave him just as flirtatious of a comeback as the one he served you.

Then, all of a sudden he was moving towards you, his hand curving around the back of your neck and pulling you towards him. It was awkward, the seatbelt holding back your shoulder, but it didn’t stop you from leaning towards him, meeting him halfway. His lips tasted like bourbon and bitters, a trace of Fireball when you nibbled on his bottom lip that was just tucked between his teeth. He was sweet with an edge of fire, and when he tilted his chin slightly to change the angle, rotating his head just enough to kiss you deeper, you knew you were fucked.

For so long, you had been trying to keep him at a distance. Just let him exist as a flirtation, nothing more than that. You’d ignored the thoughts that blazed through your mind when you were drunk with your friends and saw him at a party, his lips on some girl, and you wondered what they would taste like on yours. Now that he was kissing you and you knew what they tasted like, there was no way you would be able to forget.

Especially the way his fingers threaded through your hair, his rings cool against your warm scalp. How he tugged on your lip with his teeth and you let out a soft whine, pulling him closer by the neck of his shirt. The fact that it was nearing four thirty in the morning and you were in your car making out, your seatbelt still on, didn’t seem to matter. The exhaustion that had been all-consuming earlier was gone, your body rushing with adrenaline from the feeling of his mouth tucked against yours, his hands on your skin and the way his lips searched for yours when you pulled away for air.

“I should go home,” you said, breathing heavily as you moved back into your seat.

Harry was looking at you intensely, his lips slick from your saliva, his cheeks flushed from kissing you. His hands still lingered on your neck and hip, and you weren’t ready for him to let go. However, you needed sleep, otherwise the rest of the day was not going to be pretty. You had a paper due on Tuesday you had to write and if that didn’t happen this afternoon after you slept you were fucked. “Yeah,” he finally answered, pulling away. “It’s late.” He shuffled in the seat, turning to push open the door. “Get home safe, okay?”

You nodded, and with one lingering look at you, Harry slid out of the car and shut the door behind him. Under the dim lights you watched him walk to his front door, pulling open the screen door and unlocking it. Once he was inside, you finally turned back on your car and put it in drive, peeling away from the curb without a glance back.

On Tuesday, you were knee-deep in edits for your paper when your phone screen lit up with a text. Despite the fact that you told yourself you would be ignoring any notifications that flashed across your screen, you were intrigued by this message because it was from a number you didn’t recognize. So you leaned back in the uncomfortable wooden chair you were sitting in (chosen to make sure you stayed awake) and grabbed your phone.

The sight of the message made you choke on air.

Hey, Y/N, this is Harry. Matt gave me your number, I hope that’s ok?

That was it. The whole message. What the fuck were you supposed to do with that? “Fuck,” you muttered to yourself, because now you couldn’t ignore it. You had your read receipts on, something you turned on one time when you were breaking up with an ex and wanted him to know that you were ignoring his messages on purpose, and never turned off. So now Harry knew you had read his message.

So you typed back, hey! what’s up?

The typing dots appeared and you had the sudden urge to throw your phone halfway across the room as you waited for his reply. But you didn’t, because Harry’s text popped through before you could take any actions to make it seem as though you weren’t staring at your phone waiting for his text.

Just wanted to say thanks for the ride home on Saturday. Then, in a separate message, Also, the invite for my birthday party still stands, but no pressure.

You nibbled on the edge of your thumb nail, your other thumb poised over the screen as you considered what to reply. You decided on coy. i'll see how it goes :) you wrote out, and then thumbs up reacted to his thank you text.

Looking forward to it is what he replied with, and that felt like the end of the conversation, so you locked your phone, turned it on Do Not Disturb, and tried to re-focus on the paper open on your computer screen.

It took everything in your body not to check your phone a couple more times, just to see if he’d kept the conversation going. You had no idea what to say to him—he was the one who texted you in the first place. It seemed like his job to keep the conversation going, not yours. So you let the conversation linger, not even saving his number in your phone.

When Saturday rolled around, you considered for a long time whether or not you were going to go to Harry’s birthday party. Matt had texted you too, combining the text with a notice that he wasn’t working that night and Lucy was covering his shift, which meant you were going to be doing all the heavy lifting. Lucy was a freshman, new to bartending, and most definitely was hired so she would be ready to replace you when you graduated next year. The fact that Matt texted you told you that Harry must really want you to come, even if it was just for a bit.

So you turned on your getting ready playlist and grabbed your favorite bodysuit—it was long sleeved and high necked with a mesh leopard print, meaning that when you wore your black bralette underneath it, it would show through. It was enough to get eyes on you (you could neither confirm nor deny if you specifically meant Harry’s eyes), but not too much that you felt completely exposed, thanks to the long sleeves. You grabbed your black jeans, even though in an ideal world you would’ve chosen your leather skirt instead, but the last thing you wanted was alcohol stuck to your legs all night or some asshole seeing up your skirt when you bent over for ice.

You kept your makeup simple, but in line with the outfit—a light smokey eye, eyeliner, and a tinge of a deep red to your lips. Rhea, your roommate, let you use her dry shampoo, so you sprayed it at your roots, giving your day-old hair some revival. With a pair of gold hoops and a pep talk, you were ready, your phone and wallet slipped into the pocket of your trusty leather jacket.

You had never been to a frat house when you couldn’t hear the music pounding from outside. But as you walked up the grassy front lawn to the KDR house, it seemed quiet—all the lights on, even. You rapped on the door twice, running your hand through your hair as you waited for the door to open. When it did, a guy was standing there who you were pretty sure you recognized from the bar—he was close with Matt and Harry, you thought.

“You’re the bartender, Y/N!” He said, pointing at you with his index finger, lifting it from the red solo cup he held in his hand.

“I am,” you replied. “Harry and Matt invited me.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, and you tried not to read into that too much. “Come on in, I’m Caleb, Harry’s little.” And that, you realized, was why he was always hanging out with Harry and Matt. You followed Caleb down the hall, which had composite photos on the wall going back to the 70s and 80s. It was weird being inside the house with all the lights on, because you could actually see everything for the first time. You saw what was usually a coat room and discovered it was actually a study of sorts, bookshelves with textbooks and random course books lining the shelves and a couple of old leather chairs in the corner that you usually stashed your jacket on.

He turned into the long living room and kitchen, which was where most of the parties happened in their house, and you were met by a pong table and a collection of boys, many of whom you recognized from the bar. Your eyes scanned over the group, and you found that you were, unsurprisingly, one of four girls in attendance. The others were next to brothers, an arm slung around their shoulders. You found Matt and Harry easily in the crowd, Matt saying something to Harry with his palm pressed to Harry’s chest, his other hand gripping a can of Natty Light. How he could drink such watered down piss while being a bartender you didn’t know and you quickly decided you would be ragging on him for it the next time you worked together.

“Bartender girl!” One of the guys called out, and that made Harry and Matt’s heads immediately swivel towards where you were standing. The discomfort that had been lingering was suddenly there in full force. You hated being the center of attention, something most people never expected since you thrived at the bar. The key part of being a bartender, though, was you had the bar between you and the patrons. It was a safety net, something that gave you power and confidence. Without it, though, you felt naked in a situation like this.

The sight of a tiara on Harry’s head, though, immediately made you feel more at ease. The words Birthday Princess were printed on the tiara in bright pink writing, and the sight of it resting in Harry’s hair brought a smile to your face.

Matt immediately broke into a grin and widened his arms, which you rolled your eyes at. “Y/N! You made it!”

You walked over to him, having nothing else to do, but didn’t give him a hug. “Barely. I can’t stay long—I’m supposed to be there at 10 so Lucy doesn’t kill someone with her heavy handed pouring.”

He chuckled, and then gave Harry a clap on the back. “I’m going to go check on the beer. Have fun, H.”

It left you and Harry alone—or as alone as you could be in a crowded room. Your eyes roamed his body, the black silky shirt drawing in your eyes, white stitching that spelled out his last name on the chest, the way it was unbuttoned low. It was the first time you’d been able to see his tattoos—the edges of what seemed to be wings on his collarbones that you wanted to see the rest of, and a silver chain with a cross hanging on it lying on his chest. You could feel his eyes on you too, and steeled yourself under his gaze, trying to remain confident as you stood in front of him.

“Nice tiara,” you said, breaking the silence.

He blushed, reflexively reaching up to touch it. “I was hoping you didn’t notice.”

“It’s literally a bright pink tiara on your head, Harry, how could I not notice?”

“Matt and Caleb made me wear it. My other little, Tyler, bought it and insisted.”

“Can’t let the family down?” You said, the corners of his lips lifting.

“Guess not.” A silence fell between you again and you busied yourself by investigating the space you were in. The worn couches on the wall, a massive dining table with alcohol covering it, dishes in the sink and a stack of red solo cups on the counter. It seemed like exactly what you would expect from a fraternity house, even if there wasn’t a party going on. Finally, he cleared his throat and thickly asked you, “Want to play pong?”

You blinked, not expecting the question, but shrugged. “Sure.”

“I’ll drink any you don’t want to,” he said.

“Why? Think I’m not any good?”

“No—I just—you drove, right?” He was stumbling over his words and it made you give him a small smile. You decided to be a bit of a tease, and brushed your fingers over the stitches on his shirt, just to mess with his brain a bit.

“I did,” you answered. “But I don’t think I’ll be drinking too much.”

His eyes widened a tad and you watched as he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Let’s see your skills, then,” he finally said and you followed him over the table, where they were setting up for another round. He set down his cup on the side of the table and you fiddled with the cups, making the lines straighter. “Ready?” He asked you, his body shifting closer to yours. There was just a hair of space between your hips and you sucked in a breath before nodding.

You hadn’t thought this through, you quickly realized, because pong meant that there was barely any space between the two of you, and he kept brushing against your back and arm as he moved around. When he passed you the ball his fingers touched yours and your eyes would flit to his, only to find his green irises looking right back. The scent of his cologne and the alcohol on his breath wrapped around you when he laughed close to your ear, the contact of his skin on yours when he gave you a high five and lightly gripped your hand for just a beat too long sent shivers down your spine. When he picked up a cup to drink from it, you watched as his lips—the ones you had kissed exactly a week ago—wrapped around the rim and the beer slid down his throat. You were actively trying not to think about kissing down the column of his neck as you looked back to your cups on the other side of the table.

“Can I get gentlemen’s?” You asked and next to you, Harry nodded, agreeing with your decision to re-rack. The guys playing you quickly reshuffled your cups and you dropped the beer-covered ball into a cup of water to your right. When you picked up the ball and rolled it between your fingers, you decided to tease Harry a bit more, because it was your favorite pastime. You offered the ball to him, clasped between your thumb and forefinger, and looked him dead in the eyes. “Blow on it for good luck?”

His eyes widened, but then a cocky grin drifted across his cheeks. He leaned in and blew softly on the white pong ball, his pupils dark and focused on yours. Then, at a volume only you could hear, he whispered, “Sure you don’t want me to blow something else?”

Rather than give him the satisfaction of knowing he had your pulse stuttering, you licked your lips and replied with, “Let’s see if you’re so cocky when I’m on my knees.” You turned back to the cups and with ease, you threw the ball as it sank into a cup. You peeked a glance up at Harry, only to find him already staring at you, blinking in rapid succession. “Your turn, Styles.” You grabbed the other ball and pressed it to the stitching on his chest and his lips quirked up, snatching the ball from your grasp.

“Kiss for good luck?” Your eyebrows lifted at his words and he was smiling at you, a cocky gaze fixed on you.

“In your dreams,” you answered with an eye roll.

“Oh, baby, you’re already in them,” he whispered as he tossed the ball. It hit the rim of your one remaining cup before falling in perfectly.

His words rang loudly in your ears as Harry raised his arms above his head in success, ignoring the words he just had said to you. You, however, couldn’t say the same. They were running through your head on a loop. He dreamt about you? You wanted to know more, wanted to know every bit of his dreams, what they looked like and what you did in them.

At the sound of your name you blinked, pushing yourself out of your daydreams. “Yeah?”

It was Harry, his palm resting on your lower back and burning the skin with his touch. “It’s almost ten.”

“Fuck,” you breathed out, pulling your phone from your jacket. “I—shit I have to go. Sorry.”

He shook his head. “S’fine. I’ll walk you to the door.”

You waved goodbye to your opponents and some of the other boys you had been introduced to. Harry’s hand left your body as you both walked, and you couldn’t help but be disappointed. “Happy Birthday, by the way,” you said as you turned into the hallway, the chatter of the boys over the music fading a bit.

Harry dug his hands into his pockets and smiled at you. “Thank you. And thanks for coming. It—it was nice, having you here.”

The softness in his tone was in direct conflict with the banter at the pong table, but you didn’t mind. You kind of liked that the two of you had this duality, the ability to go each direction. “I had fun.” You pulled your car keys out of your pocket and turned the knob on the door. “I’ll have a birthday Fireball shot waiting with your name on it, Birthday Princess.”

That made his smile turn into a grin, his dimples popping out as you stepped across the threshold and onto the front porch. “Looking forward to it, love.”

As you walked away, you tried not to let his term of endearment fill your every thought, but it was hard, especially when you looked back and he was standing in the doorway, watching you walk to your car. You exhaled and opened the driver’s side door, realizing that you had dug yourself into quite the mess with this boy.

You had been watching the door out of the corner of your eye all night, waiting for Harry and all of his friends to arrive. Lucy had noticed and pestered you about it, but you hadn’t given in. You didn’t feel like the entire bar staff knowing your personal business—Matt was plenty. You busied yourself by serving patrons, making an absurd number of vodka tonics (which you despised, but you had found freshman girls preferred them to gin, for some reason) and opening bottle after bottle of beer.

You were humming along to Broken Clocks by SZA when the door opened and your name was called over the bar, Matt’s voice booming in the space. “Y/N, I need a shot for the birthday boy!” Harry was standing next to him, Matt’s arm thrown over his shoulder, a grin on his face.

You turned and quickly queued In Da Club by 50 Cent, before grabbing the bottle of Fireball off the shelf. When you turned back to the bar, Harry was standing in front of you, the Birthday Princess tiara unfortunately absent. “Where’s your crown, Birthday Princess?” You asked, pouring the dark liquid into a shot glass for him.

“It’s a tiara, Y/N,” he corrected, snatching the shot. “And Caleb accidentally broke it.” You could tell by the twinkle in his eyes and the color in his cheeks that he was more than a few drinks in, no doubt doing shots with the rest of the party before hitting the bars.

“Good to know,” you answered, and just because he was so goddamned cute, you grabbed another shot glass and poured yourself a shot of Fireball.

“Takin’ a shot with me?”

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

Harry was about to say something when the music changed and he let out a cheer, Matt and Caleb and another boy, who you assumed was Tyler, pounded on the bar on either side of him. Then, they began to sing and you could help but guffaw.

“Go, go, go, go go, go, go, shawty/It's your birthday/We gon' party like it's yo birthday/We gon' sip Bacardi like it's your birthday/And you know we don't give a fuck/It's not your birthday!” They sang, and you couldn’t help but join in at the end.

“Shots, shots, shots!” Matt cheered, and Harry lifted his shot glass, raising his eyebrow at you.

“In your dreams,” you answered, realizing what you had said only after the words left your mouth.

Harry smirked, a dimple poking out. “We’ve already talked about dreams, Y/N. You know you’re already in them, so no need to beg for it.”

You rolled your eyes at him and pushed lightly on his cheek, a pout settling onto his lips. “Shut up, Styles.”

“Meanie,” he said, moving back to rest normally against the bar. “You have to be nice to the birthday boy, didn’t you hear?”

“Not if he’s a prick,” you informed him, resting your hands on the lip of the bar and locking your elbows, leaning slightly forward. “Now, do you guys want anything else, or are you just going to annoy me all night?”

“Four whiskey cokes,” Matt told you. “And make ‘em strong.”

Throughout the night, their group achieved higher and higher levels of drunkenness. They started singing a Cheetah Girls song in their corner booth, much to your enjoyment, and Matt got on the table, something Mike only allowed because he was an employee, and made the entire bar sing Harry Birthday to Harry. When Mamma Mia came on, Tyler—who you were increasingly discovering was pure chaos in a body, perhaps even more chaotic than Harry and Matt combined—tried to start a conga line through the bar. Not only was he stopped by Mike, but also by the sheer number of people packed into the space.

Meanwhile, you were left behind the bar, fielding drink requests and racking up students’ credit cards with drinks they probably would forget ordering in the morning. You even had one Beer Baptism, an exciting element of the night, when some hockey player informed you he has drank every beer on tap, meaning he had achieved his Beer Baptism status. Harry and Matt lost their shit in the corner when you announced it and rang the bell over the bar, before grabbing two full pints of the hockey player’s requested beer of choice—Budweiser, for some fucking reason—and poured it over his head.

After three, the bar had started to empty out, but the four musketeers in the corner were still going strong. Harry kept coming up to you and asking for a shot of this or such and such drink, and even requested to make an Old Fashioned behind the bar again. You told him he was too drunk to make it right, but next time he could. Every time he came up he offered some sexual innuendo or bad joke, a lingering touch on your hand when you passed him his drink, or a wink that left u scowling at him. He even unbuttoned his shirt a few more buttons so by the time it was just him and his lineage in the corner, it was barely even on him. The whole idea of “No shoes, no shirt, no service” was quickly becoming a possible line you could use, especially when he kicked his feet up on the table and Caleb was trying to grab at his boots and pull them off, much to your amusement.

At 3:45, there were no patrons left except for the booth full of boys, so you had Lucy start cleaning up while you grabbed a beer—your first drink of the night other than the shot you did with Harry—and walked over to the boys. Harry was on the end, since he kept on coming and going from the booth, his knees spread wide and one arm slung over the back of the seat. At the sight of you approaching, he straightened up and set his drink down on the table.

“Hey,” he said, drawing out the Y as you slid in next to him, his arm falling easily around your shoulders.

“Hello,” you answered, nudging his knee with yours. “You’re man spreading all over my booth, Styles.”

Tyler snorted and Harry shifted, pulling his knees in closer together. “Didn’t know it was your booth.”

“I work here, you know.”

“I noticed,” he answered, tongue running over his lip as he looked at you. “I like this top you’ve got on.”

You sipped on your beer before replying, “It’s a bodysuit, actually.”

“So I’ve got a genuine question,” Matt said, leaning in towards you from across the table. “How do you pee with that on?”

“It’s got snaps on the crotch.” For some reason Tyler and Caleb blush at the word crotch and it makes you smile internally. “Can be a bitch to take on and off, though.”

“Huh.” Matt leaned his cheek on his palm. “I never fully understood the appeal.”

“Well,” you said, placing your beer on the table. “They tuck into pants and skirts so there’s smooth lines. But also it kind of feels like you’re wearing lingerie.”

That had all the boys blushing, including Harry, who said, “So that’s like lingerie to you?”

You glanced down at the lace long-sleeved bodysuit you wore and shrugged. “Guess so.”

“I always thought lingerie involved less material, not full on sleeves.”

You mulled this over, and decided to push his buttons a bit more. “So is a babydoll not considered lingerie to you?”

His eyebrows scrunched up and if you were being honest, the expression was positively adorable. You wondered if it was the face he gave when he couldn’t figure out a math problem or was looking at IKEA instructions. “The fuck’s a babydoll?”

“Other than a pet name?” You threw back and Harry quirked a smile. “It’s like a…sexy nightgown, I guess you could say.”

“Sexy nightgown.” Harry stated, mulling over the thought in his head, and you watched as he brushed a hand through his hair, considering the concept. “And that would have more material than what you’re wearing right now?”

You shrugged and took another sip of your beer. “Arguably.”

“Then yeah, I guess that’s still considered lingerie. A sexy nightgown, huh?” He blew out a breath of air and looked to the boys across the booth from you. “Damn, the girls I’ve been seeing have been holding out on me.”

The boys laughed, but you wanted Harry’s attention back on you. Maybe it was the close proximity of his body or the smell of his cologne that overwhelmed your senses, or the way you could see the butterfly tattoo on his abdomen and the low rise of his incredibly tight skinny jeans, but you wanted him. Badly.

So you reached down and placed a hand on his thigh, high enough to make his breath catch but not too high where you were actually touching him. Just close enough to make him consider the prospect. “You’ve been picking the wrong girls, then,” you said, the words low in your chest and Harry’s eyes were on you in an instant. Immediately there was movement on the other side of the booth, Tyler, Caleb and Matt sliding out one by one. “Leaving, boys?”

Matt nodded. “H?”

Harry’s eyes hadn’t left your face and the weight of his gaze had your heart pumping a mile a minute. “I think I’m going to stay.”

His fingers moved from the booth seat next to him to cover your hand that rested on his thigh, slowly inching it up his pant leg. “I’ll take him home,” you said, glancing back to Matt. “I’ll let you know when he’s home, okay?”

Matt gave Harry another look, and then nodded, obviously trusting you to take care of his friend. “Let me know if you need anything.” With that, he turned away, waving to Lucy and giving Mike a slap on the back on his way out.

Your attention turned back to Harry, who had somehow slid closer to you on the seat. “What was all that talk about lingerie, hmm?” He asked, the hand that rested next to your shoulder moving to rub the top of your arm, heat surging through your veins at his touch. “You always chew me out for sayin’ shit to you, and then you go and say that. In front of my friends, no less.”

You drummed your fingers on his inner thigh and caught the way he swallowed thickly at the feeling. “I wanted to see what you’d say, I guess.”

“And?”

“I now know you’ve never seen a babydoll. Or nearly enough lingerie.”

He sucked in a breath and then leaned his head down, his lips brushing against your earlobe. “Is that your way of asking me if I’d like to see your collection?”

Your heartbeat was thudding in your ears as he grazed your hair with his nose, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. He had your insides moving in circles like they were on a merry-go-round, consumed in nothing but him. Slowly, you lifted your leg closest to his so it hooked over his knee, tugging yourself closer to him. “Perhaps.”

Under the low lights of the bar, the green of his eyes twinkled at you, your coyness making him grab at your knee, kneading his thumb into your skin over your jeans. “You told Matt you’d take me home.”

“I did.”

“What’s the likelihood we could change the destination on that ride home?”

Your hand moved from his thigh to his torso, skittering over his shirt and tucking against his exposed skin, his butterfly tattoo flexing under your touch. “I could be convinced. What did you have in mind?”

“Your place,” he said, hand squeezing your knee tightly when you scratched his skin softly. “Fuck, Y/N.”

“You’re drunk,” you told him simply.

With a combination of tenderness and need that had you desperate for him, he nudged your temple with his nose and said, “I won’t be in the morning.”

“Is that right?” The feeling of his breath in your ear made you grab at his side, pulling at his skin with your hand, wanting just to feel him in some way. You were sober and yet he had you feeling drunk, drunk on need and desire. “Then come on, Birthday Princess.”

The wood of your front door slammed against your back the second you shut the door behind you, Harry’s body pinning you to the door. His hands tugged on your hips and your hands were in his hair and the sounds falling from your mouth were positively sinful. The way he pulled on your bottom lip and sucked on it, making you press up into his body, hands tugging at his shirt, how his hands fell to your ass and squeezed, you squeaking into his mouth. How he lifted one of your legs and hooked it around his hips, allowing your centers to meet, and he shakily exhaled. It was consuming, kissing Harry, trying to keep track of what he was doing and then finally giving up and just losing yourself in him, in the way he touched you and made your entire body erupt in flames.

“Jump,” he said, pulling at your other thigh and you did so immediately, not even wasting a beat before hooking your ankles around his hips and letting him grind into you.

You let out a wanton moan at the feeling of the friction from your jeans meeting and rubbing into you, and from the way his breath caught, you knew he was just as affected as you were. His necklace swung on its chain as he pulled away and sucked a line of kisses down your neck, just as you had thought about doing to him earlier. When he prodded at your pulse point with his teeth and then licked over the spot you tugged on his hair, his name a broken whimper on your lips.

Hands met skin, both of you needing more and more. You pushed at his shirt, the predominantly unbuttoned garment falling easily from his shoulders and pooling at his elbows. The fresh skin served as an opportunity, and you took it, bending your head and licking across his collarbones, his head tipping back at the feeling. You sucked a mark onto the protruding bone, right over the wing of one of his swallows, and blew on it when you were done, Harry hissing above you.

From the way his fingers were digging into your jeans and you were panting in his hold, you knew that if you didn’t slow things down they were going to get out of hand—and quickly. So you lightly pushed at his shoulders, his gaze bouncing up to your eyes. “We should stop,” you mumbled, sucking in air finally. “Just—just sleep for now. Yeah?”

“‘m feeling more sober now,” he said, diving back into your neck, but you pulled on his hair, hauling him away.

“I had to literally help you walk to my car.”

He pouted at you. “That was a weak moment.”

But you shook your head at him, having none of it. “I want you at full capacity,” you told him, and his jaw dropped slightly, just enough to part his lips and you to press a finger into the space. His teeth tugged on your nail and finger pad, eyes on yours. “Want you fully sober so I can see what I’ve been waiting for.” Then you dropped your finger from his lips and ran it along his jawline, watching his eyes try to take in every one of your motions. “Plus, I want you to be able to remember my lingerie collection when I model it for you.”

When Harry groaned, it was deep and unrestrained, a demand from the most feral part of him. His head dropped to your chest and you pushed through his locks, his panting breath on your skin through your bodysuit. “I’m not gonna be able to sleep with that image running through my head.”

You rested your hands on his shoulders and pressed down on them so you could unhook your ankles and drop to the floor. “I think you’ll manage. Now, c’mon, let’s get ready for bed.”

His fingers threaded through yours as you pulled him through your apartment, thankful Rhea was spending the night at her boyfriend’s so she wouldn’t be awoken from the giggles that left your mouth when Harry tripped over your shoes and the corner of your bookcase in the living room. You led him to your bedroom and left the door open, walking over to your dresser, kicking off your booties on your way. “Are you going to take this off?” His fingers graced over the top of your shoulder and you inhaled sharply.

“Yes.” You unhooked your hoop earrings and dropped them into your jewelry box. “Is that a problem?”

“Slightly,” he answered, fingers trailing down your arm. “I was hoping to do that myself.”

You turned around so he was facing you, eyes blown out in desire and cheeks flushed from the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed that night. “Then do it.”

His tongue darted out quickly, licking the center of his lips, and then he smiled at you, a boyish look of delight. “Is this my birthday gift?” Fingers brushed the top of your jeans and you nodded. “Goddamn, aren’t I lucky.” He popped the button and drew your zipper down, eyes fluttering to yours to make sure you were okay as he moved his hands to your hips, pushing the material down. “Holy fuck,” he suddenly breathed out and you glanced down.

The tattoo on your left hip had caught his attention, his palm resting just above where it started, his eyes trained on the ink on your skin. “What? You’ve got plenty of them.”

A chuckle left his mouth, and then he just shook his head. “You keep on surprising me.” His fingers crept down your skin, brushing against the chrysanthemums that covered from where your bodysuit sat on the rise of your hips to a bit down your thigh. “Does it mean anything?”

You nodded slowly. “It was my grandmother’s favorite flower.”

He must have noticed your word choice, because he quietly said, “I’m sorry,” before bending down and kissing over your tattoo. You inhaled sharply and watched as he tugged your jeans the rest of the way down your legs. Once you’d stepped out of them, he rose back to full height. “Can I take this thing off?” He asked, pulling softly on the hem of your bodysuit.

“Yes.”

“Snaps, hmm?” He ducked his head and you widened your legs enough for him to be able to tuck his hand between your legs. The pads of his fingers brushed over your clit and you couldn’t help the whimper that felt from your lips, the sound of it making Harry smile. “I can feel you.” He pressed lightly to your center through the two layers of material and you gripped the dresser you were leaning against.

You hadn’t been this wet, this in need of someone in such an all consuming way, in ages. Most people would have probably been embarrassed, but you just nodded, affirming his statement. Yes, you were wet, and yes it was all for him.

In a flourish, he gripped your bodysuit where the snaps laid and pulled, the sound of the fastenings coming undone cascading through your silent room. “Convenient,” he muttered to himself. Then, his hands pushed the mesh fabric up, revealing your black lace thong and the stretch of your bare stomach. “You know,” he said, squeezing at the curve of your torso, “I quite liked this thing. All that mesh. Could see your bra all night and it drove me fucking crazy just having to watch and not be able to touch you.”

When he pushed it above your breasts, revealing your lacy bralette, you lifted your arms and let him pull it over your head, the fabric falling to the ground. “Well, now you can,” you informed him.

The gaze he fixed you made your skin tingle. Without another beat, his hands were on your breasts, fingers brushing across your skin and then dipping into the material. With your breasts exposed, he whispered your name, forgotten on his tongue when he leaned in and fastened his lips to your nipple, the skin hardening immediately from the wetness on his tongue.

Curses left your mouth in a string, hands tugging on his hair as he prodded at your skin. He didn’t linger there though, seeming to be too focused on the greater task, because he lifted his head from your chest after a minute or so. And then his hands were at your back, unhooking your bralette and pulling it from your body, revealing your nearly fully naked body to him. His thumbs brushed over the solar system tattooed on your ribcage and you shuddered at the feeling.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbled, eyes taking you in. “Good god.”

The heat that rushed to your cheeks you couldn’t stop, so instead you distracted yourself with teasing him. “Take your shirt off.” His eyebrows raised, but he followed your directions, unbuttoning the final button and pulling the material off of his shoulders. As he was about to drop it to the ground you stopped him, taking the fabric in your hands. He watched in fascination as you pulled it over your shoulders, buttoned the middle two buttons, and then looked up at him. The shirt covered most of your ass, the tops of your thighs and your tattoo exposed.

“Like my shirt, huh?”

You nodded, and then decided it was your turn to touch his skin. Your hands criss-crossed across his exposed chest, brushing across the marks you had left and down, tracing his nipples until they pebbled, and then down to the laurels on his pelvis, barely peeking out from the top of his jeans. Then, you popped the button on his jeans, and when he didn’t stop you, you pushed them down his legs, struggling a bit with how tight they were, but succeeding finally. He was left in nothing but his briefs, a lion tattoo on his thigh exposed to your eyes and some small ink on his knees you thought was cute. You wondered how drunk he was when he did it, but decided not to ask.

“What happened to getting ready for bed?” He asked, hands running up and down your arms.

“We’re dressed for bed, aren’t we?” You turned around though, and led him out of your room and down the hall to where the bathroom was. “Go ahead—I’m going to get us some water. Use anything you want, except my toothbrush. There’s spares under the sink.”

You left him to his own devices and made your way through your apartment, grabbing two glasses and filling them with water, tucking a bottle of ibuprofen under your arm. He would need it in the morning. After leaving them on your bedside table, you headed for the bathroom where the door was open, Harry brushing his teeth at the sink. You slid in next to him and he moved to the side, allowing you to grab your face wash and splash water on your face, swiping the liquid in circles over your skin. After your moisturizer and eye cream, you started brushing your teeth, trying not to focus on how Harry was just leaning against the wall watching you.

“You good over there?” You asked, spitting into the sink and rinsing off your toothbrush before dropping it into the jar on the sink that held them.

He nodded. “This is going to sound weird,” he said, “but I feel…comfortable with you. Like this kind of shit,” he gestured to the bathroom, “I’ve never done this.”

“Brushed your teeth?”

“No,” he grumbled, grabbing for your hips. “I don’t usually get ready for bed when I spend the night with girls.”

You tried not to read into that statement, to wonder if you were some normal hookup or something more. Instead, you leaned in and pecked his lips, before tugging him out of the bathroom and towards your room. “Water’s on the table,” you told him, shutting the door behind you as you stepped inside. “And some ibuprofen, if you want it.”

He walked over to the opposite side of the bed and gulped down the water, tossing some of the medicine on his tongue and finishing off the water. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” you answered, and then pulled back the covers on your bed. You settled in between the sheets, and watched as Harry slid in beside you, obviously trying to gauge what you wanted. Once he was comfortable, you shuffled towards him, and without thinking too much into it, you rested your head on his chest. He immediately brought his arm around your body, holding you close to him. “Night,” you mumbled.

“Night, Y/N.” His voice was gravelly from exhaustion and alcohol, and you shut your eyes, falling asleep to the rise and fall of his chest.

You blinked, eyelids heavy from exhaustion, as you woke up. Sunlight was streaming in your curtains, which despite being blackout curtains, could do little to hold back at the sun in the morning. As you gathered your senses, you realized that the other side of your bed was empty. Picking up your head, you took inventory of the room—Harry’s boots on the floor, your clothes haphazardly tossed in your laundry basket, your phone charging on your bedside table and a full water glass sitting there.

You had finished yours last night, if you remembered correctly. But you shrugged and grabbed the water, chugging it as you unplugged your phone and checked the time. It was noon, which was the normal time you woke up after a shift, meaning you’d had somewhere between seven and eight hours of sleep. You could’ve slept for hours, but what was more urgent than a couple more hours of sleep was where Harry had run off to. Slowly you pulled yourself up, Harry’s shirt still adorning your body, and walked out of your room and into the hallway, where the smell of coffee hit your nose immediately.

“Morning sleepyhead,” Harry said when you walked into the open plan kitchen and living room. He was sitting at the bar that divided the room in half, a cup of coffee in his hand and a bottle of Pedialyte on the counter next to him. “I’m glad you found the water. I was getting pretty close to waking you up.”

“Thanks for that,” you said, raising the glass to him. You meandered past him into the kitchen, where you grabbed a coffee cup—this one was from a National Park you’d visited the summer before with your family—and filled it with coffee. “How long have you been up?”

“Two hours,” he answered. “I have a hard time sleeping after a big night out.”

“Pedialyte?” You asked, nodding to the bottle on the counter.

He grimaced and set down his cup. “Yeah. I went out and got it while you were asleep.”

Sun was streaming in the white curtains in the living room, casting the whole apartment in a bright mid-day glow. Harry was in just his jeans, no shirt, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he had worn out. “Did you wear that out?”

He glanced down at himself. “Yeah. Stole one of your big sweatshirts, too.”

“Did you now?” You shifted away from the counter, rounding the counter so you stood in front of him. “Which one?”

Green eyes followed your hand as it landed on his knee, moving it away from the other one to create space. When you took a step forward, you could hear his breath hitch and gave him a coy smile, your free hand sliding up his thigh. “Your green one. Said Obsession on it, or something—it was the only one that fit me.”

You chuckled softly. “It’s my ex’s.”

He huffed. “S’mine, now.”

“Is it now?” You asked, setting your cup on the counter next to Harry’s. “Planning on taking over for him?”

“As an ex?”

You shook your head, hands drifting up his torso. “As the guy who gets to wear my clothes.” You tried not to think about what those words meant, what you were asking him, because your mind was too wrapped up in him to even be thinking about your intent.

“Happily.” His hands finally landed on your waist, ring-clad fingers pressing into the skin covered by his shirt. “You know, you look good in this.” Fingers slipped under the material of his shirt, the white Styles on the chest stretching over your breast as you breathed.

“It’s black,” you told him, trying to keep your breathing even. “Everyone would look in it.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, kneading your sides. “Dunno about that.”

Both your hands and Harry’s explored each other’s skin, taking inventory of every rise and fall, roll of skin, the places that made each other gasp just a bit. It felt good, being this intimate with someone just like this, nothing but one another’s hands. “Then what’s so special about me wearing it?”

Palms cupped your breasts, squeezing delicately, his full forearms tucked underneath the fabric of his shirt. “That you’re the one in it,” he murmured, voice dropping an octave. “You, wearing my shirt, my last name on your chest.” He blew out a breath and you tweaked one of his nipples in reply. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re a dream.”

“How about we move this to my bedroom,” you said, slipping your hands up to his shoulders. “And I finally show you my lingerie collection?” You didn’t have to ask him twice. He was standing, your hand in his, and pulling you in the direction of your room immediately, a giggle leaving your lips at the sudden movement. “Somebody’s eager.”

“You’ve been talking about this lingerie for like twelve hours, love,” he said, shutting your door behind you. “I fuckin’ dreamed about it.”

You pulled out of his grasp and he fell down to your bed, where the sheets were twisted from sleep. His messy long hair and shirtless torso drew in your gaze, the way he leaned against your pillows, watching you. “Did you now?” You turned to your dresser and pulled out your top drawer, where your lingerie lived. “Close your eyes,” you told him, peeking back at where he laid.

Once he followed your instructions, grumbling about missing out on half the show, you pulled out your first item—a dark blue babydoll, lace appliqué covering the skirt and a bow nestled between the molded cups, a matching g-string that you slid over your hips. You fluffed your hair, suddenly wishing you had had the forethought to wash your face before you took on this endeavor.

“Open,” you told Harry, and turned in his direction.

“Holy fuck,” he said in one breath, sitting up immediately, as if a jolt of electricity had ripped through his body. “Is this a babydoll?”

“Good memory,” you replied, leaning against your dresser. You didn’t know what to do with your body other than just stand there and let his eyes trail over you. “Thoughts?”

“How would you feel about never wearing clothes again?” He asked, gnawing at his lip. “Just that.”

You blushed, and picked at the hem of it. “I think I might get cold.”

“I’ll give you a jacket.”

“How kind.” You turned around and when he whined, you turned just your head to him. “There’s more sets to show you, you know. Close those eyes, mister.” He did as you asked and you pulled off the lingerie, lovingly folding it back into your dresser. Your fingers ran over the lace in front of you, trying to decide which one of your, admittedly many, sets you wanted to show him next. Finally, you settled on a pink lace set that was essentially see-through. You’d never worn it before—it was one of your newer purchases, one you’d chosen after a successful test grade.

You pulled up the panties and hooked the bra behind your back, sliding the straps up your arms until they settled comfortably on the dip of your shoulders. Then, you turned and at the sight of Harry sitting there, patiently waiting, you decided to reward him a bit. You walked towards him, and when you reached his form, you settled your hands on his shoulders. The touch made his eyes flutter open, and the second he saw your body his eyes widened. “Wow,” was all he could say as he studied the material covering your skin.

“What do you think?” The more his eyes lingered on you, the more you loved how you burned under his gaze.

He licked his lips and reached out, thumbing across the top of the lace thong you wore. “How is this one even better?”

You tilted your head to the side and pressed closer to him, his palms falling down your sides as you stepped between his knees. “You’re the first person to see this one.”

“Really?” He seemed like a kid in a candy store after being told he could buy whatever he wanted. “I’m honored.” You pulled away from his grasp and he groaned, snatching your hips back between his hands. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve got more to show you,” you informed him, pulling his hands off of you. “Patience, Styles.”

“Baby,” he rasped, the pet name falling from his mouth with ease, and you wondered if you would ever forget how it sounded. “I don’t know if I can survive much more.”

Your eyes fell to his pants, where you could see his hard-on, the outline of his dick straining against the tight denim. “Somebody’s desperate.”

“Tease,” he shot back. “I’m serious, though. I’ll let you finish later.”

You considered his proposal, but ended up pulling away. “One more. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

He groaned, but nodded, shutting his eyes obediently as you moved away from him. At your dresser, you found the set you were looking for, a dark green set. The bra was a balconette cut, lace appliqué covering the cups and running up the straps. You pulled on the suspender belt that matched, the straps dangling down your legs as you put on the thong next. Then, you grabbed a pair of black stockings and clipped them to the bottom of the suspenders. You fluffed your hair a bit and then turned back around.

“Open,” you instructed and when Harry’s eyes opened the moan that left his mouth ran down your spine like fire.

“Fuck.” The word was all he could say, his jaw literally dropping at the sight of you standing there. “Come here.” You didn’t move, though, wanting to hear him beg for you. This set had your confidence soaring through the roof, the combination of the material on your skin and Harry’s gaze making you want to see what you could make him do for you. “Please,” he finally said, shifting towards you.

So you walked over to him, slowly, keeping your shoulders back so the bra strained across your chest. When you reached him you placed a hand on his bare chest, pressing him slightly back so he rested on his hands, eyes staring up at you as you rested a knee on either side of his thighs, sitting down on his lap. “Worth the wait?”

His hands immediately moved, settling on your hips, sliding over the green lace. “You’re going to kill me,” he rasped, words rough in his throat. The sight of his pupils blown out in desire, chest rising and falling under your palm as he took in your body in this set made you grasp the back of his neck and pull his lips towards yours.

The two of you met in a blaze of fire, need flowing between you as he tugged you closer, your center brushing over the denim of his jeans. When you whimpered he suckled on your lip and you pulled at the roots of his hair, needing to hear him groan into your mouth. You wanted to hear every one of his sounds, to take inventory of him and store it away for later when he wasn’t right there in front of you. Lips met and parted, slotting together with ease as you both surged towards one another, begging for more.

His hands were covering every inch of you, pulling and grabbing and scratching at your skin, somehow bringing you closer and closer to him. When you began to rock against his jeans he let out a hiss, pulling your hips down onto his even more. Then his head dipped, nudging up your chin as he found your neck, nibbling and biting at your skin before licking along his marks, leaving you a whining mess in his lap. You were cradling his head, not wanting it to end, just to make him continue and continue and continue.

Now that you had him, you realized how long you had been waiting for this, even if you pretended like you weren’t. You had wanted him since the first time he made a bad joke and told you you looked beautiful, when he responded with a quick remark, countering your sass with plenty of his own. He met you tit for tat, ebbing and flowing with you like waves on a beach.

Your fingers wound around his cross necklace and tugged, just enough to get his lips to leave your skin and look up at you. “Tryin’ to get my attention?” He teased, squeezing at your waist, tight enough that he would probably leave marks but you didn’t mind. In fact, you looked forward to inspecting each inch of your body and seeing what he had left behind.

“Your jeans,” you mumbled. “I want them off.”

He chuckled lightly. “Now who’s the desperate one?”

“Shut up,” you said and he just smiled at you, his dimples poking out.

“Go on, then.” He watched as you slid back on his thighs and popped the button on his jeans, before getting up so you could pull them all the way off. Once they were on the ground, you moved towards him, but he stopped you. “Lay down for me, love,” he said, eyes trailing down your body as you stood in front of him.

You didn’t bother with sass, just falling to the twisted sheets and looking at him as he crawled towards you. His fingers found the clips of your suspenders, and you nodded at him, giving him silent permission to begin to undress you. When he released the stockings and began to pull them down, he kissed every inch of your revealed skin, creating a line down your calf that had your breath coming out in pants. “Harry,” you said, the last syllable of his name trailing off as he did the same thing to your other leg.

“Yes?” He asked, eyes popping up to you. His hair was a mess from your hands and you loved it—the sight of him with wide eyes and puffy dark pink lips, color in his cheeks and marks on his chest from your nails. When you didn’t respond, unable to even create words as he slipped his hands up your body and tugged down the suspender belt that sat at your waist, he said, “You’re going to have to speak up if you’ve got something to say, baby.”

That pet name. It was going to be the death of you and you had no idea why. Maybe because of the emotions swirling in your chest as you looked down at him, the way you wanted to simultaneously lie in his arms for hours and jump his bones, but also just hold his hand and hear him talk to you. Perhaps it was the fact that no one had ever called you that like he did, with desire and passion laced in the word, a tenderness and an edge to it that made you weak in the knees. “I need you,” you finally uttered.

“Do you now,” he responded, leaning forward on his knees so he hovered over you. “Can you be more specific?” Impatient, you grabbed his hand and pressed his fingers to your center, where you had soaked through your thong long ago. A low groan fell from his chest at the feeling of your wetness, and he peeked up at you from where he was touching you. “You’re soaked through,” he said in awe, brushing against your center and making your back arch up. “Fuck, Y/N. Is this for me? Did I get you like this?”

“Yes,” you drawled, pushing down onto his finger. Your mind was spinning, eyes fluttering shut and just losing yourself in the feeling of finally having contact where you needed him most. “Please,” you begged finally, rocking against him with your hips, chasing more.

Harry moved without pause, pulling your underwear down your legs and running his finger between your folds. The feeling of his touch on your warm flesh had you squirming, his name mixed in with curses as he rubbed softly in a circle. “That feel good?” He asked and you could feel his eyes traveling over your body even though your eyes were squeezed shut from the feeling. When he brushed his index finger against your hole which was dripping for him, you gasped, hips jutting down against him so the tip of his finger brushed inside of you. “God, you’re so wet,” he mumbled, almost to himself.

Then, he dipped a finger inside of you and you cried out, desperate and needy for him, unable to contain the sounds falling your lips as he built up a momentum, curling his finger inside of you and hitting your sweet spot. “Another,” you said, eyes finally opening so you could see him.

And the sight didn’t disappoint. His eyes were on your center, watching his finger move in and out of you, and you could see the outline of his bulge in his briefs, a small wet spot where his tip was. The fact that he was leaking while fingering you somehow just added to your pleasure. He added a second finger and pressed them deep inside of you, the cool metal of his rings brushing against your entrance and making you buck up against his fingers. You were squirming on the bed, unable to stay still because he was building an orgasm inside of you like no one else ever had. You could feel your belly tightening and your high was rising, sweat beads forming at the back of your neck.

When he rubbed on your front wall you let out a helpless cry. He had found the spot that made you go insane and you could tell he was happy, a smile stretching across his face. “I’m close,” you panted.

“What do you need?” His words were low and they just made you want him more.

“Your mouth.” The words were broken, but he seemed to understand because he shifted immediately, falling to his stomach between your legs and pulling you towards him. He decided to go harder, because he slammed his fingers into you at a brutal pace and matched it by licking at your nub, sucking and pulling at the sensitive skin. His tongue was sin against your skin, circling your clit and making you cry out. You dug your fingers into his hair and tugged at the strands, his name tumbling from your lips in a beg and a whine and a prayer all in one.

It didn’t take long before you were coming, the feeling rushing up without you even realizing, your back arching and hips bucking against his fingers and mouth. He lapped at you through it, eyes open and watching your orgasm, the shudder that left your mouth and how you fell into the mattress when you came down. When he pulled his fingers from you, you hissed, and he just kissed your pelvic bone, before sitting back on his heels and dipping his fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digits that were covered in your juices.

“Get over here,” you demanded, hooking your foot around his hips and pulling him towards you.

He clamored over you, his lips finding yours once again, and you sighed into the kiss, pulling his mouth closer to you. You needed him like you had never needed anyone else, a feeling that took over your body and ran your mind. When his head dipped and he tugged on your earlobe you whined. “Can I have you,” he asked into your skin. “Please? I waited and I just…fuck, I can’t wait anymore.”

“Yes,” you told him, hands falling to his waist and pushing down his briefs. “Condoms are in my bedside table.”

His head bounced up at that and he reached over, wrenching open the drawer and searching blindly for a packet. When his fingers found one he moved back over you, the foil falling next to your head. Then, he pushed his briefs the rest of the way down his legs, letting the material fall to the floor with the rest of your clothes. Next was your bra, his hands moving to your back and deftly unhooking it, pulling the lace from your skin. “Beautiful,” he hummed, nestling his face between your breasts.

You chuckled, brushing his hair back. “I swear, boys and boobs,” you said.

“Hey,” he replied, picking up his head. “Don’t make me out to be some horny teenager.”

“Aren’t you?” You teased, picking up the condom between your fingers.

“No.” He took the packet and ripped it open with his teeth. “I’m twenty-one, baby.” Then, he rolled the condom down his length and you watched, absorbing his fully naked body for the first time. The cut of the muscles under his skin, the way his tattoos stretched across his torso, the full length of him that you decided you wanted in your mouth after.

He brushed his tip against your slit and you whined unabashedly, rocking towards him. “H,” you mumbled, “please.” That was all he needed, because without another pause he was pressing into you, bottoming out in one go. You let out an unrestrained moan, grappling at his shoulders as he sunk onto his elbows, his face hovering above yours. As he pulled out and pushed back in, a groan from his lips filling the space between you, you watched his face. The way his eyebrows pulled together and he bent his head, resting his forehead against your collarbone as he found his rhythm.

Once he did, it was heaven. His sweaty skin meeting yours as he drove into you at a brutal pace, but one that felt fucking incredible. Your ankles hooked around his hips and held him close inside of you, and you tugged on his necklace to pull his lips to yours, needing the softness of his tongue inside your mouth again. Your hands twisted in his hair, yanking on his strands when he pushed in particularly hard, and he groaned. He liked his hair being pulled, you discovered, and you decided to keep at it, threading your hands through his locks and pulling whenever he hit that spongy spot that made you see stars.

“Like that,” you rasped when he latched his lips to your neck, most definitely leaving a mark on your skin. “Yes, H, just like that. Fuck, you’re so deep.” Your words were a mess, just a stream of consciousness, but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he slammed into you harder and pulled your leg higher, tugging it so that your foot rested over his shoulder and your hamstrings stretched. And when he pushed back in, you scrambled at his back, drawing harsh lines down his skin at the feeling of him reaching a new depth.

“Feel so good,” he mumbled, words broken as they spilled from his lips. “Y/N, god, so good.” His hands fisted in the sheets and you dug your nails into his shoulders when he swiveled his hips slightly, brushing every inch of you. When you squeezed him, his head tipped back, exposing his neck and you leaned up, ignoring the burn in your hamstring, and licked up his throat. He rasped your name as you pulled at the skin at the juncture of his shoulder and neck, making a mark of your own for him to enjoy later.

You fell back down and slipped your leg from its spot on his shoulder, and pulled him close to you, wanting to kiss him again. His lips seemed to be your new obsession, wanting nothing more than to be touching them constantly. He didn’t seem to have a problem with it, slotting your lips between his and kissing you fiercely as he pistoned in and out of you.

There were going to be bruises on your inner thighs, you were sure of it. You would be feeling the impact of his hips on your thighs for days, every time you sat down the muscles would ache and you would remember this—him moving in and out of you and panting in your ear, mumbling about how good you felt around him, how gorgeous you were, how much he loved fucking you. The prospect of feeling him for days was one you looked forward to.

When he gave a particularly deep thrust you moved up on the sheets, grabbing hold of his neck to hold yourself steady, and he moaned. You peeked down at him and as he moved back in, you asked, “Did you like that?”

“Yeah,” he replied, a broken confirmation. “Again, please.”

You’d never really done this before, so you decided to be careful with him, just a bit of pressure using your fingers. With four fingers on one side of his neck and your thumb on the other, halfway down his neck, you pressed down on his skin when he drove back into you and his eyes fluttered shut at the feeling. The heel of your palm rested on the hollow of his neck as your fingers squeezed on either side of his neck, watching in rapture as he fucked into you harder and leaned into your touch. Slowly, you loosened and then tightened your grip, changing it up to make sure he was getting enough air.

“Is that good?” You asked, trying to focus as he drove harshly into you, the sound of his hips slapping your skin filling the room. He bobbed his head and pressed into your palm, so you squeezed your fingers again, wanting to give him what he asked for.

“I’m close,” he said, voice husky.

“Me too,” you answered, kicking your heels higher around his waist and pressing up into him so he reached even deeper inside of you. You could feel that same high building inside of you, an intensity waiting on the brink as he pressed into you, your fingers pressing into his throat again and again.

Then he pulled away slightly, rising up so his arms were fully extended and you couldn’t quite choke him anymore, so your hand fell to his bicep, squeezing at his skin as he somehow moved both faster and deeper inside of you. His hands dug into the sheets and he drove in and out of you at a pace unmatched, your head falling back to the mattress. You were panting, eyes glued to the sight of his necklace swinging back and forth as he moved, the tension in his muscles and the sheen of sweat covering his skin. He was utterly, breathtakingly beautiful.

You couldn’t take it anymore, and reached down between you two, rubbing your fingers over your clit because you were just seconds from the edge and you needed it. Harry’s eyes took in the sight in awe, and his jaw dropped slightly, a curse ripping through his throat as you clenched around him and threw back your head, a deep moan falling through the air. You were squirming underneath him, Harry’s hands having to hold onto your torso to keep you steady as he thrusted into you, finishing himself off as you came, tightening around him. His name left your lips in a beg and he picked up your hand, bringing it back to his throat.

With a tight squeeze, your fingers wrapped around his throat like before, he bucked into you once more and then was practically growling as he emptied himself into the condom, body shaking against you. You unwrapped your hand from his neck and ran your fingers through his hair, before pulling him down to your chest, wanting him close as he pulled out of you. “Holy shit,” he mumbled into your shoulder, and you laughed softly.

“You ever had someone choke you before?” You asked, brushing your fingers up and down his spine as he settled.

“No,” he said, his lips puckering against your throat, light kisses to your skin. “Kind of liked it, though.”

“Kind of?” You squeezed his butt cheek in jest, and he squeaked against you, making you fully laugh, body rumbling against him. “You literally picked up my hand and put it there.”

He tucked his face deeper into your neck and you could tell he was embarrassed. “Okay fine, I really liked it.”

You hummed and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “I did too. It was my first time doing that.”

“Yeah?” He picked up his head and propped it up on his palm, looking at you. “Was it okay?”

Pushing back the hair from his forehead, you nodded. “I thought it was really hot.”

A smile quirked up on his lips. “You mean you think I’m really hot.”

You whacked his shoulder and he feigned pain, jaw dropping slightly. “Stop fishing for compliments.” He rolled his eyes at you, but moved off of your body, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling off the condom, tying the end and tossing it in the trash. Red marks covered his back from your nails and you ran your hand over them, watching as he shivered from the sensitivity. “If anyone sees your back they’re going to think you got fucking mauled by a bear.”

He turned his head and raised his eyebrow at you. “A bear, huh? I thought it was just this really hot girl.”

“Good to know you think I’m hot too.” He laughed and turned fully around, crawling back into bed with you.

The sheets were sweaty but you didn’t mind, you just wanted to be close to him. He laid down on his back and pulled you in, your leg draping over his and your breasts pushing up against his side. Your head rested on his shoulder and you let out a breath, relaxing into his hold.

After you’d been lying there for a few minutes, he cleared his throat and you looked up at him. “You know,” he said, “I don’t know if this was obvious, but I really like you.”

His ring-clad fingers trailed up your back, drawing circles against your skin. You considered his words, rolling them over in your head, and considered your own feelings. Where did you stand? You knew you liked him based on how you felt around him, this just constant desire to have his hands on you. The way you could joke around with him and the banter between you made you feel at ease, a kind of comfort with him that you hadn’t found with anyone else. He was gorgeous and kind and a bit of an idiot, but you found it endearing. You also, admittedly, loved how obsessed he was with you. “I like you too,” you replied, turning your head so you could fully look at him, your chin resting on his chest.

He looked down at you, sliding his forearm under his head. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, kissing the skin nearest to you. “Really like you, even.”

“Well thank god,” he said, pinching your skin slightly. “It would’ve been really awkward if you didn’t.”

“Why is that?”

He smiled at you. “I might’ve introduced myself as your boyfriend to your doorman.”

You rolled your eyes at him and pushed up, moving so you could hover over him fully, hands on either side of his head. “Does this mean I have to go to all of your formals and shit with you?”

“Obviously,” he replied, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “And my drinks at 260 are going to be free.” You huffed at his request for you to make all his drinks at the bar you worked at to be free, but Harry was having none of it. “Come on, baby, I’ll come to every one of your shifts.”

“Fine,” you answered, sliding your knees up his sides so you could sit squarely over the laurels on his pelvis. “But you have to bring me a snack.”

“Oh,” he said, quirking up his lips in a smirk, “baby I’m a full meal.” You swatted at his chest and he laughed, grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm, before tugging you back into him. You fell into him with ease, unable to hold up any walls to him anymore. Somehow, he had busted through each one of them and you didn’t want to rebuild them. Having him wrapped up in your heart was perfectly fine with you, you thought to yourself when he kissed the top of your head and asked if you wanted pancakes.

Yeah, you decided, you could get used to this.

fill my inbox with your favorite moments, lines, things you’re having ~feels~ about, or other concepts you’re dreaming up for bartender!y/n!!!!

#harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x mc #harry styles smut #college au #college harry styles #harry styles #fratboy harry #frat boy au #fratboy!harry #frat boy fan fiction #fratboy!harry fan fiction #bartender!y/n

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glowingbadger · 3 years

Note

do you have anything in the ask box abt sfw + nsfw hcs w caspar and linhardt??-- if not, could i rq them pls?

Two Very Good Boys TM why have I not written more for them yet lol - especially Lin, he's a fav of mine for sure~

Also. Can I just say. Linhardt has so much Game. Like, half of his support chains end with him being like "what if we fucked and/or got married haha jk... unless?" and the other person just 👀👉��

Caspar, Linhardt x GN Reader

SFW (nsfw below the cut)

Caspar:

- Caspar is as intense and energetic about love as he is about everything else. His feelings for you grow steadily as you work together as friends and allies, and he eventually realizes that there's a reason why he's always bizarrely excited for dull monastery chores like supply runs and patrols when he's assigned with you.

- When he finally confesses, it's in the middle of some such chore. He's been staring at you oddly as you work, until he abruptly says your name, then blurts out, "I think I'm in love with you." He practically shouts it at you, his eyes fiery and his face red. Once you work past the shock of the moment and affirm that you feel the same, he pumps a fist in the air, then laughs as he lifts you and spins you in a circle.

- He's not exactly "smooth" and doesn't have much romantic experience, but his unwavering sincerity and desire to be good to you makes up significantly for these. He's terrible at surprise gifts, since he always wants to get you something you'll love, so he'll spoil it by saying something like "So how do you feel about danishes??" right before heading to the best bakery in town. But when you thank him, wearing one of those warm, genuine smiles- he just melts, and he figures he doesn't have to be smooth or clever as long as he can make you smile like that.

- This. Man. Is a Cuddler. He doesn't like to be "mushy" in public, but he truly adores every-day physical displays of affection. He can't help swinging your hands a little when your fingers are laced during a walk through town, and if you're alone together, he just habitually has to be holding or touching you somehow. Caspar was never one to sit still for long- until he realizes that holding you to his chest while the two of you chat on his bed is completely addictive.

Linhardt:

- Oh Lin, this beautiful weirdo. For a long while, you won't get much of a love confession from him; instead, he just continuously puts himself near you. He doesn't need anything from you, and there's no pressure to keep him occupied in conversation- he just finds he's soothed in your presence. He doesn't question it until he finds himself even choosing your company over his studies or sleep. Then, for some time, he actually finds this new feeling rather disturbing.

- Finally, you're both enjoying a sunny afternoon, reading, casually chatting a bit, him dozing off periodically. In a quiet moment when you'd assumed he was fast asleep, he instead turns towards you and quite suddenly says, "If I were to tell you that I find myself quite insistent upon being near you at every possible opportunity, how would you describe that feeling?" when you don't give an immediate response, he follows this up with, "Would you consider that romantic attraction? Perhaps I really have fallen for you... hm..."

- Linhardt doesn't have much of a memory for birthdays and holidays (his mind is generally occupied with any number of other things), but you're not likely to find yourself doubting his feelings for you, nor his commitment. That's because he's very blunt about telling you. The delicate propriety of the nobility is of very little concern to him, so he feels no hesitation about placing a kiss to your lips in the middle of the (very occupied) library and telling you, "My, you are exceptionally lovely today." Before, of course, returning to his search for whatever tome he'd insisted he needs to review for his latest topic of interest.

- He is an excellent listener when you've had a stressful day or are in a bad mood. Though you will need to tell him directly if you're just looking to vent, because he's one to always think of a straightforward solution for you. But, as a creature of his comforts, Lin is wonderful at helping you relax. He'll hold you and rub small circles along your back until one or both of you dozes off- if you need it, he'll even force himself to stay up long enough to talk more, or recite some list of known crest effects until his gentle, even voice lulls you to sleep.

NSFW 18+ v

Caspar:

- He likes sex intense and passionate, and has no problem "doing most of the work," as it were. You may have to guide his pace a bit, as he can get a bit too excited- but he has immense stamina, so you'll certainly be satisfied by the end. In fact, he's fully capable of cumming more than once in a night, with a fairly short refractory period, so if you're up for it, fucking Caspar can become quite a workout in its own right.

- Caspar can be pretty bitey- he loves marking you and being marked, and even he's surprised by how much he just loves burying himself at the crook of your neck, or at your chest, or your lower stomach. He's been attracted to people before, sure, but he's never known he could be so absolutely entranced by someone's body before you.

- As you'd imagine, he's pretty vocal in bed, and likes it when you are too. His pleasured grunts and moans are completely shameless, communicating exactly how incredible you make him feel. He doesn't have much of an innate sense for dirty talk, but he loves it when you talk dirty. Even simple encouragement, like "Oh, Caspar- fuck, just like that! Mmmh- your cock feels so good-!" gets his body burning to his very core. He never realized it before, but his ultimate weakness is when you can tell he's getting close, and you moan out that you want him to cum for you. It's his kryptonite, and his body shudders as a powerful orgasm takes over him.

- His cock is about average length-wise, but it is thick and very nicely veined. He's not excessively sensitive or anything, but if you manage to tie him up or force him to slow his pace in some other way, it is deliciously easy to reduce him to a whiny, needy mess. He'll buck his hips up as you tease the tip of his cock with a slickened finger, desperation in his eyes as he groans out, "Ungh, Y/N, this is torture- please, I- I want you so bad-!"

Linhardt:

- He's deeply focused and fascinated by your body, and will study you for as long as you can withstand his gentle touch. He wants to know your every single turn on, your every tender sweet spot, and wants to hear every possible way you can moan his name. Related- I've seen a lot of people assume Lin is entirely and exclusively a bottom out of laziness, and I firmly disagree. We've seen how intensely he commits himself to the things that have caught his interest, and once you're his, he's going to learn everything he can about your pleasure. He's open minded and willing to try almost anything at least once, provided it's not too strenuous.

- Lin very much enjoys exploring some less expected erotic pleasures; things like circling your fingertips with his tongue, then nipping and sucking at the tender skin, or fucking between your thighs or ass cheeks without fully entering you until you beg him. His easy self-confidence and patience make him something of an unintentional soft dom. It's not that he aims to make you whimper and beg for him before he finally enters you- it's just that he's enjoying your body so much that he doesn't feel the need to rush.

- He loves cockwarming. Lying comfortably on his side with you cradled against him and his length buried in your warm little hole- it's absolute heaven for him. He gets to relax and feel completely at ease and even a little sleepy as you hold him deep inside of you, and it's adorable when you squirm a little, trying to get his cockhead to rub into you a certain way. He gives a light chuckle and nuzzles against the back of your neck, murmuring, "Now, now, don't be impatient- aren't you comfortable?"

- He's not much of a fan of the mess that can come with sex, and resents the cleanup time required, as once he's cum, he wants nothing more than to just hold you close and let your steady breathing lull him to sleep. So, he'll generally do his best to minimize marks, or a mess of cum- though, given his method is frequently to lick you clean, who's complaining.

#caspar von bergliez #linhardt von hevring #caspar x reader #linhardt x reader #fire emblem #feh #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem headcanons #fluff and smut #fire emblem smut #fire emblem x reader

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1-800-smash · 4 years

Note

Oh wait I just realised we could ask for the whole alphabet for a character,, could you for Dabi?

「 next time won’t you sing with me. 」

feat. dabi.

summary: learning the alphabet with dabi is easy, as long as you can still remember what he taught you afterwards ;)

warnings: nsfw content.

word count: 1.9k

request: @inanabsentia — ❝Oh wait I just realised we could ask for the whole alphabet for a character,, could you for Dabi?❞

@anon — ❝Can u do a, c, d and I with Dabi pls 🥺🥺❞

@anon — ❝Omg pls could you do BFKO for Dabi (for the alphabet thing) 🥺🤲❞

@guijh103 — ❝Hii, could you make B,E,F,H,N,V,X,W,Z for Dabi pls.❞

@anon — ❝a, f , i, y on dabi please? 🥺💞❞

a/n: oh my, it seems everyone wants a piece of this beef jerky :0 don’t worry, i see you guys! i’m doing bakugo next, so be on the look out for that one! i hope you enjoy it! ♡ — shelbs.

submitted — [09.20.18]

nsfw under the cut.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

⚘ he’s not that big on aftercare.

⚘ if you want to be pampered after sex you’re looking at the wrong person, hun.

⚘ anything you want you can just get it yourself, at least that’s how he sees it.

⚘ you’re a big girl who can take a big cock, so that means you can do the rest by yourself.

⚘ he’s knows it a dick move but he just doesn’t care.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

⚘ he likes your ass, especially when he’s spanking it until its a nice red color while he fucks you from behind.

⚘ he loves to knead the soft flesh there when your making out and things are getting heated.

⚘ or on the rare occasion he lets you ride him he’ll love to grab your ass and slam you down on his cock.

⚘ the surprised scream that comes out of you makes his mouth twist up into a proud smirk.

⚘ your being impaled on his cock and he fucking loves it, he might even let you do it more often just to hear those sweet sounds of yours.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

⚘ he LOVES to cum on your face.

⚘ when you go down on him, right as he’s about to cum he’ll pull out and paint your entire face white like it’s a canvas.

⚘ doesn’t mind cumming on either the insides of your thighs or your stomach.

⚘ but do NOT ask him to cum inside you, that’s a huge no no.

⚘ “eat shit i’m not putting a demon inside you” vibe.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

⚘ he gets off being the dominant one.

⚘ he likes having control over the situation and being able to decide what will happen.

⚘ he’s still having trouble with his own past and trying to distance himself from what happened.

⚘ but now, in this situation, he can take back control.

⚘ and you’re so willing to hand it over to him, you trust him.

⚘ and it makes him just the slightest bit contented to know that.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

⚘ he has experience, but if i’m being honest here he doesn’t see sex as a big deal.

⚘ he wouldn’t be out there looking to get laid every day of the week but if shit happens, it happens.

⚘ but don’t be discouraged, you obviously mean something a little more to dabi than some random fuck if he keeps showing up uninvited.

⚘ he might not admit it out right, but even though he doesn’t think sex is a big deal he’s still not going to sleep with just anyone.

⚘ remember that next time he’s eating your pussy out until you can’t see straight.

⚘ because no other girl could be this lucky.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

⚘ likes fucking you doggy style the most, his hand forcing your head down into the mattress while he just pound into you relentlessly.

⚘ or maybe taking you against a wall, that’s always fun for him.

⚘ your legs wrap around his hips nicely while the wet sound of skin slapping against skin echoes throughout the room.

⚘ he thinks face to face is a too personal.

⚘ and no matter how much he loves having sex with you, he’s not ready to open himself up to some things yet.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

⚘ he takes fucking your brains out to be a very serious matter.

⚘ he might make a sarcastic remark or a cruel joke here and there.

⚘ but don’t expect him to be lighthearted about it.

⚘ every word that comes out of this man’s mouth is dripping with sin.

⚘ he doesn’t have time to joke around when he’s too busy making your pussy twitch deliciously on his tongue.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

⚘ he’s surprisingly well groomed.

⚘ he says he doesn’t like when gets too unkempt, so he keeps it trimmed.

⚘ his pubes are the same charcoal black as the hair on his head.

⚘ same texture too but a bit softer.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

⚘ he’s not intimate at all, this is just sex for him.

⚘ he might slip up and for just a second you can see a softer look in his eyes when he thinks you can’t see him.

⚘ when he realized what he was doing he went a little harder on you than usual that day.

⚘ he wasn’t mad at you but more at himself.

⚘ in a different world maybe he’d be a more loving partner, kissing you all over and whispering sweet words or love and admiration.

⚘ but that is not the case, and in this world he’s still dabi.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

⚘ he doesn’t jack off often but when he does he’ll think of you.

⚘ won’t ever admit it but goddamn he has the best orgasms when he does.

⚘ and it gives him ideas on what he’ll do to you later.

⚘ but to be honest, he doesn’t see masturbation as a necessary thing and can go quite a while without doing it.

⚘ no nut november, who?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

⚘ what kinks doesn’t he have, is the real question.

⚘ deep-throating is his absolute favorite, he loves watching your swollen lips envelope around his cock.

⚘ spanking is one he’ll do quite often too, especially if you’ve been an absolute brat.

⚘ i’m not kidding, your ass will be so sore after that you won’t be able to sit for few days.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

⚘ he doesn’t have a preference.

⚘ if the need arises he’ll fuck you up against the wall in an empty alleyway if he wants to.

⚘ and it’s not like you’re complaining either.

⚘ but he would prefer a bed over anything else, he doesn’t like how cold it can be outside.

⚘ especially on his balls.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

⚘ nothing turns him on more than seeing you sitting there waiting for him so seductively.

⚘ he knows you want him he just wants you to show him how much.

⚘ he’s not used to getting this kind of attention with the way he looks so seeing you wanting him this badly will definitely turn him on.

⚘ he’ll take this with him to the grave, but he’s grateful he had someone to spend time with even if it was just sex.

⚘ and you mean a little more to him than most.

⚘ but you didn’t hear that from me.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

⚘ he will admit that even he can go too far sometimes, he knows that.

⚘ and you know that, at least you should by now at the very least.

⚘ but even he has his limits.

⚘ nothing that is too gross or dehumanizing.

⚘ he still sees you as a person, and from his own past experiences he tries to remember that.

⚘ he would expect the same from you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

⚘ he prefers to receive, remember what i said about loving to cum on your face?

⚘ but if he goes down on you, just know that you’re special.

⚘ dabi just doesn’t give a fuck when it comes to sex, but when he’s actually trying to make you feel good then you know he likes you.

⚘ in his own twisted way, of course.

⚘ but that still won’t stop him from absolutely destroying you inside and out, no in fact, it just gives him more incentive to.

⚘ so if you want him to go a little easy on you, make sure to open that pretty mouth of yours nice and good.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

⚘ two words: FAST and ROUGH.

⚘ do not expect anything less from him.

⚘ he’s the dominant one when you in this arrangement and he’s not going to give that up for no one.

⚘ not even for you.

⚘ he’s going to be fucking you so hard into the mattress until your absolutely screaming his name.

⚘ and be warned that if you’re being even the slightest bit bratty, he’s going to punish you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

⚘ he really likes them and sometimes even prefers them over regular sex.

⚘ just fair warning though, he’s not going to be gentle at all.

⚘ this will mostly be about getting him off, so if you don’t get much out of it that’s not his problem.

⚘ any feelings of guilt won’t stick around for long though, and if your a good girl he might even fuck you again that night.

⚘ just to how that while he may be a villain, he’s still looking out for you in his own way.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

⚘ oh he loves to take risks.

⚘ he sees it as kind of pointless if there isn’t at least some risk involved.

⚘ he can’t help but love the way your eyes shrink in fear a little if his hand puts just a little too much pressure on your neck.

⚘ you know he wouldn’t actually kill you, at least not like this.

⚘ but the thought still lingers in the back of your mind...

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

⚘ he can last a few an hour or two at most with how many rounds depending on how long the first was.

⚘ but it’s also important to note that while dabi loves to fuck you, he doesn’t want to spend all night having sex.

⚘ he’s fine going a couple rounds but when he’d done he’s done.

⚘ even if you didn’t get to finish or not.

⚘ but let’s not kid ourselves here, you most certainly did.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

⚘ be expected to be introduced to toys at some point if you guys continue to see each other.

⚘ he owns all kinds with every intention of pleasure and punishment.

⚘ noting gets him off more than watching your thighs quake around him as he fucks a vibrator into you.

⚘ but he’s quick to turn your pleasure into his own when he over-stimulates you until you’re on the verge of tears, your knuckles turning white from how hard you’re grasping onto the sheets underneath you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

⚘ it depends on his mood.

⚘ sometimes he wastes no time and just wants to bury himself into your tight cunt already.

⚘ other times, he’ll make you beg for his cock on your knees like a good girl.

⚘ you’ve got to earn it.

⚘ but don’t even think about teasing him, that’s one mistake you won’t ever make again.

⚘ trust me.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

⚘ he doesn’t make a lot of noise.

⚘ slight hisses and groans are expected, he doesn’t like to moan a lot.

⚘ but he does get nosier the closer he is to cumming.

⚘ he prefers to make you moan more than he ever will, it’s just so addicting to hear.

⚘ he’ll do whatever it takes to draw out those sweet, sweet noises from that sinful mouth of yours.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

⚘ the two of you have definitely done anal, i mean come on.

⚘ he already loves your ass as much as it is.

⚘ would definitely tell you to get on your hands and needs as he aligns himself with your hole.

⚘ he’d get the lube out of the side table and pour it over his cock, he’s not that cruel.

⚘ it feels so fucking good to him but whether or not you like it is a whole other story.

⚘ if you two have been seeing each other for a good time now he’d respect it if you didn’t want to do it again.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

⚘ he’s a solid 6.1 inches, circumcised.

⚘ and jesus christ does he know how to fuck you with it.

⚘ would it be too much to say that you love his cock?

⚘ what am i saying, of course it wouldn't.

⚘ saying anything less would be a crime punishable by death.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

⚘ it surprisingly isn’t that high.

⚘ now don’t get me wrong, he loves to fuck you and will happily do so.

⚘ but like i said, sex isn’t a big deal to him.

⚘ if it were he’d have a bigger sex drive then he does now.

⚘ not to mention most people don’t want to have sex with someone who looks like he does, and he’s accepted that.

⚘ now that he’s found someone that does though his sex drive might increase more.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

⚘ he’s not very quick to fall asleep.

⚘ more than likely he’ll go outside for a smoke after you’ve both finished.

⚘ or lie in bed and just get lost in his own thoughts, but sleeping isn’t on his mind that’s for sure.

⚘ he’ll be more likely to fall asleep if you’ve taken a lot out of him or if he was more rough than usual.

@cocoa-bitter @micchikari @cherrymyeon @tiaraowens @dane-1212 @tenaciousgothstudentauthor @kac-chowsballs @cockaimeruben @fandomwhoresblog @shoutosteakettle

want to be added to my tagslist? click here.

#dabi #dabi x reader #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #BNHA Headcanons #my hero academia #mha #mha x reader #mha headcanons

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aghostlybao · 3 years

Note

🏳️‍🌈 boggie

anon, thank you so much for responding to my post!! i give you bobby's first ever pride, boggie style!

multicolored steps to bravery

warnings: none. however, if you do find anything you think are triggering then pls send me a msg and tag the reblogs accordingly. thank you!

navigating through one’s gender/sexuality is confusing and overwhelming, especially when you’re at an age where society expects you to have an established sense of self. it is absolutely okay to remain uncertain of what label, if any, suits you best. and it is also okay to change the label you’ve chosen to identify yourself as somewhere down the line or to forgo labels altogether.

or bobby watches his friends grow && celebrate their gender/sexuality with pride while he ends up even more confused && thinks that he's running out of time to figure out where he belongs.

writing below the cut. excuse my grammar, english is difficult af but i hope you enjoy it

multicolored steps to bravery

There were times Bobby felt like an outsider, an audience witnessing the growth of his friends rather than growing with them. While Alex found out about his sexuality at 12, Luke following right after, and Reggie two years later, but Bobby at 18, still didn’t know where he belonged in the gender and sexuality spectrum. And every year, as his friends went through heartbreaks, his own experience never went past an awkward peck on the lips during a spin-the-bottle game when he was 13. While they grew confident and proud, showcasing their gender and sexuality, and becoming supportive figures to the younger students at their high school since sophomore year; Bobby reeled back and firmly smiled as others labeled him as the token straight friend of the group.

But at 23, Bobby finally found the courage to join his friends at the annual pride festivities, while still being 100% unsure of his identity. Bobby lounged on the living room sofa, feet nonchalantly propped up on the coffee table, and munched on sliced green apples dipped in sriracha sauce as they put the finishing touches to their outfits.

Reggie stole the fruit out of his hand, “you okay?”

“Yeah, Reg.” He happily fed the bassist another slice, “just sleepy.” Bobby was grateful that Reggie remained quiet about the obvious lie that came out of his mouth.

Reggie did a 360-degree turn on the spot and wiggled his fingers when he came to a stop. “What do you think? Willie painted the back panel,” he turned away and showcased the very artwork he was talking about, a bass guitar in the colors of the bisexual flag. “Julie added the studs!”

His own outfit, dull and monotone, wasn’t even worth comparing against their elaborate looks.

Bobby tried, really tried not to entertain him not belonging, or that it affected him every time a stranger screamed in delight, gave them high fives, and with some going as far as giving hugs because of the colors that adorned their bodies. But it was difficult not to when they were bouncing with so much excitement that it made his head spin. Reggie’s presence didn’t even register until his hand received a comforting squeeze. “You okay, Bee?”

When had he stopped walking? Bobby mechanically smiled, forcibly making the outer corner of his eyes crinkle. “yeah dude, just got lost in my thoughts. We should catch up with them.” Neither of them moved from the spot.

Right before them were rows of pride flags varying in sizes and colors to represent the entire LGBTQIA+ community. The growing crowd turned into a blur of multicolored identities, from Alex and his partner, Willie in their rainbow splattered dungarees with the demisexual flag painted on one of Willie’s pant leg to Luke’s arms covered in swirls of pink, yellow, and cyan. And Reg, Reggie’s leather jacket customized with magenta, lavender, and royal blue studs, and the hand-painted bass guitar in the same colors was a stark contrast to his full black outfit.

“Reg?” Bobby still didn’t have the answer to the question he’s been asking himself since Alex came out to them at 12, “I don’t think I’m straight... or gay, or bi, or pan…” He continued when Reggie took hold of both his hands, a silent encouragement to keep going. “Actually, I have no clue what to identify as, not the way all of you do. I-I thought I was asexual but then I found out about its sub-identities, then people started referring to me as the token straight.”

Bobby rolled his shoulders back, lifting his head to return Reggie’s gaze. “I was hoping I’d have it all figured out by now but I’m thinking that it may never happen.” He briefly searched for any sign that he should stop talking but Reggie met uncertainty with a soft smile. “I like you.” He dropped to a squat, groaning in frustration. Talk about finesse. He swore under his breath, “I had this entire confession planned out, and I fu-And you’re laughing at me!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ve never heard you speak for long or look so scared. Remember that rottweiler living across the school and Luke dared me to go pet it?”

“Yeah, you cried and fainted.”

“Exactly!”

“I don’t get it…”

“That’s how I feel towards you!”

“You’re... scared of me?”

Reggie crouched down in front of him, beaming, “yeah! Wait. No! I was in the beginning, you were super cool and I told the guys that it was unfair how you owned the ‘haven’t slept but still hot’ look while I looked like a turtle every morning!” Halfway through his ramblings, the two of them had changed their position and comfortably sat crossed-legged in the middle of the street. Bobby was far too entranced to care about the looks of annoyance being thrown at them.

“My point is,” he pursed his lips, “I like you too, Bobby.” To prevent Bobby from countering, Reggie pushed his cheeks together, making him look like an inverted version of a pufferfish.

“And before you ask, it’s good enough for me. We don’t even have to put a label on it!”

“I don’t know... being called your boyfriend sounds nice.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, Reg.”

“Okay, boyfriend.”

“Ew.” Bobby quickly stood up, cackling as Reggie chased him through the multicolored crowd.

#anon response #jatp one shot #jatp au #boggie #bobby jatp #bobby supremacy #reggie peters #jatp drabble #boggie brain rot #jatp #just writing stuff #short one shot #astrowritings

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misc-headcanons · 4 years

Text

3rd Place Prize: Ace SFW/NS.FW Letters

For @dam-snackbar, 3rd place winner of the 1000+ Follower Giveaway!

SFW

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

It'd likely start when his future friend joins Whitebeard's crew, and he wanted to go introduce himself to the newest member of the family. He'd be his usual cool-yet-dorky self, and a more perceptive person might be able to tell he's got more going on than that happy and relaxed persona of his. It would take a while to get past that guard of his, and if he trusted you enough he would eventually open up about his past. If you told him that you didn't care who his father was, just who he is, he'd be shocked (might get all silent and pull down his hat to hide how he's close to crying).

Ace seems like an ambivert to me, where he'd be down with going out on a deserted island for a two-person adventure or just chilling in his cabin and napping together. He could really go either way, so he can vibe with extroverted and introverted friends. He's also the kind of guy who can make you laugh after having a horrible day, just by putting his head on your shoulder and saying something that should just be mildly funny, but the way he says it makes it fucking hilarious.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Settling down is...a complicated desire of his. He really would like to enjoy a comfortable life with his family on the crew (and maybe an s/o, if one should come along), but sometimes he feels as though he doesn't deserve to have a happy life like that because he's the Devil's Child. And the more he wishes for it, the more self-loathing he has for even wishing for something so selfish.

He's better at cooking than cleaning, but not by much. If it's meat, he can make a damn good grilled/cooked/seared dish. If it's literally anything else, you're likely gonna get a dish that'll taste either pretty good (because he used a lot of heat) or charred and horrifying (because he used a lot of heat). If you're like me and love marshmallows (especially ones that are fucking BURNT TO ABSOLUTE BLACKNESS), he will absolutely become a living campfire. It's one of the best family activities on the Moby Dick: roasting marshmallows in a circle with Ace in the middle of it!

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

When he finally summoned the courage to tell you about himself and his heritage. He expected you to avoid him from now on, at the very least. Most pirates tend to attack/harass him (if they're not part of the crew), or tell him he'll never be able to live up to Roger's legacy. Even on the Whitebeard crew, at first his mates tended to ask a bunch of questions about Roger and his mom and whatnot; when they saw how uncomfortable it made him, they stopped bringing Roger up when talking to him.

When you told him it didn't really change much in terms of how you see him, he was equal parts shocked and relieved. The last time someone said something like that, it was when he befriended Luffy and Sabo (and later on after joining the crew, Marco and the rest of Whitebeard's family).

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He doesn't pay much attention to his appearance, believe it or not. He brushes his teeth when he remembers to, he runs a comb through his hair (more often though, he'll just use his fingers)...not much effort is put into his looks. He's just naturally pretty, lol. He's used to getting some flirty comments and glances when he's traveling, but he's got very little experience actually reciprocating and flirting back; he doesn't really see what all the fuss is about.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

I think "incomplete" isn't the right word. Ace has a lot of self-loathing and I wouldn't be surprised if he had depression. If you've seen "Bojack Horseman", Ace feels a lot like Diane and Bojack--where he's nothing but a pit that good things and people fall into. Regardless of whether or not he had an s/o, he would feel like a pit instead of a real person sometimes. An s/o who really loved him would lead to these episodes happening less frequently, but it may not lead to him feeling like a "complete person" either.

NS.FW BELOW!

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

He has two preferred position types: if he's feeling especially romantic and gentle, he wants one where he can hold his partner close and look them in the eyes (he's cool with either missionary or something like https://sexpositions.club/positions/55.html) If he's incredibly horny and wants to fuck his s/o's brains out as opposed to "making love", he wants a position where he can easily grab his partner's hips and ass. (https://sexpositions.club/positions/187.html)

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing his s/o wearing his hat or his clothes (pls pls PLS ride him while wearing his cowboy hat, he'll want to marry you on the spot); any kind of flirting/groping/teasing in public; running your fingers down the base of his neck. He's got the libido of a man in his 20s, though--his s/o could give him eye contact and a smidge of affection and he'd have a tent in his pants the size of the Moby Dick.

#one piece #one piece headcanon #one piece headcanons #ace #portgas d. ace #ns.fw #1000+ followers #mine

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tomthesoftie · 4 years

Note

Can u pls do a tom imagine with prompt 2, 12, 15, 20, 48

for the best

a/n: depending on how this does, i will make a part 2 to it, so stick around... this is the first richkid au i’ve ever written and it doesn’t really feel much like it, more so like mob but not really... enjoy my lovelies xx

pairing: richkid!tom x reader

warnings: a pinch of fluff in the beginning, AnGsT, heartbreak, );

masterlist add yourself on my taglist!

2. “Close the door.”

12. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

15. “Watch me.”

20. “I want an answer, goddammit!”

48. “Walk out that door and we’re through.”

The Hollands hosted a weekly party on every Friday night, and you, being Tom’s girlfriend, always attended by his side. He spoiled you with piles and piles of luxuries, all to which you declined. You didn’t want to seem like a gold digger. Your family wasn’t as rich as the Hollands, but your family was in the upper-middle class.

Tom always gave you a new dress to wear to the party, making excuses to convince you to accept it. Usually he would use money, but ever since you slapped some sense into him, he never touched his wallet around you unless it was to necessary.

This week, he gave you a red satin dress with a deep v-neck and a cinched waist. The skirt flowed to the floor, a slit decorating the front. Although the dress looked like it would be a hassle to put on, it slipped onto you as easily as a glove. You wore nude heels and dangling diamonds earrings Tom had given you to tie the outfit together. You curled your hair to perfection and placed a section over your left shoulder.

“You ready, love?” Tom knocked on the door.

Looking at yourself once more in the mirror, you added a light layer of setting spray over your bold makeup look and replied, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You heard the door click open, “Wow,” a soft voice spoke.

Turning around, your eyes met your lover’s dilating pupils. You blushed at his reaction and made your way over to him.

“So, lover boy, are we going or are you going to keep ogling me?” You asked seductively, gently grazing his chest as you walked past him.

“I can’t help it, love,” his voice was hoarse with lust, “you’re absolutely stunning.”

Rolling your eyes, you responded, “I just know how to put the right pieces together, silly. Now, let’s crash this party!”

You swayed your hips as you walked over to the ballroom. The dress added a seductive effect, making Tom feel his pants tighten. He readjusted his tie and gulped, turning a faint red.

“Get a grip, Tommy,” you laughed at the hormonal boy, “you’ve got guests to entertain.”

He rushed to pull the door open for you, politely bowing and signaling for you to enter. Thanking him, you entered the room, gaining a few stares and glances from the guests. Tom walked in behind you and placed a hand on the small of your back, urging you forward.

“Oh,” Tom caught sight of his family, “I’ve gotta go, love. Stay safe, alright?”

“When am I not?” You smiled up at him, placing a gentle kiss to his cheek before letting him walk away.

“Y/N L/N,” a voice spoke from behind you.

Your hair elegantly flowed as you turned to face the familiar voice, “Hazza?”

“How’d you know?” He chuckled.

“You’re so stupid,” you giggled.

“So, Tom left you all alone again?” He grabbed two champagne glasses of a passing waiter’s tray, handing a drink to you.

“He has to. Besides, it doesn’t bother me, especially since I know some people here, like you,” you smiled gently.

An hour passed and Tom was still going around and talking to the guests. This wasn’t the longest amount of time that he left. Luckily, Harrison was kind enough to stay with you the entire time.

You and Haz were in a conversation, talking about your golfing fails it was mostly Haz laughing at you. The sweet accented voice of your boyfriend lightly met your ears but what he had said was incoherent. That was until he moved closer.

“Welcome, Aurelia, darling. It’s been a while,” his voice cut off.

Harrison noticed your sudden change in mood. He looked around to see if there were any hints to the difference, and when he saw Tom kissing Aurelia’s hand, he realized why you were suddenly so cold.

Aurelia and Tom had a history. They were past lovers and initially arranged to get married, but you changed both the Hollands’ and Beaumonts’ plans. Aurelia grew to dislike you. In the Beaumonts’ standards, you weren’t rich enough to have any of their attention. Tom was truly in love with her, but you were something else. Tom would feel euphoria whenever he was with you. Aurelia thought that she and Tom were meant for each other, so she was absolutely heartbroken when she found out they wouldn’t be getting married.

“Tommy! Let’s have a drink. Just you and me, lover boy,” you cringed when you heard her call Tom the nickname you called him only hours ago.

“Alright,” his sultry voice responded.

You felt a twinge of betrayal hearing his response. You couldn’t help but be jealous of his past relationship with her. They were in love, accepted by all.

Tears pricked your eyes. You ruined their relationship selfishly to give yourself something that was never yours to take.

“Y/N,” Haz breathed pitifully, seeing your eyes gloss over.

Blinking away the tears, you plastered a fake smile onto your face, “It’s alright, Hazza,” you said with faux serenity. “Please excuse me.”

You made your way over to Tom and Aurelia, the fake smile still plastered across your face. They were laughing and enjoying themselves,

They really did look like the perfect couple.

“Pardon me, Aurelia,” you said quietly from behind the couple, “may I borrow Tom for a minute or two? I promise to return him as soon as I’m finished talking with him.”

Tom turned around to face you, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Aurelia had a look of hatred and jealousy on her face when she saw you.

Faking a giggle, she kindly replied, “Of course. There’s no need to worry, I’ll be here waiting.”

You silently thanked her and dragged Tom to the bathroom.

“What’s wrong, love?” Tom asked, looking concerned.

“Close the door,” you whispered.

“Alright, but we can’t do anything just yet. I still have more walking around to do tonight. Unless, do you want me to-” you raised a finger, silencing him.

“i’m sorry,” you sniffled, eyes avoiding Tom’s gaze.

“What? What are you sorry for?” He asked a panicked tone in his voice.

“You and Aurelia are made for each other,” you said, eyes locked to the floor.

“What? Aurelia? You’ve got it all wrong. We,” he signaled to the both of you, “We are made for each other. We’re soulmates.”

“No, we’re not! Aurelia is. I was being selfish, and I broke apart your perfect relationship,” tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Y/N-” he began.

“Don’t. You have a future with her. I wouldn’t get you anywhere. Besides, you have a history with her,” you sulked, saying the last bit with a pang of jealousy.

“You’re still going on about that? Are you never going to let that go?” His voice rose with anger.

“I won’t let it go because if it weren’t for me, you’d still be together today, wouldn’t you be? Hell, you’d probably married her by now. I’m right, aren’t I?” Your faux serenity began cracking.

He didn’t reply, now avoiding your gaze.

“I want an answer, goddammit!” Tears flew from your eyes.

“Y/N-” he tried.

“Stop avoiding the question! Just answer it,” you snapped.

He couldn’t look at you. You were right after all. He would probably be married to Aurelia now if it weren’t for you, but you were a blessing in disguise.

“Just as I thought,” you sighed, “I’ll return all of your gifts to me as soon as I can.”

“W-What do you mean?” He asked, fearing what you would say next.

“I’m leaving, Thomas. Enjoy your evening,” you reached towards the doorknob, but his hand gripped your wrist.

“Y/N, if you walk out of that door, we’re through,” Tom said, hoping you’d stay.

“Thank you for the memories, Thomas, but watch me.”

And with that, you ripped your arm from his grasp, leaving him to sulk alone in the bathroom.

It’s for the best.

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playitaagain · 4 years

Text

set up || Mayward

Request: 56 and 58 please!!!!! For mayward on the prompt list THANK U FOR THIS I WILL LOVE U FOREVER PLS make it angsty but fluffy i knw u love that

Warning: Kie being cute, some angst on JJ’s end. Not really any warnings.

Author’s Note: This request is so late and I’m so sorry. I could not think of anything to write for this and then I hated what I did write so I took a step back for a while and came up with this. I hope you enjoy! It’s a little angst and a little fluff.

masterlist

Those period shirts with the puffy sleeves and the deep v and one staring at the other like… oh no he/she’s hot. || “Oh, my ankle! I think it must be broken!” *wink* *wink*

“Why are we dressed up?” Pope asks, tugging at the collar on his shirt. The weird frills around his neck are itching and he tries to shove them away from his skin, but he only succeeds in making it worse.

“It’s a costume party,” Kie answers. She reaches forward, fiddles with the fabric so it rests a little more comfortably before she turns back to her mirror and fixes her hair piece. She brushes her fingers down the front of her dress, trying to get out any stray wrinkles before she turns back to him.

“Why is there a costume party in the middle of July?” It’s a valid question. Pope hadn’t even wanted to go to the party in the first place, but Kie had persuaded him, hiding the fact it was a costume party. Pope had shown up with an outfit thrown across her bed, one that matched his friend’s.

“I don’t know, but it’s an excuse to look good,” Kie says like she doesn’t look good all the time. Pope can tell she did pay extra attention to her hair and makeup though. The soft waves fall over her shoulder, lips coated in a layer of sticky gloss. Pope wonders who she’s trying to impress.

“You don’t need a costume party to look good,” Pope answers.

“I may not, but that shirt looks hot as hell on you and I’m sick of watching you and JJ make eyes at each other. He won’t be able to resist you in this,” Kie smiles at him, coy as she passes, patting his shoulder as she makes her way to the door.

Pope’s mouth falls open as he watches her. The other simply shrugs at the reaction, pulling her door open. “How did-?” He doesn’t even know why he’s asking though, because Kie knows everything.

“You’re an idiot and not subtle at all.”

Pope simply shakes his head, following the girl out the door. They two are quick to bypass her parents, sneaking out the front door.

JJ frowns when he watches Pope walk into the party, Kie on his arm. The two of them are in matching costumes and JJ hates how good they look together. He hates how good Pope looks tonight. The shirt should look stupid, puffy sleeves and ruffles galore, but it somehow looks amazing on Pope. It hugs him in all the right places and the weird puffs on his shoulders just make them look bigger.

But then Kie is pressing her hand to his chest and JJ hates the pang of jealousy that flashes in his stomach. JJ takes a sip of his beer to take his mind off the scene in front of him, turning his attention to the touron next to him. She’s the furthest from what he wants right now, but JJ can’t focus on Pope and Kie, doesn’t want to.

The problem is that the pair is making their way over to JJ, looking all too cozy for two people who were just supposed to be friends. Kie is smiling at him now and JJ has to force his lips to turn up, eyes glancing at their linked arms between them.

“JJ!” Kie calls, waves as they walk closer. JJ nods, arms crossed over his chest.

Kie is falling though, tumbling forward and it’s hard to stay mad at someone when they’re falling to the ground. She hits the sand with a loud thud and it’s like the whole party freezes for a moment and suddenly JJ is rushing forward, leaning over to help her up. Pope grabs his shoulder though, prevents him from going to help. JJ looks over his shoulder, eyebrows raised as he watches the other.

“Oh, my ankle! I think it must be broken!” Kie says and JJ turns his attention back to her. He’s about to reach forward, but someone else is there, kneeling in the sand to help Kie. JJ can see the light blush that dusts Kie’s cheeks, the shy smile on her face as the girl reaches forward to help her up, instructing her to go and sit on one of the logs off to the side of the party.

JJ turns his attention back to Pope when Kie shoots him a look. Kie was faking it. Kie was faking it to get this girl. “What the hell did I just witness?” Kie was always giving him crap, but it looked like Kie was taking a note out of his handbook.

“She’s getting her number,” Pope shrugs, watching the two exchange phones. Kie has a wide smile on her lips.

“Why did she come with you then?” JJ turns his attention back to Pope, forces himself not to glance down at the skin the other is revealing. He wants to reach forward, run his fingers over the exposed skin, but he holds himself back.

“She wanted to make her jealous.” Pope pauses, thinks something through before he continues. “She wanted to make you jealous.” JJ must look confused because Pope goes on before he can even ask a question. “She said she’s sick of watching us pine after each other.”

JJ’s eyes widen in shock as he glances back at Kie. The other is watching them, smile on her lips as she nods. She was trying to set them up. Have his feelings been that obvious all along?

“Oh-Um-” JJ clears his throat, plays with his rings as he turns his attention back to Pope. “Well, it worked.”

JJ watches the smile pull up Pope’s lips, the way it lights up his eyes and JJ is surprised when Pope surges forward to connect their lips right in the middle of the party. JJ doesn’t mind though, smiles as he pulls the other close to him, lets his fingers brush over Pope’s cheek, trail along his neck until it lands on his chest.

Yep, he liked this costume.

#mayward #mayward fic #mayward fanfic #mayward fanfiction #jjpope #jjpope fic #jjpope fanfic #jjpope fanfiction #jj #jj maybank #pope #pope heyward #outer banks #obx #e writes

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soobiniebaby · 4 years

Text

Angels & Devils Part X : Secrets of the World

A n g e l s & D e v i l s || Tomorrow x Together Fanfiction

~ p a r t s : main post || prologue || part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5 || part 6 || part 7 || part 8 || part 9 || part 10 || part 11 || part 12 || part 13 || part 14 || part 15 || part 16 || part 17 ~ p a i r i n g : love triangle involving choi soobin and choi yeonjun ~ g e n r e : high school au | some social media au | some fluff & angst | childhood friends | love triangle ~ l a n g u a g e : English ~ w a r n i n g : contains swearing, alcohol, kissing (?) and may contain mature themes (angst, etc.) ~ a / n : This will be my first fanfic (go easy on me pls) and i’m just writing this as I go along, so bear with me juseyo The setting (place/country) of the story is up to the reader’s interpretation ~ s u m m a r y : What should she choose? Han Baby: the new girl with a troubled past MO Academy: her new high school Choi Soobin: student council president, member of the Ecosave club, volunteer at the Humane Treatment of Animals, member of the Honor Society, a vocalist in the Jazzed club, the school’s all around golden boy Choi Yeonjun: leader of the Dance club, star of the Jazzed club, the school’s it boy with a bad rep 5 best friends, 1 new girl, 1 childhood friendship, 1 epic love triangle? What will this school year bring?

The past week has felt surprisingly lonely for Hueningkai since B hadn’t been around. He had enjoyed being at MOA even before B transferred there, but once he got to experience how fun it was to have her at school with him, school just didn’t feel the same.

School had become a bit hectic in the past few days since more students started to show up with chicken pox, so the school started taking drastic measures to minimize the spread of the virus, keeping temperature checks at every entrance and barring students with symptoms from stepping foot on campus. They’ve also encouraged students to wear face masks, minimize physical contact, and always have hand sanitizer or alcohol on hand and to keep check of their immunization records to see which students were susceptible to the disease. Kai himself had been strictly following the newly implemented guidelines, especially since he was a member of the student council, and things were going fine until he woke up with spots on his arms earlier that day.

He immediately locked himself in his bedroom and called up their family doctor to do a quick check up before they deduced that he did indeed have the chicken pox, and that he’d have to keep himself locked up since neither of his sisters have had it before. He was ready to keep himself holed up in his room for the whole week until the guys gave him a great idea.

And now here he was, sitting in B’s living room after she had made sure there were fresh sheets in her extra bedroom and after he had unpacked his clothes and things for the week. He had told her basically everything about the past week except for one tiny detail.

“Hey, Baba, can you sit with me for a minute? There’s something I have to tell you.” he says suddenly, patting the cushion beside him on the couch.

B nervously takes a deep breath before turning to face him. “Yeah, sure.” she says, plastering on a smile and taking a seat. “What is it?”

“Well, now that I’ve told you all about my week, there’s something I feel like I need to ask you.” he says, looking directly at her.

“Okay, ask me anything.” she says, twiddling her thumbs together anxiously. Was it about Yeonjun?

Kai takes a deep breath before taking one of her hands in his and asking, “What would you say if I told you that…”

“That…?”

“That I like someone, and I’d like to ask them out?”

B blinks in surprise. “Oh, uh, I’d say that it’s great? Is there someone that you like? Someone you want to ask out?”

Kai nods. “There is, and I thought I’d ask you first since you know her.”

“I do? Oh, who is it? Is it someone I like?” B asks, surprised.

“Yeah, she’s one of your friends actually.” Kai begins, rubbing the back of his neck as he starts to get shy. “It’s Yuna.”

B claps her hands together and lets out a whoop. “Yes! Oh my god, yes. You 2 are perfect together! Yuna is so sweet and bubbly, and you’re so bright and full of cheer and the 2 of you together will just be like a burst of sunshine.” she says excitedly.

“So you approve? You’d be okay with me maybe asking her out soon?” Kai asks, smiling brightly now.

“Yes, definitely yes!” B says. “Wow, this is great. How did this happen? Have you been talking to her lately? Do you share any classes together?”

Kai nods. “Yeah, we’ve texted a couple of times ever since you dared me to get her number at the party.” he says. “We share a couple of classes together, and I always smile and wave at her when I pass by her at the hall. She’s…cute.” he admits, his cheeks going pink.

“Aw, Ningning, that’s so cute!” B says, resting a hand over her heart. She felt like it was melting from how adorably smitten her bestfriend was. “When are you planning on asking her out?”

“Soon, hopefully. I was thinking of dipping out of Art club to ask her out today, but I woke up with chicken pox, so that’s definitely out of the question. I mean, I could still ask her out through text, but I thought it would be better to do it in person.” he explains.

B nods in agreement. “Yes, definitely better in person. That way, you can see her reaction. Whether she’ll blush bright red or if she’ll be nervous, it would be better than just texting her.” she says.

Kai nods in agreement. Now that B felt more at ease, knowing that Kai had told her he wanted to ask someone out, she decided it would be a good time to ease the whole Yeonjun thing into the conversation. She shot Yeonjun a quick text, letting him know that Kai had arrived at her apartment, before turning to her best friend.

“Now, it’s my turn to ask you something.” she says suddenly, sitting up straight and staring at him intently.

Kai nods curiously. “Alright, sure, what is it?”

“Well, what would you say if I told you that I like someone?” B starts slowly.

“Well, that depends, who do you like?” Kai asks.

“I said if I told you that I like someone.” B says defensively. “So just because I’m asking you about it doesn’t necessarily mean that I actually do like anyone.”

Kai smirks knowingly. “Mhm, okay, whatever you say. So, hypothetically, who would it be?”

B takes a deep breath before saying “Yeonjun?” her voice coming out as barely a whisper.

“I’m sorry, did you say Yeonjun?” Kai says, shocked. “You like Yeonjun? Yeonjun? Like, our Yeonjun? Choi Yeonjun?”

“Shush! And yes, of course that Yeonjun, what other Yeonjun would there be?” B says exasperatedly, whacking Kai’s arm.

And now for the moment of truth. B could feel her heart pounding as there’s a moment of silence between them, Kai processing what he just heard. B was worried about how he’d react. Would he be upset? Would he get angry? Would he disapprove?

Turns out, Kai did none of the above. Instead, he suddenly bursts out laughing, which catches B completely by surprise.

She lets him let it out for a while, his annoyingly endearing dolphin laughter ringing all throughout the apartment, with quick gasps of breaths and “Yeonjun? Our Yeonjun?” in between laughter. She waits for his laughter to die down and for him to catch his breath before continuing.

“Okay, what in the actual heck was that for?” she huffs, folding her arms across her chest, slightly annoyed.

“Oh, Baba. Sweet, clueless, purely innocent, Baba.” he says, patting the top of her head. “Okay, no offense, but Yeonjun is sort of…out of your league.”

“What?” B shrieks, shoving Kai’s hand away. “Okay, no offense, but what do you mean?” she says, mimicking him.

Kai laughs at how childish she was being. “It’s just that he’s Choi Yeonjun! Yes, to us he’s just Yeonjun. But to everyone else he’s the Choi Yeonjun, student council secretary, leader of the Dance club, star of the Jazzed club, the school’s it boy, filthy rich and next in line to take over CEO of YJ Choi Corporation. He’s basically the most eligible bachelor in the town, heck maybe even in the whole country!” he exclaims. “So with a reputation like that, I think you can imagine the kind of girls he would date.”

“Yeah, okay, so he’s intimidatingly out of my league.” B admits, just now realizing how powerful Yeonjun really was. “But it’s not like I’m the ugliest, stinkiest, most uncatchable fish in the sea!” she exclaims. “Besides, what kind of girls would he date?”

“Baba, don’t get me wrong, you’re great and I love you but you’re not exactly Yeonjun’s type.” Kai says comfortingly. “Yes, you’re cute. Heck, you’re pretty to a certain extent. I’d say you’re above average, and when your family background is taken into consideration, you’d certainly be a good catch to the average citizen. But Yeonjun…” he pauses, trying to choose his words carefully. “Well, he’s Choi Yeonjun. He’s the biggest catch in the sea. And for the past couple of years I’ve known him, the kind of girls he goes out with are always the stunningly beautiful and elegant girls around MOA. And as much as I love you, you just aren’t that kind of girl.”

B pouts. “Yes I am! I can be that kind of girl! I can be stunningly beautiful and elegant.” she pouts, although she knew that deep down, her best friend was right. It wasn’t like she had low esteem, she knew she had looks and smarts and wits, but she knew that she wasn’t the kind of girl who could walk around with a bare face looking like a model.

“Baba, I love you, but come on.” Kai says. “I’m just saying, you’re just so not his type.”

“Oh yeah?” B huffs. “If I’m so not his type, then how come he’s asked me out twice already?”

As Kai’s eyes go wide and his jaw drops, B immediately covers her mouth, realizing what she just let slip out.

“What!” Kai practically screams. “He asked you out? Yeonjun asked you out? Yeonjun asked you out twice?” he says, trying to wrap his head around the idea. “And what did you say?”

“He asked me out the first time at the party and then the second time the day after.” B says slowly. “I said no.” B mumbles.

“You said no? To Yeonjun? You rejected Yeonjun? You rejected Yeonjun twice?” he says.

B nods but then she lets out a small sigh. “Actually, I wasn’t able to respond the first time since our 7 minutes were up. And then yes, I said no. But then I said yes, when he asked me out again last Friday.”

“He asked you out again? Wait so he asked you out thrice? And you said yes?” Kai screeches. “And it happened last Friday?!”

B nods slowly. “Yes, yes, and yes?” she says.

“Baba!” he cries. “Why didn’t you tell me? I need to know everything. Now!” he demands.

And so, reluctantly, she does. From the 7 minutes she shared with Yeonjun at the party to how he lead her back to the shed and asked her out again the next day, to how he had winked at her as he performed onstage and how she had made it a point to avoid him since then, to how she had fainted in the hallway and how he had brought her home and taken care of her to how they talked things out until they came to a conclusion. “Then he kissed me, and that’s when I said yes.” she finishes. “And he’s been coming over and sweeping me off my feet almost everyday since then, except on Monday when Ryujin came for a quick visit.” she adds.

Kai makes a face. “Eugh, I do not want to picture you and Yeonjun kissing. I don’t want to picture you and anyone kissing, really, it’s just disgusting.” he says, shuddering. “But, um, wow. So you and Yeonjun, huh? I didn’t see that coming. I guess that’s why you were acting kinda weird during those days after the party? You were avoiding Yeonjun?” he asks, his mind putting the pieces together.

B nods. “Yup. I was avoiding him, which was stupid, but hey here we are now. Dating.” she says, shrugging. “And now that I know I’m not his type, I’m really not sure why he asked me out so persistently.”

“Well, I mean, you aren’t ugly.” Kai says. “Maybe you actually are stunningly beautiful? I dunno. I’m your best friend. To me, you’re just kind of meh.” he says teasingly. “I have to admit though, if you were ever to end up dating one of the guys, I wouldn’t have expected you and Yeonjun to end up together.”

“What do you mean?” she asks suspiciously, her brows pulled together.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise.” he says, laughing as he puts his hands up defensively. “It’s just that I never imagined you and Yeonjun to end up dating or anything. If there was one person in our group I thought you’d ever end up with, I always thought it would’ve been Soobin.”

“Soobin?” B asks, perplexed. “Why?”

“Because I know you.” he starts. “I’ve known you for years, and I know the kind of guys you like and the type of guys you crush on, and honestly, Soobin seemed to fit into the category. Plus, I know Soobin. And knowing him, you seem to be the kind of girl he’d like as well. Also, there’s the fact that you told me you have a crush on him before we left your apartment on the day of the party, remember?”

“You know I made that up just so you’d let it go, right?” B says pointedly. “And what do you mean about Soobin being my type? And me being his type?”

Kai shrugs. “Soobin is nice, sweet, charms the socks out of everyone around him, and he’s an all-around good guy. And you, you just seem to be the type of girls that he used to go for in the past. He likes bright and lively girls, like you. Just thought you 2 had chemistry.” he explains simply. “Guess I was wrong, though. I haven’t seen what you and Yeonjun are like together, but I’m happy for you, Baba. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.” he finishes sincerely.

“Thanks, Ningning.” she says, leaning in to pull him in for a quick hug, though an uneasy was starting to settle in her stomach upon hearing his opinion on her dating life. “Promise me that you won’t tell anyone else about this for now, alright? Not until Yeonjun and I decide what to do next.”

Kai nods. “I’m bad at keeping secrets, but I promise I won’t tell anyone about this.”

“Thanks, Ningning. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Yeonjun and I sort of agreed not to tell anyone at first, we kinda wanted to see how things would go first.” she says, hugging him again.

“It’s alright, Baba. Thanks for telling me, anyway.” Kai says, hugging her back. “I have to admit, this conversation had me so surprised that I forgot about these itchy spots for a moment.”

“Eugh, thank god I’m done with that.” B says, immediately pulling away. “So how are you feeling? Are you feverish? Do you want me to ask my doctor to come by to check up on you everyday?” she asks, examining his spots.

“Nah, I’m good. My doctor said I should be fine as long as I keep my body temperature in check and I avoid scratching myself. He’ll be checking up on me after 5 days to see if I can be medically cleared to go back to school.” Kai says, rubbing his arms. “These pox are a bitch, though. I’m itching all over.”

B slaps his hands away, stopping him from scratching himself. “Looks like it’ll be just you and me for the next 5 days.”

“Oh, really? Won’t Yeonjun be coming over? I thought he’s been visiting everyday.” Kai says.

“He already texted me to tell me that our date for today would be cancelled, and I guess now I know why.” she says, looking at him pointedly. “I mean, he can still come over to visit since he’s immune, but it wouldn’t bother me if he didn’t. I’ve missed you.” B says, ruffling her best friend’s hair. “We haven’t talked like this in what feels like forever. We’ve got the whole weekend to hang around, watch movies, and play around like we used to when we were younger.”

“Oh right, you’ve been cleared to go back to school on Monday.” Kai says, pouting a bit. “Wow, how did you survive being stuck at home all week? Just thinking about it makes me feel like I’ll die out of boredom.” he says, sighing sadly.

“Hey, I didn’t just bum around the whole week. I was on my phone everyday, listening in on lectures and taking notes of my own so I wouldn’t fall too far behind on classes. I suggest you do the same.” B says.

Kai lets out a huff. “Eh, sounds boring, but we’ll see.”

Meanwhile, at MOA, the 4 boys eating lunch together were starting to realize just how different things were now that two of their regular companions were absent.

“Is it just me or do things feel kinda…weird.” Beomgyu asks, as the boys sit in surprising silence, their lunches laid out on the table in front of them, the gentle wind blowing the flowers and vines around the gazebo.

Taehyun nods. “I get what you mean. This whole chicken pox outbreak has made things around here complicated.” he said, completely missing Beomgyu’s point yet making an entirely valid one. “All these sudden health regulations are so difficult, and being a student council member gives no excuses not to follow them since we have to set an example for the rest of the student body.”

He had a point. Thanks to the chicken pox, every student was now required to wear a face mask at all times, except during mealtimes. Not only that, but physical contact was highly discouraged, students were required to send in copies of their immunization records to the school clinic, and every room and entrance on campus now had staff spraying everyone who passed by with alcohol on their hands. The protocols would be in place for a whole week, until a decline in cases would start to show.

“Well yeah, the protocols are pretty sudden and stressful and the whole chicken pox outbreak is making everyone a bit paranoid, but that’s not what I meant.” Beomgyu said, patting Taehyun’s arm. “I mean, you’re definitely right. But I meant that things feel weird without Hyuka and B around.”

Taehyun nods. “Ah yes, I really miss B. It feels a bit lonely to walk by myself to school now, though I used to do it everyday. It’s strange, I never realized how much her absence would affect me.” he says, pondering about how different things felt without her.

Soobin nods, then catches himself. “Don’t you miss Hyuka too, Tyun?” he says, changing the topic. It made him uncomfortable, hearing how Taehyun’s words hit him. It was hard for Soobin to admit it, but B’s absence had bothered him more than he thought it would. And now that Kai was absent as well, Soobin was starting to feel a bit lonelier.

Taehyun shrugs. “I mean we just saw him yesterday, but yes, I have to admit that not having him here feels strange as well.”

“I miss them.” Beomgyu simply says. “Do you think Hyuka took your advice and went over to B’s house?”

“I hope so, it seemed like the most logical option for everyone involved.” Taehyun responds.

“Yeah, he did, she said Kai arrived earlier.” Yeonjun says absentmindedly, scrolling through his phone.

“Oh, she texted you?” Taehyun says curiously. “That’s strange, she hasn’t texted me all week. I mean, she calls me everyday but we don’t really talk because she just listens in on our lectures. Maybe I should send her a message too, to check up on how she’s doing.”

Realizing that he had just let something slip, Yeonjun puts his phone down, subtly kicking Beomgyu under the table, hoping he’d say something to help him out.

“Oh yeah you definitely should! I’ve been texting her too.” Beomgyu says suddenly, jerking in his seat, trying to come up with anything to deflect the conversation from Yeonjun’s slip up. “She, uh, she says she misses us and that she can’t wait to go back to school.” he says sheepishly, lying through his teeth.

“Tell her we miss her too.” Soobin says, taking a bite out of his sandwich.

“You should tell her yourself. I mean, I know we all miss her, but I think it would be better if she hears it from each of us.” Beomgyu says, further leading the conversation.

The boys sit in silence once again as they focus on consuming their food, picking up their phones as well.

Soobin and Taehyun take Beomgyu’s advice and shoot B some messages. Beomgyu texts her as well, to make up for lying to the guys about it.

As their lunch break comes to an end, Yeonjun speaks up. “We should probably get going, it’s our first club day with these implemented health protocols, I’m sure the administrators will want all club officers to assist in making sure that people follow the guidelines and restrictions.”

The boys all agree and pack up their bags, ready to head to their respective clubs.

Yeonjun turns to Beomgyu and says “Hey Gyu, I think I left something in my car, wanna walk with me?”

Beomgyu nods. “Sure thing YJ, lead the way.” And the 2 boys wander off, leaving Taehyun and Soobin to walk back to the building together.

“Thanks for saving my ass back there, I thought Taehyun would’ve caught on. He’s pretty intuitive.” Yeonjun says, bumping his fist against Beomgyu’s.

“No problem. I’m guessing you were texting her right at that moment? Try to be more careful. Or better yet, just tell the other guys about it already.” Beomgyu responds.

Yeonjun shakes his head. “I’m not sure if Baby and I are ready to take this thing public yet. We’ve only gone on a few dates, and we haven’t even talked about where this might lead to. Besides, things between us are so good right now, and letting other people know about it might change that.” he reasons out. “She and I will have to talk about things first, so until then, promise me that you won’t tell anyone about it?”

Beomgyu sighs. “Fine, but as cute as it is to see you so happy and blushy, the 2 of you better sort this out soon. I don’t like having to keep secrets.” he says, shuddering slightly. “But really though, how are things between you 2? Do you see it going anywhere?”

Yeonjun smiles to himself. “I really like her, Gyu. I really really like her.”

“So what are you gonna do you about it?” Beomgyu asks curiously. “Where do you see things going between you?”

“I’m gonna ask her to be mine.” Yeonjun asks. “Not yet, but soon. I think this could be the start of something great. I feel like I’m falling more and more for her each day, and I don’t see that stopping anytime soon.”

Yeonjun stops walking for a moment, looking at Beomgyu as if he had just realized something. “I think I might love her, Gyu.”

Beomgyu stops as well, staring at the blue haired boy. “Are you sure? Remember what happened the last time you fell in love?” he asks, reminding Yeonjun of the only real relationship he’s ever had, and how bad things ended and how heartbroken he was at the end of it all, and how he’s struggled to find anyone he’d want to develop a real connection with since then.

Once upon a time, Yeonjun had fallen in love. Her name was Rose, and she was a student from another school within the district. She had fiery red hair and an even more fiery personality, which was probably what drew him to her in the first place. Being with her was exciting, and Yeonjun liked the feeling of being kept on his toes, not knowing what to expect next. He fell for her hard, without stopping to think that maybe she wasn’t someone worth loving. He liked that she was confident and knew what she wanted out of life, he liked that she was experienced and knew just what to do to make him tick. She played him like a fiddle, and he happily obliged, showering her with affection and spoiling her with everything she wanted. It was only when he found out that she was cheating on him did he realize that she was just using him. In the end, he was left drained, exhausted, and closed off to the idea of falling so recklessly in love again. 3 years later and he still struggled to make any emotional connections with people of the opposite gender.

Yeonjun shakes his head. “Fuck that, dude. This is different. She’s different.” he says, with B on his mind.

B and her long dark hair, her warm pink skin, the soft freckles splattered across her cheeks, her small fragile hands, the gentle dip at the curve of her waist. B and the way her laugh rang through his mind, how the gentlest of her touches could leave him feeling breathless, how her smile was permanently etched into his memory, and how the way she looked at him made him wish he was something worth looking at. How she made him want to be more.

“I know she is. I mean, one, I actually really like her. Whereas Rose was a dirty lying cheat, B is pretty damn cool.” Beomgyu says. “And two, she’s a genuinely good person who I’m sure likes you for more than just your dad’s money.”

Yeonjun nods. “So you see my point.”

Beomgyu nods back, then smiles. “Damn, maybe this should be the headline for this month’s issue of the school paper! Choi Yeonjun: in love.”

“Oh shut up. If you ever print anything about me, I’m ready to sue, Mr. Editor and Chief.” Yeonjun says, playfully shoving Beomgyu’s arm.

Beomgyu laughs, wrapping an arm around his friend’s shoulders as they continue to walk across the campus. “Don’t worry, I’ve got better things to publish than your love life.”

“Thanks for keeping this a secret, BG.” Yeonjun says.

Beomgyu sighs in response. “No problem, but I gotta admit that I don’t like keeping secrets from the rest of the guys. Keeping things from each other might complicate things.”

Yeonjun shrugs. “Complicate what things? I don’t see how things could possibly go wrong.” he says nonchalantly.

meanwhile

“It’s weird how different things feel without B around, huh?” Taehyun says casually as he and Soobin make their way across the campus. “I honestly didn’t think I’d miss her this much. It’s strange, don’t you think? Do you miss her too? Or is it just me?”

Soobin shakes his head. “Nah, me? Why would I miss her? She’s just a friend. Things don’t feel weird at all.”

Which were all lies. For Soobin, everything without B felt weird. He never realized how much of an impact she had left on him until he started to wake up the past few days knowing that he wouldn’t be seeing her at school and then suddenly his day would feel a little less chipper and a little more dull. He never noticed how important she had become to him until he no longer had to save a seat next to him at the gazebo during lunch in the hopes that she would sit next to him. He never knew how much he enjoyed her presence until he walked into their Creative Writing class and his eyes didn’t automatically search for hers in the crowd because he knew he wouldn’t find them.

It was just now hitting him how much he actually missed her.

He missed waking up in the morning knowing that he’d get to her see her and starting his day off excited, whistling to himself as he got out of bed. He missed walking to the gazebo for lunch and thinking about which of his packed snacks he could share with her, saving the seat next to him in the hopes that she’d choose to sit beside him. He missed looking forward to the last period for the day and walking into the classroom with his eyes meeting hers, which would automatically be followed by the big smile and wave she’d give whenever she saw him walk in, and how she’d pat the chair beside her so he could sit next to her.

Which all confused him. He had been studying at MOA for the past 4 years, and yet he had never felt this sense of longing just because of one person’s absence. What’s worse is he didn’t realize how much he’d miss her until she was gone.

Was it possible that he had feelings for her?

“Why do you even miss her so much? Do you like her or something?” Soobin says teasingly, trying to deflect his own thoughts.

Taehyun raises a brow. “I like her, but not in the way you mean.” he responds factually. “I just miss having her around. Just because you miss someone, it doesn’t necessarily mean that you have feelings for them, you know.”

There’s a beat of silence before Soobin carefully asks. “So how would you know that you have feelings for someone then? Doesn’t the feeling of wishing they were around and stuff mean that you like them?” he asks, trying to untangle his thoughts and make sense of his feelings.

Taehyun thinks about it for a moment. “It could? Wishing that someone were with you when they’re not around could mean that you have feelings for them.”

“So missing someone like that means that you like them?” Soobin asks.

“Maybe. Personally, I think it’s more than that though. It’s the way they make you feel. For example, when I’m with the person I like, I feel incomparable happiness, like I wouldn’t trade their existence for anything else in the world. Just the thought of seeing them gets me excited to start my day. I look for them everywhere I go, and I can spot them from a mile away, as if my eyes can automatically zero in on that one person. Even when I don’t see them, everything around me seems to remind me of them. I feel comfortable, like I can be myself around them.” Taehyun says thoughtfully.

“Oh, Tyun, I didn’t know that you like someone.” Soobin says, surprised. “It sounds like you love her a lot. You were able to express your feelings so well.”

Taehyun smiles wistfully. “Yeah, I guess I really do. This person’s been on my mind for quite a while now, and I’ve learned to come to terms with how they make me feel. That’s how I’m able to express it so well, I’ve been dealing with these feelings for more than a year now.”

Soobin’s jaw drops. “You’ve been in love for over a year? Have you told this person about how you feel?”

The other boy simply shakes his head. “No, I can’t, cause I know they’ll never feel the same way about me. I’d rather do the logical thing and keep my feelings to myself instead.”

“You always choose you head over your heart, Tyun.” Soobin says. “Why not try listening to your heart for once? Have you ever confessed your feelings for anyone before? We’ve been friends for a while now, but honestly I feel like I don’t know much about your love life. It seems like one of the last things that would be on your mind.”

“Ah, Soobin. I don’t like expressing these feelings cause I know they won’t amount to anything. Why are you asking me these things anyway? Are you in love with anyone?” Taehyun says dismissively, flipping the conversation over.

“You’re so pessimistic.” Soobin says sourly.

Taehyun shrugs. “You say pessimistic, I say realistic. Now tell me, do you have feelings for anyone?” he says pointedly. “You seem to be really interested in the topic.”

“I’m not really sure. I mean, there’s this girl, and I think she’s great and all, but I don’t know if these feelings mean anything. You know I had a girlfriend before, right? Remember last year, when Lia and I were a thing?”

“Oh yeah, you and Lia were cute together. See, since you’ve been in a relationship before, you should know what it feels like to like someone.” Taehyun says.

Soobin nods. “Yes, but the problem is Lia confessed to me first. When she confessed, it’s not like I had any strong feelings for her or anything, I just thought that she was pretty and nice to talk to, so I told her I liked her back and I asked her out. But now, I’m feeling these things, and it just feels so different from what I felt when Lia and I were together.”

“I guess you didn’t really love Lia, then?” Taehyun says, and Soobin shrugs in response.

“I definitely had feelings for her, but I broke up with her after a while cause I just didn’t see our relationship going anywhere.” Soobin admits.

“Look, I’m sure you liked her, but it’s different to love someone.” Taehyun says. “Because when you love someone, you just know it.”

“But how? How do you know?” Soobin asks confused, desperate to untangle his feelings.

“You just do. It might hit you at one certain moment, when you see this person and your heart starts to beat twice the normal rate and you think to yourself ‘oh wow, I love this person.’ Or you could just wake up one day feeling more, and then it would hit you just like that.” Taehyun says. “It could hit you out of nowhere like a truck, or it could come to you slowly and then all at once. But however it goes, one day you’ll just know.”

“One day, I guess.” Soobin says. He couldn’t imagine waking up one day and feeling completely different about someone, or looking at someone and suddenly being hit with the realization that he was in love with them. Or her. Or B, to be exact.

His cheeks went pink just thinking of it. “Well, I don’t think I’m in love with her just yet. Thanks for the talk, though. It was very interesting, and you made a lot of good points.” he says as they approach the stairs leading up to their club rooms.

Taehyun nods and claps the older boy on the back. “No problem, Soobin. Whoever she is, I’m sure you’ll figure things out soon. And if you ever do wake up one day and realize you’re in love, she’d be stupid not to love you back.”

Soobin smiles at him warmly. “Thanks, Tyun. I hope I figure it out soon. Oh, one last thing.” he says, suddenly stopping in his tracks.

“Yes? What is it?” Taehyun asks.

“Do you mind if we keep this conversation between the 2 of us? I’m just…” Soobin pauses, fumbling with his words. “I’d rather no else knew about this for now.”

Taehyun laughs kindly. “Don’t worry, I promise it will be like we never had this conversation. I’d also prefer it if you don’t tell anyone else about my crush, I’m pretty sure you’re the first person I’ve told about it.”

Soobin nods. “Of course! You can count on me, my lips are sealed.” he says, making a zipping motion across his mouth, which causes Taehyun to laugh. “See you later, Tyun.”

Taehyun waves and watches as Soobin disappears into the Ecosave club room, greeting the other officers of the club and reminding them about the implementation of health protocols.

Taehyun shakes his head before turning away and continuing down the hall to his own club room, preparing himself as president of the Debate Club to brief his officers and members about the health protocols. He found it adorable that his friend whom had never really been in love before was so obliviously in love now without even knowing it. He knew that Soobin was a smart guy, but he didn’t know that he could be so clueless about his own feelings. Taehyun always thought that his friend would be a little more emotionally self-aware, but he was wrong. He could tell that Soobin’s thoughts were all over the place, and he hoped that their little talk would at least help him figure out his own feelings.

He almost felt bad for Soobin, but he was amused and was looking forward to seeing how Soobin’s little crush would play out. Anyone would be lucky to date a guy like Soobin. Whoever this girl was, he could tell that Soobin had it bad. He just hoped that it was someone who could love him back.

•°•

“Baba?”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

B shifts on the couch, turning over so she could come face to face with Kai. “Alright, what is it this time? You want advice on how to ask Yuna out or something?”

“No, it’s nothing like that.” he says, his cheeks suddenly turning pink. “I wanted to ask you something about Yeonjun.”

“Oh, what about Yeonjun?” she asks, curious.

“Well, I was just wondering, why Yeonjun?” Kai asks thoughtfully. “I honestly never pegged him as your type of guy. Your past crushes have always been the academically smart, sweet, caring types and Yeonjun’s more on the work hard play harder, cool, chill, borderline fuckboy types? So what made you like him?”

“Ah, he may not be the smartest or the most academically focused guy, but he’s definitely sweet and caring. And while many people may see him as cool and distant and maybe even a bit of a flirt, but there’s so much more to him than that.” B starts carefully. “He’s just so…amazing. When I first met him, I honestly never thought we’d end up where we are now. It’s like he’s a completely different person, like there’s a completely different side to him that I’ve been privileged enough to see.”

“Sounds like someone’s in love.” Kai sings teasingly, trying to hide his disdain at her answer. Maybe he was being overprotective, but he only wanted to make sure that his best friend wouldn’t get hurt. Judging by her answer, it sounded like she was smitten simply because of the things Yeonjun did to sweep her off her feet. She was too focused on one side of Yeonjun that she was blinded to all his other sides, which didn’t sound good to Kai. “But really, do you think you might be?”

“In love?” she clarifies. She stops for a moment to think about, meanwhile the same 3 words continuously run through his mind: please say no, please say no, please say—

“I don’t know. I don’t think so?” B says, a bright smile on her face. “I mean, it’s only been a week since we started going out, so it’s too early to tell, right?”

Kai laughs along. “Right, it does sound a bit unrealistic to fall in love with someone over a week.”

“True, but at the same time, I feel like my life has changed so much in the past week, and it’s all because of him. It was like a montage out of a romance movie or something, you know?” she says with stars in her eyes, and it was at that moment when Kai realized that he couldn’t change his best friend’s mind, even if he tried. She was falling hard.

“That sounds great, Baba!” he smiles, not knowing what else he could say. “I’m happy for you.” And it wasn’t a lie, he really was happy that she seemed happy. He was just worried that she was rushing into it all. He knew her, he knew how careful she was and how she usually thought things over at least 10 times before making a decision, but the girl he was talking to now, who had stars in her eyes and a lovesick smile felt almost alien to him.

He desperately wanted to tell her to be careful and to keep her guard up, but he didn’t want to ruin her happiness. Instead, he simply said “It’s nice to see you happy like this. I haven’t seen you crush so hard on a guy since we were in the 3rd grade and you were going absolutely feral for that one guy in our math class.”

B laughs at the memory. “Oh god, Park Jisung, I remember him! He was the top student in our batch, I think that’s why I liked him so much. I was crushing hard.”

“Not as hard as you’re crushing on Yeonjun now, I’m guessing?” Kai asks. He wanted to know just how far his best friend had already fallen.

B shakes his head. “I’m falling pretty hard, Ningning. I’ve never felt like this before.”

And there it was. The answer he’d been dreading.

He plasters on a smile. “Not too hard, I hope.” he says weakly.

“Psh, yeah, don’t worry about me Ningning. I’ve got this all under control.” she says, laughing it off.

He laughs too. “Of course. I’m not worried. Not at all.” he says. And those were all lies.

Because he knew that no matter what she said, no matter how much he liked Yeonjun and no matter how happy she looked now, he’d always worry about his best friend.

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