#the way he immediately drops the club because he knows what happened i adore him

[fannyyann]

Matthew vs the exploding golf ball

[princessbrunette]

how do you think would rafe react when crybaby!reader gets upset when he unintentionally hurts her feelings and she’s serious upset and not adorable upset? yk what i mean? like suddenly he’s realizing she’s not being dramatic but really hurt🎀

୧ ‧₊˚🧸ྀི ৎ୭

i feel as though season one rafe would do this the most often. season 2 rafe is very intentional with his words because he’s learnt to be more careful not to get himself in trouble, esp towards the end of season 2 when he’s spending a lot of time with limbrey and her brother and you can see him acting a lot more grownup. season 3 rafe is actually fairly gentle, especially around women — he’s figured out how to conduct himself and is very set on changing his ways which is why he’s very respectful towards sofia and also very mindful of kiaras space when they were trapped at singhs together — if she flinched when he’d come too close he’d immediately stop approaching or he’d slow his movements and put his hands up to show it was okay. season one rafe however, doesn’t give a fuck how anyone feels really.

most importantly, he doesn’t know how to have a girlfriend yet. i was speaking about this last night in dms with indy — and it seems very clear that he doesn’t get how to handle you yet. he doesn’t seem like he’d understand that he needs to take you on dates still once you’re in a relationship or ask you to be his valentine etc, not seeing the point of it. so i can definitely see him messing up and hurting your feelings really bad.

he’s very much a boy, and likes to do boy shit with his friends. stand around and drink beer and talk and watch the game. he doesn’t mind you being there, but if he’s wrapped up in conversation with his friends he kinda doesn’t care so much if you’re there because he’s happy doing his thing. say you’re at the country club and this is happening, your boyfriend laughing and being obnoxious with his pals. you’d approach and he’d give you a little side hug, pulling you to his side but he’d continue talking to his friends and not so much you.

“what are you guys doing?” you ask quietly to just him and he glances your way.

“uh, just hanging out? you didn’t find any of your little friends to talk to?” his hand drops to your lower back and you blink up at him obviously.

“yeah they’re here just… wanted to be with you?” you furrow your eyebrows and he briefly laughs at something kelce said, only offering you half of his attention before looking at you again.

“well we’re just doing guy stuff, a’ight? go hang with them. don’t need to hover around me, i’ll just come get you when we’re leavin’.” its an offhand comment, but your face immediately falls. ‘hovering around him’? when the two of you were alone he often demanded all of your attention, but now with his friends here it was like he didn’t care at all. to add salt to the burn, he gives your ass a little pat and let’s go of you. “go on.” he hurries you along.

you feel that hot feeling in your chest and you can feel yourself getting upset. “i think im going to go home.” you’re polite as you can be but your voice shakes and it catches his attention, following you when you take a few steps, still half smiling.

“wh— are you serious? why?”

you avoid his eye like you don’t even know him, lifting a shoulder and brushing him off. “just— just want to.” he watches you wipe your tears away as you leave the club, and he sighs in confusion, taking a sip of his beer.

topper was actually the one to teach him about how to handle an emotional girlfriend. he sighed out a “i don’t understand this girl, man.” when you were out of sight and after some convincing— rafe learned the valuable lesson of grovelling. he shows up at your door an hour later, pink in the face from being in the sun and a little warm and sweaty.

“uh, can i come in?”

he lets you cry into his chest as he squints at the wall in confusion trying to understand you. he did love you, believe it or not — he just didn’t have a way with words.

“look okay, you know when i say shit i don’t mean it, alright? i’m a guy it’s — it’s just what we do. i didn’t mean for you to take it that way.” he cups your face, a strand of his pushed back hair fallen onto his forehead.

“you hurt my feelings.” you mewl, and his heart does infact melt a little, blinking rapidly as he sighs in frustration with himself.

“whats gonna make this better? huh? you— you wanna punch me or something?” he asks desperately which actually gets a giggle from you. “well what then?”

“just want you to like me.” you sigh sadly and he stares at you dumbly.

“i do. so now what?”

“prove it.” you huff and he shakes his head a little, dumbfounded.

“prove i— okay.” he grabs your face, pulling you in for a kiss.

୧ ‧₊˚🧸ྀི ৎ୭

[beanmachine69]

can you write a fake dating situation with lance stroll??

Now and Later | Lance Stroll

Fuck, not this again. 

This was one of the reasons you avoided hanging out with this particular group of friends back at home. Sure, they were great fun and all, but they all still had your stupid ex on instagram and were quite fond of posting stories- location tag and all included. They weren’t super close to you, but since you landed that fancy job in the media management department for Aston Martin, they just loved to pretend like they gave a damn about you or your life. Clubbing with them was fun though, and you needed a distraction from the stress your home-life had sprung at you. God, how you missed your old friend group, you were happy for them, but you really missed hanging out with them; they were fun, sweet, supportive, and were fully aware of how obnoxious your ex-boyfriend was. 

You had moved away from the dance floor when you saw him, hiding your face near the bar. He saw your group and was slowly advancing towards them, so as to not raise any alarms. You reached the bar and ordered another drink, if you were going to talk to that bastard, you were going to do it drunk. You downed the first drink faster than you expected and were ordering the second when you felt someones’ hand on your shoulder as they sat next to you on the bar. 

Welp, this was happening. 

You turned, adorning the most annoyed expression that you could, only to see your much loved (by you) colleague. His smile dropped when he saw your expression, confusion washing over his face. 

“Uh, hey is this a bad time?” He asked hesitantly. 

“Oh my God Lance, I’m so sorry, I thought you were someone else.” You apologized, expression dropping immediately as your face turned bright red.  

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, just some old problems that won’t fucking leave me alone.” You mumbled into your glass as you brought it to your face.

Lance laughed, and there began another problem which you’d been desperately trying to avoid. He looked so ridiculously adorable when he smiled, and even more so when he laughed. The way his usually intense eyes would soften and crinkle on the sides, and how cute he sounded when he laughed. God, having a crush on Lance was terrifying, not just because of the power dynamic, but also because you could never be sure if he actually reciprocated anything. You had caught him staring a few times before, but sometimes you’d also seen him completely zone out and stare at things, and so, for the sake of your own sanity, you brushed it off as that. 

“What type of problems are we talking about here?” He laughed, politely gesturing for the bartender to bring two of what you were having. 

“Oh y’know, I don’t wanna bore you.” You replied, almost embarrassed to be talking to him about this. 

He seemed to not have heard you, so he leaned in, allowing you to get a pretty good smell of his cologne. Sure, you’d been in accidental close proximity before, but this was so much more different. You both were out of the green Aston-Martin apparel you were accustomed to seeing each other in, and you were certain that he lingered a moment too long after you had repeated what you said. 

“Oh, you’re not boring me at all, I’d love to know more about you, we barely get to talk at work.” He replied, bringing his stool closer to yours, “Plus, I’d love to see what's got you drinking like this.” 

He had to have been drunk, or at least a little tipsy. You two had joked around and had your laughs before, but this just felt so different, he suddenly seemed so much more comfortable and confident. Maybe the lack of cameras and the general stress of the job was doing its magic or maybe it was your low-cut top that had him acting differently. Either way, you weren’t complaining. You liked it when Lance would talk to you, even more so when it would be a one-on-one conversation between you two. It always felt natural almost, like you two were great friends in the past or something. 

“Oh Lance, y’know how it is,” You tried stalling, there was no way you were going to dish about your ex with him, nope it was far too embarrassing, “This and that..”

“This and what? Come on, tell me already.” He laughed, determined to find out why you looked so stressed at a bar and why you had managed to finish your drink this fast again.

“I-” You were interrupted when you spotted your friend pointing at the bar, directing your ex towards you. Panic set in, and you knew you didn’t want to have this conversation, especially in front of someone who was technically your boss. 

Luckily for you, Lance was quick to read your eyes, following their direction and understanding that the man slowly approaching you two was definitely coming there with a purpose; considering the look in your eyes, he also understood that you weren’t particularly excited to be at the receiving end of this supposed purpose. He was slightly tipsy, and you looked really pretty tonight, so he decided to take a barely calculated decision. He knew he had to act fast, considering the man was barely a few feet away, Lance grabbed your face, turning it in his direction. Your eyes widened at the unexpected physical contact, barely managing to process it before he pulled you in for a kiss. His lips felt soft in contrast to how heated the kiss was, his lips passionately moving against yours as one of his hands slipped down to your waist, hooking his finger in the loop of your jeans and pulling you onto his lap. You were surprised, to say the least, but you reciprocated it nonetheless, leaning onto him as you straddled his lap, surprised at the stability of the stool you were seated on. And for a moment, when you two pulled away for air- and you locked your eyes into his- you forgot about the reason for the kiss, melting as his eyes looked in yours before he pulled your face in again, thumb stroking your cheek as he deepened the kiss. 

If it wasn’t for your ex clearing his throat, you two would have probably gone at it for longer, with neither one of you having any objections at all. You turned your face at the man who stood half a foot away from you two, staring angrily at you. You readjusted yourself in his lap, leaning into the facade, you brought a thumb near your lips, cleaning the slight smudge of your lipgloss.

“Hey.” He said, glaring at Lance. 

“Hi.” Lance smiled, both hands now on your waist. 

You could cut the tension with a knife if you wanted to, your ex-boyfriend had no right to be this annoyed, especially not at Lance. His anger was unjustified, and almost annoying, who was he to get mad if you were dating someone? It's not like he knew it was fake. 

“Who’s this babe?” Lance asked, looking at you with the sweetest eyes imaginable, making you melt momentarily. 

“I’m her ex-boyfriend.” He replied, inching closer to the two of you.

“Do you have somethinggg to say?” Lance asked, turning to him.

He opened his mouth for a minute, surprised at how direct the question was. This was definitely not what he was expecting.

“No?” Lance asked, barely allowing him to answer, “Alright, cool.” 

He turned back to kiss you, his hand finding its way back to your cheek that was now currently bright red. Sure, you thought Lance was pretending, but to him, he just saw this as an opportunity to act out on something he’d been feeling for a while now. He’d thought you were cute the moment he saw you, but it wasn't until he talked to you separately did he realize the fact that he liked you. He was way more than excited when he saw you walk into the club with your sexy little top on, and he was more than glad when you came towards the bar. Sure, he’d have wanted to ask you out in better circumstances, but he was definitely not going to complain about his current situation with you on top of him, slightly grinding on him as you two were making out infront of your bloke of an ex. 

You were the one to pull away, coming to your senses when you thought the room was clear to drop the pretense. You were flushed, your breath uneven as you fixed your top that hiked up slightly because of Lances’ exploring hands. 

“Uh,” You weren’t sure what to say, “Lance, I-” 

“I’m sorry for not asking, I just thought it’d be better than talking to that loser.” Lance chuckled. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or if it was how cute you looked when you were flushed, but he really did get an urge to drop all possible formalities. If you could have given that guy a chance, then maybe Lances’ odds weren’t so bad at the moment. Plus, at one point, he was certain neither of you were pretending. 

“No no, I didn’t mind that at all.” You replied, dipping your head down a little to hide the blush that was painting your face.

“Good girl.” Lance whispered, face close to your ear. 

You didn’t think you could blush any harder than you were at that moment. You felt like you were going to explode, everything had happened so fast, and you ran through so many emotions, you were practically feeling lightheaded. Chugging all those drinks didn’t help either, because now you were certain that you had passed out and this was all a dream. Snapping yourself back to reality, you became aware of the fact that you were sitting on Lance Strolls’ lap in a busy bar. You hopped off him, fixing your hair and lip gloss as you stood next to him, looking around to see if anyone had witnessed all that happened. Luckily your friends were too busy dancing and your ex hadn’t seemed to recognise Lance, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Uh, thanks for saving my ass right now,” You mumbled, barely able to look at him, “I really didn’t want to talk to that guy.”

“Hey,” Lance stood up, towering over you as his arms got a hold of your sides, prompting you to look up at him, “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, just uh, a little surprised, that’s all.” 

“Surprised in a good way or a bad way?” He asked, eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

“A good way.” You smiled, entranced by his eyes enough to not care about how hard you were blushing.

“Good, because I was hoping I could make this pretense a reality, and uh take you out for dinner tomorrow?” He asked, a small spark of hope in his eyes.

“Uh, yeah that sounds great.” You replied, almost needing to pinch yourself to accept the reality of the situation. 

“Great, I’ll pick you up at 8.” He smirked, “Why don’t you go tell your friends that you’re going home and I’ll drop you home right now.” 

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A/N: Hi! sorry I got carried away, thank you so much for the cute request anon! I loved writing this, hope you liked it! <3

Also, I don't know if this was cliche? like I thought of a plus one to a friends wedding type of fic, but that was also kinda cliche? idk, I hope I didn't disappoint haha

As usual, my ask box is open for requests and criticism, lmk how you like it!!

[alastor-simp]

How Do You Cheer Up/Apologize To Them After Making Them Upset- Lilia Vanrouge

‼️‼️‼️‼️This is from my TWST zodiac book on wattpad, I meant to just write a short sentence for some characters but I ended up doing a whole oneshot XD. Enjoy and please excuse my bad writing‼️‼️‼️‼️

You had never seen Lilia upset before. His adorable smile was placed with a frown and his eyes were stern when he looked at you. You immediately realized you had stepped out of line and tried to say sorry, but he didn't want to hear it and walked away from you. The next day at NRC, you tried to look for him in the classrooms and club room, but you couldn't find him. Sighing, you began to walk outside of the club room before bumping into someone, "ah I'm sorry." You then looked up to realize you had bumped into Malleus-sama, as he looked at you with a soft smile on his face, "It is alright Child of Man, I apologize for bumping into you as well. What seems to be troubling you? You look slightly gloomy." Malleus put his hand on your shoulder and listened to you telling him everything about what had happened yesterday, and making Lilia upset, "I don't know what to do Tsunotarou. Can you help me please?" Malleus smiled and said he would assist you and then he asked you whenever you were sad, what did Lilia do to you. You stared at Malleus, confused and then told him whenever you were sad, Lilia would always pop up out of nowhere, hanging upside down with a big smile on his face, and it never failed to make you laugh. You then realized what Malleus was getting at, and you doubt you could pull that off, but you were willing to do anything to cheer Lilia-sempai up and maybe he would forgive you. Malleus told you there was a tree near the Diasomnia dorm, where Lilia would go to later in to afternoon after classes, and that you could do it there.

You thanked Malleus and began to head over to the dorm and once you go there you spotted the tree that Tsunotarou had mentioned, but you didn't see Lilia, so you put your plan into action and climb the tree depsite nearly falling a few times, but you managed to reach one of the thick branches and sit on it, waiting for Lilia to arrive. After about a few minutes you heard footsteps, and saw Lilia slowly making his way towards the tree, his eyes were down looking sad, so he didn't notice you up on the tree. He leans against the tree and then slides down to sit on the grass, and heaves a big sigh. You put your plan into action and slowly move further out on the branch, so when you drop down your face will be up close to Lilias. You make sure your legs are locked on and then you fall back, and pretty soon your upside down, hair hanging behind you and a big smile on your face. "Why so sad, Lilia?", you said, while Lilia jumps in shock and sees you hanging upside down from the branch and your face right in front of his. "W-what are you doing, and why are you hanging from the tree?!" You blushed and looked away saying that whenever you were sad or upset, he would always pop up and make you feel better, so you decided to do the same thing to him to make him feel better because of yesterday. Lilia just stared at you and then he just burst into a fit of laughter in front of your face, his adorable smile appearing on his face again. While he was having his laughing fit, you started to apologize for yesterday, but Lilia shushed you by putting a finger to your lip, "Not another word, I already accept your apology, you adorable human." He then removed his finger from your lips and then leaned forward to kiss your lips with you still dangling from the tree branch

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Oooooh that one was a lot. Very sweet though! I honestly love the AUs where Shigaraki owns V.

I don't doubt that Shigaraki pays attention to all of his workers, but Dabi, I don't think he memorized your preferences for nothing.

I do love the collar as part of the uniform. Something to show that they're under Shigaraki's protection. At the same time, I do not want to know how often Shigaraki had to stop himself from staring at Dabi, wearing his collar, his colours, trusting Shigaraki to (indirectly) keep him safe.

God I hate Muscular. From what I can tell, one of the onlookers noticed Dabi safewording and since Muscular didn't react, they got security involved, which is how the information reached Shigaraki.

I honestly adore the idea that Shigaraki took over La Venus, made it reputable, but absolutely is still a criminal and employs criminals if they prove to be trustworthy and not cause trouble.

Oh, Dabi, no. Poor baby is so convinced he did something wrong, that he will be thrown out. The abandonment issues are hitting hard here. He is convinced that he did something wrong.

Shigaraki is so sweet on Dabi. Ahhh, they're so cute. On that note, Dabi is right. Shigaraki didn't have to stay the entire night and also sleep with Dabi. He didn't have to jump in through the window. But he did, because he will make sure people follow his rules or so help them God. Also, he is an absolute simp. That too.

You don't question what happens to the people who mistreat staff at La Venus, you just accept that everyone who behaves is safe there <3

Like, Compress definitely knows what goes on in the basement, and Twice does too, obviously.

I think Shigaraki watched Dabi absolutely burn Muscular's face off and fell in love all over again.

Dabi makes rational choices! Well, kind of. Taking a week off to think was a rational choice at least. On that note, I think while Shigaraki would have accepted if Dabi didn't come back and kept his distance, it would have absolutely destroyed him. Dabi would be safe, but at the same time, he would habe lost him. He would have lost him with no way of ensuring he stays that way too. Good that that isn't the timeline they live in!

Love the fact that Dabi absolutely recognizes that Shigaraki would destroy the world for him and is just immediately ready to help him, just like the others are, lol.

They're together now! Kind of! I bet they'll talk about it and then Dabi will get his own custom collar that he can wear while he isn't working ;)

Very very good.

This one was definitely a lot, but Shigaraki happily gave Dabi everything he needed to feel better 💕 He was 100% simping for Dabi since he showed up at the club and by the end of the story they are essentially married because Shig is never going to let Dabi go (unless he's asked, but he's gonna do his damn best to never reach that point). You nailed the sequence of events and Dabi definitely should have done more rational thinking in this story (not sleeping with someone immediately after such a severe drop) and being down for murder .25 seconds after it was offered to him as an option, but babyboy is a little unhinged too, and we (and Shiggy), love him for that

Thank you so much for commenting!

[omegaling]

Hellcheer Headcanons: Where Everyone Lives and No One is Sad

Chrissy really, really does not want to go to prom and be put on the pedestal of Hawkins High Prom Queen like she knows she will be, but her mother’s already bought (and altered) her dress, and Jason has the limo lined up, so she’s trapped into going.

Jason is absolutely the kind of ignoramus who would propose to Chrissy at prom in front of their entire graduating class. Chrissy is too stunned to speak for a whole moment, then responds with a quiet “I have to think” before walking off the stage and out of the gym.

The Hellfire Club is having a session during prom, mostly as a way to help Eddie get his mind off Chrissy. They are nearing the end of their latest campaign, where their party has at last saved the princess who was put under an enchanted sleep by a wicked sorcerer-king who wanted to keep her for himself instead of allowing her to marry her true love, a woodsman who lived in the dark forest. Just as the princess wakes up, Chrissy walks through the front door, still in her prom dress and makeup streaking down her face. Eddie’s back is to her when she walks in, but all the others see her and fall into stunned silence. When Eddie finally realizes they’re reacting to something other than the campaign, he turns around to see Chrissy, and after that nothing else matters except for each other.

They keep their relationship quiet until Jason leaves for college and they don’t have to worry about him or his friends harassing Eddie for “stealing his girl.”

Chrissy’s mom kicks her out of the house for her refusal to go to college with Jason and turning down her cheerleading scholarship. It was only meant to be a scare tactic, but Chrissy never returns. She still keeps in contact with her brother regularly and her father on occasions, but all ties with her mother are gradually broken until she cuts her out of her life altogether.

After they graduate Eddie and Chrissy immediately jump in his van and take off for a two-month long road trip. They don’t have a plan, and the only way anyone knows where they’ve been is the postcards they send to Wayne and their friends.

When they return from their road trip Eddie and Chrissy take classes at the local community college. It’s not as glamorous as going to a university, but this is the first time in her life that she’s been allowed to do things at her own pace, so she’s going to take the time to figure herself out before she even thinks about planning the rest of her life.

College is not for Eddie. He only finishes a few semesters (kind of) before dropping out. Before he does, he takes a few courses on creative writing to help strengthen his story telling for his campaigns.

Chrissy discovers for herself that despite the pressure put on her by her mother, she does genuinely enjoy dancing, and puts her focus towards being a dance instructor one day.

It takes Chrissy longer to recover from her eating disorders than she anticipated, which becomes a source of shame and frustration for her. Eddie absolutely understands that recovery can take years, and that regressions can happen at any time, even if it’s been years since the last one. He knows the best he can do is just be there for her during the bad times, talking when she needs it, being a silent support system when she doesn’t. He never gives unsolicited advice or opinions; he just holds her and reassures her that he’s there, that she’s not broken or damaged, and that he loves her no matter what until she comes back out of it.

Eddie loves foreplay with Chrissy more than the actual sex because of all the different sounds he can get her to make.

Chrissy enjoys brushing his hair.

Eddie is the better cook of the two, which comes as a surprise to them both.

In the beginning of their relationship, listening to Eddie talk about his campaigns is like listening to someone speaking a foreign language, but it’s important to him so Chrissy always gives him her full attention. He’s also adorable when he gets this excited over slaying the undead.

One day, she helps him fix a plot hole that’s been plaguing him for weeks, and from that time on she begins showing more of an interest in Dungeons and Dragons and how it works. Eddie can barely contain himself when she asks him to help her roll her first ever character: an elf druid.

Chrissy sits in on a few games before she gets up the courage to ask if she can join. The first time she’s at a Hellfire meeting the others are a little leary about her hanging around, but they don’t dare mention it in Eddie’s presence. Soon, though, they not only don’t mind her being there, but start to enjoy her company as well. When she’s finally ready to join, all the guys and Erica make a big show of accepting her character into her ranks. At one time Chrissy would have been embarrassed at being put at the center of attention like that, but these are her friends who accept her no matter what, and she loves them all for it.

Eddie knows that his music is not Chrissy’s favorite, and lets her know he doesn’t expect her to come to every single gig if she doesn’t want to, or simply doesn’t feel like it. She still comes to as many as she can, if only to see him get giddy when he spots her in the crowd from the stage.

Wayne adores Chrissy but he’s not always great at showing it. Her first impression of him when she comes to live with Eddie after her mom kicks her out isn’t the best, since he blatantly tells them both “this trailer ain't big enough for the three of us and a baby.” Chrissy can’t tell if he’s insinuating that she may already be pregnant, but she can’t really blame him for assuming, given her situation. Eddie, on the other hand, almost dies of embarrassment on the spot.

Eddie and Chrissy have their wedding ceremony and reception in Wheeler’s back yard. It’s small with only their closest friends, but it’s perfect.

Chrissy does invite her brother and father. Her brother comes, her father doesn’t.

Dustin is Eddie’s best man at their wedding, and Max is Chrissy’s maid of honor.

Dustin custom-makes Eddie’s cufflinks out of a pair of D20 dice.

Chrissy and the bride’s maids are all pink, green and yellow at the wedding, while Eddie and the groom’s men are black and red. It clashes horribly, but it’s them, and no one can criticize them for it.

Wayne’s speech at their wedding lasts less than a minute. At the end, he tells them that he got them something that better expresses how much he loves them more than his words can. He hands them the keys to the house he bought them.

Chrissy eventually opens her own dance studio in Hawkins. Everyone is welcome, but she is especially protective over the little girls who are easy targets for their weight and appearance. She has an absolutely zero-bullying policy, and that goes for the kids and their parents, and everyone knows it.

Eddie starts writing his own fantasy novels, but only after Chrissy insists yes, he is absolutely a talented writer who can easily create something that is on par with Lord of the Rings. He teases her that that doesn't give him a lot of hope since she’s never actually read the books, but he is encouraged because of the faith she has in him.

He goes with Chrissy to every prenatal and postnatal doctor’s appointment. Every. Single. One. At first the other mothers are put off by his presence in the waiting room, but that soon turns to envy over Chrissy as they wish their husbands showed half the support as hers.

One of their daughters is a girlie-girl who loves Barbies, tea parties and the color pink. The other is a total tomboy who always has grass stains on her knees and leaves in her hair. Despite their differences, they usually get along very well. Their older daughter doesn’t mind playing with dolls with her baby sister, and their younger daughter will absolutely get into a mud-slinging fight to protect her sister’s honor against the school boys who tease her for being different.

Eddie uses Dungeons and Dragons to help his girls learn math.

Everything’s an adventure for the Munsons: grocery shopping, chores, road trips, snow days. It never matters how mundane a task is. Eddie never fails to make everything he does with his family as fun for everyone as possible.

Movie nights with blanket forts, lots of popcorn and candy.

Family-themed Halloween costumes.

Dustin is their kids’ favorite uncle.

Jonathan and Nancy are their childrens’ godparents.

Their house becomes the “safe” house for their girls’ friends as they get older, where they can go to get away from bullies, toxic family members, and society pressures.

[a-local-idiots-shitpost]

Yuu get´s turned into a Turtle-Heartslabyul

Riddle

WHO TURNED THE PREFECT INTO A TURTLE!?!?

why would anybody do that, Grim he could understand but the Prefect is at least a bit more tolerable than their monster

he has to look after them now but for some reason they are very fast for a Turtle and they decided to make his day hell

not only did they release the Hedgehogs and the Flamingos, they also ruined his tea by putting in more sugar cubes than there are allowed

if it wasn´t for the fact that they are magicless (and a Turtle currently) he would have used OFF WITH YOUR HEAD

but for now he settled on making a little fenced of area for them

with the necessary safe guards in place so no bird steals and/or kills them of course

Trey

why is he tasked with looking after the Turtle Prefect?

I mean he doesn´t mind because the worst they do is try and eat the batter for his tarts

but can´t they find someone better to do it? actually the only other ones left are Riddle, Cater, Deuce or Ace

maybe it is good that the Prefect stays with him, who knows what the other will do…

but he will let them fend for themself if they continue to distract him

it´s also surprising that a Turtle is a good kitchen helper even as a Turtle they are more helpful than most of the first years

he even allowed them to walk the cake out

they scared a couple of students who thought that the cake was sentient

it was a very funny sight seeing them running away from a little Turtle, even if it´s actually the Prefect

Cater

he wanted to take pictures of the adorable Turtle Prefect but they kept hiding in there shell and glaring at him

and he could swear they tried to bite him in the ankles

he also took the Turtle Prefect with him to the Light Music Club and it turned out to be a bad idea

Kalim kept trying to feed them until the bite him and Lilia wanted to cook them

it took so long to get the Prefect out of their hiding place and it did not help that they are rather small now and there were a lot of very hard to reach places perfect for a Turtle

and he had to clean them because they got covered in so much dust everything they touched or walked past was completely covered

Ace

made fun of them as soon as he had found out that it was the Prefect

and he got bitten in the nose

they did not get along mainly because he´s not good at looking after someone else

which was not a surprise considering he acts like a little shit most of the time

and he dropped you multiple times you can swear he did it on purpose despite him denying it

because Riddle forced him to look after you he decided to take you with him to his Basketball practice

and it went as bad as you can imagine, Floyd immediately saw you and decided you would be the funniest thing

and there is no way in Hell Ace would start a fight with Floyd

but after nearly getting bitten in half Floyd got bored and let you go

Ace will be in a lot of trouble when you get turned back

Deuce

he also sucked at looking after you but it was less him not wanting to and more just Deuce being Deuce

he forgot you multiple times after class, forgot you everytime after lunch or breaks and he forgot you in the Library once where Riddle found you and gave him the scolding of a life time

but he did always apologize and promise he would do better I mean he never did but you at least appreciate the gesture

you actually hope he never get´s a pet

and he forgot you in a Cauldron once not even you know how that one happened all you know is that you fell asleep during magic lessons and next thing you woke up in a Cauldron and Crewel had to save you

you really hope you´ll get back to normal soon because you don´t think your survival chances with Deuce aren´t very high

[msanimedolphin]

~Back In The Game~

~Chapter Nine~

-Series Masterlist-

What happens when a girl who loves volleyball joins a boys' volleyball club? Does she find love? Will she relive her past or move forward? Join (L/N) (Y/N) on a journey with fun twists and turns.

I don't own Haikyuu or any of the characters.

-Last Time-

“I WAS THERE KAGEYAMA! I DON’T KNOW WHAT IT WAS LIKE FOR YOU IN MIDDLE SCHOOL! I'M JUST GRATEFUL FOR ANY BALL THAT GETS SENT MY WAY! I’ll jump wherever it is! I’ll hit it no matter what type of set it is! So whenever you get the ball… SEND IT TO ME!”

“You guys know how to do a quick set?!” Tanaka questions Kageyama and Hinata.

“What’s that?” Hinata asks, confused.

“That super-fast attack you just did!”

“I’ve only ever spiked balls that have been tossed in big, high arches,” Hinata replies innocently. You chuckle at this.

“But-”

“You just did one Hinata.” You begin explaining while cutting Tanaka off. “You also hit one in middle school. When your setter popped it in the wrong direction during your game with Kageyama is another example.”

“Oh, I don’t remember how I did that.” You playfully shake your head. “But from now on, I’ll hit any spike!” You look at Kageyama who is thinking, and suddenly he speaks.

“We’ve never had any serious combo practice together. It’d be impossible to pull it off.” Hinata looks like he’s seen a ghost when he hears Kageyama say ‘impossible.’

“YOU'RE ACTING QUIET AND TIMID TODAY! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?” Hinata questions.

“Nothing! Now shut up!”

“It’s creeping me out! Quit it!” Before the duo can continue arguing Tsukishima starts taunting us again. This then leads to Hinata explaining his fascination with The Little Giant. The game is about to resume so Kageyama calls you and Hinata over to talk.

“What’s up?” You ask.

“I have an idea of how to get through their blocks.” Kageyama starts. “If we can't go through, we go around. Hinata, I want you to use all of your energy and reflexes to run up and hit my set, got it?”

“Um, Kageyama, I think you should word it differently.”

“Got it!” Hinata yells. You sweatdrop ‘I don’t think he gets it…’ you think.

“Let’s give it a try!” Kageyama responds. You all start to walk back to your places.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better. You say to Kageyama.

“Huh? I wasn’t feeling sick.” He responds. This causes you to chuckle. Kageyama stops walking and looks at you. Stopping as well, you smile at him before speaking.

“I know that. I meant your mood. You seemed sad when we were talking about when you were in middle school.” Kageyama looks at you with confusion. “I wanted to make sure you were okay but the others thought it would be better if I stayed out of it.” Kageyama’s confusion turns into shock. ‘She wanted to make sure I was okay? She cares about me?’ he questions in his head as if he had imagined what you said. “I don’t like seeing people I care about hurt.” At this statement the setter you’re talking to stops functioning. Clueless about the effect your words are having, you continue. “I’m just glad you’re not sad anymore.” After you say this you give him a quick hug, which doesn’t go unnoticed by everyone in the gym. This causes all the boys to become jealous. They give Kageyama glares but he doesn’t notice because he’s so focused on you hugging him. Your head on his chest because of the height difference and your arms around him. When you let go of him you look at his face, it’s extremely red.

“A-Ah! I-I’m so sorry! I just wanted to make you happier but I didn’t consider you may not like hugs!” You continue to apologize and bow. Everyone in the gym, besides Kageyama, sweat drops. ‘It’s not that serious…but it’s adorable how she cares…but it’s toward Kageyama…’ Your actions stop when you hear a voice.

“I-It’s fine. I-It just surprised me” Kageyama manages to say.

“Are you sure?” You ask him with puppy eyes. ‘Those puppy eyes!’ he thinks, surprised. ‘So cute’

“Y-Yea.” He finally says. Your mood immediately turns happy.

“Okay! Let’s get back to the game!” You exclaim excitedly. You begin walking before stopping one last time. “I’m sorry again. I’ll ask next time.” You say softly before continuing to walk before he can respond. After finally breaking from his daze he realizes the glares that are directed at himself. Looking around he sees different facial expressions. On the other side of the court, he sees his fellow first years. Yamaguchi’s face is a mixture of anger, jealousy, and sadness. Tsukishima’s face is mostly blank but anger, caused by jealousy, is slightly noticeable. Kageyama’s gaze then lands on his captain. He looks jealous until Daichi notices he’s being looked at. Daichi’s face immediately shifts to the scary and threatening look he gave when he kicked the two first years out of the gym. This facial expression causes Kageyama to shiver and look away.

He then sees the people on the sidelines. Kiyoko has a slight trace of amusement, the three players he doesn’t know yet don't look too bothered but are still a bit jealous. He finally sees Tanaka and Suga. Tanaka looks pissed. Kageyama can practically hear his thoughts, ‘How dare that snotty first-year hug our angel?! I’m going kick his a$$!’ Kageyama then looks at Suga’s facial expression and pales. Suga has a giant smile on his face, but not the happy kind. The smile is only a cover for the anger that is coursing through him. To make things worse, there’s an aura around him that makes him even scarier.

Kageyama quickly looks away and gets into his place to resume the game. As he is doing so he sees Hinata, who seems to be pouting. Hinata notices Kageyama is looking at him and returns to his ray of sunshine attitude. Noticing the tenseness in the gym, you decide to get to the bottom of it. 

“Hey, guys, what’s up? Why is it so tense?” Everyone immediately stops glaring at the setter and returns to “normal.”

“It’s nothing (Y/N). It’s probably the intensity of the game.” Suga reassures with a smile. You look at him skeptically.

“Okay… Let’s continue then?”

“Good idea.” Daichi says happily.

The game continues and you’re still skeptical but push it aside to focus on the game. Kageyama and Hinata try the quick attack again but fail. They try again and fail. After trying repeatedly and failing each time, they both get frustrated.

“Gah! Why can’t I get the timing right?!” Hinata frustratingly says.

“It’s alright Hinata. You’ll get in eventually.” You say while putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks (Y/N).” He replies with a forced smile.

“Can’t you come in like woosh or zoom?! You’re fast enough to do it!” A frustrated Kageyama says.

“Well! Is it “woosh” or “zoom”?!” Hinata asks.

“Guys, calm down.” You say trying to get them to stop bickering.”Please?”

“Kageyama.” Suga suddenly says, getting everyone’s attention. “(Y/N)’s right. You’re going to repeat middle school if you continue.” Kageyama looks at Suga confused.

“Hinata is fast. He has good reflexes and can jump. With practice he should be able-” Kageyama explains before getting cut off by Suga.

“Yeah, but! Um… Don’t you think the way you’re setting is hindering Hinata’s abilities, especially his speed?” Seeing the confused look on Kageyama’s face he continues. “Hinata is a newbie and has no experience or skill.”

“Suga-san!” Hinata yells. You pat his back as if to say it’s okay. Ignoring Hinata, Suga continues.

“He’s not like the players you had in middle school. But he has potential, talent-wise.”

“Aw, a great talent? That’s too much.” Hinata says bashfully.

“That’s not what he said.” You and Tanaka say it simultaneously, but you say it quietly.

“You have skill. Don’t you think you could use it to uh…I dunno…take Hinata’s unique skill set to…you know…do more…” Suga stutters unsure of what to say. He looks around nervously to see if he should continue. His eyes meet yours and you notice the look on his face. You give him an encouraging smile and nod to tell him he can do it. Still looking unsure, you decide to help him.

“You have to adjust to Hinata’s skill… or lack of…” You say the last part quietly. “Think of it as if you’re playing with a little kid who is just learning how to play, like when you were younger.” Kageyama looks shocked but before he can react anymore Suga begins talking.

“You see… I’m a setter too. Watching you play last year…I was shocked.” ‘You weren’t the only one.’ you think. “Your ball control! Your incredible instincts! But most of all… the decisiveness that lets you dissect the opponent’s moves and predict where they will block.” Tanaka starts to protest about the things Suga is saying until Daichi stops him.

“You have the skill and talent. You have more than enough enthusiasm… but most importantly, you have the vision to see everything around you.” Suga says with praise. “There’s no way you can’t see your teammates too!” Everyone looks at the vice-captain in shock. A smile creeps its way onto your face. You watch Hinata’s expression turn into confusion and Kageyama’s into determination.

“Suga is right. Kageyama your skill is amazing. I thought that when I saw your match in middle school, but it only became even more impressive when I was practicing with you and Hinata. You can do anything you put your mind to and this isn’t an exception. I know you can think of a way to get the quick to work. Just go with your gut.” You say sweetly and reassuringly. Kageyama stands there looking at you while he processes the things you and Suga said. When you notice he’s done thinking you smile at him and nod to tell him he can do it.

“I…” Kageyama begins as he turns away from you and stares at Hinata. “I’m jealous of your athleticism!!” He yells. Everyone becomes extremely shocked but you just smirk.

“Did you know he was going to say that?!” Suga whisper-shouts at you. 

“Nope. I thought it would be him yelling at Hinata about what to do, but I’m glad he said that.” Suga looks at you impressively.

“Who is that?! It’s not like him to say things like that!” Hinata yells. This causes you to stifle a laugh.

“It makes me mad that you waste it all that time.” ‘There it is…’ you think with a smile. “If you won’t use it, then I will! Run as fast as you can and jump as high as you can and fly! Don’t worry about the ball. I’ll bring it to you.”

‘I have a good feeling about this,’ you think with a proud smile. 

~To Be Continued~

[msmatx]

11.14.22–11.21.22 — Week Eight

Two months down. About seven to nine to go. Our return month is still undecided. All the things we’ve experienced: ER visit, doctors visits, two elementary schools, five hotel or apartment stays, dozens of healthy smoothie purchases, a visit to the northern border, a few hiccups not understanding the language, an election [two if we count voting from abroad in the US], purchasing new phones, making friends and hosting play dates, and some very very kind, thoughtful, and helpful people.

Some days and weeks are frenetic with our schedule. “Israel-time” is a phenomenon that requires a real adjustment. I’ve been attending university classes for five weeks, and we have classes four days a week. Not a single class day this semester has been according to the “schedule” given by the department at the start of the semester. We are forced to have class on different days, at different times, and different locations. And the explanation: that’s the way Israel works. Because all of my classmates are also from abroad, there’s a shared frustration. Fortunately, Atlas and Hero have adjusted well to these constant changes.

What none of us anticipated was the untenable circumstances of sixth grade for Atlas. It is beyond a language issue. His class is often in chaos with kids physically fighting and, seemingly, not a lot of learning. At first, I questioned his daily recounts of the chaos. Then, he started sending me videos, or FaceTiming me as it was happening. As a result, he doesn’t seem to be learning a lot of academic content.

On the other hand, Hero is really enjoying his days because they basically play most of the four or five hours. He appears to be the oldest student, but in true Hero style, he has not outgrown the thrill of chase, tag, and pickup ball games. He stays in aftercare most days until 230, where he gets a hot lunch provided and extra play time outside. The deliciousness of his hot lunch seems to be lost on him. He tells me about couscous, meatballs, schnitzel, rice, green beans, stewed tomatoes, and how none of it is to his liking.

Atlas has really stepped up to help care for Hero. My classes go past 5 every night, and even 730 1-2 nights. Often Atlas picks up Hero from aftercare at 230, walks him to the apartment for a snack, and either spends time with him or walks him back to school for club soccer. Some evenings they go out for dinner or desert. It has been such a joy to see their relationship strength through this period. Here they are enjoying a visit to Rebar at Dizengoff mall and immediately FaceTiming me to tell me that they each got one drink instead of sharing a large. They love testing their freedom and my boundaries.

When Hero goes to soccer, Atlas and I get a little one-on-one date together. We usually go to one of the two nearby coffee shops. This is my favorite barista. His coffee art is adorable and he always has the best attitude toward us as we fumble with our English-Hebrew. He knows when I show up I’m looking for one thing: Hero’s ham and cheese croissant so he’s taken to hiding one away for us since they sell out so quickly. The cafe has the most beautiful plants throughout.

This is the other coffee shop, which was the first we visited when we arrived i this neighborhood in September. They are also very sweet to us.

On Friday Hero’s school had an “eco yard family day.” His school has a separate beautifully designed schoolyard the lower grades get to enjoy. Many parents brought snacks and drinks for sell to benefit the class fund. Hero took the opportunity to show me around his school. He was so immensely proud of his classroom and playgrounds. While everyone was in the eco yard, he and I snuck around the rest of the school for him to show me where he spends his day. In Israel, parents rarely go inside the school except when students are younger (Hero’s age for some pick up and drop off and then these family days). I’ve only seen Atlas’s class one time for less than 60 seconds on a brief tour. Every school has a dedicated guard who literally locks and unlocks a huge padlock for students to come in and out. So this was special to see the school with Hero telling me all about how he spends his day.

And the school plays this darling catchy song at each passing period.

Friday evening we went for a walk along the beach before Shabbat dinner on our rooftop.

And on Saturday we walked to David Ben Gurion house for a tour. It was a quick tour that we all enjoyed, even Hero. Atlas said he learned that “Ben Gurion had a massive library and was both defense minister and prime minister of Israel.” Atlas liked how authentic they have maintained the house. Hero said he learned that “he was 84 when he died, he didn’t want anyone to touch his books, and he was upstairs when he got sick before he died.” Hero liked that he loved his library of books. I have to admit this tiny house, by American standards, had a massive library of over 20,000 books. It was impressive.

After the library, Atlas had a brilliant idea to walk from Ben-Gurion’s house to the nearest Rebar. Hahahaha it was about 1.25 miles away near the TLV port. We did get to walk through Independence Park and along the boardwalk, an area we have not spent much time. Then we had to get home on a Saturday and after so much walking the kids wanted to take the bus back. Well, the Shabbat buses are running on Saturday so you pay in shekels, not bus card. I’d spent all of our shekels at rebar so we ended riding the bus two stops, then getting off to walk the remainder of the way home. It was hilarious!

[hyunsuks-beanie]

Surprise

Heeseung x reader; unprotected sex; breeding kink; creampie

Word Count: 1.9k words

Mellow speaks: So I'm taking a break from the alphabet series to write this Heeseung scenario, as requested by the lovely anon! Thank you for the amazing idea anonie, because Heeseung + birthday sex + breeding kink = a dead me lmao. I hope you enjoy reading this. And happy birthday to my adorable bias sksksks!

"Come home soon, I've got a surprise for you," is all you say as Heeseung picks up your call at the practice room, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice and making it as sultry as you can. Hanging up, your boyfriend can't help the tiny smirk that makes its way onto his face, the word "surprise" already sending his mind into overdrive.

It was his birthday, and and while you had already gifted him the latest version of his favorite video game, he knew that the best was yet to come. With his mind on you, he finds it really hard to focus on practice, something the boys are quick to notice. Had it been any other day, they would not have spared any chance to tease him for his mismatched steps, but they figure that today, the least they can do for him (apart from the way they had taken him out to the club last night to ring in his birthday, resulting in a very drunk version of him coming home and flirting with you), was to let him be with his fantasies.

But they're wrong, because barely 15 minutes later, Heeseung is standing before them, begging for them to wrap the practice up soon. "Y/N must be waiting for me at home!, he says for the fifth time in two minutes, pleading to the boys with his eyes and his hands. They know he's never been one to shirk work, so sighing, they decide to give him an out for once. And that's the reason five minutes later, he finds himself on his way home, his excitement nearly getting the best of him as he steps inside your apartment, expecting you to be waiting for him.

But you're not, and he can't help but feel his smile falter slightly, his lips perking up a little when he notices the cute cake on the dining table. "You had been baking," he thought to himself as he searched around the house, trying to find you. It doesn't take him long either, his jaw dropping open as soon as he takes a step into your bedroom. There you are on the bed, looking beautiful as ever in a new set of lingerie, one that he's never seen before but one he immediately knows he loves. The blue fabric of the cloth is barely there, the cuts in the design revealing more than they cover.

He has to tear his eyes off from your body, the urge to rip the undergarments off you and devour you alive growing stronger as he looks up at your face, the soft, almost nervous grin making you look like an innocent deer, a sharp contrast to your bold attire. "We're in for a long night," Heeseung thinks to himself, realizing that no words are coming out of his mouth as he opens and closes it. Seeing his dilemma, you can't help but giggle, biting your lip as you slide of the bed, making your way over to him.

Standing in front of your boyfriend, you look up, the grin gracing your lips once again. As his mind registers what is happening, Heeseung finally manages to choke out a "My surprise is so pretty," his fingers drumming against the bare skin near your neck as his confidence slowly comes alive again. Smiling, you lean up to smash your lips onto his, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss. He kisses you back fervently, running his tongue along your bottom lip as you back him up against the wall. Parting your lips, you allow him to enter, letting out a moan as he explores your mouth. His hands make their way to your butt, squeezing it through the barely-there fabric, as your own tug on his locks, eliciting a soft groan from him.

After what feels like hours, you finally pull away, whispering against his lips, "That's not the only surprise," a giggle leaving your lips at the thought. Heeseung can't help but let out a whine at your cryptic comment, feeling himself getting hard just by looking at you. After a minute of just staring at each other's eyes, you say, "Did you see the cake?," making him nod in reply. "We should cut it, but I just don't want to keep ny hands off you," you continue, and that's all it takes for him to catch your lips in another kiss, his hands making their way to your arms as he leads you towards the bed, pushing you down on it softly. The kiss goes on for quite a while, his fingers running down your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

By the time you pull away for real, your lips are swollen as you feel something hard pressing against your thigh. Smirking, you gently push your boyfriend off you, climbing on top of him as he lies on the bed. "Today's for you," you smile, beginning to grind your hips against his clothed member. You continue to rub yourself against him, as he places his hands on your arms and pulls you down for another kiss, soft groans leaving his mouth as his track pants get tighter. Biting his lip, you pull at it with your teeth, making him arch his back slightly as you pull away. Sliding off him, you make quick work of his pants, pulling them down with his boxers as his rock-hard length springs out in full glory.

Feeling your mouth water at the side, you quickly wrap your hands around him, pumping him a couple times before spitting on his tip, taking it in as you lap up the precum. It doesn't take you long to have him a writhing mess under you, hollowing out your cheeks as you run your tongue around his length. "Fuck Y/N, just like that," he moans out, propping himself up on his elbows so that he can see your pretty mouth working its wonders on him. Using your hands, you push him further into your mouth, deepthroating his cock as your hands wrap themselves around his balls, massaging them. You continue to swirl your tongue around his girth, raking your teeth down his length every so often, something that sends him into a frenzy. The heavenly feeling of you lips around him, coupled with the ethereal scene unfolding in front of his eyes, is enough to send him reeling, and soon enough, you feel him twitch inside your mouth, indicating that he is close. Smirking, you graze your teeth along his member one last time, making him come undone as he releases into your mouth. Not wanting to waste a single drop, you lap his juices up, a thick strand of saliva keeping you connected to his length as you pull away.

Seeing the saliva and cum glistening on your lips, your hair disheveled from bobbing your head up and down, has Heeseung pulling you in for another kiss, moaning into your mouth as he tastes himself on your lips. He pulls you on top of himself again, falling back onto the bed as you hover over him. Still keeping your lips connected, he lets his hands make their way towards your breasts, grabbing them through the fabric as he massages them. Now it's your turn to moan, as he pulls the cups down, playing with your boobs and pulling on your nipples. You feel the wetness between your legs growing, as your desperation to have him inside you making your brain go fuzzy.

And so, you pull away, shimmying out of your panties and letting them fall down your ankles as Heeseung stares at you, his mouth watering. Your hands move to unclasp your bra, when you hear him call out, "Leave it on," his eyes clouded over with lust as he bites his lips. Climbing back on top of him, you begin to lower yourself onto his length when you feel his hands on your thighs, signalling for you to stop moving. You look at him, his eyes holding confusion in them as he tilts his head. It's hard not to coo at his cuteness, but you do your best to keep it in as he opens his mouth to speak. "I'm n-not wearing a c-condom," he says, his voice shaking slightly as he considers the possibility. You simply let out a smile, leaning down to place a hand on his cheek as you licks your lips. "And that's your surprise," you whisper, making his eyes go wide as he opens his mouth to say something. But all that comes out is a moan, as you finally lower yourself onto him, beginning to move your hips and throwing your head back in pleasure.

Heeseung's hands make their way back to your boobs, playing with your nipples as you lean down to catch his lips in a kiss. You continue to grind your hips against his, moan after moan escaping your lips as his length fills you up. All of a sudden, the moan is replaced by a sharp yelp, because Heeseing flips you over, climbing on top of you while taking care not to hurt your pussy. "I want to feel you baby," is all he says, smirking as he starts thrusting in and out of you, your nails raking his back. Picking up the pace, he wraps his hands around your thighs, throwing them around his torso to get a better angle. His mouth dips down to your neck, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses in its wake as you tilt your head to give him a better access, his name escaping your lips like a chant as he continues to hit the spots inside you that he knows drive you insane.

The room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin, coupled with your moans as the both of you inch closer to your high. You know he's nearing his orgasm as you feel his moves becoming sloppier, and the mere thought of feeling his seed inside you sending your mind into overdrive. Little do you know, the very same thought is pushing Heeseung towards his undoing, as he rushes to smash his lips onto your yet again. Pulling away but keeping his lips close to yours, he whispers, "I've wanted this for so long baby," smiling as one final thrust pushes him over the edge, his body convulsing slightly as he releases inside you, his warm seed filling you up to the brim. And thats enough to make you reach your own high, your lips attaching to his as you ride out your orgasm. Heeseung collapses on top of you once you come back to your senses, a small smile gracing his lips. "Thank you so much for trusting me with this Y/N," he says, placing a chaste kiss on your temple. "Did you like the surprise?," you ask weakly, already knowing the answer. "I loved it, and I love you," he says pulling out of you and admiring the way his and your juices spill out of you.

Pushing your body off the bed, you smile at your boyfriend, saying, "Ready for the cake?," expecting him to be hungry. To your surprise though, he just shakes his head, saying devilish smirk making its way to his lips. "Cake can wait, let's get ourselves cleaned up first," he replies, his voice dropping to a whisper as he says the next part, "And this time, I'll treat you."

[writer-akihiko]

Could I get the dorm leader’s reactions to a fem!S/O who punched a student because he was being creepy towards her?

Dorm Leaders + MC Punching Someone

Credits to my precious wife The Miss; I have never punched someone and my wife teaches and does self defense and martial arts, so she helped me out greatly. Work is cut for length purposes.

Warnings: creepy behaviour from NPC students, protective behaviour dorm leaders

Malleus Draconia

Malleus knew it was moments after your last class finished, so why were you late?

Sebek quickly noticed his master, and said that the teacher called for you

He wasted no time rushing to the teacher's room, only for it to be empty…

"I have nothing to do with you!"

He heard your voice, rushing to the source. You were in the gardens with another annoying student…

Unknowingly, he gathered his magic at his fingertips, ready to attack

CRACK!

Your lover witnessed you sucker punch that student right in the nose

What was this? That child of man was deadlier than he thought… and the thought thrilled him

The student scurried away, with a bleeding nose and that was when Malleus revealed himself

He watched as his YN shifted to her timid self once more. Maybe she was embarrassed?

"I witnessed all of it," He said. "My little treasure… you're quite the silent fierce type aren't you?"

You accepted Malleus taking you in his arms. You snuggled into his shoulders, knowing no one was there. "Only to people who annoy me. I'd never do that to you."

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, enjoying this moment with you. "As much as I witnessed how capable you were YN, if those punches ever graze your skin, I might not hesitate to skin them…"

You smacked Malleus playfully. "I swear, I can be safe."

Malleus overall was thrilled every time you showed any display of your strength, although you were quite docile with him so he'd have to sneak around to see you pummel some worthless students

Riddle Rosehearts

He was severely upset that your absence caused his unbirthday party to be delayed

He asked for Ace and Deuce to search for you, but he himself found you near the school labs

Oh, how his blood boiled seeing that it was a Heartsyabul student approaching you…

He was about to approach the student and call him off for his rude remarks, but he didn't expect what was coming next

You punched the much taller student in the stomach, and the student hurled over in pain

"You… You-!"

"I dare you to continue that sentence…" Riddle said, stepping out and standing next to you

He shamelessly brought your knuckles to his lips, "Did you bruise your knuckles my Queen?"

The student tried to run away, but Riddle was quicker to respond

"Off With Your Head."

He would certainly have fun punishing the ignorant student later, but for now he had to tend to you

"I never knew you could do that," He admitted, escorting you back to the location of the unbirthday party. "I'm quite surprised."

You shook your head, feeling a bit shy that Riddle of all people was praising you so. "It's self defense. I'm not one to go around punching people…"

Riddle after having knowledge of your skills wouldn't be afraid to leave you alone, and he'd have his little fantasy of you teaching him some physical defense… With you two being close… He can dream can't he?

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim had you seated next to him during one of Scarabia's parties, enjoying the festivities

Jamil had come over, asking you to excuse your boyfriend as other guests had arrived and were awaiting the host of the events

Kalim greeted the guests, although his voice was slightly strained since all he could think about was getting back to you

As he let the guests roam around, he took one glance at where you were supposed to be…

And saw the view of someone chatting you up…

Well, as the charismatic host he is, he has to put this student in his place-

CRASH!

The student fell onto a small table of snacks after you punched that student from getting too close

"I said," You poured the remaining of your drink on his head. "I don't want to be bothered."

Kalim's jaw dropped at the entire scene, and in his heart he might've been a little afraid of you

As he turned to Jamil, Jamil shook his head. "I didn't teach her that."

After the other servants cleaned the mess up, Kalim approach you cautiously. Giving you a hug from behind

He was relieved feeling your shoulders relax, but he had to make sure…

"YN… Would you punch me if I ever upset you?"

You quickly faced Kalim, holding his face in your hands, shaking your head. "No I won't. That guy was just being annoying…" You gave him a cheeky peck on his jaw. "And how could I ruin this adorable face?"

Kalim didn't mind you punching whoever annoyed you, but he was very impressed that it had gotten to the point where if someone bothered you, Kalim would be on the sidelines cheering at you

Azul Ashengrotto

As the dorm leader who runs the Mostro Lounge, Azul and the Leech twins would be typically busy with the constant rush of customers

In this instance he was grateful that you were willing to help out with the rush hours

He had you and the twins busy taking orders as he organised his contracts

There shouldn't be any troublesome patrons, or that's what he thought…

"Hey! Pretty waitress, why don't you sit with us? I'll buy you a drink!" Some sleazy customer hollered at you

You tried to ignore the students, continuing your duties. Floyd and Jade were too busy to kick them out, but you thought that they could be dealt with later…

From his view, Azul could only watch in disgust as the student dared to pull you to him

Before the student could put his hands on you, you swiped a clean punch across his face

The moment that happened, Azul couldn't help but laugh

The clique of the knocked out student scrambled out, intimidated by the creepy auras the twins emitted, and the way the Lounge owner's eyes pierced their core

You held your wrist in your hand, shaking off the slight pain. Jade and Floyd quickly escorted you to Azul's office area, and Jade even gave you a pat on the head for a job well done

Azul couldn't help himself from hugging you tight, showering you in praises and kissing your hand even though you insisted you weren't seriously injured

"My Angelfish… I should hire you for the Lounge's security instead," He joked, sitting next to you. "Actually… Do as you like! I get quite entertained with that fiery look in your eyes when you do get a hit or two!"

Long story short, you instead worked closely with Azul as a pseudo-bodyguard

Idia Shroud

Idia enjoyed his quiet time, especially quiet time with you, Ortho and video games

He didn't usually go outside, but he would always walk with you after class since you always calmed his nerves

Sometimes, if he was bold enough, he'd ask to walk hand in hand with you after a school day

At times, you could hear the gossip of some students, particularly about Idia…

On one day, Idia had to meet up with Azul due to club work. You decided to meet up with Ortho while waiting for Idia, since Idia wanted to continue his game's story mode with you

Idia quickly finished his business, but as he exited the room, he couldn't help but eavesdrop an interesting conversation…

"Why don't you hang out with us instead of that shut-in of a dorm leader?"

His attention was on the group of boys talking to you, closing in on you

He was caught off guard as you punched the leader square in the nose

"That's for insulting my boyfriend."

Idia had to admit that he got excited over you being so cool! It's like you're the protagonist that rescues the archmage-

Wait… That means that he's the archmage…

After scaring away the group away, Idia ran up to you, hugging you. His jacket covered you both, as you looked up at Idia…

"YN… Thank you…"

Leona Kingscholar

Leona always invites you to laze around, so when you were late, he got irritated

He was competent enough to memorise your schedule, so he knew where you would most likely be

He made his presence known, although he didn't care about the other students in his way

His ears perked up hearing your voice. Why were you in the labs?

He peaked inside to see some boys corner you. Ah… Some students that don't know their place…

"C'mon! Just one date and then you can go to that lion boy toy of yours!"

Oh… Now he was ticked off…

Before he could make a grand entrance, he heard a thud

The student hurled over in pain, clutching his lower half and gasping for air…

Oh… so the little herbivore punched him there…

He couldn't help but laugh, kicking the door open. You immediately went to his side, huffing away from those rude students

As Leona escorted you to his room, he mischievously called you out on it, "I didn't take you for one to go for the crown jewels… You gotta sanitise your hands before touching my sheets though."

You poked Leona's cheek, stopping him from teasing you, "And you, Leona, I might kick yours instead if you don't stop teasing me!"

You yelped, being carried by him. "No can do YN~"

Vil Schoenheit

Vil wondered why you didn't come find him after classes. You'd usually have some afternoon tea with him

He didn't think you'd skip out on purpose, so he commanded Rook to search for you

He also walked around, asking the students in your year whether they saw you or not

He grew anxious, quickening his pace until he heard your voice-

"I don't have anything to do with you, so stop it!"

He turned the corner, seeing you and your arms crossed and a group of students confronting you

One reached out their hand to you, which you retaliated by punching him square in the jaw

The student fell on his other friends, and Vil decided that this was enough

"Ah… I don't think it was wise to mess with my sweet potato…"

The remaining students scrambled to their feet, fearing the dorm leader's magic

"Scram, won't you?"

Vil didn't need to say it twice. The students disappeared, leaving you with Vil

Vil hugged you, patting your head. "My YN… I'm glad that you can defend yourself, but if you continue to do this, your knuckles will be bruised and I refuse to allow that."

You stood on your toes, pecking him on the cheek. "I appreciate the thought Vil."

[venusguks]

Unlike You

pairing : jeon jungkook x fem!reader

summary : As daydreamy and romantic as you are, you decided true love was going to have to wait for you tonight. That was because tonight, you were getting laid !! ...Your best friend doesn’t make it easy for you when he finds out why, though.

warnings : smut, dom!jk, sub!reader, unprotected seggs, fluff, bsf!jk, degredation, dumbification, possessive jk, jealous jk, fun sexy times, jk is whipped for mc, oral (fem receiving), body worshipping, jimin/reader but only for a sec

“A club?” Jungkook raised his brow.

He was incredulous and slightly displeased as he watched you pace around your room. It was rare after all, new to see you like this―in a black, satin dress with a slit high enough to make him upset. He didn’t need you catching anyone else’s attention, especially in a neon lit bar full of ravenous people.  “For the seventh time, yes, Kook,” You huff, jarring your mouth slightly to dab a dreamy red over your plush lips. 

You couldn’t recall the last time you felt so confident as you applied mascara and tickled a delicate pink over your cheeks. More than anyone, Jungkook couldn’t recall ever seeing you this way, this excited to be amidst a crowd of sweaty bodies. You honestly didn’t see why he was being so apprehensive, it wasn’t like you necessarily hated parties―you just always preferred the coziness of your home better. Huge social interactions were never your thing, and that was okay. Being an introvert wasn’t something to be ashamed of anyway, but staying in came with the everyday comforts of baggy sweatpants and sweaters.

So could anyone really blame you for your excitement? You just loved the way getting ready made you feel, missed it. You already knew you were beautiful with or without makeup, but damn did it make you feel confident.

“It’s just...” Jungkook furrowed his brows and ruffled his hair. “This isn’t like you, love. Did something happen? Are you okay? We can talk about it, if you want. Whatever it is, I’m here to listen you know.” 

You sighed exasperatedly at your best friend’s reflection through your vanity. His eyes were uncertain and full of concern as he watched your figure with crossed arms. “Koo, we’ve been over this so many times already. I’m nervous enough as it is, and you’re not helping at all. I want to do this, okay? It’s been awhile. Plus, I haven’t seen the others boys in so long.”

A part of you didn’t want to be annoyed at Jungkook for his incessant worrying, but it truly was hard not to sometimes. “You’re being such a fucking dick, you know that?! Can’t I just live my life without you being so fucking hysterical about it every time?! ” It was that winter a few months ago when you unleashed all your pent up frustration. Jungkook had always been overprotective, and you appreciated him for caring, but he just made it so hard for you to even breathe sometimes. It was the biggest argument you guys ever had when you started dating a boy a few years older. You ignored Jungkook’s calls and messages for weeks, but when you discovered that he cheated on you, Jungkook was the first to be by your side. You still remember the assurance and safety you felt in his arms; with his soft lips against your forehead, murmuring sweet consolations as you sobbed on his shoulder. After that day, Jungkook agreed to be less protective. 

“I just don’t get why it has to be a club. We could meet the hyungs anywhere else, baby.”

“Oh sure, maybe a strip club would do,” you said, chuckling when you see his shock. “I’m kidding, Koo.” Though that wouldn’t be such a bad idea...

Maybe you couldn’t blame him for being so appalled. You usually opted out whenever your friends went out to celebrate, which by the way, was rather often. Night after night, the few of them would call you, practically beg until they realized their efforts would end in vain. By the morning, notifications would spam your phone of their wild night; pictures and details that showcased hookups you didn’t need to know about. Now that you think about it, it was sort of ironic that you’d always grimace to the crude texts.

That was because tonight, you decided you were getting laid.

That’s right, to hell with sweet, wholesome love! If true love had to make you wait, true love would have to wait for you too! Your subscribing 48K readers have been expecting a new chapter of Spring’s Breath, an erotica series, which you’ve delayed for 2 whole months now. You didn’t exactly know when your writers block came, but by the fourth hour you stared at your blank screen, unable to come up with any other synonym for dick or thrust or moan; or how the overused dirty talk you wrote made you cringe―you realized the firecracker you had in writing erotica died out.

It was your dear friend, Hoseok, who suggested the whole ordeal. He was the only one who knew your secret, anyway. You had so much trust in him, so when he professed that maybe if you slept with someone, your spark would come back, you had truly considered it. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. After all, no cons would come out of it. It was just odd to think about.

You have always been such a huge romantic, your literature proved it. Jungkook nor you nor anyone would anticipate you hooking up with someone just to hook up with someone. The tenderness, the connection, the intimacy... you’ve always prioritized genuine adoration over whimsical one night stands. You were an honest daydreamer, and maybe that’s why your works would always take off.

But maybe... maybe it was okay to let go once in awhile.

When you mentioned Jungkook being less overprotective, you forgot to put an emphasis on less―because there he was, his hand possessively squeezing your inner thigh every time you even dared to look at a cute boy. You let out a frustrated sigh when he nuzzles his nose into your neck.

You tried not to mind it. It was just in his nature anyway―ever since kindergarten when he found you crying over your dropped ice cream. Jungkook left only to come back with another cone, rubbing your fat tears away with the palm of his sleeve. In elementary school, he peppered you with tiny kisses when you sobbed over the death of your kitten. You’ve only had him for a month, dedicated all your time to him and skipped play dates to care for your little serendipity―but just like that―he was lifeless. It was Jungkook who found him on the road. In middle school, he’d go through the enveloped confessions in your locker and rip them apart, saying you deserved better than any of them. You’ve always looked up to him througha lens of admiration. Everything he did for you, he did it out of thought and care. It was sweet.

It was times like these where you really started to mind though. 

You’ve been giggling with your friends for the past hour, catching up on every minuscule detail. You were sitting in a booth wedged in the middle of Jungkook and Hoseok, brimming with happiness to see Namjoon and Yoongi again. Its been so long, and your heart would swell to the stories you’ve missed out on.

The night was carrying on delightfully! ...except for the fact that Jungkook sent death glares to whoever even glanced at you. The countless of times you shyly returned someone’s gaze, only for them to rush away when they caught sight of your best friend left you agitated. When the boys were engaged in a conversation about a class they all shared together, you decided it was a good time to bring it up. 

Gulping a shot down, you let out a huff. “Kookie...”

“Yes, baby?” He whispered into your ear, his large hand grazing the access of your slitted dress.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what, love?” You sharply inhaled as Jungkook rubbed sensitive circles on your skin.

Immediately standing up, you squeezed yourself out of the booth. “I’m gonna go dance!” You yell through the loud music, avoiding Jungkook’s eyes, because seriously, the nerve of that man! The rest of your friends cheered, “We love to see you like this, y/n! Enjoy yourself, cutie!” Hoseok laughed when you blew a kiss to him. He made you feel so much more at ease, so much more confident. Okay, you got this! No use in sitting around. You couldn’t get anywhere tonight with Jungkook by your side, anyway.

Fluffing out your hair after you downed another shot, you strut your way into the dance floor. Your hips swayed in a rather alluring manner as you made your way into the crowd, your fingertips tracing seductive lines from your hips up to your waist, your neck and finally, into the air. The alcohol slowly took its effect as your confidence settled in, rolling your head back and moving your body fluidly to the loud music. 

Truth be told, you didn’t know what you were doing, just knew you must’ve looked good as hell doing it as you felt hands grip your waist. You gasped as a body pressed against your back, sticky with sweat.

“You’re so captivating, princess,” His dulcet voice was enough to make you weak...or was it the alcohol? Whatever the case, get your grip together y/n! It was just four words for star’s sake! 

“I, um, th-thank you...um! You too..” Your confidence from only moments ago dissolved with your voice. “So shy now, princess? How come? You were dancing so sexily just moments ago.” He chuckled lowly against your ear, nibbling it. You whimpered to his brazen touch, his hands guiding your hips with his. “Are you shy for me? Is that it? What a cute little princess you are... so beautiful, fuck.”

Annnnnnnnd you truly were fucked. You professed only hours ago that true love could wait, that you’d be a different woman tonight, yet you couldn’t help but feel bashful to the man’s praise. His voice and his nectar sweet words enough to make you feel wobbly.

“I’m Jimin. Can I know my princess’s name?” He pressed his hardened member against your ass, the silk thin fabric barely doing its job of coverage. “Ah Jimin,” you moaned breathlessly as he kissed your neck. “I...I’m-”

“―Mine,” a low, husky voice finished. Jungkook stood behind you, jaw clenched and arms crossed. The veins on his biceps protruded under the incandescent lights; His white shirt and tight, black jeans doing wonders to complement his physique. 

“Are you deaf? I said she’s mine so why the fuck are your hands still on her?” Jungkook had always been intimidating, even when he didn’t try―so in the rare times he did, even he scared you sometimes.

Much to your disappointment, Jimin immediately lets go, hands in the air, “sorry man, I didn’t know.”

“W-what? Wait, he isn’t my...!” Before you could try to reach for the pink haired man, Jungkook firmly takes your hand. “Y/n, we’re leaving.” You didn’t even have a second to feel shocked before he swiftly guides you through the ocean of bodies. Loud music reverberated with your disappointment, and by the time the night’s cold air stings your cheeks, you've processed what just happened―what you just missed. It’s when Jungkook latches your seatbelt on and drives that you feel anger simmer in your chest.

“Why did you...Why the fuck did you do that, Jungkook?” You were exasperated with your emotions. You just didn’t get it. You were finally having the time of your life, finally stepping out of your comfort zone, finally dancing with a guy who made you feel amazing―just to end up on a drive back home before anything could happen. “Seriously, what the hell is your problem? That was my..! He was..!” You groaned, too frustrated to conjure up words.

Jungkook scoffed, “what, y/n? He was what? Your soulmate or something?”

“I didn’t say that! And even if I think so, why does it matter?! I was having fun! I was having so much fun and you just..! (hiccup) I was having so much fun....” You cried into your hands. “I haven’t felt that way in so long, j-just for you to mess everything up. God, I can’t even muster up words right now. I hate you so much.”

“Love...” Jungkook finally sighed, shutting the engine off. You had cried the whole ride home. The anger he once felt diminished with your tears. “Baby, please look at me.” 

“F-fuck (hiccup) off, Jungkook.” You quickly unbuckled your seatbelt and opened the car door. Knowing him as long as you did, you knew he would take your chin to force you to look up at him―but you had enough of him for the night, and honestly, the whole week.

You were just so fucking frustrated at everything. At Jungkook for unnecessarily budging in, at your writers block, at your own sexual frustration left with Jimin. What did you have to offer your readers now? A heartbreak of a possible relationship that never happened with a shitty friend on the side?

You tuned out Jungkook shouting from behind you, striding to you complex and up the stairs.

It wasn’t long after you slammed the door shut that you heard it click open again. You had forgotten Jungkook had an extra spare of your keys. “Just leave me alone, Kook.” You groaned, storming off into your room.

You kicked your heels off and stomped to your bed, taking out your frustration on your pillow where your sobs were muffled. The bed dips down when Jungkook sits beside you, silent as he caressed your hair in the way he always did to soothe your nerves.

Deciding it wasn’t enough this time, he carefully lifts you up to sit on his lap, sliding his arms around your waist to pull you into his chest. Jungkook knew you long enough to know hugs were the best remedy for you, even at your angriest moments. He knew you wouldn’t push him away.

“You jerk...” You buried your face into the crook of his neck, sniffling. “I don’t get you, Kookie. Why do you always do this?”

“I...I just wanted to protect you, baby. People have bad intentions, I didn’t want to see you end up doing something you’d regret,” His voice was gentle, brushing hair strands away from your face.

“Stars, Kook, I knew what I was doing. Whether I’d end up regretting it or not, that’s for me to sort out. I didn’t need you to ‘protect’ me. I was really enjoying myself, something I haven’t done in a long time. A-and you just..! You ruined it for me.”

Jungkook scoffed, “so you liked it then, how he was touching you? You were just going to let him fuck you?”

“Yes, Kook!” You yelled. “He could’ve fucked me in the public bathroom or in his car―in front everyone for all I care! He was hot and we were in the moment and you just interrupted! I know you care for me and I’ll always appreciate you worrying but there’s a fine line where your protectiveness should be. I’m not a kid anymore, Kook.”

Jungkook was gritting his teeth, and the two of you only glared at each other before he let out a sigh. Despite him wanting to be mad, he didn’t like making you upset. If you were going to cry because of him, he wanted it to be for an entirely different reason. 

He gently cupped your cheeks, holding your gaze with tender, sad eyes. “You know I’d do anything for you, yes? That I’ve always done anything and everything I could to help you?”

You furrowed your brows, unsure of how that related to anything, but nonetheless, you nod. “Yes, I know Kook.”

“Then why didn’t you just ask me to sleep with you, hm? If you needed help so bad, why didn’t you just ask me, baby?” You stared, dumbfounded and mouth ajar as his thumbs brushed the remnants of your tears away.

“W-What are you...?”

“Was so concerned for my baby. Hoseok got drunk and told me everything I needed to know. Did you know how hurt I was? How Hoseok knew something about you that I didn’t? Especially that you were a writer, love. I thought I was your number one, how could you keep that from me?”

“O-Of course you are, Koo! You’ll always be my number one. I just...didn’t want to tell you because it was embarrassing,” you mumbled, glancing away. Damn it Jung Hoseok! After all these years, this is when he accidentally slips it out? “Nuh uh, baby, I’m not having any of that. Look at me.”

Jungkook pressed his forehead against yours, an act you were certainly no stranger to, but nevertheless making your cheeks warm. “Not only that, you wanted to go clubbing tonight just to find a stranger to help you, is that right, baby? Wore this tiny dress just so someone could fuck you? Wanted Jimin to fuck you? Wanted to write about him fucking you in the bathroom stall?” Jungkook was speaking softly, though his words were anything but as his hands left your cheeks to trace sensuous lines up your thigh.

Your hands weakly held onto his shoulders, gasping when you felt his bulge press against your sensitive core.

“What was that you said....In his car? Wanted him to fuck you in front of everybody? Wanted to be a dirty slut just for your readers?” You didn’t know how exactly this moment came to be, but his honeyed voice brought you to a daze as you grind your hips against him. You were desperate to feel more—of anything, of him—only to let out a whine when he forcefully holds you down, burying your clothed center into his bulge. 

“I don’t think so, baby. I don’t think you deserve it,” Jungkook’s hot breath tickled your ear. You whimpered as he bit it, hands squeezing your hips. “You used to be so good for me baby, used to come to me for anything. Used to be a good little girl and depend on me. I would’ve helped you, baby. Instead, you became a dirty little slut, let another man touch you. Is that what you are now? A fucking slut?”

“N-no Kookie,” a new bundle of tears welled in your eyes at his harsh words. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sh-should’ve, ah, went to you,” you felt your body succumb to his touch. His nose brushed your jaw, placing warm kisses all over your neck before he glided his tongue down to your collarbone. “Please forgive me, I-I’ll be a good girl for you now, p-promise.”

“Yeah? Wanna be a good girl for daddy?” Jungkook licks the base of your collarbone before sucking it. “Yes..ah, yes daddy. Gonna be so good for you.” 

“And yet you weren’t,” you cried as you felt teeth sink into your skin. “J-Jung― ah, Kookie stop! Please i-it hurts!”

“You deserve this, fucking slut. You know how much you hurt me tonight? You’re secretly just a desperate whore, aren’t you? Missed your tiny cunt getting fucked so much that you’d let a stranger do it for you, hm? Answer me, slut.”

You felt tears drip down your eyes, embarrassment washing over your face. “What? You’re not going to speak now?” You shook your head in desperation. You couldn’t. How could you? It was too shameful.

You yelped when Jungkook picked you up by your waist and turned you over so your face was smushed into a pillow. “Ass up, now. Don’t make me repeat myself.” He snarled, and you immediately obliged. Jungkook was on his knees, eyes lidded to your position as he rubbed slow circles on your bare ass. “My slut is voiceless now, hm? Begged to be daddy’s good girl but can’t even answer when I talk to you. Why are you being so disobedient tonight, baby?” It happened so fast you could barely gasp as your body lurched forward to the slap. It repulsed through your skin as your right cheek stung with a faint red.

“J-J-Jungkook, ah!” You cried as another slap came, face burying further into your pillow. “I’ll be obedient from now on! s-so please! I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry, daddy!”

Jungkook’s lips pulled to a smirk, grabbing a bundle of your hair before pulling you towards him. You whimpered and he bent down so he could see your face, tisking. “Oh, my poor baby. Did that hurt? Want to be a good little girl for daddy now?” You nodded ferociously, “p-please yes daddy! I-I’ll be so good for you. Please let me be good for you!” 

Jungkook’s dick felt constrained in his tight pants. He licked his lips to your messy, desperate state. Your eyes were red and puffy, lips just the same as heavy tears streamed down your eyes. Fuck, what Jungkook would give to fuck you senseless right then and there. But no, he needed to wait, needed to be patient. You deserved this.

“Make up your fucking mind, slut. If you want to be a good girl, then take your punishment like a good girl,” Jungkook pushed your face back into the pillow before slapping your ass once more. 

You didn’t know how long it went on, only knew the room was filled with your sobbing and the alarming sound of the contact that met your bruised skin. It hurt, it hurt so much. Your thighs were trembling and both your cheeks were a lovely shade of red and purple. But no matter how much you screamed your endless arrays of i’m sorry’s, Jungkook didn’t fail to notice how your juices soaked your underwear and spilled down your thighs

“Already making such a mess baby,” He groaned to the sight, palming himself to his creation. 

“P-please....hurts so bad...please let me l-lay down daddy, can’t hold myself much longer, please,” Jungkook adored the way you sounded for him, the way he corrupted you. You were perfect there, so perfectly powerless under him. 

“Mm, keep begging baby and maybe I’ll let you,” he unbuckled his pants and discarded them, his cock throbbing to your feeble pleads. “Please, please, p-please, please daddy... please. Hurts so bad, I-I can’t... please i-i’m a good girl. I’m a good girl for daddy. I’ll do anything please.”

“Did you learn your lesson, then?”

“Yes, I-I did, daddy!”

“You’ll be a good girl and obey daddy from now on?”

“Mhm!” You nodded vigorously, and Jungkook chuckled to your desperation. He peeled your soaked thong down, lifting your limp legs momentarily to pull it off until he set you back. You were so tired you felt your thighs give up on you right then, but before you could submit to your exhaustion, Jungkook lifted your ass up higher, arching your back deeper with one hand.

“Mm I don’t think so baby. Obey daddy and keep your ass up like a good little girl.” A gasp left your quivering lips when you felt Jungkook’s breath on your throbbing core.

“You smell so sweet baby, so fucking wet for me,” Jungkook hikes your dress up and glides his tongue up your inner thigh, wiping your dripping juices clean. “Kookie, mm, please,” he trails delicate kisses over your skin, nibbling it. “Yes, baby?” 

“P-please...please Kookie..!”

“Use your words, baby. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.” Jungkook smiles against your thigh as he hears your soft sniffles muffled by the pillow. His poor baby, always so shy. It was true he loved to tease you, tempt you, and loved making you cry for him—but more than anything, he wanted to take care of you. “Please touch me, Koo, please.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” A sharp shiver crawls across your skin when your pleads are obliged, moaning as Jungkook stuffs his face into your cunt. He kisses your clit softly. One, two, three times before sucking it with his plush lips. His hands were the only thing keeping you up now because you practically melted to the touch. The way his tongue rolled over your sensitive bud already having you see stars. “Ah...feels so good, Kookie.”

“Yeah? Would it feel even better if I do this?” He easily slides his middle finger into your slippery hole, slowly pumping in and out. “O-oh...oh my god, more please.”

“Anything for you baby, but first,” a whimper escapes your lips when you feel him leave you, that is until Jungkook swiftly but gently flips you over so you’re finally laying on your back.

Jungkook’s breath hitches to the sight of you below him, frozen for a moment to the aching pull of his heart.

“You’re so pretty baby, so pretty,” Jungkook’s voice was sweet and smooth as he helped you undress. Fuck, did you know how much you pained him? How much he held back for you, all these years, in this moment? It was so hard not to take you right then, to kiss you until you couldn’t breathe, to touch every single part of you with his lips.

Jungkook has fantasized about you ever since he could remember, but you truly went beyond his imagination. You were so fucking beautiful. 

“...so pretty here,” he kisses your cheeks and your jaw, down to your neck. “And here,” he kisses the valley between your breasts, his hands trailing down your curves. “And here,” your stomach...and finally, taking your clit back into his mouth.

“The prettiest cunt baby, dripping so much for daddy,” he murmurs. His tongue rolls around your clit, pumping two fingers in and out of your slick pussy. It was all too much, the sensations overwhelming your senses as ungodly moans escape your mouth. You felt fuzzy and almost light headed, reaching down to hold Jungkook’s curls.

Your back arches and tears stream down your eyes from the intense pleasure exhausting you, his fingers curling into your sweet spot mercilessly. “Do you like this baby?”

“Love it so much, Jungkook,” You moaned breathlessly, looking down at him through your tears and ... wow. 

Jungkook’s brows were creased as he focused on his tongue devouring your wet cunt, plunging his two fingers steadily in and out of you. His bangs were sticking to his forehead, glossed with sweat while your hands curled around the rest. 

You were taken aback with your emotions. Was it strange, how timid you felt then? Doing this with him was supposed to be sinful, yet for some reason, it felt anything but at that moment.

It was the fact that Jungkook looked so intent, so concentrated in making you feel good. How Jungkook showed his care for you, how he always did, how he was doing right now, cherishing you with his best effort. He wanted to give you the best experience he could, wanted nothing more than to make you feel good.

It was unbearable how much your heart swelled for him.

A knot tied in your stomach, and as if noticing your stare, his eyes flutter open to look at you.“Hm, does baby wanna cum now? You can do it love, cum for daddy.”

With that, you came undone in Jungkook’s mouth. Your cries filled the room, and Jungkook opened your hole wider with his fingers, devouring your cream. The sound of slurping made your cheeks heat with an impure red. “That’s my girl, so good for daddy. So sweet for me baby, so beautiful.”

When you went limp in his arms, he gives your lips one last sweet kiss before standing on his knees. Jungkook smiles at the sight of you, already so fucked out even when he was no where near finished with you. 

He crawled forward, his forehead resting over yours once again. “Did that feel good, sweetie?” You nod shyly, your chests heaving up and down together. With rosy cheeks, you weakly bring your hands up to trace his jaw. “Jungkook?”

“Yes baby?” You melted to his dulcet voice, keeping his loving gaze. It held so much affection, so much adoration for you, you wondered why you never realized it.

“Kiss me, please.”

Jungkook smiles warmly. Without hesitation, he takes your lush, sweet lips in his. It was gentle, a kind of kiss that was so tender it made you warm with reassurance. You were kissing Jungkook—your silly, annoying, bratty, and all the while, lovable best friend of 20 years. It was strange and odd but more than anything, it felt so, unmistakably right.

You took Jungkook by surprise when you deepened the kiss, your hand squeezing his hair. He chuckled softly, pulling himself back momentarily to look into your eyes. “I love you,” he whispers.

Your cheeks heat up, but you fight your timidness as you smile back, “I love you too, Kookie.” 

With that, Jungkook delves back into your lips. A kiss that wasn’t so delicate this time. Rather, untamed and furious, as if Jungkook wanted to show you how much, how long he’s wanted this all this time.

You moaned into him as his hands groped your breasts, fingers twirling your perky nipples. “Jungkookie,” you hold your breath, feeling his clothed cock press against your core. “Fuck me please. Please, I need you so bad.”

“Yeah?” He lowers himself to take a nipple into his mouth. “Tell me how much you want it baby.” He flicked, swirled, and sucked it with his tongue, alternating with the other.

“W-Want it so bad daddy. Please, n-need you to fuck my wet pussy mm, daddy please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he grins and sits up, pulling his shirt over his head, discarding his boxers and...

Oh.

Your breath hitched, blinking at Jungkook’s huge, painfully hardened cock. His tip was pink with sticky, white precum dribbling down his long member. It slightly pretruded up and its veins throbbed as if it’s been aching. And truly, he was. He’s been aching to feel your walls wrap around him for so long. You have no idea how hard he’s been trying to hold himself back for you. How painful it was to—and now, seeing you there, perfect and pretty, so shy and red just for him, Jungkook wasn’t sure he could anymore.

Jungkook needed you. He needed you getting stuffed full of his cock right now.

“I-Its so big...” You gulp as he centers himself in between your legs. “I know baby, so big and ready for your tiny cunt. Can you be a big girl and take it for me baby, hm? Let daddy fuck you until he’s satisfied? Let him use you like the little cock slut you are?”

“Y-yes daddy,” you whimper as he rubs his slick tip against your soaked, smooth cunt, sliding it back and forth. “I’m yours so please, p-please just use me daddy!”

“So good for me baby, such an obedient little slut for daddy, fuck,” Jungkook groans, slipping his tip into your lush walls. You cry as he stretches you all the way out, leaving no room for you to breathe with his tip poking your tummy. Your mind felt dizzy, mouth ajar with drool slipping out even when he hadn’t even moved yet. 

“Shiiit you should see yourself baby. Such a fucking whore for daddy’s cock. Can I move, baby? Or can this tiny little pussy not take my big cock?”

“I-I..mm, please, I can take it! Please fuck me daddy!”

“That’s my girl.” Jungkook starts off painfully slow but just as painfully hard, pushing your knees to your chest. He completely draws himself back so he can see his glistening, twitching tip before driving himself back into your core. “Shit baby, your pussy’s so, fuck, tight.” Jungkook moaned to how your breast bounced up and down every time he shoved himself in.

You were sobbing by the time he quickened his pace, the intense sensation having you light headed. Jungkook loved the way you looked under him, eyes rolled back with buried balls deep inside of you. “You like this baby? Love my cock filling you? Answer me.”

“L-love mm love so m—ah, Kookie..! f-feels so....g-good daddy.”

“Look at you, baby. Can’t even talk with daddy’s cock stuffing you. Such a dumb slut for daddy, so fucking hot baby.” Jungkook moans, juices spurting everywhere and dampening the sheets with every thrust.

“I-I’m not d-dumb..!” You whimpered, fat tears streaming down your eyes. Jungkook smirks, licking his lips.

“Aww, of course you are baby. Just a dumb little cock slut for daddy. Can only think of daddy’s cock, can you?”

You can’t bring yourself to answer, your mind too scrambled with each and every thrust. Jungkook was going so fast, so hard, you felt so full.

“That’s what I thought baby. My sweet girl, fucked dumb for daddy. You only need daddy’s cock, nothing else.” Jungkook positioned your legs over his shoulders, clenching on to them to drill deeper into your tummy.

“Oh, o-oh my god, ah d-daddy...! ‘m your slut...love your dick so m-much...love being stuffed with cock.” Jungkook groaned to your sinful moans, feeling his stomach tighten.

“Just want daddy to cum inside you, don’t you? Want daddy to fill you up until you’re dripping with my cum, baby?”

“Y-yes, please daddy! Want daddy’s cum so bad! Please give me cum..!” Jungkook shoves his thumb inside of you plush lips, and god, he’s so proud of his work, so proud of you. You were taking his thumb like a good girl, sucking it as if it were his cock.

Jungkook felt his dick throb inside of you, aching for release. He pulls his thumb out with a pop of your wet lips, coated with saliva, and rubs figures over your clit. You scream, gripping onto the sheets. it was so much, too much for you to handle. Your back arches as he abuses your clit and sloppily fucks your hole.

“J-Jung–Jungkook, ah, please! Kookie! I-I’m..!”

“Its okay, baby, its okay. Gonna cum with daddy, hm? You can do it baby, sweet girl, cum for me,” Jungkook cooes, attempting to soothe your nerves, but his words are breathless and ragged. He thrusts in and out one, two, three, four more times until he burries himself deep inside you, spurts of thick cum filling your womb.

Jungkook groans as your pussy clenches around him, and you’re a sobbing, moaning, wet mess as you milk him. “Fuck, my sweet girl. Taking my cum like a big girl baby. So good for daddy, so fucking good for me.” With his praise, you feel yourself release soon after. Jungkook continues to thrust in and out of you, helping you ride out your high.

When he feels you falter in his arms, he pulls out and lays on top of you. Both of you stay like that for awhile, exhausted and in a daze.

With your moist bodies tangled with one another’s, you shut your eyes. You can hear Jungkook’s heartbeat hammer against yours, you short-winded breaths, and the soft whirring sound of the air conditioner.

Moonlight filtered in through your windows, casting a luminescent glow on Jungkook’s skin when he pushes his upper body up, his shoulders resting on either side of you.

Jungkook had spent the whole night cherishing you, telling you how pretty you were, and yet there he was—so ethereal under midnight’s grace. How could he be real?

You bring your hand to caress his cheeks. You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

In that moment, so intimate and sacred, His doe, gentle eyes that you could get lost in—that hold all the lost stars of the night sky, tell you all you need to know.

You yawn, stretching your arms high up. “Here’s your order maam,” two porcelain cups of matcha are placed in front of you, steam following it’s every movement. You mumble a thank you, smiling before your eyes drift to the man at the other side of the cross walk.

He’s wearing all black as per usual, revealing the beautiful tattoos that adorned his tan skin. His hair was tousled and he looked sleepy—after all, he’d just gotten out of class—but as soon as the crosswalk lights up with green, you chuckle when he sprints across and into the shop.

The bell that hung by the door didn’t even finish ringing before he runs to you, sweeping you off your chair and into his arms. “Kookie, let me down!” You giggle, but nonetheless wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I’m so proud of you baby,” he nuzzles his nose into yours. “You finally published it right? The twenty second chapter?”

a / n : ahhhhh its exactly 3:01am and i have class in the morning which is why the middle ending is super rushed sorry ! i truly wonder why i do this to myself.

this is my first smut fanfiction so i’m not sure how i did , but if anyone ever reads this , i hope you enjoyed ! i dont think im cut out to write smut, i truly did have headaches thinking of synonyms for thrust and dirty talk . i really admire smut writers ,, writing smut is not as easy as it seems !!

anyways , sending love abundance and happiness your ways. you deserve love, you’re worthy of love, and you are love.

stay safe and healthy starlights <3

[ready-to-obeyme]

[OM!] Demon Brothers panic-buy MC a last-minute birthday present

Prompt: You drop the fact that your birthday is in a few days, much to the demon brothers’ surprise. They don’t have a gift for you prepared-- panic ensues.

Note: gender neutral; :) i just like seeing them get flustered

--

Lucifer

“Ah, your birthday? Of course I knew. You thought I didn’t?”

He didn’t know-- not until you told him just then a mere DAYS before your birthday

Internally panicking but he will NOT have you know that he missed this rather important detail

Casually asks you in the next few days if you’re free to go out with him because “he wants to spend more time with you--” which he DOES but he has ulterior motives such as hoping you’d point out something you like when you go out so he can gift it to you

Will watch your movement and gestures like a hawk trying to gauge what sort of present you would want from him

Money isn’t really a concern of him; he just wants to make sure that his gift is something you actually want and is thoughtful enough

If he’s unlucky and you are in fact NOT free in the few days leading up to your birthday, he paces a lot in his room, trying to remember if there was something you mentioned from a past conversation because he has too much pride asking you what you would want for your birthday

...but eventually caves in and asks his other brothers (probably Asmo or Beel) what they think you would like because his love for you >>> his pride

He has seared your birthdate into his mind now because he’d rather not have a repeat of whatever happened this year

--

Mammon

“Your birthday? Hahaha of COURSE I knew your birthday was in a few days… IN A FEW DAYS--?!”

He blurts this out but you tell him it’s fine but he won’t have it

He’ll try to cover it up, pretending he knew, but he sucks at lying and the fact he suspiciously walks out of your room to find a quick job listing to get enough money for a present is telling enough

First ideas most likely include rummaging in his room for anything valuable or shiny that you could possibly want

Considers giving you his car for a second in his panic but realizes you’d probably freak out at the extremely extravagant present

Will definitely try to snoop in his brothers’ rooms in search of things and collectively tells them (and makes them panic) about your birthday as well

Eventually sucks it up and works at Hell’s Kitchen, literally diving underneath counters and tables to avoid having you see him working

Terrible at making excuses to you about where he is so you probably know he’s working, and he feels bad that he has to avoid hanging out with you-- but he loves you and this is for you, after all, so he bears it

Buys you something he finds value in and thinks would like nice if you wore it; after all, the Avatar of Greed wants the best he can afford for you

--

Leviathan

You tell him your birthday is coming up soon while he’s playing something and the only thing he says first is “oh nice”

Then he realizes

“YOUR BIRTHDAY IS WHEN??”

He died on the screen, which you point out, but his eyes are wide and a little pleading

Asks you directly what you want for your birthday and he will literally search it up for you on Akuzon right there and then (it’s wild seeing online shopping on several screens)

“How about this one? Wait, no-- that’s terrible quality and the reviews are horrible; let’s check out this one.”

Makes you tell him everything you could have possibly wanted in the past few months so he can compile a list of things he can search up and select from

If he’s manic for the next few days, know that he hasn’t been gaming (has not since you dropped this very important detail) but has been vigorously searching up all the online shopping sites he can find to get the things you wanted down to its detail and quality

Definitely enlists his online friends for recommendations, but regardless will buy you matching gaming headset on top of whatever you wanted because he wants you to know you’re his Player 2, even if you don’t game

All the presents come on the same day (Mammon grumbles that it’s blocking the walkway) and he shoos you away as he carts everything up to his room to wrap it

Wishes he had more time to make you a present instead of buying something but hey there’s always next year

--

Satan

“O-Oh. Your birthday is in a few days, huh?”

Satan stares at you for a few moments too long as if he wants to say something but decides against it and gives you a benign conversation starter like “You must be excited for another year done”

Inwardly, he’s trying to calculate in his head when he has time to research for things you want, if going on a cat cafe date is too indulgent to be a gift to you, if he should just ask you what you want for a present-- all while holding a conversation with you

Not a great conversation, mind you-- you can tell he’s a little preoccupied, but you’re more worried about how his sentences trail than anything

Pops up randomly in the next few days in your room just to chat, looks around your room, and then leaves again (like a cat)

He’s trying to find a present that you’d want to use-- something practical-- but also something you’d also enjoy having (he’s setting up high standards, but he wants his gift to be good enough for you)

Low-key stressing a lot over this that he’s a little distracted at all times

Ends up combining all his gift ideas by setting up a date for you to spend some quality time with him AND buy your gift when the two of you are together AND has a gift ready for you just in case nothing catches your fancy on your date (he is anything if not prepared for all scenarios)

The gift he gets you is something he’d think you’d enjoy or reminded him of you (and hopes for the best)

--

Asmodeus

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME EARLIER?”

Asmo is almost offended that you didn’t tell him about your birthday-- how is he supposed to set up a extravagant birth week celebration if your birthday is in a few days?

But no matter-- he’s not that discouraged and is determined to rock your socks off with a present anyways, even though he would have definitely had your birthday celebration as a tag for the entire month if he had the time (now it’s only a week-long trending tag, but he’ll make do)

Will definitely coyly offer up himself as a present (and if you say yes, he will be at your mercy) but thinks he has more creativity that than to make you special day great

Takes you on a shopping spree where he dresses you up in the fanciest of clothes and things that you have always adored and refuses to let up until you let him buy you a gift

On the day of your birthday, he offers up his room as an entire spa day-- pedicure, manicure, whatever-cure you would ever want! Massage, face mask, bubble bath-- if there’s anything that can let him show how much he appreciates you, then tell him! He is at your mercy today!

Takes you out on a spin in town, buying you drinks and dancing with you at clubs if that’s what you want; but the night is yours, hun!

Beelzebub

You tell him when he’s eating something and his face morphs from surprised, delight, to sadness

“I… didn’t get you a present yet…”

You reassure him that it’s completely okay, but you know your words aren’t working because he still has that forlorn expression that reminds you of a kicked puppy

Asks you directly what you would want and if you tell him he’d be more than happy to get whatever it is you requested, even if it’s a physical gift or if you want to spend the entire day with him

It is your birthday and he already feels bad for not being able to really prepare for it properly, so he’ll do anything he can to make you happy

If you don’t tell him what you want, you better be strong enough to resist looking into his eyes to not cave into just telling what you want

Eventually settles on giving you something thoughtful and quickly hand-made-- like a set of coupons that say things such as ‘I will do your chores for a week’ or ‘I will make you dinner’

The coupon book has a lot of food-related things than anything, but you know his love language is basically food-- he loves you lots, okay?

Other than that, he’s super indulgent to you on your birthday. You want a lift? No problem. You want him to carry you bridal style to school? Sure, he can’t see why not!

--

Belphegor

“Wait, seriously? You waited until NOW to let me know?”

Kind of annoyed about the fact you dropped this detail on him now and decides to immediately punish you by trapping you in his embrace in a forced snuggle even while you laugh (so honestly, you have no regrets)

Tells you he’s not getting you a present

He’s getting you a present though, regardless of what he says, but now he has the element of surprise on his side (assuming you believe that he’s not getting you something)

Hangs out with you per usual in the next few days, paying more attention to what you would want in a present and asking low-key questions about possible gift ideas-- he’s real sneaky about it, so you honestly won’t pick up on it at all

Goes out of his way to help you study and help you out because it is your birthday, after all, and he’s pretending like he didn’t get you a present

Probably casually drops off a gift at your desk on your birthday, and if you’re surprised, he’s a little smug-- but if you’re not, he’ll be a little embarrassed but will tell you to just ‘open the present already’

Gift is most likely to be something that he’s noticed that you have continually needed but never had the thought or time to get-- just to make your life a little easier

Tells you to go nap with him as compensation for the work he’s done trying to think up of a gift for you

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey buisness - john shelby x reader (part 2 of ?)

read part one here!

a/n: hey loves! i'm finishing up school rn, but i had to get this out and i'm about to start working on a tommy request immediately after i upload this. anyways, i'm so excited to post this series, it's incredible and i can't thank my bestie @stxdyblr-2k enough. she is a fucking genius :)

prompt: you can't get john out of your head. lo and behold, here he is.

warnings: fluff, mentions of smut, angsty af, soft john (ugh my heart)

Despite your best efforts, you'd been unable to stop yourself yearning for John Shelby. Your pokey flat now often lay empty; you were far too busy to mope at home due to your career as a personal assistant to a local solicitor who was allied with the Shelby's, attending rallies and lectures with Ada and the drunken nights you'd spend at various mansions, galleries and club openings with the "razor chasers" you'd become friendly with due to their refusal to leave Ada alone. Yet still, in those odd seconds of calm you seized over a cigarette, the first seconds after a bump of Tokyo, when you carefully applied your makeup, styled your hair or bathed, you'd think of him. The way the pads of his fingertips felt on your skin, how he’d muttered in your ear how pretty you looked.

But this was different to when you were dreaming about John at 15; he was no longer the allusive older brother of Ada who had a string of beautiful girls on rotation. He wasn’t a fantasy anymore. He was true flesh and blood, and for a moment he had wanted you.

It would be delicious if the whole situation hadn't left a bitter taste in your mouth. Of course you came back to Brum to only immediately fuck it up. The first night, and already you were so close to ruining everything? Looking back, now that you were so close with Ada once more, now that you knew who John had grown to be, that night was cringe inducing. Luckily, no one had seemed to catch on. Luckily, you thrived in the Small Heath rumour mill once again. All the gossip about you was mainly about your substance use, the lads you were seen curling up with outside nightclubs, your intelligence, your helpful nature, sometimes your questionable politics but that was all. John's was far darker, stories of blood, death and gasoline. Recently, the tales of his conquests had quietened, but only due to the lurid delight taken by the factory workers in talking about the recent blinding of some poor fucker who'd crossed the wrong person. Obviously, a lot of the detail had to be exaggerated for shock value and to boost the Shelby status, solidifying them as notorious throughout Birmingham city and its rural surroundings. There were murmurs everywhere about the violent John Shelby: ruthless, cocky, vengeful. It seemed impossible that the same man who cracked shit jokes just to see you smile, kissed you with so much desperation, and prioritised getting you off first could cause such harm without an ounce of guilt or shame to slow his swagger.

Whispers of war were far more constant, but then again, people would say anything for a reaction. You didn't bring it up with Ada. You refused to (openly) partake in mindless gossip on principle, yet you were hungry for information about him.

***********

You'd long forgotten whose wedding you were at. Some loyal blinder, a close friend of the Shelby's, the occasion calling for a large white marquee to be built onto one of Tommy's gardens, fully staffed with the best chef and service team money could buy (from a London restaurant at short notice; when Finn told you the extortionate figure Tommy had paid, your jaw had dropped). The cake, dress and decorations were stunning; you weren't sure exactly what the groom had done for the Shelby's but you could only assume the worst for what they'd splashed out on him.

However, thinking like that only spoilt your night: you'd realised at your fifth club takeover, now you repeated it like a mantra constantly. You'd quickly learnt every excess the Shelby's granted to those outside their circle were due to some perceived sacrifice for being associated with them. Well, that's what you chose to believe after John had sent a junior blinder to your office with a bouquet, the Monday morning after he turned you down. So, it was best to smile and take the shit, get paid, and get out as soon as possible. You were to keep your head down until then.

Yet, keeping your head down was difficult tonight. Ada had treated you to a shopping trip to London for the occasion this morning, Arthur forcing the junior blinders to tag along next to you on the train and trailing less than two metres behind you for hours. You missed the days when it was just you and Ada. It was far more simple without the stares whenever the two of you stepped out. Ada had gotten used to it, she'd devised her own methods of being completely alone; complex plans involving leaving a window open, knotting sheets into a rope and twisting her ankles. Not that she minded, she reckoned the suffocation of being a Shelby was much worse than a few bruised ankles.

You were wearing a clingy emerald green dress from some fancy French boutique you couldn't even pronounce, the diamond necklace sitting along your collarbone and the jewels dangling through your ears were on loan from Ada. You felt eyes unpicking you the moment you entered the after-party. Your arm was linked through Ada's as per usual, she looked equally stylish in a peacock blue number that set off her eyes, her delicate features perfected with makeup.

You'd quickly found your gaggle and began drinking and dancing the night away. Whispers about snow arose from your table, people disappearing to the toilets to rail a line on the bathroom counter, then to the dance floor or to the lap of the poor fucker who'd hold back their hair while they vomited in just a few hours. At least the Blinders were polite about it. Isaiah would kill them if they weren’t. You'd let your arm be tugged on various bathroom trips, treated among your group like secret missions although you weren't entirely subtle about it.

What you weren't aware of was across the marquee, you were being watched by the three men in your life who you'd never want to see you in this state: the Shelby's.

"Looks like Finn's taken your spot, John." Arthur yelled in John's ear over the loud music, gesturing to the youngest Shelby sat at the table next to you who was staring up at you in complete adoration as you chatted across him to Michael, seemingly arguing with him. By the looks of it, you were winning.

John pulled a face at Arthur. “Fuck off, old man. That'll never happen. Finn’s too young for her." He immediately regretted the words that had fallen out of his mouth, revealing far too much for his comfort.

"It's not impossible."

"He's just not right for her, yeah?"

"And you are?"

John didn't bother to bless him with a verbal response, instead flipping him off and downing the rest of his whiskey. "It's not like that."

"What's it like then? Because from where I'm sitting, it's pretty fucking clear, John." Arthur slurred, glass of whiskey sloshing onto his sleeve.

"You're too gone to even know you're chatting shit." John sneered, standing up, "I'm off for a smoke and some fresh air. Try not to fuck anything in my absence, both of you."

His brothers cursed him out as he left. John took a second to figure out his route, purposefully having to cross your path, gesturing for you to follow him subtly. He was surprised you came trailing after him, telling Michael that you weren’t done yelling at him and you’d be back. When you were both only metres from the marquee, he knew you were fucked. You were instantly bored, begging him for a cigarette, which he lit for you, shaking his head at your state.

"You're a fucking mess, love." He said, mouth sloping attractively to one side.

"Takes one to know one, John-boy. Where are we off to, then?"

"Somewhere fucking quiet, can barely hear myself think. Plus, you need to sober the fuck up, lass." He said, softly, as he walked across the dew soaked grass. You followed, heels in hand, holding your dress up as not to ruin it. He sighed, taking the shoes from your hands and wrapping his blazer around your shoulders, linking your arm through his for stability. He kept the distance respectful, but there wasn’t any denying the thick tension in the summer air between the two of you. Ahead, there was a small stone bench sat at the foot of one of Thomas' manicured gardens, and John offered his hand to help you sit. You made small talk and caught up on each other's lives, and you noted John only seemed to glow when you asked about his kids. He talked at length, the drink seemingly unhinging his jaw. There he was again, the John you knew and had admired for so many years. You could sit here forever, watching his blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight. Yet, it just wasn’t meant to be. You wished you could stop time just for a bit, give you enough moments to memorize the freckles on his skin.

"You know the night I first came home?" The alcohol and snow had loosened your lips. You were teetering on the edge of your boundaries, but you couldn't care enough to hold back.

"The night where absolutely nothing happened?" He joked, raising an eyebrow at you, cautious that you'd randomly brought it up in your state. "Sweetheart, this can wait."

He was warning you. For a second you managed to bite your tongue, but curiosity tipped you over the edge.

"But something nearly happened, right?"

"Y/N. Don't." He warned, his tone icy, suddenly distancing from you, hiding between an emotional boundary which he didn't wish to explore.

"John, it's just us. Can't we even talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about, though. You were off your face then, and now. That's fine. We know where we stand. It can't happen."

"I wanted to. I do want to."

"You don't. Trust me. You need a nice lad who'll marry you and look after you. Just need to keep your nose clean long enough yeah?" He teased, trying to lighten the mood, blue eyes begging you to move on.

Your head turned to face him, your face contorting in a mixture of confusion and irritation. "You don't get to tell me what I want or need. The last thing I want is to marry any lad, nice or not."

"I didn't mean it like that, right? Look, I just meant you deserve better than Shelby scum. You're going places you know? Don't settle for Small Heath." John responded with a pained sigh. He didn’t want to get into it with you; not here, not like this. He'd thought about it, naturally. You were constantly on his mind, yet only problems ever seemed to appear, never solutions. It was best for him to avoid you. Why the fuck did he drag you out here? Horrible idea.

"Your family isn't scum. Where the fuck did you get that from?" Your face was screwed up in genuine rage. "I-"

"Y/N, fuckin’ leave it."

His face had hardened completely now. He'd snapped at you. His voice hadn't raised, it was just the power he spat his order out with. You held up your hands in mock surrender, pointedly taking a cigarette from his front pocket and light it silently, not saying a word.

"Why are you so bothered, anyways?" He asked, breaking the silence like you knew he would. John always had to ask questions.

"Fuck off with that, John. I'm not in the mood."

"What do you mean?" He looked completely lost.

"We nearly had sex. Just sex, nothing else right?"

John remained silent.

"Would it be the worst thing in the world?" You asked, your voice wavering. It was hard enough to get the words out, let alone imagine the response.

"You're far too wasted to chat about this, love."

"John, I’m not-"

"I'm serious. You're fucking mashed like my brothers aren't you? Like all those other fuckers in there." He sounded genuinely angry. In the glow of the sunset he looked so much younger, so hurt and lonely. Why hadn't you noticed before?

He turned to you, eyes widened and shocked at his own outburst. "You're not the only one gone yeah? Ignore me, I'm fucked, sorry."

You reached out your hand and linked your fingers through his in silence, the warm evening wind ruffling your hair and dress, blocked from your skin by John's suit jacket which was wrapped around your shoulders. Not that anyone would notice or care. As long as Ada wasn't with you, you could disappear for hours without any alarm. There you sat in the tranquil last few moments of the day, your hand linked with John's, both beyond tipsy. You weren’t thinking properly but it felt right. You felt safe. You didn't want to have to return to the chaos of the party, to have to catch up on who your friends were currently trying to screw. None of that seemed to matter anymore.

Was it too much to ask for something to be simple? Maybe you didn't have to fuck him. Maybe just these small moments were enough. You laughed at the thought when it crossed your mind; neither you nor John were known for consistency or stability in relationships, you being admittedly rather inexperienced, only having been with a few men, and he had his fair share of escapades. But he was just so different. You wouldn't admit that he'd gotten your attention in any way than purely sexually (which surprised you to admit) and for fun, but you genuinely enjoyed his presence.

He was right though. It wasn't a good idea at all to hook up. There was far too much baggage for both of you to make it worth it.

Just once?

You glanced over at John. He rolled his eyes at you, but the edges of his lips were slightly upturned, his dimples faintly peeking through his defined cheeks.

Just once couldn't hurt.

***

The sky was streaked with shades of gold, amber and blood. John could feel the friction from your knee barely knocking against his, the pressure putting him on edge. In fairness, he had drunk heavily, and that's what happens when you let your guard down around beautiful women. He couldn't believe you had told him you wanted to have sex with him still. He'd chalked the whole situation down to a drunken mistake that would have progressed into a far more significant drunken mistake. Ada would never forgive him if he went for another of her mates. Especially Y/N. No matter if he said that Y/N could be different, that you wasn't just another conquest. But who'd believe him?

Far better to keep his mouth shut.

Far better to play safe.

As you were called back to the party by the gaggle of girls John vaguely recognised from hanging off the arms of other blinders, he realised (despite his state) that you were right. Having sex with you wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. In fact, it might be one of the best.

Just once?

He watched your figure disappear back into the marquee, waiting for you to turn back and look for him. You do. He would have done the same if it was him.

Maybe just once wouldn't hurt.

***

to be continued!

[gemma-collins-ily]

OMG I LOVED your latest Kaz fic titled "Crossing of His Fingers and Ankles"!!! If you would, would you kinda do a part 2 of them making the (attempting to) watching the sunrise together a once a month activity and the other crows catching them asleep on the couch together and teasing them?

Form of Love

a/n - awwww, this is a little shorter but I really love it as of now! The cutenesssssss! Thank you so much for the compliment, and the request of course! I really enjoyed writing it xoxo ❣️💝

Warnings: nothing???

Tagged: @mrs-brekker15 (released early for you xoxo hope you feel better!)

This is the part two of Crossing of His Fingers and Ankles!

It would always end the same way.

Kaz half-heartedly cursed you internally for the sole reason that he used to be able to get through an entire night with only cold, long since brewed coffee and his will to work.

Now, it was all he could do to stay awake for a few hours into the night at most.

But he could never truly be mad at you: partially because his predicament was both benefiting him and ruining his business all at once. See, now he could get a proper night's rest and the bags under his eyes were gradually fading, it was true, but he managed to complete far less paperwork, no longer powering through till dawn.

This would be no problem if he weren't so stubborn in deciding that he specifically had to do all that paperwork on his own. There were others in the Dregs who would jump at the chance, needing something, anything, to fill their days, but Kaz simply hoarded his workload to himself.

Every month, you would figuratively drag him to the sofa, and if he were to blatantly refuse, you would only smile knowingly. Long ago was it acknowledged that you could persuade Kaz to do almost anything, to your mass benefit, and his mass disadvantage.

You only needed to be there, words unspoken yet present in your mind and he would be won over before you even opened your mouth to speak.

Yes, you only watched the sunrise together once a month, but you would spend every free night you had with Kaz, scanning over documents and each of you holding them before your face, pretending to catch the light to read fine print, when really, you were sneaking regular glances at the other over the papers.

He appreciated you giving up your time for him, and often thought you should use it for anything else, but in the end, he wouldn't ever stop your evenings together voluntarily.

It could be selfish, but your excuse was that he was still working, to which he would raise an amused brow. You did work together, although he'd eventually have his gaze on you for minutes at a time, it being too tempting to resist.

You did the same of course, admiring the strong tea shade of his irises and the slope of his nose, or his fingers moving nimbly amongst the papers.

When he'd catch you directly looking at his glove clad hands, he'd swiftly whip out a pack of cards and preform a magic trick, never ceasing to adore the twinkle in your eye that showed how marvelous you thought it to be.

After a while, he could bear to do the classic trick of palming a coin and pretending it had appeared from behind your ear. That sparkle of amazement made it worth it for him. It always would.

You were the only one he would willingly give kruge to, no matter how big the amount. Kaz desired to gift you the world, believing you deserved it and you constantly reminded him he had already given you all you wanted.

Kaz would always smile genuinely and warmly at those words, that crooked smile, the one that slanted minorly to the left and the one you loved. More than everything.

Now, he could barely stay awake long enough for your scheduled sunrise observing. When the first light made itself known, you would plonk down onto the couch, Kaz following a moment later, and you would revel in the sun drifting across your skin, plus the colours painting the skies.

Ketterdam was truly beautiful. You only needed to know how to see it, and when.

Kaz never actually looked at the sunrise for long, instead choosing to stare at you, enjoying the look of bliss on your face.

He may break the usual promises he made, and you futilely agreed to, knowing Kaz would allow you to slumber anyway, but he would never stop curling up on opposite ends of the couch with you.

That was the one promise he would always keep.

Inej was the first one to discover you together, vulnerable as you slept away, Kaz too.

She was ever the early riser and had knocked softly against his oak door, hoping to drop off the knowledge she had gathered on the streets and leave early, not needed until the heist meeting later that day.

When he had not answered, she had rapped her knuckles against the wood a little more sharply, then pushed open the door a crack.

She couldn't believe it when she observed you and her boss limp on the sofa, your head facing his way, and his lolling in your direction because you had been looking at each other, slow blinks hindering your view until you had drifted off.

He had forced his eyes to stay open just a little longer, if only so he could appreciate you for a small increment of time more.

Her eyes had widened comically and she instantly knew what she had to do. She shut the door carefully behind her, and tiptoed to each of the Crow's rooms individually.

Jesper groaned and held his pillow over his head, attempting to block out the noise.

"Jes, get up, you need to see this."

For Nina, she needed a slightly stronger approach. She needed to get them up quickly, she wasn't certain when you would wake. So, the Heartrender was woken by a nice cup of water to the face.

She spluttered as she came to her senses and Inej hushed her before she could shriek in shock.

"Meet in front of Kaz's office. There's something you've got to see." She hissed.

Once Matthias and Wylan were awake and up, they met up and Inej put a finger to her lips as she opened the door.

Nina spotted you immediately and awwed breathily, Jesper and the others following her gaze before simultaneously gasping.

Nina heard your heartbeat quicken and ushered them out, your eyebrows furrowing as you woke to fragmented whispers from what seemed to be down the hallway.

You decided Kaz should sleep in so snuck out of the room and to yours, dressing before jogging down the stairs to breakfast.

When you entered, the chatter abruptly stopped and your head cocked to the side, curious as to if you were being left out of anything.

Suddenly, a snicker was heard and you snapped your eyes to Jesper, who continued to chuckle before speaking.

"Having a good time with the Boss, were we?"

You groaned audibly as you realised they must have witnessed your moment together, ran a hand over your face and sat on a chair, muttering to yourself all the while.

"Kaz will not like this..."

"Not like what?"

He sounded concerned, it flimsily masked and laughter broke out again as you blushed, embarrassed.

"It's too early for this, guys."

"Hmm, you could always take a nap in Kaz's office?" Was Nina's teasing response, no hesitation in her tone.

Kaz's face hardened into the one he used during business, and when he spoke, his voice was cold as stone, "None of you will speak of this."

"Ever." He reiterated, making sure they understood.

As soon as he left, the snickering restarted and now you too joined in, finding the soft Kaz from the evening before and early morning hours of that day so contrasting to the one you had just seen.

The Crows would consistently burst into his office in the mornings after that incident, and Kaz became more alert, although never able to stop himself from falling asleep under the sun.

Usually, he would manage and as soon as they left, he would drop the facade and his head would gradually drop toward his chest, then he would shake out his limbs in an attempt to stay conscious.

You would wake as it happened and would either call his name quietly, or prance downstairs to grab him a coffee. It would rarely be black, instead you added just a tad of milk to sweeten the liquid.

Your shared advantage with Kaz was that they did not know you fell onto the sofa together monthly, and had only caught you together a few times.

At every opportunity they had in the Slat, they would poke fun and jest jokingly about you and Kaz.

Jesper would wink at you suggestively and you'd only drop your head into the table, Inej sometimes placing her hand between before your forehead smacked down.

She teased you a lot less than the others did, so glad for Kaz after knowing of some of his hardship, but would still join in with her own little quips now and then.

Even Nina and Matthias knew not to bring up the situation in public or in the Crow Club. You could be used against Kaz, and he would never want that, believing it could be one of the only things to break him.

Almost daily, you would end up asleep, head and neck supported by a cushion on top of the table.

And almost daily, Kaz would find his heart melting at the sight of you feeling comfortable enough to sleep and be at your most vulnerable with him.

It was a form of love only you shared, and it was beautiful in its own way.

Most importantly, almost daily, Kaz found himself promising you to wake you, all while beginning the crossing of his fingers.

And ankles. Just in case.

[bopbopstyles]

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

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG | Y/N’S LINGERIE | TELL ME YOUR FAVORITE BITS OF BANTER | BLURB MASTERLIST | DRABBLE TAG

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.”

or

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.

“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.”

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.

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