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therenlover · 4 years ago

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One Last Night In Madripoor (An 18+ Helmut Zemo/Reader Oneshot)

Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?

Tags: Smut, SoftDom!Zemo, Hook Up, Semi-Public Sex, Drinking, Safe Sex, Explicit Consent, First Meeting, Wall Sex, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Swearing, Explicit Sexual Content

Word Count: 4200~

This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!

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Madripoor was a place like nothing you had ever seen.

It wasn’t that the sights were anything special. You could find seedy criminal underbellies lined with neon where the streets ran red with blood anywhere if you looked hard enough. Even the ocean view didn’t do much to set it apart from any other place visually. No, Madripoor’s scenery and architecture weren’t what kept your eyes wide with wonder whenever you found yourself wandering through the winding back-alleys without a purpose. It was the people that kept you around.

Thieves, pirates, and miscreants had been taking shelter at the docks since before anyone there could remember. It was a city borne of the underbelly of society, the people nobody sees, but you saw them. You saw them every day when you stood in the main market waiting for an easy bounty. There were faces everywhere; big and small, tall and short, scarred and flawless. No two people in the streets of Madripoor were ever exactly alike. If you needed to remember someone, their unique face was right there waiting in your mind.

After living on the island for almost 6 months, most people were already cataloged neatly in your mind as friend or foe. This man, though, he was new. He was different.

The night was still young. There was some trouble at the Princess Bar that ended with Selby dead and a few murderers loose in the streets with a price on their heads, but you steered clear. Going after the killers meant going up against hundreds if not thousands of trained bounty hunters and assassins and no amount of money was worth dying over now, not while you were so close to freedom. Instead of chasing your doom, you decided to head to your room, get dressed up, and head out to wherever the music was loudest in search of a place to forget about your problems for the night. The thudding sounds of poorly DJ-ed club remixes led you to Leonardo’s Place. That’s where you found him.

You were two drinks in and sticking close to the wall when he stumbled into your line of sight. What initially caught your eye was his dancing. He couldn’t move for shit. What kept your attention, though, was his face.

There was transience to him, like at any moment someone could bump into him and he would disappear without a trace at their touch. Despite that he was gaudy. Everything about his clothing screamed wealth and fine taste from the thread count of his obnoxious purple turtleneck to the shine on his boots. He was strange, a walking contradiction, and one who had never had the pleasure of gracing your presence or screwing you over in the past. In the simplest of terms, he intrigued you. With nothing left to lose you downed the last of your cocktail and made your way to the gap in the crowd where the stranger had staked his claim. It was game time.

“You come here alone?” You asked. Your voice was barely a whisper above the heavy thrumming of the music.

He gave you a long look up and down before answering as if he were trying to size you up. Something about having his gaze linger on your body made your heartbeat soar. “I’m not looking for company,” His accented tone was gruff but left a sliver of room for reconsideration. You took the chance. What could go wrong?

With as much tact and grace as you could muster you let yourself slip a little closer to him. “What, do I look too expensive for you?” you teased, before backing off with a grin, “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m not here for that. My job is a little more… dangerous.” As you danced, the hem of your dress rode up your thigh just enough to reveal the knife holster in your garter belt. It pleased you greatly to see this handsome stranger do a double-take; that meant he was looking at your upper thigh in the first place. “I just liked what I saw in you… do you like what you see in me?”

Somehow, your little joke had endeared him to you, however minutely. Instead of brushing you off the man paused his jerky dancing for a moment to really take you in. Then, he caved. “Would you like a drink?” He asked.

You smirked. “Who would I be if I turned down a free drink from a handsome stranger,”

He met you in the middle as he offered you his hand. “I never promised it would be free,”

So, the two of you found yourselves at the bar, bodies leaned into each other and away from the rest of the sweltering crowd as the bartender slid you your order. The stranger was drinking a brandy straight while you opted for a sidecar. It was enough alcohol that you were starting to feel pretty buzzed, but you still felt in full control of yourself. You took a long sip before speaking. “So, what should I call you?”

It took him a moment to respond but once he did, he seemed sure of himself. “You can call me Helmut, but Baron is fine as well,”

You cocked up an eyebrow. “Is that a nickname?”

“More of a title,”

He took a drink as you gawked. “Like royalty?”

“Not like. I am,”

Your cheeks flushed. The rational part of your mind was so stunned by the ease with which Helmut lied that it seemed to short circuit completely, leaving you very puzzled and more than a little intrigued. “Well, pardon me, Mr. Baron. What’s royalty like you doing in a place like this?”

“There are plenty of reasons a man like me would have business here. A woman as beautiful as you, though… not so much,” he waved his hand in loose gestures as he spoke, “Why risk your life and beauty for this? A life living in the underground where you cannot so much as dream of seeing the stars?”

You finished your drink in one large swig. It burned down your throat but you relished in the pain. “Not all of us are lucky enough to be born in a place where we can see the stars. Funny enough, though, I’m just about to get out,”

“Is that right?”

“I finally saved up enough money from small jobs to buy my way out from under the Power Broker’s thumb,” Something about the way Helmut smiled at you made you feel safe. It was like you could tell him your worst, darkest secrets and not feel an ounce of fear or guilt. “I’m nothing special here, a small-time bounty hunter, and I kept it that way for a reason. I’m not valuable and I don’t know much. If I just pay my dues and keep the money coming until I can get their claws out of my back, I should be free to leave with a freighter tomorrow morning,”

Helmut was quick to respond. “Ah, travel by freighter. It’s terribly dangerous to be a stowaway, you know? Impossible to predict quite what the seas will be like,”

“Well, that’s just a risk I’ll have to take to get out of here and stop… what was it that you said I was doing? Risking my life and beauty?”

The two of you chuckled as Helmut took one last drink to empty his glass. Then, the conversation stilled. Around you people were alive, gyrating to the music as their pulses thumped to the beat, but it was like they weren’t even there. Instead, your whole being was focused on the strange man in front of you who had stolen away your sensibilities with his cool tone and thick accent. He made you feel alive. No, more than alive. Every color was brighter, every sound was sharper, every sip of your drink was crisper. He was a once-in-a-lifetime man, and this was a once-in-a-lifetime night. Oh, to hell with it!

“I like you, Baron,” you purred, pressing yourself close to him. His breath hitched the moment you touched him. He acted as if it had been a very long time since he was last touched like that. “And I think you like me too. In fact, I think you like me enough that we should take this conversation somewhere a little more private. What do you say?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, his gloved hand made its way around your wrist, and in a moment’s time, he was pulling you across the crowded dance floor towards a small, secluded hallway. You assumed that meant yes.

The instant you made it to the shelter of the shadows Helmut was on you like a man starved. One of his hands was quick to explore the skin just above the hem of your dress as the other pressed against the wall, caging you in and holding you as a more than willing hostage to his affections. He didn’t kiss your face, and you weren’t complaining about that, but he did put his mouth to good use sucking a dark bruise into your collarbone. His ministrations only stopped when a high, keening sound escaped your lips.

“You like that, don’t you, meine kleine schlampe?” he growled through gritted teeth. Something about his tone turned your already weak legs to jelly. The second you went limp in his grip, though, he pulled back. Straightening himself out, he offered you a steadying arm. You took it without hesitation. “I’m terribly sorry to be so rude. I assure you that I am not usually the type of man to hook up with someone on a whim, I’ve simply been… indisposed for many years and haven’t had many opportunities for pleasure, especially not with a woman as beautiful as you,”

His compliment was enough to have you blushing like a schoolgirl. You had killed more people than you could reasonably count, and probably fucked even more, but something about the way Helmut looked and sounded and acted made you feel almost innocent to his advances. He was a drug and you needed to get your fix before he disappeared forever.

“Does that mean you think I’m special?” You asked, all doe eyes with an innocent smile. Helmut ate it right up.

“Yes, schatzi. Very special,”

You hitched a leg up, letting your heel dig into his expensive dress pants and drag him closer to you once again. “First your little slut and now your little treasure? Which one is it, Helmut?”

“And so smart,”

“Move, Baron!”

At your insistence, Helmut was on you once again, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down your neck as he fiddled with his gloves, yanking them off and shoving them in his back pocket before he continued. “So demanding,” he chided, and yet he continued to lavish you with affection, his hand climbing higher and higher up your thigh. Your back was pressed flush to the wall now, and you were painfully aware of just how warm Helmut was. He smelled like a rich man’s cologne and yet his skin tasted of cheap soap when you leaned in to give him a bruise of his own.

“You love it,” you replied. He let out a husky laugh.

“I suppose I do,” he chuckled, and then his fingers brushed over your core. Your knees buckled. Helmut kept you upright with his body as he continued to taunt you through your underwear, but he seemed more confident now, almost cocky. “My needy schatzi, have you no patience?”

Your response was breathless; a confession.

“Not with you,”

Something about your words lit a fire in Helmut’s eyes. In an instant he had your leg hiked up while he ground his hardened length against your clothed wetness. Your mind went blank. He felt big. A mindless whimper fell from your lips.

“How do you want me?” Helmut asked. As he spoke he ran a light finger down your elevated thigh. You offered up another whimper. “I’ll need you to use your words and tell me what you want or I can’t give it to you,” His tone had you wet enough that you worried you were dripping.

With a gulp, you managed to fumble out the words. “I’ll blow you first if you promise to fuck me,”

That had him grinning like a wolf. “Perhaps you are my little schlampe, so eager to get down on your knees for me…” And you were. Even on shaky legs, you found yourself happily falling to your knees as the Baron fumbled with his fly. It was only then that you found yourself gazing down the hall towards the cacophony of lights and sounds and people maybe 20 feet away from your hiding place in the shadows. As if he could sense your discomfort, Helmut paused. “Are you alright?”

You nodded quickly. “I just forgot we were out in the open for a second,”

“Do you want to stop? If the location is the problem, I would gladly pause so we can find a new hideaway,” he stopped short, looking down and meeting your heavily lidded gaze, “or perhaps the idea of putting on a show excites you?” Your heart jumped out of your chest. Helmut noticed. “Well, if my little schlampe is so keen on putting on a show, she should get a move on,”

That was your cue to get to work. In a swift motion, you finished unzipping his fly and shifted his boxers, letting his lovely cock spring free. It was a pleasant penis and far as they went, average in length but thick with a leaking purple tip at half-mast. Just looking at it made you clamp your legs together.

Slowly, you gave a tentative lick up the underside of his length. He felt heavy on your tongue in the best of ways. Helmut jerked upward, a man possessed. You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s been a long time, huh?”

“Less talking, more working little schlam-” you cut Helmut off quickly by taking most of his length into his mouth. That seemed to shut him up. His wolf-like grin had dissolved into a slack-jawed mess the second you started to suck him off. Oh, this was going to be fun.

For the most part, the Baron let you set the pace, bobbing your head and taking as much of his length as you comfortably could, but after a short while his hands were buried in your hair as he fought the urge to buck into your throat, hard. With a particularly rough snap of his hips, Helmut pulled away.

“You are an angel from heaven, schatzi,” he groaned, pulling himself slowly from your mouth as you got your first good deep breath in a while, “but a deal is a deal, and it wouldn’t be quite fair if I got to have all the fun, now would it?” Your breath hitched in your throat. Finally time for the main event.

Helmut was surprisingly gentle with you as he offered you a hand and helped you back up, only pausing to wipe a line of dribble off your chin with his thumb. With anyone else, it would have felt wholly humiliating but with Helmut… well, it did things to you you would rather not admit. You quirked up an eyebrow, though, when he got on his knees in turn, mirroring your past position. “What are you doing, Baron?”

“I simply assumed my sweet schatzi would enjoy a reward for taking my cock so well,” his words had you biting your lip as your cheeks flushed, “now be a good girl and take what I give you. I want to hear those pretty noises you made earlier,” With that, his face disappeared under your skirt. He pulled down your panties and… snickered?

“What now?” you groaned, squirming as his hot breath hit your exposed nub.

“You’re sopping wet,” he replied. Out of habit, you moved to shut your legs but found Helmut’s large hand was holding them open. “I do enjoy being sandwiched between your thighs, but you shouldn’t hide yourself from me. Take your pleasure. You’ve earned it,” That was when he began his assault on your folds.

You had been with plenty of partners over the years, all with varying proficiencies when it came to giving pleasure, but no one had ever made you feel quite as good as Helmut did while you gripped his hair and rode his face with reckless abandon. He always hit just the right spot, alternating between sucking on your sensitive clit and running his rough tongue in sloppy circles against it. In no time flat your pleasure was building toward’s its peak as your knees trembled.

“Helmut,” you squeaked, “Helmut I’m gonna cuuuUUOH!”

You were suddenly thrown over the edge of pleasure as the Baron worked you open with his fingers, pressing that spot inside of you just right. It was a revelation. Nothing would ever compare to him and you hadn’t even fucked yet. Once you had regained some semblance of stability he emerged from his place between your thighs, face slick with your juices, wearing the expression of a cat that got the cream.

“You make such lovely sounds for me, schatzi,” Helmut groaned, rising from his place at your feet and reaching into his pocket. While he fumbled for a condom you took the time to actually remove your panties, lifting one shaky leg at a time before balling them up and tossing them on the ground. You could grab them later. Or not! In all honesty, your ruined undies were the last thing on your mind as your watched Helmut roll the condom onto his proud cock, pumping himself a few times. “Now, are you sure you want this?”

You had never felt more sober in your whole life despite the drinks you’d downed earlier.

“God, yes,”

“Wonderful,”

He caged you into his body once again, lining himself up on your slick folds, and then with a pronounced bite against your collarbone, he was entering you. It wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, you just felt full, like a missing piece of your body had been completed. For the first few thrusts, you were too blissed out to really take note of anything around you, but once you tuned back into the world of the living you realized Helmut was talking. Well, babbling was more like it. He seemed to simply be speaking his stream of consciousness into your ear as he pistoned in and out of you like a madman. There was a jilted rhythm to it, but the abnormality kept you on your toes.

“I won’t be letting you go any time soon, schatzi, and definitely not on some dank freighter like a rat from the gutters. No, you will travel with me. Once I help my friends and slip away from the front lines I can take you anywhere your little heart desires. Paris, Vienna, Australia… Mein Gott, what a sweet cunt,”

Any sane woman, after hearing his sex-drunken musings, would have run. They would have heard the wild ramblings of a madman and left after their little fling was done to never see him again. It was only rational. He didn’t even know your real name. Sane women didn’t run away with strangers claiming to be barons they hooked up with in a seedy club selling stolen Van Goghs in a hub of the criminal underworld.

The only thing was, though, that you weren’t a sane woman.

You were a killer, a child left in the streets to live or die who had scraped themselves together and dragged themselves towards life. So what if the idea of some rich mysterious benefactor with a good dick coming in to save the day sounded fantastic? It was fantastic. Like your own personal version of Pretty Woman. Even if he wasn’t as rich as he claimed to be, being poor and getting dicked down by him was better than being poor and alone.

For just a moment, and with no regrets, you let yourself get lost in the fantasy and just let go.

It was as if Helmut could sense a difference.

“Are you close, little schlampe?” He gasped, letting his thrusts take on a faster staccato rhythm.

You could do little more than moan and nod as he pounded you into the wall. That seemed to be enough for him to get the message, though.

“What a good girl,” he purred. His mouth was so close to your ear, his hot breath tickling the sensitive flesh with each heaving breath he took. As he chased his own climax, he brought a hand between your bodies and rubbed tight, wet circles around your clit. It was already sensitive, your body was only barely recovering from your first orgasm, and yet something about the overstimulation was thrilling, like racing towards an impossible dream. With a shout, you came for the second time, melting into Baron Helmut’s arms as he quickly followed.

The two of you stayed there, slumped against the cool wall and still connected by your dripping sexes, for a few moments, breathing heavy. Surprisingly, you were the first to speak.

“Wow,” you breathed, letting a soft laugh escape your lips.

Helmut returned the sentiment. “You were wonderful,” In a strange moment of intimacy, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, but then he pulled out, tying off the full condom and tossing it to the ground as he tucked himself back into his boxers and zipped up his fly.

“Are you just gonna leave that there?” you made a gesture towards his litter.

“They have janitors,”

A burbling laugh escaped from your lips. “That they do,”

Back in the main room of the party, the crowd had only grown larger as the night progressed. Nobody had seen you, nor had they noticed your cries as they danced and drank and made merry under the neon lights. You were, for all intents and purposes, invisible at Helmut’s side. Within and without. There was something exhilarating about knowing he was the only one that truly saw you in a room packed with hundreds. It was like something out of a twisted fairytale.

“So…” you broached the subject gently while you pulled down your dress to protect your modesty, “Did you mean what you said back there about Paris and Vienna, or…”

“Oh, you heard that?”

You snickered. “It was pretty hard not to with you breathing in my ear,”

“I apologize,” he leaned against the wall beside you, shoulder to shoulder in the darkness, “but yes, I meant what I said. I-”

Suddenly, from down the hall, a booming voice interrupted your moment.

“There you are!”

“Goddamnit, Zemo, I thought we told you to stay low not hire an escort,”

There, at the mouth of the hallway, stood two massive men. They were obviously displeased, and though their faces were obscured by the lights you could tell you weren’t the one they were after.

They called him Zemo… where had you heard that name before?

Helmut stepped away from the wall with a shrug. “At least I didn’t cause a scene by forgetting to put my phone on silent,”

The larger of the two men stayed where he was, while the other walked to meet the Baron in the middle.

“I swear to God, man, you’ve gotten ten times more insufferable since I learned you were rich.

The Baron shrugged. “It comes with the territory,”

“But you don’t have to be such a jackass about it,”

You felt it was a good time to chime in.

“Thank you so much for that, Helmut, but I think I should give you guys some privacy,” you said, straightening out your dress and walking deeper into the hallway. There had to be an exit somewhere…

“Wait!” When you turned, you found Helmut rushing to meet you. The men in the background looked shocked and almost smug. “Save your money. Meet me out at the airstrip tomorrow afternoon if you feel like seeing me again. If not, know that the Power Broker doesn’t let go of assets cheap, and you just slept with a man with a million dollar bounty, so buying your freedom isn’t an option. If you want to go without me, you’ll have to hitch a ride on a cargo ship but not as a stowaway. Working for your keep is the best way to stay under the radar. Nobody can touch you once you’r-”

You cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips. “I’ll see you at your private jet, Baron,”

He smirked. “So you will,” With as much gusto as a man could muster, he returned to his companions but not before offering one last goodbye. “Farewell, schatzi, until tomorrow,”

As you leaned up against the wall once more, you watched them go with a twinkle in your eye.

“Who was that?”

“None of your business, James,”

“Guys, what the hell did I just step on?”

“I believe that was my used rubber,”

“ZEMO!”

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a/n: I hope you enjoyed the filth! I haven’t written for Zemo before, even though I’ve loved him for years, but he’s definitely going into my main rotation now. If you have any ideas, send them my way! I’d love to fill the void, because there just aren’t very many Zemo x reader fics out there. If you enjoyed this, maybe reblog or leave a comment! I’d love to hear your thoughts. Thanks again!

Please do not post my works to any other sites, thanks! <3

#oh my god this is filth #Would you believe I wrote my first smut like a week ago?#zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #marvel #falcon and winter solider series #fatws #bucky barnes #sam wilson #smut #marvel fanfiction

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comfytea · 2 years ago

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Discord Emojis Tutorial — Canva.

This was requested in by someone in my resources server that you can join by clicking here! I’m going to keep this as simple as possible as well as try to make it so that people using the free version of Canva can utilize this tutorial too!

Ex. emojis/

Step 1. Open Canva, this will work on the desktop app version or the website. I prefer the website just because that is how I’ve always used it.

Step 2. Log in if you already have an account, otherwise sign up for free.

Step 3. Click “create a design” in the top right corner.

Step 4. In the drop down menu provided, choose the “logo” 500x500px option.

Step 5. Click the white box/page to change the background color. The color of this won’t matter, but will ensure that any white colors you would like to use in your emojis will show up rather than getting removed when you make it transparent. I chose a tan color, as that is not a color I tend to use when making emojis.

Step 6. It should look like this now! From here it’s pretty easy.

Step 7. Now, click the “Elements” option on the left side of your page & type what kind of emoji you want in the search bar. I typed “teacup.” The kind of image you want to pick out will look like a simple outline. I will circle the images that would be ideal to use! I chose the free image, and if you scroll there are many more like that one if you don’t have Canva Pro. When you’re satisfied with something, click on it to add it to your page.

Step 8. Resize the image to fit within the space of the box. Leave a little space on the left side. To ensure that these emojis work within the light and dark version of discord, we will need to add a shadow. More on that in the next step. It should look like this now.

Step 9. Right click the image, then copy and paste to make a duplicate. Place it a little above the first image, sort of moving your cursor just a little left and up so that it’s on top of the old image, enough for the black to show but not overpower it. I find that it’s easier to complete this step when I zoom in. This is ultimately how you will give it a “shadow” effect. Change the color of the new image to whatever you would like! I find that I enjoy the black and white together, as Belle and I love to change the colors of our icons/server nicknames often and this way the emojis will always match!

Step 10. Click on anywhere outside of both images, hold and drag so that you select both images at the same time. Click “Group” on the top right corner. This will turn your two images into one whole image, and you can resize once more so that the whole emoji is as big as it can be. You should have something like this.

And that’s it! For Canva Pro users, click “Share” and then check the box that says “Transparent background.” This image is ready to be uploaded to discord as an emoji. For non-Canva Pro users, download this image and then visit this website to remove the background and make it transparent. It should work this way, but if anyone experiences any technical difficulties, feel free to let me know! I’ll help you out however I can.

#tutorials #tutorial #canva tutorial #rph #rpc #rpt #made by comfytea.

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erwinsvow · 4 years ago

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𝐚𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

note: part two to the college headcanons! part one can be found here! i had a lot of fun writing these and i hope everyone enjoys them :) teacher/student dynamic warning for zeke and hange's, and i guess bullying for annie's :/

𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐝

the very definition of kind-hearted frat boy who doesn’t fit the stereotype he’s been assigned at all

starts off with accounting before realizing he hates math, moves into business management and marketing

the linkedin profile is absolutely popping, 500+ connections and details about every club and organization he’s ever been a part of

the friend that helps everyone find internships and fixes their resumes while offering helpful advice and not being condescending… anyways so that’s how you meet porco

he works at the career center 100% and does various coaching/prep help, and you, pieck’s friend, are in desperate need of an internship

so you’re complaining to your friend as usual, when she tells you to stop by the building and ask for a “pock”

so you do just that, walking in and asking for “pock” and porco is a little stunned by this pretty stranger calling him by a nickname reserved for his close friends, and even then he just barely tolerates it

but he doesn’t want to correct you, especially since you’re being so sweet and he can tell you need some help

so a meeting at the career center slowly turns into facetime calls to review applications and last-minute edits, stopping by your dorm to help you fill out paperwork and walking together to mail it out

i have a feeling porco doesn’t wanna be too forward, and he thinks he’s being very aloof and casual, when he really just seems oblivious

and you cannot tell for the life of you if he likes you or he’s just being friendly since you’re close with pieck

finally after you land the internship and won't have your normal excuse to spend time with him, you get the guts you've been searching for

you tell him about the position later in the day, stopping by the center for hopefully the last time

"by the way, my number's on my resume if you're ever gonna ask me out."

leaves pocky-boy flustered and red and scrambling to ask you out, and you have been happily dating since

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

oh boy

conny is a very typical college kid in the sense that he will sleep through every 8 am class he has, blow off class to go wait in line for the nacho bar, and has adopted the mantra ‘c’s get degrees’

but he is an extremely lovable education major with a focus in history

rarely seen without his shadow sasha, but now that she started dating niccolo, she thinks that conny could use a relationship too, and that it might do him some good to be with a funny, down-to-earth person

thus begins the most grueling two weeks for every girl on campus, as sasha hunts down girls that she thinks would be a good match for her best friend

this includes airdropping a photo of conny to the lecture hall with the caption “would you date this man? serious inquiries only”

creates a fake tinder complete with a google form to narrow down the options

however, none of this is necessary because sasha bumps into you in the smoothie line and causes your triple berry blend to go flying

she helps you clean up and idle conversation leads to you talking about dates and so forth

“well, i’d love to set you up with my best friend? how do you feel about a blind date?”

yes, conny met you, the love of his life, on a blind date set up by sasha with a stranger

it’s one of those funny stories that people don’t believe when you tell them, because how ridiculous is that, but you both think it’s perfect since you get along so well and it made all the waiting worth it

bonus: double dates with sasha and niccolo! fondue night at their apartment, going to the arcade and having to lug up sasha and her food baby while niccolo parks the car, just overall a grand time :)

𝐳𝐞𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

zeke yeager, ph.d. started his new job at university with one rule in mind: absolutely no illicit affairs

he also coaches the club baseball team, because why not get involved on your campus

he really believes that he’s gonna stick with it too, despite the overwhelming number of students who come to his office hours with questions that his less handsome teaching assistants could answer

but no, he doesn’t want to earn a reputation as that professor, and so he heads into the new semester with absolutely no lingering thoughts of an exciting little dalliance to get him through the monotonous days

he knows his huge lecture classes would always come with a few pretty students, but it’s the smaller, upper-level psych class he’s teaching when he meets you for the first time

zeke has you all figured out, or so he thinks. sitting in the front row, raising your hand for questions he wasn’t expecting anyone to actually have an answer to, neatly handwritten notes in a color-coded notebook. he wouldn’t peg you for the type to jump and take the risk by starting a relationship with a professor.

but he soon realizes that he didn’t have you as figured out as he thought he did.

you avoid the gaggle of freshmen during office hours by scheduling meetings instead, sometimes right before class, coming to him with two cups of coffee and a wide smile that actually had him fooled into thinking you were here for academic reasons

this facade quickly fades though, because after a semester of interactions with you and getting more and more comfortable with each other, to the point where coffee orders are memorized and it’s zeke rather than professor yeager, you’ve had just about enough

he knows he’s fucked when you come visit him at practice for the baseball team, bringing him a drink and engaging in conversation while the players watch their coach flirt with you

he’s especially fucked when he realizes he’s looking forward to practice just because there’s a chance you’ll stop by on your way to your next class

you submit your final paper early, nearly a week before it’s due and of course the first in the class to do so, and waltz into his office the next day with another steaming cup of his favorite drink

“you submitted your paper pretty early, you know.”

“i know. i also know that it means i’m not your student anymore, so if you were going to make a move, now’s the time.”

no, he definitely had underestimated how much he knew about you.

𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐚 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

mikasa is a forensic sciences major and is still debating on the minor- she’s torn between criminal justice or history like armin.

she loves her major classes, but she just wants something else interesting to look forward to as well, so armin suggests sitting in on a couple classes early in the semester and getting a taste for it.

so you don’t really think twice when she claims the empty seat next to you on the first day of classes, smiling politely and paying attention to the professor. you do notice, however, that she’s not writing anything down or looking at the syllabus, leading you to strike a conversation on why that is.

she explains herself and then before you even know it, the lecture ends and you spent the last forty minutes talking to mikasa about anything and everything.

she’s sitting in on another class tomorrow, and absent mindedly invites you to come along, to which you agree all too quickly, because why wouldn’t you

numbers are exchanged, times are fixed, and mikasa leaves wondering why she’s so excited at the idea of sitting with you in class again.

you two hate the history class she had chosen, with the professor droning on and on and you being focused entirely on the conversation you’re having with mikasa

until the professor kicks the two of you out for not shutting up, that is

you’re both laughing hysterically once you reach the hallway

“i’m gonna have to discourage you from doing that history minor if that’s what all the classes are like.”

“well, i have to do criminal justice so we can have that class together, anyways.”

𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭

true to form, annie goes into one of the most difficult majors: cheg. definitely flies through intro courses with straight As and minimal effort, but that’s also mostly because all she and bertholdt do is study

reiner tries his hardest to get her to go to a party every once in a while, but usually to no avail because she always has an exam to study for

you’re a tutor, and honestly, you’d say you were pretty good at your job. you can answer questions and explain reasonings fairly well to confused students. but when annie comes to your office hours with some complicated problems and she’s asking for explanations that you just don’t have, you literally feel your face burn with heat for the entirety of the time she’s there

long story short, your first encounter is embarrassing, to say the least. you’re stumbling over words as you try to look through your old notes and piece together an answer for annie, who you cannot even look in the eyes.

anyways, she leaves eventually and you want a hole to open in the ground and swallow you up, but at least she won’t be back next week, right?

wrong.

miss leonhart doesn’t know how to express her feelings any better than you, so her way of flirting is spending time with you in the tutor center as you fail to answer her questions time and time again

you want to scream at her to stop coming because she and you both know you’re not helping either of you with this

but also you really don’t want her to stop coming because you don’t have any other ways to see her outside of class

both of you reach your wit’s end on the same day, her coming to you with the absolute easiest problems she could find in the textbook, and you with every intention of asking her out to dinner

she opens her book, and you reach and close it quickly

“unless this is the only way you know how to flirt, something has to change now.”

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐳𝐨𝐞

dr. zoë teaches, just, way too many classes

we’re talking multiple chemistry labs and upper-level research courses as well

you’re just a ph.d. student doing rotations as per usual, and you’ve heard the comments from students senior to you about dr. zoë, who makes every student in rotation say hange instead of the formal way you’re used to

you’ve heard everything from crazy to genius and everything in between

what you weren’t expecting was… so good looking, and young? and comforting? and talking about all the things that you didn’t have the guts to bring up with other people, like how you always feel a little left out in the field and that you think no one cares about your research interests that much—a lot of stuff that you find yourself pouring out to hange on your very first day in the lab

you’re wondering why it’s so easy to talk to them, and why none of the other rotations ever felt this comfortable

and then you realize you’re spilling your guts to someone who probably doesn’t even care, and has way more to deal with on their plate than a ph.d. student with imposter syndrome

so you’re apologizing right after you’ve finished, when you’re met with the warmest look and a reassuring hand on your shoulder

it’s so easy to fall after that, with weekly meetings and regular check-ins, and you know it’s wrong to have this strange crush on your superior, but hange really feels like the one person you can count on here

you hide the crush in favor of getting the mentorship you desperately think you need, but it’s not long until you’re onto the next rotation and the next lab’s work is even closer to the stuff you love

you hate the way you feel, that you’re not gonna have any reason to keep in touch and you never even got to explain how you feel about them—and that you didn’t even get to experience hange’s energy because she was always listening and helping you out

it’s not until you get a text the night before your first day in the new lab from hange, filled with reassuring words and asking for a coffee date later in the week to talk about how it goes, that you realize just how well hange understood you

𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

last but not least, miss pieck is double majoring in french and public health

absolutely obsessed with her majors and loves the subjects, but works herself to death to keep up with it all

you don’t even realize that the pretty, studious girl you’re seeing in the library all the time is the same girl you spot with some of your friends from class

pieck is as oblivious as they come. you invite her on study dates after you two are introduced by reiner, invite her to get coffee after a particularly late night of studying, pretty much start spending most of your days together

you can’t help but be disappointed that pieck doesn’t see you in that way, because you’ve slowly been falling head over heels, but you accept that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, and you still love the friendship you two have

it takes a while for things to click for pieck, but they do right as the semester eases up

once exams are over, you two decide to go to these famous parties porco and reiner never stop talking about

it’s not the usual scene you’re comfortable with, but what’s wrong with letting loose a little, especially after midterms? no harm in having fun, right?

wrong again! you definitely get plastered way too quickly, and eventually pieck takes you to a room to settle down

drunk confessions of love aren’t usually the way to go, but you can’t help but reveal everything you’ve been feeling for the last few months when pieck is taking care of you in your current state

you definitely wake up hungover and ignorant to last night’s shenanigans, but you’re in your dorm, with a bottle of water and ibuprofen on the nightstand, phone plugged in and shoes off

pieck comes back with breakfast, coffee and your favorite pastries, and checks up on you

“so.. about last night..”

“i’m so sorry, did i throw up on you?”

“no, but you did say you were in love with me. was that just a drunk thing, or is it a sober thing too? because i think i’m in love with you too.”

320 notes · View notes

haaarry · 5 years ago

Text

Y/N is a virgin, and Harry shows her the ropes.

Summary: Harry gives Y/N her first kiss, and it’s smooth sailing from then on -- until it isn’t.

A/N: (but don’t worry, things get resolved)

Word Count: 13.4k

Y/N is nervous for tonight.

Every Saturday night, Y/N and her group of friends have a small get-together, usually anywhere between ten to fifteen people, but lately, her friend group has grown, so now it’s about twenty people. They all alternate between whose chance it is to host the small party, and now the saber has been handed off to Y/N. Her apartment is on the smaller side (it was all she could afford at the time after college graduation, but she plans on moving once she gets a raise at the hospital where she works) so she’s been wracking her brain on how to rearrange her furniture for optimum social space. She bites her lip in concentration, examining her living area and kitchen to make sure everything is in the right spot.

Soon enough, knock after knock is heard at her door, and her friends come flooding into her home. She’s happy now, feeling at ease when everyone tells her how cute her apartment is, and physically feels the tension in her shoulders dissolve when her close friend Harry gives her a peck on the cheek.

“How’re you doing?” He whispers in her ear, knowing she tends to get anxious when all eyes are on her.

“I’m doing okay,” she smiles at him. “Thanks for buying the pizza for tonight. I swear I’ll pay you back-“

“Nooope,” he says funnily. “I already told you that you never have to pay me back — for anything.”

“But you got like six pizzas! That’s like $60!”

“S’fine, love.” He kisses her cheek once more, and if he’s not mistaken, he thinks he can feel a warmth radiate off her face. She melts (internally of course — she could never let him know about the major crush she has on him) and leans into his body as they stand in the kitchen, watching everyone else engage in a game of beer pong using Y/N’s coffee table.

“Mind if I steal her away?” Their friend Wilma asks Harry, already obtaining a firm grip on Y/N’s forearm.

“Better not get my girl into any trouble,” Harry jokes with his eyebrows bunched and a finger pointing her way.

Y/N swoons when she hears Harry call her his girl; she knows he’s only joking, but it still means a lot to her.

Once away from the rowdy crowd — now in Y/N’s bedroom — Wilma places both hands on Y/N’s shoulders, shaking her a bit. “Okay, spill!”

“What do you mean?” Y/N begins to grow nervous, wondering if she’s going to interrogate her about her feelings for Harry. Despite how close her and Wilma are, she’s never told her about her crush on Harry. She’s never told anyone.

“Hello! Your date with the guy from the bar last night! I was waiting all night for you to call me and gush, and you didn’t! Very rude of you, missy.”

“Oh,” Y/N surprisingly chuckles. “Um, it was fine? He’s a nice guy-“

“Yeah, yeah. But did you two. . .” she goes through the motions of heterosexual sex with her hands, “eh?”

Y/N can feel the heat in her face, knowing she must look flustered right now. “No.”

“What?! Why? He’s cute!”

So wrapped up in their conversation, they don’t hear the footsteps coming down the hall. It’s Harry, in search for the bathroom (not really searching, though, considering he’s been to Y/N’s apartment plenty of times) which is right next to Y/N’s bedroom. He hears voices and freezes, leaning against the door to see it’s Y/N and Wilma. He takes the time to admire how Y/N looks tonight: her hair in a loose, high ponytail, her face makeup free, looking soft and glow-y, and her simple t-shirt and jean shorts. Harry hums contently to himself, crossing his arms while still staring and listening in on their conversation (which he knows is wrong to eavesdrop, but he’s not really listening to their conversation — moreso just staring at Y/N — until he hears something that catches his attention).

“Wilms,” Y/N uses the nickname she’s given her friend, “you know I’m not the type to do that on the first date. I haven’t even. . .” Y/N begins to feel embarrassed of what she’s about to say, “. . .kissed anyone.”

Harry’s eyes bulge out of his head, standing up straight and stepping closer to the bedroom to see if he heard her right.

“What?!” Wilma repeats from before. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” She pulls her friend in for a hug. “I’ll give you your first kiss right now to end your suffering if you want.”

Y/N giggles into her friend’s hair before pulling away. “You’re so kind.”

“But seriously — how is that possible? How has no one kissed this face?” Wilma scrunches Y/N’s face between her hands, massaging her cheeks.

“Dunno,” Y/N answers shyly. “S’not like the opportunity hasn’t presented itself. I just didn’t want to kiss any of those people, I guess.” She looks down at her shoes and wiggles her toes, watching it move beneath the fabric of her Vans. “I want my first kiss to be special.”

Wilma coos, placing her hand over her heart. “You’re so cute. Now I feel bad for asking if you fucked every guy you’ve ever been on a date with.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear, “I know you were just curious, considering how much sex you have.”

“I’m a very horny person! I need my needs taken care of! And I’m not really big on masturbation. . .wait, please tell me you at least masturbate.”

Harry feels his cock bloat up a tad when Y/N’s reply rings in his ears.

“Yeah, I do.”

He can see Y/N’s flustered appearance, thinking she looks downright adorable. His eyes hood as he stares at her some more and almost doesn’t have enough time to sneak into the bathroom when the two girls make their way back to the party.

Never been fucked? Harry thinks to himself. And not even a kiss? He gives his semi-hard cock a squeeze over his pants. We’ll have to change that.

///

When the night sky turns from navy to black, the party comes to an end, and everyone thanks Y/N for a fun time on their way out. Y/N’s almost certain that everybody has left until she turns around to see Harry loitering around her living room.

“Can I stay back for a bit longer?”

Y/N feels her pulse quicken and nods with a fast bob to her head.

He walks over to her and hugs her tightly, simultaneously peppering kisses to her temple. Harry’s the most affectionate out of Y/N’s friends, she’s come to realize. “You were a phenomenal host tonight. Good job on your first time.”

The words first time echo in Y/N’s brain, making her feel dizzy.

“Thanks,” she gushes. “Even though I really didn’t do much. I just supplied the place for young people to get drunk and eat.”

Harry breathlessly laughs before looping his fingers around hers. “Come on, lemme help you clean up. Our drunk friends are horrible at picking up after themselves, aren’t they?”

Y/N looks around her small apartment, noticing paper plates and solo cups scattered about. She nods with a giggle, fetching a trash bag from the kitchen and beginning to fill it with garage.

“I’ll grab everything — you just hold the bag, ‘kay?” His smile is contagious, and Y/N does as told. One of the biggest reasons she developed a crush on him in the first place is his chivalry. He’s always so nice and kind, offering to help whenever he can, and Y/N thinks it’s wonderful. Not too many guys would stay back to help clean up after a party, let alone clean by himself while the host simply holds the garbage bag.

“Thanks for helping, Harry,” she says once the apartment returns to its tip-top shape. “You didn’t have to.”

“Nonsense,” he grabs the bag from her and ties it in a knot before placing it by the trash can. “I know you’d do the same for me. And it’s a plus to get to hang out with you for a bit longer.”

Y/N swears her heart does flips behind her rib cage.

“Why’re you so sweet to me?” She asks without looking at him, and instead counts the tile squares on her kitchen floor.

He answers quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be sweet to you?” Y/N shrugs her shoulders, feeling vulnerable after asking the question. “What’re your plans for the rest of the night?” He hopes she’ll say she’s planning on staying in so he can add himself to the equation for a movie night or something. Yes, he also plans on giving her her first kiss tonight, but he also genuinely loves her company. He’s adored her for as long as they’ve been friends, he reckons, and he just wants to be close to her; and if he gets to kiss her pretty lips tonight as well, then that’s just a bonus.

“This was my plan,” she refers to the party that just took place, causing both of them to laugh.

“So, you’re just, like, gonna go to bed, then?”

“Not right away,” she smiles awkwardly. “I’m not tired yet,” she yawns despite her words, stretching as well, and her abdomen comes into view. “Or I guess not that tired.”

Harry tears his eyes away from her soft tummy. “Ya wanna watch a movie? Or play a game?” His heart beats fast in his chest when he asks the questions, like his body knows he’s that much closer to spending the night with her — that much closer to possibly giving her her first kiss.

“What kind of game?” She inquires.

Harry grabs her wrist and leads them to the couch. He adjusts her hands so they’re face up and hovers his above hers.

“You want to play that hand-slapping game? The ones kids play?” She giggles.

“S’not only for kids,” he pouts. “It’s fun. Come on.”

Y/N surprises him by slapping the tops of his hands quickly, not expecting her to start already.

“I didn’t say start!” He laughs kiddishly, his hands trembling to catch her off guard, making her think he’s going to slap her hands back.

“You snooze, you lose!”

A warmth fills Harry’s heart as he plays this childish game with this phenomenal girl he likes, appreciating her face as she concentrates on getting him back, or the way her eyes get a bit smaller when she laughs. He doesn’t even realize his mouth is speaking words until he’s already said them.

“Can I kiss you?”

Y/N’s hands freeze, eyes zooming up to Harry’s because she’s certain she didn’t hear him right. She always thought she wasn’t Harry’s type (she’s seen who he goes out with, and she’s on the far end of that spectrum) but now she’s having second thoughts.

“W-What?” She asks softly.

Harry’s cheek glow pink, exposing how nervous he is. “I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that.” His eyes squeeze shut. “It’s just. . .I overheard you tell Wilma that you haven’t had your first kiss yet, and. . .oh, God, I sound so stupid.” His palm flies up to slap his forehead in annoyance. “I thought I could give it to you, if you wanted me to.”

Y/N doesn’t know what to say; well, yes she does. She wants to scream YES YES YES! but she feels stuck in her decision. Her feelings for Harry are so strong, she worries that they’ll grow even more after their kiss and fester deep inside her, not able to do anything with them because he most likely won’t want a relationship, she thinks. She stays silent for a while, putting Harry on edge.

“I know it was stupid,” he attempts to sweep his offer under the rug. “I’m sorry. Just forget it-“

“No!” Now it’s Y/N’s turn to blurt things out. “No, um. . .I think I’d like that.”

A small smirk crosses Harry’s features. He gets closer to her on the couch and slings his arm around the back of it. “You think?”

Y/N swears this is the millionth time she’s blushed tonight and covers her face with her hands as she processes what’s about to happen. “Yeah! I think it’ll be nice.”

Harry leans closer. “Just nice?”

“Harry,” Y/N whines, feeling dizzy being so close to him, about to embark on something intimate. “Stop making me nervous.”

“Why’m I making you nervous? I just wanna kiss you.”

“I’ve never done anything like that before,” she reminds him. “I don’t know how to act, especially if it’s gonna be with you.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asks with an arch to his brow, though a smile on his lips. “You think I’m cute or something?” Her wandering eyes give her away. “And I kiss you all the time anyway, don’t I? Except it’ll be on your lips this time instead of your cheek.”

Y/N’s palms press against her cheeks, squishing her lips between them. “I’m nervous.”

Harry swears if she gets any cuter, he’ll explode. “That’s okay,” he assures her, placing his large hand on her bare knee. “Firsts can be scary.”

“M’not scared to kiss you, I want to do it. I just. . .oh, I don’t want to say it.”

“Well, now you have to tell me.”

“Uh-uh, it’s embarrassing,” she frowns.

“What is?” His index and thumb grab her chin to make her look at him, and she feels her skin heat, likes it’s been set on fire.

She contemplates telling him about her crush on him, but she’s afraid that’ll cause him to retract his offer, out of fear of leading her on since she thinks he doesn’t like her, and she doesn’t want that.

“Nothing,” she grabs his wrist and pulls his hand away from her chin. “I want to kiss you now.”

Harry’s emerald eyes beam with joy. “Yeah? You sure?” Y/N nods, licking over her lips to moisten them. “Okay, baby.”

The petname ignites her entire being, mouth agape as she replays the word falling from his lips over and over in her mind. Harry cups her jaw with his right hand, brushing his thumb over the plushy skin of her cheek while licking his lips as well. Y/N’s heart is going a mile a minute, feeling whimsical and disoriented — but in the best way, like all she can think about is Harry, consuming all of her senses.

“I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?” He words the question like a statement, his lips mere centimeters from hers, and she nods dreamily.

He closes the gap and presses his lips to hers, letting her get a feel for what having someone on her face is like before creating a suction motion to pull more of her lips into the kiss. Her eyes finally close all the way, keeping them open at first to see Harry in this mega zoomed in fashion, but eventually lets them organically shut while enjoying her first kiss ever. Her body has never felt so hot — nor has the spot between her legs — and her mind has never felt so busy, thinking about every conjured up fantasy of kissing Harry she’s ever curated in the past and realizing none of them compare to the real experience in this very moment. She subconsciously moans into the kiss, and Harry breathlessly laughs into her mouth. When he pulls away, Y/N thinks it’s over, but he returns once more for a few random pecks.

“There,” Harry’s breath fans across her face, “now you’ve been kissed.” Y/N smiles shyly and gives him a quick peck on the cheek before thanking him. “Don’t think I forgot what you didn’t want to tell me earlier. I’ll be expecting that information soon, missy.”

Ah, fuck.

///

Ever since Harry gifted Y/N with her first kiss, they’ve been spending a lot of time together — when she isn’t at work. That night, he stayed over and slept on the couch, and gave her a kiss in the morning while cooking breakfast. Y/N’s loving every second of it, despite not knowing where on the friendship/relationship spectrum they are. She went from not ever being kissed to getting kissed multiple times a day, sometimes for hours at a time, which is super nice. Harry’s developed a knack for turning a simple kiss into a heated makeout session, involving some fondling and groping (mostly on his part because Y/N is too timid to touch him between his legs) and maybe squeezing her breast while slipping his tongue into her mouth. It might not sound like much to a sexually experienced person, but to Y/N, it’s a lot, and she never wants it to end. But she knows there’s more to explore, and she thinks she’s ready to dive into the deep end.

“I just want more sexy clothes, ya know? I feel like it’s time.” Y/N tells Wilma as they venture into the back of a sex shop where the clothes are kept.

“I feel like I’m your mom, and I’m taking you bra shopping for the first time. My baby’s all grown up.” She pinches her friend’s cheeks. “You’re really into Harry, huh? You two didn’t even show up at last night’s function. What were you two doing, hmm?”

Making out for three hours.

“Stooop,” Y/N groans. Her eyes land on a pair of pristine white socks that travel up to the knee, and she’s mesmerized.

“Ah, thigh-highs,” Wilma admires the cotton. “Guys love those.”

“Really?” Y/N looks at her friend then back at the socks so fast, she’s sure she gave herself whiplash. “Ya think Harry will like them?”

“Listen to you! A week ago, you dressed for you, and now you’re weighing your outfit choices on a boy.”

“Are you going to pretend like you didn’t buy that matching bra and panty set that one time because you knew your date’s favorite color was red?”

“Alright,” Wilma exhausts, fluffing her hair before pulling down the socks from the wall. “Let’s get you these already. I’m starving, and the food court closes in twenty minutes. If I don’t get my buffalo chicken wrap, it’s on you.”

///

Y/N rushes home, showers, and tries on the socks. They feel snug on her thighs, hugging them firmly, which is a good sign. She was afraid they’d slide down when she walked, but upon testing them out, they stay in place, and Y/N jumps with joy.

She feels sexy and settles on walking through her apartment naked (well, not entirely — she still has the socks on). She’s never done that, even though she’s been living alone for over a year; she just thought it was too taboo. Now, she regrets not doing it sooner.

Opening up the fridge, she grabs the milk to pour into her bowl of cereal, so she doesn’t hear the front door open. If she had, she would’ve used the door of the fridge to hide her naked body to protect her from further embarrassment.

“Hey, love. I picked up Knives Out like you asked so we can watch it tonight. . .”

Harry stops talking, eyed locked on the cutie’s body who he’s been kissing for the past week, and he feels himself growing already in his pants. He notices the socks that inch up to her knees, and he gulps.

“HARRY!” Y/N yells, skidding her bowl of cereal onto the kitchen island before running to her bedroom and shutting the door. “WHY DIDN’T YOU KNOCK?!” She shouts from the other side of her door.

Harry shakes his head to rid his mind of images of her naked body.

Her perfect naked body.

“You-You told me you’d leave the door unlocked for me.” The atmosphere is silent and still for a few seconds. “I’m sorry, I promise I didn’t see anything!” He lies.

He recalls from moments ago how smooth her skin looked, the curve of her breasts, her pebbled nipples, the slope of her hips, her neatly trimmed pubic hair leading down to-

“It. . .fuck,” Y/N curses, probably tripping over her own feet trying to put her panties on. “It’s okay.”

Harry begins to feel worse, not liking the tone in her voice. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. I swear I-“

Y/N emerges from her room, now adorned in sleep shorts and a thin shirt, along with her thigh-highs. Harry can make out two faint peaks beneath her shirt, so he assumes she didn’t put on a bra.

“Really, it’s fine.” She awkwardly laughs while crossing her arms, shielding her hardening nipples from Harry’s view. “I shouldn’t have been walking around naked with my door unlocked. Silly me.”

Harry chuckles along with her, trying to maintain eye contact, but it’s a struggle when all he can think about is her naked body.

“It’s your apartment,” he reasons with her in an attempt to make her feel less awkward about everything.

Silence falls between them again, lingering in the air. Y/N lets out a breathless laugh as an icebreaker, walking back to the kitchen to pour her cereal down the garbage disposal. The amount of embarrassment she feels made her lose her appetite.

“So! You, uh, you brought Knives Out? I’ve been wanting to see it.” She makes small talk, shouting to him from the kitchen.

“Um, yeah! It’s a really good movie.” Harry scratches the back of his neck, not sure how to act. He wants to tell her how beautiful she is bare, but he’s isn’t sure how she’ll take it.

“The reviews have been pretty good!” She chirps as she re-enters her living area. “Oh, so, like,” she fiddles with her hair, still a bit damp from her shower, “I put my blu-ray player in my room, instead of having it in the living room, so we’ll have to watch it in there.” The approaching awkwardness of being on her bed with Harry looms over her. “Unless you want me to bring it back in here! It’s no biggie.”

“No! It’s fine!” His voice is equally as high as hers, both speaking at an insanely high octave to mask the tension. “We can do it in your room. I mean, watch the movie! Not like do it,” Harry begins to sweat, imagining her naked body he just saw beneath him as he pushes into her. He knows she’s a virgin, and he’s never been with one, so he wonders how tight she really is. “I mean. . .”

“I know,” Y/N giggles into her hand. “Oh, God.” She covers her eyes with her palms. “Are we gonna be this awkward the whole night?”

Harry sputters a laugh, the crinkles by his eyes forming. “I hope not.”

He follows her into her bedroom and tries his best not to ogle her bottom. She stops in front of the TV, ready to retrieve the movie from Harry, but he isn’t prepared to be stopped in his tracks, so he topples over her a bit.

“Sorry,” they both say in unison. “What’re you sorry for?”

“Just gimme the movie.” Y/N playfully snatches the movie from Harry and sticks her tongue out at him, showing him she’s getting over what happened, making him relax and dissolve any tension in his shoulders and back.

Once she turns the movies on, she dims the lights, and they both climb into her bed. She’s happy her room is clean, or else she’d be even more embarrassed. Her duvet is also fresh out of the wash, smelling of roses from her detergent to match the roses scattered about on her bedspread. She thinks about peeling the blanket back to cover herself because she’s sort of cold, but she doesn’t want to hide her socks from Harry. She remembers how blown his eyes were when he saw her in only them, so she thinks he likes them. However, she exposes herself once she begins to shiver.

“Cold?” Harry asks discerningly, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer. Even if things aren’t 100% not awkward anymore, he’s not going to let her freeze by being too scared to touch her and warm her up.

“Just a little,” she sighs contently and leans her head in the crook of his neck. They stay like that for a while into the movie, and Harry gradually pulls her closer until she’s practically in his lap. “I can’t watch the movie like this,” she giggles into the fabric of his shirt.

“I like these socks,” he fingers the little bows at the top of them, near her knee, and Y/N’s grateful she’s already in Harry’s lap or else she’d have no support keeping her up. “And you haven’t given me a kiss yet tonight.”

“Neither have you,” she fires back, nibbling on her bottom lip.

The movie — regardless of how good of a film it is — is soon forgotten, and the couple inevitably molds their lips together. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to gain some heat, causing the need for friction to grow ever so slightly. Y/N grounds her hips down against Harry’s, feeling a rather large bump, and she stops.

“What?” Harry observes her intently. “Did I accidentally bite you, or. . .” He realizes she’s looking down at his crotch, and he’s grateful for the darkness engulfing them in the room or else his red cheeks would be on full display. “Oh.”

“D-Did I. . .make you like that?”

The innocence in Y/N’s voice turns Harry on exponentially, causing his cock to thicken further in his pants.

“Is there another cutie sitting in my lap who I don’t know about?” He teases.

“Oh,” she blushes as well, and Harry can see her nipples, as hard as ever, tenting her shirt. He thinks, if he looks closely enough, he can even make out the little bumps on her areolas.

“Is it too much for you? We can stop.” His big hands migrate down to her hips, in an effort to move her off of him.

“No, it’s not too much!” She rushes out. “I just, well, I’ve never actually seen one in person, so. . .it just made me a little flustered.” She shakes her head, and her hair flows around her, looking like a beautiful angel.

“You’re so cute,” he gushes, awarding her with a simple and sweet forehead kiss. “We can do whatever you want to do. Just tell me.” His hands move back up her torso, and his thumbs and forefingers find her nipples rather fast, tweaking them, making Y/N’s toes curl behind her. He’s never actually been this handsy with her breasts (only ever just squeezing them from time-to-time while kissing) so it’s another new experience for Y/N, and her head is swimming in filth.

“You decide,” she whimpers, melting into his touch and pushing her chest out for him.

Harry begins slowly inching her shirt up, revealing more and more of her abdomen, until the material is bunched beneath her breasts. He stops and looks into her eyes, and she nods subtly. He continues lifting her shirt until her breasts bounce into view. Harry’s lips part in awe. He’s already seen them earlier when he caught her walking around naked, but now he’s seeing them up close, and he’s entranced.

“You have really nice tits,” he struggles to get out, feeling choked up by the lovely sight in front of him.

“Thank you,” Y/N accepts her compliment shyly, waiting for him to touch her chest again.

His fingers travel back to her nipples and lightly graze over them, letting her get a feel for it at first before pinching them. She gasps and tightens her breath, liking this foreplay a lot, and looks down for a tick to see Harry’s hands in action. Her heart is beating so fast, she wonders if he can feel it.

“Can I, like,” he turns off the movie and switches on her bedside table lamp, “use my mouth?” Y/N nods quickly, making Harry chuckle at her eagerness. He ducks his head and flicks his tongue against one of her nipples, gauging her reaction before doing the same to the other. She tenses up, causing him to pull back and lift his head. “Are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah,” Y/N swallows thickly. “It feels good. It’s just new. Sorry if I’m jumpy.”

Harry laughs before returning to his previous task. The strokes with his tongue are wide, encompassing her entire nipple and areola, leaving her whining and tugging on his curls. He hasn’t even suckled her tit into his mouth yet, but Harry’s loving her reaction.

“Ya like that?” He asks her, seemingly innocent, but it sounds dirty in their case. She hums uh-huh and squeezes her breasts between her forearms, now looking larger and more plump. Harry groans, drawing her left tit into his mouth, and she gasps wetly, yet it’s accompanied with a laugh. The feeling is new yet ticklish.

“Sorry,” she apologizes before he remarks on it.

“S’okay,” he chuckles with her tit still between his lips.

He suckles on the other one, going a bit harder and gently biting it, and Y/N’s whimpers turn feral. Her hips gyrate in a circle on his lap, thickening his already hard cock. She feels brave and reaches down for him, grabbing the outline of his shaft in her fist. Harry tenses up himself, causing Y/N to pull her hand away quickly.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes again. “I should’ve asked first.”

“No, you’re fine, baby.” He kisses her lips to reassure her. “I just wasn’t expecting it. You can keep touching me.”

Inside, Harry’s head is exploding as Y/N grabs ahold of his dick over his sweatpants. The knowledge that she’s never done this to anyone else has him leaking into his boxers, forming a visible wet spot. Y/N’s eyes grow as she examines his crotch, realizing she’s the one to make him have such a drippy cock.

“Am I doing okay?” She squeaks as Harry takes her breast back into his mouth, nodding when she tightens her grip on his shaft.

“So fucking good,” he curses, biting her nipple while his fingers pinch her other one. Her head lulls back, pushing her chest out more, and Harry whines, feeling overloaded with arousal. For the past week — ever since they started kissing — he’s had to fuck his own hand while coming to the thought of her, but now he thinks he’s going to come in her hand. “Love,” he sucks air through his teeth when Y/N pumps him faster over his sweats, having to rest his forehead against her collarbone to gather himself, “I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.”

That encourages Y/N to keep on, massaging his thick cock through the material of his pants and boxers a little more roughly, causing Harry to groan into her neck as he mouths away at the tender skin there. She thinks he’s giving her a hickey, and that excites her. Her hands move faster, eyes fluttering because the thought of getting him off is doing wonders for her too, and she feels him twitch in her palm. He feels big, and she begins to drool as she conjures up images of what his big cock must look like. When he’s coming, he doesn’t say anything, and instead moans deeply into her ear before kissing her hard, biting her lower lip while he releases into his boxers.

Y/N wishes she could watch him create the puddle in his sweatpants, but they’re still kissing — which she doesn’t mind in the slightest. She bites his lip back, astounded that she just made someone orgasm, the thought making her whine into his mouth as well.

“God,” Harry exclaims, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’ve never came like that.”

Y/N mentally pats herself on the back, assuming he meant he’s never came in his boxers, or maybe that he’s never had an orgasm as strong as that one; but either way, she’s proud of herself and gives him a long kiss, which he reciprocates. He maneuvers her off his lap, and she’s confused, looking at him doe-eyed as he swings his legs off her bed.

“Oh!” He realizes what he’s doing might look odd to someone sexually inexperienced. “I’m just gonna go clean myself up, baby.” He grabs her chin and pulls her close for a reassuring kiss. “Do ya still have my clothes I left here last night?” Y/N nods and retrieves them from her dresser, toddling over time him with his pants and boxers neatly folded. He chuckles, “thank you, cutie. I’ll be two minutes.” He rewards her with a kiss to her temple before heading to the bathroom, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Oh, my God. I just made someone cum. I made Harry cum! An ecstatic squeal escapes her throat as she does a little twirl. And he thinks I have nice tits! She gropes her chest, examining them in the mirror connected to her dresser. They are pretty nice.

“I’m baaack,” Harry sings, now a clean pair of pajama pants hanging low on his slender hips.

“Hi,” she skips over to him and plants a firm kiss on his lips.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” he smiles while rubbing her back. She giggles and buries her face in his chest.

Not expecting to be picked up, she squawks when she’s lifted from her carpeted floor and carried to her bed. Harry places her on her back and grabs her by her ankle to pull her closer to him.

“Now,” he’s smug as he rubs his hands up and down her thighs, “how should I repay you for earlier?” He toys with the little bows at the top of her thigh-highs before dipping his fingers beneath the fabric. Even though he just came not three minutes ago, he can feel his heavy member bloat up as he admires Y/N’s socks that go above her knee. Something about them are so sexy, but he can’t put his finger on it. He just really loves them.

“Oh!” Y/N is surprised, not expecting anything in return. Making him come was enough for her. “You want to. . .touch me?”

Sensually and slowly, Harry drags his mouth across Y/N’s soft stomach. “If you’ll let me.” He looks into her pretty eyes before saying, “I want to taste you, too.”

Moisture gathers in Y/N’s panties in 0.2 seconds, clenching her thighs at the thought of Harry between them, which becomes reality when he crawls lower, now kneeling on the floor to have better access between her spread legs.

“Do you want me to?” His question breaks the spell she was under, picturing his tongue slathering across her cunt.

“Okay,” she consents, although feeling a bit weird. She doesn’t know where to put her hands, or where to look, so she’s certain she looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

“We don’t have to if you’re nervous,” he smiles kindly at her, rubbing her hip in small circles with his thumb. “I just thought I’d offer.”

“I want to,” she whines. “I just don’t know what to do, or how to act. I feel dumb.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow together. “Aw, baby. It’s just something new! And you’re most definitely not dumb.” He kisses her sock-clad knee. “You’re just a little nervous, yeah?” She nods. “What can I do to make you feel more comfortable?”

Y/N swoons big time, wanting to give up her virginity right here, right now.

“I don’t know. . .”

“Ya know,” Harry starts, “when I’m going down on you, you don’t have to do anything, yeah? You just have to lay there and feel good. That sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

Filthy images invade Y/N’s mind once more, making her more eager for it. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?” Harry presses her.

“Okay, I’m more comfortable with you doing it.” Her fingers lace into his hair, and he leans into her touch like an animal would.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby, you don’t have to worry about anything, ‘kay?”

His nimble fingers work on ridding her of her shorts at the same time Y/N removes her shirt. It makes Harry prideful that she’s getting so open about revealing more of her body to him. Once she begins sliding her socks down her legs, Harry stops her.

“Actually, can you keep these on?” His plea is rushed, pupils dilating. He doesn’t know what it is about these socks, but they’re driving him fucking crazy.

“Oh. . .okay,” she concurs, and lets him remove her last article of clothing -- her panties. When they’re completely off, she shuts her thighs, feeling timid and vulnerable -- not to mention she still isn’t sure where they lie on the friendship/relationship spectrum, and she wonders if this act will topple the scale any.

“Take your time, baby.” He massages her knees, and it’s running Y/N wild how understanding and compassionate he’s being. She takes a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling. It’s still quite dark in the room -- the only light source being her one lamp turned on -- so it makes her feel more at ease for what’s about to happen. Like most girls, she’s kind of, sort of, insecure about her bits down there. She’s in her early twenties, and no one’s seen them (except herself) so she’s hoping Harry will like them.

She parts her legs, slowly, and waits for Harry’s reaction, expecting something audible -- maybe a little praise on how her cunt looks -- but instead, she’s greeted by something flat and wet on her core, making her go pigeon-toed.

“Harry,” is the first thing that comes to mind for her to say, not really ready for what he did, but it feels great, and she wants more. He gives her another lick before answering.

“Yeah?” He lifts his head up to look at her.

“You-You. . .I wasn’t expecting it so soon.” She gasps, back arching when Harry’s thumb begins rubbing up and down on her puffy clit.

“Sorry,” he laughs breathlessly. “You just have a really nice pussy -- couldn’t resist.”

“Oh! You like it?” She asks innocently, peering down at him between her legs.

“Mhm,” he kisses her labia while his thumb remains pleasuring her. “And I’m honored you’re letting me be the first person to see it -- so, thank you.”

Y/N realizes she hasn’t told Harry yet about her crush on him, so he’s most likely thinking she just trusts him enough as a friend to give her so many of her firsts, but she pushes the thought to the back of her mind for the time-being. She has other things to tend to.

“You’re welcome,” she feels awkward after saying, flinging her head back against the mattress in embarrassment, causing a string of laughter to echo in the room from Harry.

“You’re so cute,” he tells her before reattaching his lips to her wet core, sliding his tongue between her folds to get a good, solid taste of her. His hand subconsciously moves inside his pajama pants and begins stroking his cock, thankful he’s on his knees on the floor so Y/N can’t see. He doesn’t want her to think he’s some sex-crazed guy who needs to come over and over.

He focuses on her taste, humming here and there mindlessly when he thinks she tastes especially delicious, and the vibrations from him tingle her lady bits, resulting in her abdomen clenching and her thighs quaking.

She lets out a satisfied moan -- a bunch of them -- feeling so incredibly good, she didn’t know pleasure like this existed. Harry’s tongue is too skilled for its own good, and it has her lifting her hips to get more of it, while simultaneously rutting down into her mattress to create a building pressure beneath her clit. Her hands end up finding their place and aren’t shy about yanking on Harry’s hair. He seems to like it, if his own moans are anything to go by.

“Taste so good,” is all he mutters before giving his leaky cock a few more pumps of his hand and bringing both hands to her thighs, pushing her up and out so he has more access to where she’s growing increasingly wet for him.

Her knees are now to her chest, and her legs bent at the knee, so her calves are flush with the back of her thighs. This new position is very open and revealing, leaving Harry to his own demise to explore more dips and squishy bits of her lady cavern -- and caress the soft material of her socks -- and Y/N has no complaints. She’s thankful she stretches regularly, though, because this position isn’t for the faint of heart.

Appeased with how wet he’s made her, he thinks it’s time to do what he knows will send her over the edge. He wraps his lips around her swollen button and sucks, closing his eyes as he revels in her taste, and opens them back up to look at her nipples tightening on her chest. He hums with her clit in his mouth, and Y/N squeals, giving a particularly hard tug on Harry’s locks.

“Feels good, yeah? Just like I said it would?” He gloats.

“Yes,” Y/N gasps over and over, now in the thick of her euphoria, and she senses her orgasm peering at her from around the corner. “I really like it. I like-” She abruptly stops herself, almost giving away her secret. “It just feels really good.” Good save.

Harry attaches his thumb to her clit and rubs it like he was previously, distracting her before slicking up her weepy hole with his tongue -- proper delving his face in and getting his scruffy chin all wet and sticky -- and thrusting one of his fingers inside.

“Oh,” she exhales, feeling her body deflate almost as she succumbs to this new pleasure. Sure, she’s fingered herself before, but it almost felt like nothing (she assumes it’s due to her not finding the right angle that works for her) and Harry’s one, single finger feels extraordinary inside her.

Knowing she would be tight, profanities swarm Harry’s mind, wondering if she feels this tight and warm around his digit, how tight will she feel around his cock? He replaces his thumb with his mouth on her clit and pushes in another finger next to his middle.

“Christ, you’re so tight, baby. Ya feel okay?”

Y/N clenches her eyes shut, waiting for the uncomfortable sting to melt away. “Yeah, just. . .just go slow.”

Harry’s heart goes out to her, wishing he could take away any pain she’s feeling. “Do ya want me to stop using my fingers, baby? I can just keep using my mouth if ya’d like?”

“But I. . .I like it,” Y/N blushes. “I just need some time to get used to it, s’all. You can keep going.”

“Okay, darling.” Kissing her inner thigh, he goes back to work, and sucks at her clit as a distraction while pumping his two fingers in and out of her. She whines and twists her body, sending Harry into a frenzy. “Taking my fingers so well, baby girl. You’re so tight.”

Y/N’s mouth falls open as she rests her head fully on her mattress, eyes hooded in ecstasy, feeling fuller than she’s ever experienced, and it’s only Harry’s two fingers inside her. She clamps down when she imagines how Harry’s cock would feel, giggling when Harry murmurs a fuck around her clit before giving it a quick lick. Never did she ever imagine her good friend Harry would be mouthing away at her cunt, or opening her up with his fingers, but now it’s actually happening, and she doesn’t know how to process the information. She’s sure she’ll journal about it later.

Once the burn begins to well up in her belly, she becomes antsy and needy, pulling Harry’s face closer to her soaking core while lifting her hips up. The combination of Harry’s pumping fingers, and his lips wrapped securely around her little button has her seeing stars. The white, hot heat traveling through her body like a tidal wave consumes her, never having felt so good in her life, and she thinks it’s protocol to tell her partner when she’s coming (she’s seen it in porn).

“Harry, I’m. . .oh, I’m g’na-”

Choosing not to speak, Harry flicks his tongue faster to bring her to her finish, wanting to feed on more of her sweet nectar splashing against his taste buds. His tongue goes extremely fast on her swollen, wet button, so it’s no surprise Y/N is coming rather hard: tummy taut, nipples pebbled to a T, her thighs trembling, and her eyes lulling back into her skull. Her vision is a mixture of cloudiness-meets-white-smoke, and she’s a euphoric mess.

“Oh, my God,” she exclaims loudly, back arching and pushing her chest out high, allowing Harry to migrate his hands up north to catch a feel on her breasts while his face stays buried in between her legs, rubbing her cunt raw with his facial hair.

They’re both a filthy sight, and Y/N naughtily wishes she had recorded them (with Harry’s consent, of course) so she could play it back whenever she needed some inspiration during her alone time; but this experience will work just fine.

“Did ya enjoy that?” Harry wipes his mouth with the back of his hand while getting on her bed, resting on his side with his head propped up on his fist so he can admire her in her post-orgasmic state.

“Did I. . .are you kidding?” Y/N draws her knees together to create a small amount of friction on her clit before her orgasm fades away completely. She turns her head to see Harry’s prideful smile, looking at her like he just dug up gold in the 1940s.

“Another first checked off the list,” he draws a check mark in the air, Y/N finding it funny and giggling into her hand; then, she gets to thinking:

Is he only doing this stuff with me to get my firsts out of the way, for his benefit? Does he get off knowing I’m inexperienced?

Y/N feels sick at the thought and decides she’s wrong because her friend Harry would never do that to her. She crumples the nasty thought -- like it’s a piece of paper -- and tosses it into the metaphorical trash lodged in the back of her brain.

They spend the rest of the night chatting and cuddling in her bed, eventually falling asleep in each other’s arms.

///

The week thereafter is filled with snuggles and kisses (on her lips down under as well). Harry even surprised her at work once or twice to take her out for lunch because he knows she tends to eat the yucky hospital food if she doesn’t bring her own lunch from home, and she spends all day tending to ill people (she’s a nurse after all) so Harry thinks it’s his duty to treat her when he can (not that he could. His boss nearly bit his head off for taking an extra half hour lunch break, but Harry thought it was worth it, seeing the smile on Y/N’s face once he walked through the corridor).

Everything feels right and in place, especially now that Y/N’s the slightest bit tispy at tonight’s friend-gathering. One of the guys in their group, Lloyd, is the host for tonight, and they’ve all been to his house before (yeah, he has a house -- his engineering job pays very well) so everyone is comfortable conversing and abusing their livers with the insane amount of alcohol purchased for this evening.

The gang has all seen how affectionate Harry is toward Y/N, so they don’t second guess anything when he pulls her into his lap during a game of What Do You Meme? or when she kisses his cheek after he wins a round of trivia. They do, however, become suspicious when they sneak away into Lloyd’s guest bathroom.

“What’re ya doin’, love?” Harry semi-drunkenly snorts, holding onto her waist as she locks the bathroom door. “Brought me to the bathroom ‘cause ya want me to eat y’sweet, little peach?”

“Uh-uh,” the three glasses of wine Y/N has gulped down over the last thirty minutes enlists a sense of courage in her usually timid demeanor, “I want to s-” she hiccups, “suck your cock.”

Harry is drunk, but he isn’t that drunk, and his eyes grow twice their size upon hearing her speak those words. “You want to suck my cock?” He asks with a smile, toying with her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

“Please,” she nods and begs, blinking her pretty eyes rapidly to flutter her lashes.

“Are you sure?” He asks for his own sanity, wanting to check she’s still all there. “It’s not the moscato talking?”

“It was peach bellini,” she pouts, threading her fingers through his belt loops. “And no, I didn’t have that much. I can hold my alkey-hall.” Speaking like a child doesn’t help her case, so Harry does some of his own tests before agreeing.

“What’s twelve times ten?”

“One hundred twenty!” Y/N jumps in excitement. “I haven’t forgotten my times tables.”

Harry’s now positive that she’s not totally drunk because even sober he knows he couldn’t answer that math question thrown at him.

He grabs her by the chin and chuckles while saying, “Okay, honey. You can suck my cock.” He feels a throb in his shaft when she cheers yay and drops to her knees, unfastening his pants, eager to stuff her mouth with him. She yanks his jeans to mid-thigh, along with his boxers, and gasps loudly when his cock comes into view. This is her first time seeing it, and it’s lovely.

“It’s so pretty,” she speaks so softly, as if she’s saying it to herself. Her eyes wander back up to his, “You have a pretty cock, Harry.”

He sputters on a chuckle and pets her hair. “Thank you, baby.”

The compliments have him at full mast in a matter of seconds, and Y/N gets a feel for him before deciding when to put him in her mouth. She creates a pumping motion with her fist, knowing the basics on what to do, and takes a gander up at Harry every once in a while to see how he’s liking it.

His chest rises and falls, unable to tear his eyes away from his cutie on her knees for him for the first time. “You’re doing good, baby.” He affirms her actions. “Take your time -- do whatever you want. M’all yours, yeah?”

The friendship/relationship scale has definitely tipped.

Y/N coos dreamily and kisses his tip, gathering some of the salty liquid there, and licks it off her lips. She likes the taste and goes back for more, until she needs more of it on her tongue, and engulfs the thick crown of his cock between her plushy lips. Harry hisses, and his abdomen muscles coil, gripping both sides of her face for leverage. If she were more experienced, he’d grab her by the hair and fuck her face; but she isn’t ready for that, so he refrains and lets her happily lick all over him.

“Fuck, y-yeah like that,” he stutters when she takes him farther into her warm mouth, swirling her tongue around his thick shaft. It feels so good -- better than anyone else who’s given him a blowie -- so he wonders how she’s never done this before. Regardless, he’s over the moon that he’s the first person for whom she’s done this.

“Ya like my mouth?” She asked upon popping his dick out from between her lips, jerking him off and mouthing away at the sides of his shaft.

“S’so good, darling.” He wraps a hand in her hair and slightly tugs, her pupils dilating, and her cheeks flushing, letting him know she likes it. “Yeah? Like when I pull on your hair when your mouth’s full of my cock?” He does it again, tugging on her roots, and her eyes flutter closed as she hums contently around his aching prick. “You dirty girl.”

“I’m your dirty girl,” she agrees, batting her lashes while bobbing her head up and down his dick, making Harry’s neck veins fairly prominent as she struggles not to thrust his hips into her mouth.

She only has to keep up her pace for, maybe, two more minutes before she feels him swell and still in her mouth, somewhat alarming her.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” His finger touches her cheek, feeling his cock dent it. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth.” He clutches her hair as his orgasm consumes him, climbing up his spine and soothing his muscles as he shoots onto her tongue, coating her taste buds with him. Y/N doesn’t hate the taste, but she doesn’t love it -- somewhere in between -- but she swallows the best she can nonetheless because she loves Harry.

Love? The word bounces back and forth in her brain, invading her filthy thoughts from before. I love Harry? As she looks up at him in his orgasmic state, eyes closed, brows bunched together, lips agape, cheeks pink, and replaying his words from earlier ‘m’all yours, yeah?’ she knows she does, and there’s no running from it.

She suckles at his tip for a few seconds more before completely pulling off and tucking him back into his pants. Harry helps her to her feet and rewards her with a gentle kiss, not caring that his cock was just in her mouth.

“Thank you,” he vocalizes his gratitude and leans his forehead against hers, stealing a few kisses here and there. “You’re good at that. How was that your first time? Ya secretly holdin’ out on me?”

“No,” she giggles against his lips, “but I’m happy you liked it. I was afraid I’d be bad.”

“With lips like these,” Harry fiddles with her top and bottom lip, “how could you be bad?” Y/N blushes and hides her face on his shoulder so he can’t see her anymore. “Let’s go back to the party, yeah? Although, I’m sure our friends are too busy playing truth or dare with shots to notice we went missing.”

Harry opens the door and sticks his head out, scanning the room in front of the bathroom, and checks to see if the coast is clear. Harry has his reasons for doing this, and no one is around, so he ushers her out and leaves hot on her tail. He tells her he’ll meet her on the outside patio, and that he’ll just be a few while getting them some beers. She agrees and presses her lips to his cheek before disappearing into the sea of their friends. What Harry didn’t expect was for Lloyd to pull him to the side once he got to the kitchen.

“You’re kidding*,” Lloyd drawls out. “You and Y/N! That’s awesome, man!”

Y/N realizes she can’t find her phone and thinks she left it on the kitchen counter when she was on a hunt for chips and dip earlier. She enters the kitchen and sees Harry talking to Lloyd. She thinks nothing of it and makes her way closer. She hears Lloyd’s statement of applause to Harry, and she anxiously awaits his response.

Is he gonna say we’re together?

“Nah, man, Y/N’s just my friend.”

Y/N swears she can feel her heart fall to her stomach and out her ass and hear the plop onto the floor. She feels sick and covers her mouth.

Oh, no.

Y/N runs back outside and hurls into a bush. Wilma is nearby and hurries over to help her friend, holding her hair back.

“Oh, sweetie. Too much to drink tonight?”

Y/N feels tears prick at her eyes, which fucking sucks because she’s already throwing up, and now she can’t see if she’s throwing up in the bush or on the wooden deck.

Harry rushes outside once he hears the commotion and worry overcomes him. “Y/N!” He yells, rubbing her back while she continues to throw up. “What happened, baby? You were fine a minute ago.”

She contemplates telling him off in front of everyone, but she’s quite shy, and isn’t one to cause a scene, so she lets the alcohol and stomach bile leave her system before straightening up and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I’m. . .I’m fine. Guess that wine was just really strong, huh?” She jokes because Wilma’s by her side, not wanting to tell her friend (at least not yet) about the immense emotional pain she’s feeling right now.

Y/N’s just my friend.

The words ring in her ears, and she wants to slam her head against a wall to make them stop. She recognizes that’s not healthy and takes a few deep breaths to calm herself down.

“Want me to take you home, love? I don’t think you’re in a partying mood anymore.” Harry offers.

“Sure,” she says dismissively and hugs Wilma bye before brushing past him. It leaves him a bit confused, but he shakes it off, only focused on getting Y/N home now and taken care of. They bid everyone a goodbye and head out to the drive way, waiting for a Lyft to come pick them up. Harry always opens the door for her, so right now is no exception, but Y/N doesn’t say thank you!* in a cheery voice with a kiss to his cheek like she normally does; she instead mutters thanks* and gets in. Harry sums it up to her not feeling well.

On the drive to her apartment, his hand rests on her thigh as they sit in the backseat, and she wants so badly to grab his hand and punch it, but she doesn’t have it in her tonight (especially in front of the stranger driving them) thus letting him keep his hand there and do small circular motions with his thumb from time-to-time to massage any uneasiness stirring inside her; if only he knew it was emotional turmoil and not a physical sickness.

“We’re home, baby.”

Despite being angry and heartbroken, the way he phrases it makes her heart soar.

But he only sees you as a friend, her subconscious adds.

She gets out of the car without saying anything and trudges to her front door, thanking the heavens she lives on the first floor because she isn’t in the mood to walk up a flight of stairs right now.

“Hey!” He calls after her, catching up fairly quickly thanks to his long lower appendages, and slink his arm over her shoulders. “You mad at me or something?” He playfully pinches her cheeks, which she shies away from. Once they reach her apartment door, she digs in her pocket for her keys, ignoring his question. “Baby?” He presses again, hoping the petname she loves will help her answer him -- it doesn’t. “You feeling alright?” The question is accompanied with a little laugh, trying to cushion the blow if she is mad -- she is, but Harry doesn’t know that.

“Super,” she says lamely and tiredly, sticking the key in the doorknob and maneuvering the lock. Once successful, she enters her apartment with Harry rightfully behind. “I want to be alone tonight,” she says in a dry manner, crossing her arms and looking anywhere but him.

The look on Harry’s face breaks her heart even more. “Oh.” He digs under his fingernails, not ready to leave just yet. “Did I, like, do something?”

“No,” Y/N lies, exhaling as she brushes through her hair with her fingers. “I just don’t want any company right now.”

Ouch.

“Not even from me?” Harry laughs hopefully, but he can tell by her harsh stature that she means it.

“Sorry,” she says curtly and tightens her arms across her chest.

“O-Okay. . .” He feels weird. Y/N’s never been this way with him, and he for the life of him can’t figure out why. “Can I get a kiss before I go?”

Y/N pinches her eyebrows in thought. “N-No,” she decides. “I just threw up. . .” She hopes he understands her reasoning (despite not being a fully true one).

Harry scratches his neck while he processes what’s unraveling in front of him. His girl doesn’t want him to spend the night -- doesn’t even want to spend time with him in general right now -- and she doesn’t want him to kiss her. He’s certainly not getting even a wink of sleep tonight.

“Did I really not do anything?” His mouth goes a mile a minute. “Because you seem mad at me, and I don’t want my girl to be mad at me.”

Y/N mutters your girl under her breath, snorting and unfolding her arms to use her fingers to rub her temples. “Please, just go, Harry. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I just need to be alone right now, please.” She begs him to leave, and if she’s not mistaken, his eyes have a gleam to them, like they’re wet. “And I think we should go back to how things were before.”

Harry feels like he’s just been punched in the stomach, not sure of what to say and how to act. He sniffles and looks at her in disbelief. “Tomorrow.” He reminds her firmly, biting on the inside of his cheek to keep his tears from falling as he leaves. He thinks it’s a bit dramatic to be crying over what just happened, but he doesn’t even know what* happened fully, and the uncertainty is killing him.

What did I do to hurt my girl?

///

The next day, Harry showers, brushes his teeth, and eats breakfast at lightning speed before zooming over to Y/N’s apartment. Like expected, he didn’t sleep a wink, and he’s determined to get some answers out of her.

When he arrives, he knocks three times, but no answer. He pulls out his phone to text her and sees a figure walking toward him. It’s Y/N, carrying two large bags of groceries, seeming to be struggling a bit with the weight of it.

“Let me,” he grabs the bags and Y/N thanks him under her breath before opening the door to her home. He places the heavy bags on her kitchen island and turns to her, examining how soft and pretty she looks this Sunday morning. He can tell she showered because her hair is blow-dryed, looking fluffy and beautiful.

“Do you want any orange juice?” She attempts to break the tension.

“No, I don’t want any juice.” He grabs the bottle from her and places it back down on the counter. “I want to know why you’re upset with me -- because I know you are.”

Y/N blows air through her lips in frustration and tucks her baby hairs into the rest of her hair. She begins putting up the groceries, wondering how she’s going to go about this.

“You really have no idea?” She looks back at him after slamming her cabinet shut. “None whatsoever?”

“No!” Harry practically shouts, raising his hands above his head for dramatic effect. “We were in the bathroom, everything was fine, I told you I’d meet you outside with a couple beers, and then I catch you throwing up, and you’re angry at me.” He retraces their steps from the night prior. “Am I missing something?”

Y/N feels the heartbreak all over again, having to take deep breaths before speaking. “What about your little conversation with Lloyd -- remember that?”

Harry turns pale, his stomach full of knots. “Let me explain-”

“No! I want to talk now!” She’s extremely huffy, eyes welling up with tears, and her whole body seeming to feel on fire. “You. . .You jerk! I like you! That’s what I’ve been meaning to tell you! I really like you -- hell, I love you! And for you to say we’re only friends after I gave you so many of my firsts sucks and hurts, and I. . .” she hiccups through her angry tears, wiping her face to rid herself of them, “just get out! I can’t even look at you.”

Harry is astounded, blinking fast while he processes everything just thrown at him within the last ten seconds. He feels like shit for saying that to Lloyd, but he has his reasons -- which he thought were smart at the time -- and he needs to get them out now before they eat him alive.

“Baby-”

“No! Don’t call me that!” She turns away from him, shielding him from seeing how bated her breathing is. “I told you I want to go back to how things were before-”

“I don’t!” Harry’s voice cracks. “And how can we? How can I go back to just being your friend when I know you love me? When I love you?” Y/N stills, turning around slowly to face him now. “Yeah,” he desperately laughs, “I love you -- more than a friend. I’m pretty sure I got a crush on you right when I sat down next to you in our historical geology class junior year of university. I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen -- I still do.”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrow as she begins to ponder their situation. “You love me?” Harry nods. “Then why. . .why did you tell Lloyd I was just your friend? I know I’m not the coolest of the gang, but I didn’t think you’d be embarrassed of me or anything-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Harry puts his hands up to stop her. “First of all, you are very cool, and second of all, I am not embarrassed of you.”

“Then why?” Y/N’s eyes glimmer with hope.

“To protect you, baby.” He inches closer toward her, testing the waters by placing his hand on her waist and pulling her in for a hug. “I know you’re a private person, so I thought you wouldn’t like if I went around telling people we were together. I figured I’d let you be the one to do that. So, when Lloyd thought we were together, I told him we were just friends -- plus, he saw us coming out of the bathroom, and I didn’t want him to know what we were doing in there.”

They both chuckle romantically.

Y/N’s over the moon after listening to Harry’s response, thinking it couldn’t be any more perfect. She hugs him tight to her body and doesn’t let go for almost a minute.

“So, you’re not mad at me anymore, right?” She can feel Harry’s smile against her cheek.

“No.” She’s nothing but a toothy grin and soft, putty insides, inhaling Harry’s scent from his neck while they remain hugging. “I’m sorry I called you a jerk.”

Harry snorts, “It’s okay, love. You were pretty mad. Proper seething,” Y/N exhales a laugh while nosing at his throat, “thought you were gonna rip me head off.”

“Well, you broke my heart last night, so it was justified.” She chuckles while showering him in face kisses.

“Aw, baby,” he pouts, grabbing each of her cheeks, “I broke your heart last night?” She nods sadly. “I’m sorry. Did my explanation put it back together?”

“Yes,” she says with hooded eyes, wishing he’d just kiss her already to conclude their argument. “When’re ya gonna kiss me already?”

Harry’s lips meet hers in a heart-felt smooch, being their best one yet since it’s so full of emotion and infatuation.

“I love you, my sweet girl,” Harry murmurs against her lips.

“I love you, Harry.”

///

Practically instantly, they get to work on removing each other’s clothes -- in the kitchen. Y/N tosses her panties at him before skipping to her bedroom, Harry hot on her tail. They’re completely naked, running their fingertips over the other’s bare body.

“You’re so soft,” Harry tells her after tackling her on the bed. “How’re you so soft? We need to take a shower together soon so I can see what body wash you use.”

Y/N’s sides split as she laughs at his statement, her breasts bouncing, looking very inviting to Harry’s eyes (and cock) and her laughter melts into moans when Harry connects his lips to her nipple, sucking for a bit before kissing all over, even biting the curve of her breast, leaving a mark in its wake when he pulls away. Y/N gazes down at it longingly, thinking it looks very nice on her. He marks her twice more on her neck, the act alone causing his cock to swell and push into Y/N’s folds, forcing her to draw in a breath.

They both groan at the warmness of it, not even thinking about a condom until his cockhead moves up to brush against her clit, smearing some of his precum on it.

“H-Harry,” she pants, “do you have. . .like, a condom?”

Harry doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s kept a condom in his pants pocket ever since he gave Y/N her first kiss. He was hoping and praying she’d trust him enough to let him take her virginity, and now the time has finally come.

“Yeah, in my pants’ pocket.” He remembers they’re in the kitchen and throws his head onto her breasts to use as a pillow. “They’re in the kitchen,” he whines.

“Go get it,” she tickles his sides as motivation for him to get up. It works, thank God, because if neither of them had went to go retrieve the rubber, she’s shamefully sure she would’ve let him fuck her bare, which isn’t safe, but she’s horny, and no one’s head is screwed on right when their privates are throbbing.

He returns with the foil packet in hand and places it on her nightstand. He recognizes her confused look. “Gotta get you ready for me first, baby.” He lies on his back on the mattress and taps the pillow beneath his head on either side. Y/N tilts her head in confusion. “Come sit on my face.”

Y/N’s eyes bulge out of her head, and her cheeks feel the flame of a thousand suns. “Oh!” Her voice is very high-pitched due to how shocked and aroused she is. “Are you sure? I won’t, like, crush you or anything?”

Harry looks at her as if to say really? and grabs her by the thighs to pull her closer. “You’re not gonna crush me,” his laugh is guffaw-esque. “Been wanting your pretty bum on my face for a while now.” Y/N squeaks, still not used to Harry’s dirty words directed toward her, so every time she hears them, it’s a treat.

He successfully aids her in climbing on top of him and grabs her bottom in his hands to lower her onto his mouth. He goes straight for her clit and brings it between his lips, Y/N’s whole body clenching already. It doesn’t take long for her to get soaking wet -- which was Harry’s goal -- and he zig-zags his tongue through her cunt and spanks her behind before she’s coming, seeing stars and releasing her wetness in abundance for him to taste. He hums against her pussy, letting her know he’s enjoying it just as much as she is, and puts her back on the bed beside him. He grabs the foil packet and slides the condom on while simultaneously watching her struggle to catch her breath.

“I wanted to do it,” her voice cracks, looking at him with longing eyes.

“You can do it next time,” he winks.

He flips himself over so he’s on top of her and peppers kisses to her jaw and collarbones, trying to steady her breathing before taking the next step.

“You’re sure you wanna do this, right?”

Y/N loves that he always confirms with her beforehand, bringing his wrist toward her mouth to kiss his palm.

“Yes, I’m ready. I love you.”

Harry’s heart feels as if it’s genuinely about to burst. “I love you more, baby.”

“Nuh-uh,” she shakes her head and pulls him closer to her, as close as she can get him to her body. “I love you most.”

A string of giggles is emitted from Harry’s throat, rumbling in his chest and reverberating onto Y/N. “We both love each other a whole lot, don’t we?”

“Mhm,” she hums against his neck, biting it a bit as well once Harry’s middle and ring fingers pet away at her little hole.

He takes his time with it, knowing how snug she is inside, and eases one finger in at a time, until she’s stuffed with both digits to the brim, knuckles deep. Her whimpers are downright filthy, making his head spin as he pumps his fingers in and out, imagining it’s his cock that’s being squeezed so tightly.

“I want to fuck you so badly.” Harry’s deep voice echos in Y/N’s ears, her cunt involuntarily contracting, making him curse. “You’re so tight, baby girl. How am I gonna fit inside, hmm? I don’t think my big cock will be able to fit,” he riles her up, also noticing how much precum he’s leaked into the condom.

“Yes it will,” she whines pathetically, “it has to. I want you so badly, Harry. I can take your cock -- promise.”

Y/N promising she can take Harry’s cock has him growling into her neck as he thrusts his fingers in and out of her, twisting on the downstroke before pushing back in.

“You think you can take me, baby?” She nods frantically. “I think you can, too; always so good for me and wanting to make me feel good. Tha’s why you had to suck my cock last night, right? Had to have a taste of me?”

Toes curling, Y/N comes once more, although this time it’s around Harry’s fingers. She holds onto his biceps while her body convulses, sending her into a frenzy. He wasn’t even touching her clit, so she’s flabbergasted to say the least.

“Oh, my sweet girl. Did my fingers make you feel that good?” She nods tiredly with a grin. “I hope my cock can, too. But I know it most likely will hurt, so just tell me how you want me, okay, darling?”

“Okay,” Y/N doesn’t even recognize her voice, feeling too far gone as Harry begins to push into her. He gets the crown of his cock inside with ease, thanks to how wet and open she is, but as he pushes in more, there’s some resistance, and Y/N’s eyes shut in discomfort.

“Does it hurt, baby?” He asks wearily.

“A little.” He stills, but Y/N doesn’t agree. “No, please keep going.”

“But you said it hurts,” he frowns.

“Just a little,” she entwines her fingers into his hair. “I can take it. Just, please, don’t stop. I want to feel you -- all of you.”

Harry’s eyes roll back into his skull at that statement, pushing in inch by inch, filling her more to extremes she’s never known. She gasps sharply, tightening her hold on his hair, and he stops, but remembers her request and starts back up again, but goes slower. Y/N head falls back against her pillow, letting Harry admire all her beauty as he sheaths his cock inside her velvety cunt. Once all the way in, he has to bite at the skin of her shoulder to compose himself.

“Fucking hell,” Harry’s toes curl, going pigeon-toed while enjoying the vice grip around his cock. “You’re so. . .you’re so tight, baby. I don’t think,” he pauses before continuing, chagrin written all over his face, “I don’t think I’ll be able to last very long.”

The sting in Y/N’s core is bearable, but it’s still uncomfortable, so she tries to ignore the feeling as she listens to Harry.

“That’s okay,” she assures him and rubs her hands all over his back.

“I should be rubbing your back. How bad does it hurt?”

“Not too bad,” she winces when he pulls out, only to push back in. “It’s okay.”

“Good,” he showers her face with kisses, “couldn’t stand knowing I was hurting you, especially after what happened last night.” His thrusts start off insanely slow, getting her accustomed to having something so big and hard inside of her. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

His words dissolve any irritation she feels down below and grabs ahold of his face to mold her lips to his. It’s hard for Harry to keep moving his hips with his head and torso leaned so far down, but he manages, causing every stroke of his cock inside of her to feel deep and jagged.

“I love you.” She tells him in his ear, tears pricking her eyes -- but not from pain. She feels so overwhelmed with emotions right now -- and so full -- and the mixture is mind blowing.

Harry must feel her tears on his skin because he stops moving. “Oh, no, baby, it hurts that badly? I’m so sorry, honey, we can stop.”

“No, please, don’t stop.” She begs him, clinging to him as if she’s afraid he’ll float away if she lets go. “I’m not crying ‘cause it hurts,” she explains. “I just feel good, and I’m happy -- I’m so happy, Harry, and I love you, and, s’just. . .”

More tears threaten to spill down Y/N’s cheeks, and when they do, Harry kisses away each and every one. “My honey,” he kisses all over her face and ends with her lips, “I love you, too. And you make me so happy, more than you’ll ever know.”

His thrusting picks back up, going a bit faster so the headboard now smacks against the wall, and the boxspring creaks beneath them. They’re also quite moist, and the layer of sweat on each of them would be unbearable if they were to think about it; but they aren’t. They’re focused on each other, and the love that’s pouring out of their hearts and souls as they make love for the first time of many to come.

Harry’s left hand reaches up for the headboard, putting his tattoos on display in Y/N’s field of vision, and for some reason, it does it for her more than she thought possible. She didn’t think women were supposed to orgasm during their first time having sex with a man, but she thinks she’s damn near close when she watches Harry’s bicep flex and strain when he swivels his hips to nudge against her spongy bump deep inside her cunt.

“Harry,” is the only thing she seems capable of saying as her pussy opens up fully, now, accepting Harry’s cock and her walls self-lubricating further for optimum pleasure. “I think I’m. . .”

“What, baby?”

“I’m g’na-”

Her orgasm makes her stop speaking, instead releasing a concoction of a squeak and a whimper as she experiences a new type of orgasm, one in which she has something filling her to the brink, moving in and out at a speed that makes her head swim.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck,” Harry gasps when he realizes what’s happening, fucking into her quicker than before to chase after his own orgasm. “You’re cumming, baby? Cumming all over my cock?”

“Nggh,” her body trembles as her third orgasm within the last thirty minutes courses through her body, her bones feeling like Jell-O, and her vision nothing but pretty diamond stars.

Harry’s not far behind and grits his teeth as he shoots out of his tip into the condom, filling it with his spunk. He repeats profanities over and over as he rides out his sexual high, knowing that was the best one he’s ever had in his life.

They lay holding one another for the time being afterward, just enjoying the feel of the other’s body, and listening to their heartbeat. Eventually, though, once Harry goes soft, he has to pull out, and molds his lips to hers while doing so, swallowing her groans.

“Who would’ve thought,” Harry begins a new conversation, tossing the used condom in the trash beside her bed, and lays on his side while tracing the pads of his fingers over her stomach, “that if I didn’t need to take a piss and end up eavesdropping on you and Wilma, none of this would’ve happened.”

The thought saddens Y/N, and she punches his arm to show her disapproval. “I would’ve told you! When I was like 40.”

Harry’s lips curve up in a smile. “You would’ve made me wait that long? Selfish little thing.”

“I know,” she cuddles into his chest. “You would’ve been with your wife and kids, and I would’ve just shown up on your door step, confessing my love to you.”

A loud roar leaves Harry’s body, laughing maniacally. “What about your husband and kids? You would’ve left them?”

“I wouldn’t have a husband or kids; I’m too loyal to you.” She peers up at him with humorous eyes.

“So, you’re saying m’not loyal?” He pretends to be offended. “Tha’s quite mean of you, baby.”

“Oh, hush.” Now it’s her turn to laugh. “You know I’m just joking.”

“Better be,” he nips at her jaw, “’cause I love you a whole lot. And I don’t ever want you to forget.”

Y/N’s absolutely certain she won’t.

#FUCKING YEEHAW #I WROTE THIS IN THREE FUCKING DAYS T H R E E #HOW THE FUCK #I AM SO PROUD OF MYSELF WOWIE ANYWHO PLEASE ENJOY #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic

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genevievemd · 3 years ago

Note

Hi Sara! Ready to shake things up? let's play:

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

I don't think you understand how excited I am about this round. This is GENIUS BREE! GENIUS!

I'm setting my answers after Miami but before he quits, because the pining was just too good.

Also, he doesn't have any other nicknames for her at this point, other than Gen and Rookie. G is a special one that happens in book 2, so... you didn't need to know that, but I'm telling you anyway.

Okay on to the fun.

For Both

1. When I first saw them, I thought__________

Ethan: Remind me why we're doing this? Gen: Cause they asked nicely and I also asked nicely? Ethan: Right, fine. *clears throat* When I first saw Genevieve, I thought she was a decent enough doctor. Gen: *giggles* You called me amateur! Ethan: You were. But still a good doctor, and you proved me right. Gen: *blushes* When I first saw Ethan, I thought he was an ass and really, really attractive. Ethan: I'm sorry, what? Gen: That can't be surprising to you. Considering the other night... Ethan: Right. Right.

2. What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Gen: Christ. He says it all the time. Ethan: I do not. Gen: Yes, you do. What's mine? Ethan: You're far more crass than I am. Gen: I am not! Ethan: Yes you are. You alternate between shit and fuck pretty frequently. Gen: ... you're not wrong.

3. Quick: What color are their eyes?

Gen: Blue. Ethan: Emerald. Gen: You could just say green. Ethan: I could have.

4. Three people at work your coworker hates?

Gen: *snickers* Easy. Dr Richards, the anesthesiologist. Dr Toussaint and Dr Calais. Ethan: I don't hate -- Gen: You hate them. Ethan: *sighs* Fine. Genevieve doesn't hate anyone, I don't think she's even capable of that. Gen: That's sweet. Ethan: It's true. There's not a hateful bone in your body, Rookie. *They smile at each other*

5. What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Ethan: Gen refers to use anything other than a black pen. If there's not one at the desk, she'll search for one. Gen: I can't tell if you're saying that as something strange or endearing. Ethan: Endearing, although in the beginning of our... friendship I found it strange. Now it's... endearing. Gen: Oh... Ethan: I'm almost afraid of your answer. Gen: Does pinching the bridge of his nose all the time count? Cause he does it whenever he's mad, or annoying, or frustrated. It's cute. Ethan: Don't say cute. Gen: I could say a different word, but I don't think that would be appropriate. Ethan: *blushes*

6. If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

Ethan: Your surgeon friend, Lahela. Or that scrawny one. Gen: Landry? Gross. No. Never. He's not my type. Ethan: What is your type, surgeons? Gen: *leans over and whispers* No, you. Ethan: *clears his throat* Genevieve. Gen: Ethan's crush would be Harper. Or Nurse Sarah. Ethan: No, on both. I don't have crushes. Gen: Not even on me? Ethan: Genevieve. Gen: Fine, fine.

Never Have I Ever:

1. Come into work hungover

Gen: No. Ethan: Absolutely not.

2. had a fistfight

Gen: Nope. Ethan: No. Gen: Yes. You punched Declan Nash. Ethan: *looks smug* Yes, I did, but that wasn't a fight. He never had the chance to hit me back. Gen: Okay, sure. Whatever you say.

3. been kicked out of a bar

Gen: Unfortunately. Ethan: What? You? Gen: Yeah, once in college. My sister, Natalie, came to visit... I may have jumped up onto a table to dance and it got us kicked out. Ethan: I'm surprised, Rookie. I didn't think you were the type. Gen: Have you? Ethan: Of course not.

4. gotten a tattoo

Ethan: No. Gen: Yes. Ethan: *looks over at her shook af* You... have a tattoo? Gen: Yeah, but it's hidden. Ethan: Where? Gen: I'm not telling. Ethan: Why, because 'a girl's gotta have some secrets.'? Gen: Precisely.

(it's on her rib cage, hidden by the band of her bra. He finds out after the first dirty 30 in ch 15)

5. broken someone’s heart

Gen: I don't think so. Ethan: *looks at Gen subtly* Yes.

6. been in love

Gen: I thought I was once, but no. Ethan: Never.

For Gen:

1. Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Gen: Professionally, leading the team still, maybe writing another book. Personally... I don't know. As long as he's happy then whatever is in store for him in the next five years is good for me.

2. What do you find the most impressive about him?

Gen: His mind, for sure. That's what inspired me to become a doctor. He's so smart, it's incredible. The amount of things he knows, and he's always trying to learn new things. It's impressive. And attractive.

3. Last thing he texted you?

Gen: *laughs* He hates texting, he always gets so mad when I text him. But, the last thing he texted me was asking to meet him at Derry's for coffee, to talk about Naveen. And before that was when we were in Miami.

4. If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

Gen: Yes. Without hesitation. I know my answer should be no, he's made it pretty clear that a romantic relationship would never happen between us, regardless of how we feel... but if he asked, I'd say yes.

For Ethan:

1. Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in her personal life?)

Ethan: Professionally, being an incredible doctor, inspiring young minds like she claims I have. She'll be on the diagnostics team, for sure. Whether she wins the fellowship spot or not, she'll be there. Personally... still friends with her group, and hopefully, with someone who loves her. She deserves that, deserves to be with someone who can give her everything she wants in life.

2. What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Ethan: Her intelligence. Physically... her smile. She's beautiful when she smiles.

3. Last thing she texted you?

Ethan: A... meme, is that what they're called? Some ridiculous picture with words that was supposed to be funny. It wasn't.

4. If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Ethan: She won't know what I've said, correct?... If Genevieve ever asked me out, as much as I say we can't be together, I know I'd say yes. It's unethical, and potentially damaging to her career, but... if I ever have the opportunity to be with her, like that, my answer would be yes.

BREE THESE WERE AMAZING! AMAZING. Please do this again, maybe after chapter 11 of book 2 next time. For the FEELS

#asked and answered #ethan x gen #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #the newlywed game #messrprongs

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jjaeong · 4 years ago

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Rest Easy My Love, I’ll Always Be Your Favorite Girl.

Series: KPOP Girl Group: 이달의 소녀 (LOONA).

Pairing: Jung Jinsol & Orbit Female Reader.

Summary: Jung Jinsol had always loved her group’s fans, every single one of their supporters that she had met were all lovable—no matter if she was their favorite member or not. But among the several new faces she’d seen in their online meet & greets, a particular girl who Jinsol had always used to frequently see in their fan sign events had made the list for the meetup. In which Y/L/N Y/N was just like any other Orbit, living her life when she earns a scolding from her bias for not meeting up as much as they used to, along with Y/N receiving an unexpected gift with her signed copy of their album.

“Is that you Guppy? Ah, I can’t believe you’re trying to hide—I can see you clearly from way over here!”

You covered your face in embarrassment as the girl’s voice boomed through the speakers of the venue, with your body leaned to the side in attempt to conceal yourself further—though you could distinctly hear several fans beside you snickering and trying to call for the member’s attention. At this point, you could only wonder about what you’ve done in your past life to deserve such an oddly close relationship with your idol—along with the fact that she had never seemed to have changed with how she treated you since your second fan sign event.

But the idol didn’t seem too concerned about her interaction with you as she sat back down on her chair, placing her mic on the table with a grin set on her lips while fixing the blanket on her lap. You could only breathe in a relieved sigh when you sat back up to watch your favorite member fiddle with her mic, how she looked completely as if she belonged in the spot light—a soft smile on her lips as she scanned the crowd carefully and gave a few poses for the cameras that were directed at her along the way. The sight had always seemed to have strike a meaningful flashback to all of the other fan sign events you’ve met her in, but one particular fond memory would hit harder than the others—and it happens whenever you’d lock eyes with Jinsoul from your chair as you waited for your turn.

It was the first fan signing event you’ve attended after deciding that you had finally wanted to meet her in person.

A huge part of you wished that you had been there from the start, but you’ve only started to become their fan around Odd Eye Circle’s Mix & Match promotions—it wasn’t that late but still, you could’ve been there for her very first fan signing event. But the regretful thoughts were quick to wash away once you’ve entered the room, finding the girl sitting there in between Kim Lip and Choerry as she donned a vest in your favorite color—looking exactly the same in real life as in her music videos. And if that wasn’t enough to knock the breath right out of your lungs—she was even more ethereal once you were sat in front of her, a cheesy grin set on her lips as she leaned on the desk to scan your face thoughtfully.

“Hello! I’ve never seen you before.”

“You’re my favorite girl.”

And just like that, as much as the memory was special moment—it was also one of the most awkward encounters you had ever had in your life, with you blurting the words out as if you’ve only meant to say it in your head for it to only come right out of your mouth. You could still feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as Jinsoul sat in front of you, blinking while Choerry and Kim Lip turned to look at the two of you with the biggest smirks plastered across their lips.

“I see.. Alright then, who exactly am I writing for?” Jinsol popped her pen cap open, looking back down on your album with a smile still playing on her lips before she noticed that you weren’t replying—making her look up at your flushed features expectantly as you debated what you’d want her to write. Through your blushing state, you told her to just write the initials of your name which made her raise a brow but then deciding to just do it anyway before drawing an emoticon with it’s tongue sticking out—finishing the signature with a bunch of hearts around your initials before she looked up to find you just staring down thoughtfully at the album in her hands.

You didn’t even catch your idol’s endearing gaze set on your shy features even as you moved onto your time with Kim Lip, who seemed to be easier for you to talk to just like Choerry—but the girl kept teasing you which made you sit through your entire meeting all flustered and charmed at how beautiful she was inside and out. The first fan signing event went along with Jinsol’s gaze from your peripheral vision whenever you refused to look her straight in the eyes, and even as they left—she turned around to give you a shy wave which sent your heart summersaulting inside of you.

And with the second fan meeting, it was indeed the last confirmation you needed before choosing the girl as your favorite artist out of anyone out there.

“No, I’ve thought of a name for you—not that I think that it’s better than your initials but..” even before she could tell you what exact it was that she named you, Jinsoul quickly scribbled her chosen name for you under your initials that were written by Heejin. A satisfied grin set on her lips as she leaned back to stare at her art which made you lean over to find the word “구피” written on the cover with a small fish drawing at the end, making you tilt your head in confusion before looking back up at the beaming idol in puzzlement. The moment you’ve left the venue and sat in front of your computer, you quickly typed the name in the search bar to find it’s meaning—only to find that it was a fish, most commonly known to be the “Rainbow Fish”.

And also, one of the very few fish that you can have in the same aquarium as a betta fish.

Actually, it was the most optimal fish to be in the same space as a betta.

That night, you leaned back on your chair as you stared at the signed album in a completely dazed state—thinking about how Jinsoul didn’t just pick a simple nickname for you.

But your favorite girl gave you a pet name.

And now there you sat in LOONA’s nth fan meeting, still feeling the same exact nervousness from your first event as you watched the chair in front of Heejin slowly become unoccupied—the fan moving to meet Hyunjin as you were motioned over by their manager to occupy the recently vacated seat.

“Y/N! You’ve dyed your hair, it really suits you—ah, it’s your favorite color. Of course it’ll fit you.” Heejin didn’t even have to ask your name as she scribbled it down on the cover, making it a bit smaller—knowing that Jinsol would always somehow write her name for you at the end.

“Don’t you ever get tired of Jinsoul-unnie? Have you ever thought of going to our fan signs for another member—like me, maybe?” Hyunjin teased which made you squirm in your seat in no time and Heejin laughing loudly next to her, hitting her best friend with both hands while Hyunjin leaned over the table to stare at you in anticipation.

“Ah! I knew it was you! Your hair looks so pretty—I bet Jinsoul would love it too! But what about that post of yours, the one where you were trying to convince people to stream Hyunjin’s ‘Around You’ MV—how’d that go?” Haseul’s eyes twinkled as she remembered what you told her in the last event—after she asked you what you’ve been doing since the meeting before, to which you just scratched the back of your neck at before replying that you suppose only time will tell.

Yeojin stood from her spot to compare heights with you—which she always had done every fan sign after she had the idea that you grew taller every fan meeting—and with Vivi reminding you to bring extra layers on the next venue because she heard that the place had a history of a malfunctioning air conditioning system. You’ve barely finished speaking to Vivi when you heard a mic being tapped from the speakers, Jinsol’s low voice checking if her mic was on before she leaned over to peek over to you while you nodded along to Vivi’s gentle words.

“Y/N! Hurry up!”

Kim Lip cackled next to the older member as you side-eyed the impatient blonde who was now impatiently fiddling with her mic, turning to look at the fan that previously sat in front of her—seated in front of Choerry while the younger OEC member giggled at the pouting blonde. Jinsol had just finished speaking to the next fan that was right before you when she started to whine like a child that wanted your attention as you sat in front of Kim Lip, leaned over as the member reached over to pat your head once you told her you’ve finished the work you’ve mentioned before that you were stressing over.

“You’ve worked hard, our Y/N~”

“Our!? Hey! She's here for me!” Jinsol taunted Kim Lip who just smiled at you as if the needy member didn’t exist, to which you could only smile apologetically to the OEC Leader at before standing up from your seat to look at a smug looking Jinsoul who was now leaned back on her chair—arms crossed and a brow raised as she attempted to look intimidating after all the whining she had done previously.

“You dyed your hair without asking me first? And here I thought I was special.” you grinned at the girl before playing along, glancing down at the colored strands of your hair before humming and looking up in thought.

“Oh? It was spontaneous, I didn’t think you’d be this much against it. I could always dye it back if it bothers you that much..” Jinsol snorted before leaning on the desk to pop her pen cap open, all while keeping direct eye contact with you as she smirked.

“No, I just asked why you didn’t tell me before you had it done—I didn’t say that I didn’t like it.” you dryly laughed at her statement which made her break from the character she had seemed to be playing, making you reach over to push the album over to her so she could get her signature done—you were only interacting with borrowed time, after all. But Jinsol, as always didn’t let it get to her—but instead, she grabbed ahold of your wrist before you had pulled it back from the table. Quickly drawing a silhouette Guppy fish on the back of your hand and positioning her hand to start signing your album until a manager behind her tells her to let go of you—which she did but not before looking up to frown at the person and mumbling things under her breathe as you laughed.

“Oh, I went to the Ocean Park with a friend the other day and I got you something.” you rummaged through your bag that had kept different kinds of gifts for each member, remembering well enough to not go over the top after Jinsoul had teased that you’ve practically attended their fan signs more than they have—that it was enough to see you continuing to be a loyal fan since your first event—but you couldn’t help but not pick the gift up, considering that it wasn’t everyday that you’d visit an Ocean Park right?

And it was also as if a higher power had willed it, out of all the sea creatures in the gift shop—there was only one stock left of what you’ve picked up as a gift for the girl.

Jinsoul’s look of disapproval at your mention of a gift turned into a soft gaze at the sight of the little plush rainbow Guppy fish dangling in your hands as you beamed at her, the idol’s heart warmed at the thought of you being outside and just taking a moment to remember her in the midst of your everyday life. She then reached over to take it from your grasp just before you pulled another plush keychain—a more familiar type of fish in Jinsoul’s eyes, making the girl look at you expectantly as you eyed the two keychains.

“I didn’t know if you’d want the Guppy, or the Betta so I just got both of them. They’re yours—”

“Keep that one,” Jinsoul quickly snatched the Guppy keychain from your hands, a shy smile on her lips as she continued to look down at the accessory in hand—completely disregarding your stunned features as you held up the Betta keychain between you two, “I like my Guppy.”

“Ah.. Great, good to hear.” you dragged, watching Jinsoul lean back to look around for a manager before she sneaked the item in her coat pocket and met your eyes again, an appreciative look set on her features.

“You’ll be here again next time, right?” the blonde had always asked the question, at this point you wondered why she continued to ask after your meeting even though you’ve never missed a single one since your second one—but as you’ve continued to tell her that you will, every single time, you’ve realized that it was just the idol’s way of telling you that no matter what happened, no matter how big they’d get or where life leads you.

She’ll always be there, as your favorite member—until the next time you’d meet.

“Of course, Jinsoul. I promise to work hard again this week if you do the same.”

“I promise.”

And so the fan meeting had ended, the girls had directed warm smiles and waves at the crowd—making a point to find you in your seat and mouth a quick goodbye just before Jinsoul smiled at you, disappearing into the exit as the staff started directing how everyone would leave the venue.

What you didn’t expect however, was that fan meeting being the final face-to-face meet & greet you’re going to experience with the girls, the anguish that had you sulking for weeks after failing to attend the last event they had due to a sudden change of schedules in your classes—your professor announced that you’ll be having a test at the time of the meet & greet—and your part time work in a local coffee shop had also needed your assistance that day. It was practically the busiest day you’ve ever had since your routine of going to LOONA’s events, the day being something that you wish had never come to but what would you have done? The coffee shop was your only way of saving up money for the seats—and you were so close to finishing your degree in Humanities, it was just one day right? What could possibly go wrong?

A sudden influx with the case of a particular disease that had caused a pandemic to happen.

That’s what happened.

It was all downhill from there, you were balancing your university life in the cyberspace from your bed room condominium—all while feeling the burden of the sales dropping at the coffee shop you were working in which might put you in the list of workers they’d lay off. The situation that had unfolded before you had your mental state plummeting in no time, it was as if you were sitting on the edge of the cliff as you’ve lived through yet another day of getting up from your bed—turning on your computer, attending classes, leaving for work.. It was all robotic, and you absolutely despised it.

A few months had passed with you just trying to adjust to the circumstances, without thinking about anything else—at your own pace, as they’d like to call it—you started communicating with your friends again, life seemed to have became a bit brighter than how it was just before the pandemic had happened.

It wasn’t the best, but you could at least bear it better than the first few months.

You were writing down notes one night and your hand had managed to knock over a mug that you’ve filled with your pens, the contents spilling on your carpet to which had you quickly reaching over to collect the pens—but not before your eyes connected with a familiar keychain dangling from the zipper of your guitar bag. Looking up to your shelf and finding the several LOONA albums that had been displayed on it—the Orbit light stick, the photocard file folder, the Jinsoul album sat in full view next to the 12:00 album you still bought even if you never listened to it or tuned in with them at all.

You were in so much pain yet you still managed to buy the merchandise for when you were ready to come back.

But the Betta keychain was enough for you to go to their website and give the online meet & greet a shot.

“Woah! Look who it is—ah Jinsoul-unnie is going to be so surprised.. How have you been Y/N? Where have you been!?” Heejin lowered her voice when she spoke your name, you sighed before telling her things didn’t go as well as you’d hope but it all paid off as you were finally back on track.

“..Really, it sucks that this had to happen but—what can we do right? As long as we’re here, we still have a chance of making up for the time we’ve spent alone instead of making great memories with everyone..” Olivia Hye gave you a reassuring smile as you nodded to her words in understanding.

“Give me your address—I’ll sneak you a slice of Heejin’s Cheesecake when she makes some again. It’s really tasty! I really couldn’t stop myself..” you laughed at Hyunjin’s sulking expression on the screen.

“Cookie Run! Cookie Run!” Gowon started chanting as you looked at her in confusion, making the girl burst out into a fit of giggles before she passed the phone to Haseul who practically shrieked at sight of you on the screen. You’ve passed through the surprised members until finally being handed onto your favorite member who was just the second to the last member you were going to interact with—to which Jinsoul didn’t seem to have seen your face the first time as she was plugging her earphone through the headphone jack until she had finished, eyes widening before breaking into a full smile but then quickly masking it with a scowl.

“Hey! You think you’re so brave to come here after I haven’t seen you in months!? What do you think you’re doing, huh Y/N!?” Jinsoul shouted through her receiver, making you pull one of your earplugs out as you winced before giving the girl a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I know. I know it’s been a while—it’s just..” you trailed off, trying to think of a way to properly explain the situation you were in without trying to make it sound as if you’re guilt-tripping the girl for shouting at you. The now dark-haired girl didn’t take a second before she shook her head, waving it in front of her dismissively as if hinting that she was just teasing.

“I know, this pandemic is the worst.”

“Yeah but I still think I could’ve at least tried to listen to your new album—”

“Y/N, you can listen to that anytime. The girls and I will always be here once you feel like you’re comfortable again. It wouldn’t make you any less of a fan if you take time for yourself, you know?” you frowned at the idol’s words as she gave you a dorky smile and pulled the camera in a close angle to her face, making you crack a smile and the girl giggle.

“But I heard that Heejin’s arms are the hot topic in our Voice performances these days, something about when they make the tree pose while Yves is dancing I think.”

“Oh? I wonder what that’s about.”

“And Hyunjin wearing her Apple watch to our stage—”

“No, she didn’t..” you gasped as Jinsoul laughed before the idol sighed, staring at you on the screen—almost as if longingly—until her eyes lit up and she pointed a finger to her hair.

“I also got my hair dyed!”

“I wouldn’t have guessed!”

“Y/N!” Jinsoul pouted as you laughed, resting your chin on the palm of you hand as you hummed—actually letting the black shade sink in.

“Not bad..” you dryly complimented the idol, teasing her further which made her groan.

“I’m your favorite!”

“You are, and I was kidding—of course you look pretty, you always have.” you could hear Kim Lip telling Jinsoul that it was her turn which made the girl panic, looking down at your photo album and writing down quickly.

“I missed you, just come back when you feel like yourself again—alright Y/N?” Jinsoul practically started rapping, slamming her pen on the desk as she finished signing over her picture and pulling the camera closer to show you the usual Guppy she’d drawn over your name—and now next to hers this time—before directing the camera back to her pointed look.

“Don’t stress over it! Work hard but always make sure to check up on yourself—take care of yourself,” Kim Lip seemed to have grabbed ahold of her arm as the phone shook in her hold, a smile breaking on Jinsoul’s lips as she resisted the members hold and struggled to keep the phone in her hand, “I love you! I’ll always be your favorite girl! See you later, my Guppy!”

As she passed the device to Kim Lip, you and the member just burst into a fit of laughter practically half of the time you were supposed to be talking—but you couldn’t help it as Jinsoul kept leaning over to tell you that she loved you throughout the final member’s meeting. Once the meet & greet had ended, you felt the heavy weight that had set on you before the meeting vanish—the thought of the possibility that the older girl wouldn’t have treated you just as she had always did scared you so much that you started sobbing silently to yourself in your empty room, clutching the Betta keychain in hand while hugging your knees against your chest.

After the meeting, you scrambled to grab one of the few versions of the 12:00 album and before you know it—you started bawling your eyes out once Universe started playing through your speakers.

“Make it happen to you, make it happen to you.”

The days ahead seemed brighter after the online event, with you walking home a few weeks after—the album playing on repeat but you’ve also shuffled it some time to their entire discography—when you were called by the receptionist in the lobby for a package, which you could only hope was from the meet & greet a few weeks ago. So you hurried to get into your room to unpack the box and open it to find out that it was indeed the photo album from the online event—on top of another box with a striking shade of blue. The idea of it being from your idol made your hands shake as you reached over to retrieve it, finding it odd how it seemed to be light in weight but also had a hefty amount to it.

Pulling off it’s lid, you were greeted by a see-through box of what seemed to be small LEGO bricks with a manual underneath it, a tiny crocheted red bear, all on top of a brown wool plaid scarf and a baby blue sweater. You looked around the box to find anything else attached to it—and soon enough you found yourself reaching under the box to grab a blue envelope from under the container, opening it and unfolding the paper for your insides to flutter just as it used to before the fall of your mental state.

“Dear Y/N (My Guppy),

I’m sneaking these extra things in hopes that the staff won’t notice, but I thought you’d like them because while I was going through the same months as you were—these were the things that had brought me a sense of comfort, it took my mind off things and I thought that maybe it’ll work for you too!

Because Y/N had always seemed to have me on her mind in days when we don’t see each other—just as she had always been in mine! You can count on that!

Anyway, the LEGO set turns into an orange tabby cat (like in Hyunjin’s music video ㅋㅋ), the crocheted bear was made by me (you should also try crocheting, it takes some time to get used to it though), and the baby blue sweater is just one of mine. Haseul seemed to have caught up to my plan and told me to give you the wool scarf that matched her shirt? I don’t really know, she must want to match something with you too after she asked me about your keychain on my bag once.

But Y/N! You’ve been taking care of yourself lately, right? Just like I told you to? I just hope this simple gesture would brighten your day, because I am still your favorite girl right?

Ah, Y/N, I don’t know what else to say. I always want to tell you so many things but our time had always been so short, and now that I have the opportunity to write it down..

I missed you.

And I love you.

I’ll keep being the Jinsoul that Y/N looks up to dearly because I know that one day, we’ll see each other again and we can continue with our jokes and ask about how our weeks had been (maybe I should start asking our manager if I can just give you a reserved ticket every time). So you take really good care of yourself until then, alright? I’ll be waiting, Y/N, until we finally meet again.

No matter how long it’ll take, okay?

Rest easy, my love.

I’ll always be your favorite girl.

From,

Jung Jinsol (Your Betta)."

An extra GIF because I love how Jinsoul loves us and I live for Kim Lip's embarrassed reactions every time anything remotely awkward happens in front of her lmao. And yes you've read through this correctly—it's a one shot~

I've basically done so many things for the past few days, I think it's what people call overstimulating? But as that was happening, those allega—tors, yes the alligators with 10 and 2. I hate how we got those after we literally were celebrating over the Haseul pic and Orbit ring message.

(I also had another writer's block moment with The Heiress but don't worry, I can see their characters again after listening to my inspo music for that series—which got me side tracked when it got to a brighter tone song and made me write this Jinsoul one shot for practice again.)

And I thought of a cute Choerry plot~

Music really gets you in a mood.

But the color correction post is coming up after this—I just want you guys to have a feel of how I envision the scenes, it might be just a bit of light tweaking and etcetera but it really does make a difference in triggering my writing mood.

Oh and if you're wondering if I'll ever make a girlfriend type oneshot/series—even I am as well, I like the idea that you could think that in the end you'll end up together or if you've been together from the start.. The underlying meanings fascinate me so much I do not have words for it.

I'm easing into this again, alright I'm going to go now but I'll be back with more stuff.

..If I don't get pulled into finishing my Little Nightmares DLC before starting on the second one.

Also, yes that was me plugging Hyunjin's MV because I love her and I love her underrated solo.

Laters,

JJ.

>ovc: loonatheworld (171212)

https://youtu.be/eUeFUBy40ow

youtube

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kozumekenza · 3 years ago

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house of memories :: one

:: kageyama tobio x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::

:: taglist: open :: wc: 1.6k ::

the last you had heard of kageyama tobio, he was following his grandfather’s footsteps and leaving you behind to join the syndicate. a chance meeting throws him back into your life, along with all of the memories.

tw: alcohol, guns, clubs, profanity

The atmosphere in the room is dark, the damp scent filling your nose. There’s a door in front of you, a small window spilling light from the hallway into the square room. Approaching it slowly, you push it, only to open it into another dark room. This one is different; there’s a young boy sitting in the corner. He looks disheveled, black hair tangled and thin body shaking. You come closer to ask him why he’s here, why you are here, but when he looks up, he disappears.

Spinning to the door you came in through, you see his blue eyes gazing through the small window, taunting you. You push the door, finally spilling out into the hallway. The boy is at the end, about to turn the corner, looking back at you, seemingly asking you to follow.

You do, running to catch up, but the hallways are winding, with sharp corners and countless turns making you run in large circles. The boy is constantly just out of reach; every time you get close, he’s gone before your eyes. You’re tired of running, tired of following, tired of trying to catch up, but you know, somewhere in your brain, that he is your goal. You have to find him, have to help him, regardless of how unattainable he seems.

When you wake in the middle of the night in your unlit bedroom, you’re gasping for air and shivering, his presence in your dreams making you uneasy.

---

Kageyama Tobio runs a hand through his hair and tosses the glock onto his desk. He’s tired, so tired, but the night is far from over. The underground of Tokyo is just waking up, and he has work to do.

He opens the locked drawer in his desk with his thumb, the sensor beeping and lighting up green. He searches for the only thing that can calm him down on nights like these: a singular photo, edges crumpled from how often he holds it, the creasing disrupting the subjects from how often it is folded, tucked away in the pocket of his suit jacket.

The tears that appear in the corners of his eyes are ignored, as they always are. The photo is once again folded and tucked into his pocket. He does not dwell on the subjects of the photo; he has done enough of that in the past. He can recreate every detail of the picture in his mind, from the way only one of his shoes is tied, to the pattern and type of flowers on the girl’s dress.

The door to his office is knocked on, and he unlocks it from a switch on the underside of his desk, allowing his second in command to walk in.

Kageyama Miwa drops a file on his desk, and steps back to cross her arms and peer down at him. Even all these years later, his sister is the only one who can read him, who can make him feel small.

“This week’s report,” she gestures to the file, “but how long are you going to keep this up? It’s been four years, Bi.”

Miwa is also the only one who calls him anything other than Master or Sir Kageyama, but he doesn’t know why she has to stick with his childhood nickname.

He looks away, even though she’ll read everything on his face regardless. “Why does it matter? It’s not hurting anyone.”

“It’s hurting you.” He looks back at her, eyes blazing, ready to argue, but she cuts him off. “It’s hurting you, to know what she’s up to. Even if you say it isn’t, even if it’s only you and I who know about it, it’s hurting you.” Kageyama lets his mouth fall close, harsh words dying on his tongue. He hates when Miwa is right.

She comes closer, bending down to give him a half-hug and ruffle his hair. “You need to let her go, Bi.”

“I know.” He does know, but it’s hard.

“I’ll help you, if you need it. You know I’m always on your side.”

“I know.” He knows this as well, better than anything else. If there’s anyone who will always be there for him, it’s his sister.

She holds her hands out, and he grabs them, allowing her to pull him up and take some of the weight off of his shoulders, if only for a few seconds. “C’mon, we have work to do.”

---

The line to get inside the club is long, and upon seeing it, you groan. You should’ve known that everywhere would be packed on a Friday. You turn away, ready to keep walking until you reach another neon sign offering dancing and alcohol, but your best friend stops you with a hand on the wrist.

“C’mon y/n, we’re going here.”

“Do you not see the line?” You scoff at Hana’s pleading voice. “There are a dozen other clubs on this street, we can go to one of those.”

Her grin is nearly maniacal as she reaches into her clutch to pull out a thin black card. “The guy I slept with last week has a membership here, and he gave me his second card. We just have to wave this, and we’re good to go.”

You’re grinning now, too. Leave it to Hana to use her flings to her advantage. This isn’t the first time she’s done something like this, and you doubt it will be the last. She pulls on your wrist, dragging you to the empty VIP line. The bouncer looks at the card and the name on it, and it appears her latest fling does in fact have a membership, because he whispers to the bouncer next to him, and less then a minute later, you two are led inside by what appears to be a college-aged girl.

She greets you both with a smile as you bypass the first floor, lit with neon blue lights sporting the club’s name, Shadow. “I’m Yuki, and I’ll be your waitress for the night. Have you two been here before?”

You both shake your head, and she continues, leading you to an elevator. “Well, you’re in luck. The membership you have is of our highest level, and the gentleman on the primary account is one of our most esteemed customers.” Hana shoots you a grin, proud of herself for bagging a halfway decent guy for once, and you shake your head in return, a smile on your face. “You’ll be seated on the top floor, which has a full bar and a private dance floor only for black card members. You’re welcome to explore the entirety of the club, just bring the card with you to regain access to the top floor.” She pauses as an attendant calls the elevator, then steps inside when it arrives. “If you need anything, anything at all, just let me know.”

The doors open, and it’s like stepping into a whole different club. The one up here is significantly classier, accented in a stormy dark blue and granite gray. You arrive on what seems to be the bar and seating area, which is fairly empty, but the sunken dance floor is packed. Yuki leads you to a raised booth near the bar with a perfect view of the entire space.

“This is Toshiro, he’ll be your personal attendant. If you need anything and I’m not around, leave it to him.” She gestures to a man standing next to the booth, who greets both of you with a nod. Yuki leaves, promising to return soon to take your drink orders.

“This place is crazy.” Hana looks around, eyes wide as she surveys the entire place.

“It definitely is. Keep this guy.” You nod to the card, still clutched in her fist, and she grins.

Yuki returns with complimentary champagne and later, with round after round of cocktails. You and Hana are happily tipsy, jumping around on the dance floor, when something catches your eye. There’s a guy at the bar, facing away from you, alone, which in itself is weird, as it seems everyone in the club has a partner (or a few). What really catches your attention, though, is the guy’s wide shoulders and the way his muscles ripple under the dark dress shirt he’s wearing. You tap Hana on the shoulder, promising to be back in a few minutes, and head towards the bar.

You don’t go directly towards the man, instead waiting by another group of people further down. You keep your eyes on him, watching as he appears to have a deep conversation with the bartender. You internally groan, hoping he isn’t already wasted if you’re going to have a chance to take him home. The bartender laughs at something he says and steps back, eyes scanning over you and the group next to you. When her eyes meet yours, something in her face shifts, and she leans back down to whisper something to the man. Something about her seems familiar, but you can’t put your finger on what it is. Half of her shoulder-length hair is pulled back into a low bun, and her sapphire eyes remind you too much of another’s. She pulls back from the man again and approaches you with an inviting smile on her face.

“What can I get for you?”

“Just a martini please.”

“You got it.” She prepares it with the ease of someone who has made the same drink a thousand times, and before you know it, she’s sliding the drink across the bar to you. “What’s your name?”

Normally, you’d be against giving out your name to strangers, but something in her gaze allows you to drop your guard. You give her a wide smile. “Y/n.”

There’s a crash from down the bar, and you turn, martini in hand, to see the man staring right at you, piercing blue eyes making you feel like you were just dunked in ice cold water.

The martini slips from your hand, glass shattering on the floor, as you look into the eyes of Kageyama Tobio.

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hit-em-with-the-four · 4 years ago

Text

Lifetime of Waiting *Chapter 2*

AN: I am so so sorry that this is late! I promised it such a long time ago and I am finishing my semester of school and just started a new job so I’ve been less than a person! Here we go! I’m slowly getting the swing of things!! Without further a do, enjoy!

——————————

Chapter 2

Tessa wasn’t really sure what made her run from her soulmates. Maybe it was her commitment issues after a lifetime of being alone or maybe it was the alcohol. Either way she couldn’t bring herself to face them and so there she was outside of the club waiting for her uber without her coat. The cold New York air was not kind to her and made her regret her decision of leaving the club but it was far too late to turn back. She had made some lame excuse to Anise saying that she was going home to work on some case studies when in reality she just had to leave. As her Uber pulls up she sees the two men, her two men emerge from the club looking worried. She makes eye contact with one of them before getting into her uber and shutting the door.

“Good evening miss, how are you?” The older gentleman asks beginning the ten minute drive back to her apartment.

“I’m great thank you, how are you?” She politely makes conversation with the man until he drops her off at her apartment. She graciously thanks him and exits heading to the front door of her apartment building.

Once Tessa is back in her apartment, she is peeling off her heels and slipping out of her dress before drawing a bath. She cannot seem to get her mind of her two soulmates and how she never got their names. ‘Great, I meet the two im destined to be with and run away before I learn their names.’ She groans internally giving herself grief. From beside the tub her phone is going off.

Anise: I know that excuse was bullshit, now what really happened?

Tessa rolls her eyes and begins to think of an answer that her friend would think was acceptable.

Tessa: I got a notification regarding an assignment I needed to finish. Sorry!

Anise: This conversation isn’t over... btw not coming home! Found my soulmate and spending time with him. Sorry!

Tessa: I’m so happy for you love! We’ll talk when you get home. I want details of course.

Anise: Of course! I’ll let you know periodically how I am and where I am okay? Isabella and Ryan are going to his for the night so you’re alone.

Tessa: Amazing, thank you! Have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do ;)

Tessa shuts her phone off and rests it on the toilet seat lid.

At the club Mat and Tito are both confused as they watch their soulmate run out of there.

“What the fuck just happened?” Mat asks and Tito shakes his head.

“I think we just met our soulmate and let her run away from us.” Tito says running a hand over his face. He had been waiting for his soulmate for 80 years now and let her slip through his fingers. His family was one of the families in which all of them had been cursed with a long life expectancy, Anthony had been the luckiest and was stuck at 18 until the year 2015. Then he had begun to age naturally as a way to find his soulmate. He didn’t understand it fully but his mother had always told him growing up that the world worked in weird ways. Mat and his family were under the same issue. They all must find their soulmates before they can start to age again and Mat was the last one to find his soulmate. His little sister had found hers just a few years prior in her final year of high school, leaving Mat the only Barzal without a soulmate.

“How does this work though? Are we both her soulmate?”

“Yeah, I mean I guess. But how can someone have two?” “I don’t know, but I’m guessing by the way we both reacted she is telling the truth.”

“I mean, yeah there is no reason why she would lie.” “Where the fuck did she go by the way? We need to go after her?”

“Fuck, yeah. She probably left, we should see if we can stop her.” The two men exit the club and are looking around frantically to see if they can find the girl that they’ve been looking for. Anthony sees her out of the corner of his eye and makes brief eye contact before she gets into a car and speeds off.

“She just left.” He huffs watching the car fade from his eye sight.

“What do you mean she just left?” Mat asks.

“She got in an Uber and left. What else do you want me to say?”

“Fuck, so we’ll never see her again.”

“Good chance.” The pair head back into the bar feeling disjointed and defeated.

“What’s got you guys so upset?” Anders asks holding onto a new woman who neither man had seen before.

“We let our soulmate get away.” Mat says slumping down into the booth.

“Why?”

“She ran.” Anthony says with a shrug.

“We don’t even know her name. We were stupid and didn’t ask her name.” Mat runs a hand through his hair and watches the young woman furiously type on her phone. Then it clicks for him, “fuck, you’re the girl that was dancing with her.”

“What was her name?” Anthony asks leaning across the table towards her. She giggles leaning into Anders’ shoulder.

“I don’t know if that’s for me to say boys.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean obviously Tessa didn’t want to tell you?” Anise smiles letting the boys know her name.

“Why didn’t she want to tell us?... wait her name is Tessa?” Anthony asks catching on to her slip.

“Yep....” Anise nods.

“And you are?”

“I’m Anise, pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m Anthony and this is Mat.”

“Nice to meet you Anise.” Mat says politely. Anders pulls her impossibly closer to his side and she places her hand on his knee.

“So will you tell us where she is.”

“Nope, she’ll find you when the time is right. I’m not interfering in fate.” Anise shrugs and the two boys look at her incredulously.

“Why not?!”

“Because fate was telling her to run, I am not going to interfere with her gut. You’ll meet again when you meet again.”

“Well we need to be with her.” Mat huffs gripping at his hair.

“Well, if she doesn’t want you to know where she is, then suck it up. She will come when she wants.” Both boys leave it at that and go to get another beer.

A few weeks go by before Tessa runs into the boys again. She had just finished her shift at the gentleman’s club and was on her way home when she spotted the two men in suits walking out of a classy high rise. She ducks her head and continues to walk right by, hoping that the two boys don’t notice her. She’s almost of their sight when she’s pulled into a hard chest.

“You think you can walk past us and not have us notice you?” A deep, raspy voice growls in her ear. She’s bites back a moan letting her eyes close.

“No, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She stutters.

“I think you do know baby girl.”

“Nope, not me.” Tessa sighs her head tossing back. If anyone saw her they would think she was crazy. But thankfully it was still dark out being 6 am in winter.

Mat drags his fingers up her arm towards her neck and she lets out a soft whimper showing her neck more. ‘Why is my body reacting this way. I haven’t felt this good in a long time.’ She thinks.

“I know you wanna be choked but I don’t think it’s appropriate in public my dear Tessa.” He smirks, lips close to Tessa’s ear.

“How do you know my name?” She asks gulping.

“Anise.” Tessa rolls her eyes and turns around to face him.

“Of course, well you found me. Hi, now what?” She asks pulling her jacket tighter around her body. Both Anthony and Mat were taken back by her reaction. Tessa notices their faces and sighs, “Sorry, I just got done work and I need to do school work and well, I am a little tired.” She yawns rubbing her eyes and the two boys feel their hearts melting.

“It’s okay, she’s the soulmate of our coworker so the night we met she met him and told us your name.” Anthony says from where he was leaning against the building. Tessa gets a good look at the two men and bite her lip. ‘Fuck they look so good.’

“So, since you know my name can I know yours?” She asks.

“I am Mat or Mathew but normally Mat.”

“And I am Anthony, Tito or Beau. Whichever you prefer.”

“Beau, like handsome in French?” Anthony chuckles shaking his head.

“Kind of, but it’s because of my last name. Beauvillier,” Tessa makes a mental note to search him up later.

“It’s nice to meet you both finally, I am able to put a name to your faces. Now to avoid anymore issues I am going to need both of your numbers.” She shrugs.

“Why don’t we drive you home and get you some coffee so you can do your work. At least right now we can get out of the cold.” Mat says smiling at his soulmate.

“I’d like that but I need someone to hold my hands, they’re both super cold.” Tessa whines exaggeratedly and both boys are quick to grab her hands. Hers feel so tiny in comparison to Mat and Anthony’s.

Once they’re in the car, a nice SUV Tessa thanks the boys.

“Here, give me your phones. I’ll add my number.” She smiles.

“Amazing, thank you.” Tessa cheekily puts her name in Mat’s phone as ‘Babygirl 💕’ and just ‘Tessa🌸’ in Anthony’s as she wants him to decide her nickname.

“Thanks.” Anthony smiles leaning over to kiss her head without a second though. Tessa feels a warm feeling spread through her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” He stutters.

“I liked it, don’t worry hun.”

#anthony beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier #tito beauvillier #mathew barzal imagine #mathew barzal #nhl imagines #nhl writing #hit-em-with-the-four-writings

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gra-sonas · 4 years ago

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes Characters: Alex Manes, Michael Guerin, Isobel Evans Additional Tags: Minor Isabel Evans/Gregory Manes, Canon Disabled Character, Soulmates, Handprint Summary:

"Listen, darlin’. I don’t think because I say darlin’ that’s gonna bring you your soulmate. But, maybe I’m wrong, maybe I don’t fully understand and they’re gonna find you, darlin’." - recorded by Cowboy for Airmanes

Michael used to work for an anonymous, queer-friendly sex hotline (going by the nickname Cowboy) while he was in college, and Alex commissioned him to record a message for him while he was deployed. One day, their paths cross.

Alriiiiight, happy Malex Monday! I meant to write a short ficlet, inspired by Vlamis recording a message for a fan, saying darlin’ three times. For reasons unknown, this turned into a 5.5K fic I wrote this afternoon/evening.

This is a soulmate AU, and there’s some handprint stuff going on. And while this is mostly fluff, the fic is rated Mature (I know, *gasp*). Uhm, enjoy?

~*~

When Alex listens to the message Cowboy has recorded for him, he has a hard time (pun intended) keeping quiet and not scream into his pillow. It's a close call. Even though the need to get off is overwhelming, he's careful to move his body into a more comfortable position without jostling the bunk bed too much. He hears Ogden in the bottom bed grumble in his sleep once, but he doesn't wake up. Small mercies.

Alex feels like an hour passes before he can finally wrap his hand around his hard cock and take care of his needs with the tiniest movements. He keeps listening to Cowboys recording over and over again, and he manages to time his orgasm with the final darlin' of the message.

Wow, Alex doesn't want to exaggerate, but he thinks he's never come harder in his life. Cowboy's voice's just doing it for Alex, always, has. But the darlin'? Surefire way to get him off in no time. It's the first night in a long time that Alex sleeps so deep, that not a single nightmare haunts his dreams.

The recording continues to bring Alex comfort and orgasms in the middle of an ongoing war, and he can't help but dream up scenarios where he meets Cowboy one day, and they realize that they are indeed soulmates. A soldier can dream, right?

Months go by and after one fateful and utterly horrible day, the war is over for Alex. He returns home to Roswell via a short stint in Landshut, Germany. Half of his right leg is missing, but they give him a purple heart as a consolation price and a thank you for his service. Not that anyone actually thanks him.

It takes Alex another couple of months until he can walk again without the help of a crutch. He celebrates this newfound mobility freedom at a local bar, the Wild Pony. He's sitting at one of the tables, nursing a beer, when two people occupy the table next to his. A tall blonde woman, and a handsome man with curly hair that spills out under the brim of a black cowboy hat. A cowboy hat. Alex tries not to be too obvious, but he keeps looking at the man every now and then.

He can't hear what they're talking about, their voices a soft murmur, but then someone feeds the jukebox with a dollar, and suddenly the couple has to raise their voices.

"Come on, Michael. Don't be such a sourpuss. I want to celebrate that you're back home. It's been a dull year without you. I've talked to Max, he's promised to be on his best behavior," the woman says.

Michael. "Nice name," Alex thinks. He's just reaching for his bottle to take another sip when Michael answers.

"Ugh, Iz, do I have to come? I'd love to spend an evening with just you, but you know Max, he won't stop nagging me."

Alex freezes. He knows that voice. Intimately (well, in a way). But the man can't be Cowboy, can he? In Roswell of all places? Alex tries to be subtle by moving his chair a fraction of an inch to get a better view at the neighboring table.

He keeps staring and almost jumps up when the woman (Iz)'s phone starts buzzing. She checks the display. "That's Greg, I have to take this call outside. Please don't leave, I'll be back in a minute."

Michael demonstratively takes his hat off and puts it on the chair next to him. He smiles at her. "No worries, I'll still be here. Say hi to your beau and tell him I hope to meet him soon." She grins. "Not sure I should introduce him to you. He's your type, brother dearest."

Alex can't see Michael's face properly, but his voice sounds annoyed. His voice, that Alex is fairly certain, is that of Cowboy, the man of his (sex) dreams. "As if I'd ever make a move at someone who's involved with someone else, let alone someone who's dating my sister, who also happens to be my best friend."

Iz laughs. "Good boy. Now give me a minute, I have to talk to my boyfriend." She leaves.

Alex's hands are sweaty because now would be a good moment to approach the man, but what would he even say. "Hi, you're that guy from the queer-friendly sex hotline, and months ago you recorded a message for me I like to get off to. Nice to finally meet you in person."

Not awkward at all. But he also needs to know what the man looks like. So far, he's only seen part of his face (there seems to be stubble, which Alex approves of) and lots and lots of unruly honey-golden curls. In an unplanned move, he accidentally knocks his beer bottle over and the remaining beer spills all over his table.

"Damn," he mumbles under his breath, patting down the pockets of his jacket in search of tissues to mop up the mess.

Suddenly, there's movement at the table next to him and Michael turns around, a squarely folded piece of cloth (a bandana?) in his hand. "Here, take this."

Alex feels dizzy looking at the man. Not in his wildest dreams did he imagine that Cowboy would look like that, but now? Even if this man turns out to be not Cowboy, Alex will forever have this visual when he plays the darlin' message.

Not the moment to think about that, though. He collects himself enough to say something. "Uhm, are you sure? That looks very nice and clean, I'm sure they have paper towels at the bar."

Michael's smile is almost blinding. "Don't worry about it, it's one of my oldest bandanas, it deserves to die in the most heroic way – drowning in alcohol."

Alex snorts. "Okay, thank you." He reaches for the bandana, and for a second, their fingertips touch. Alex's vision goes blurry and he tries his best to inhale, but there doesn't seem to be enough air to fill his lungs. He gasps.

When he feels a strong, warm hand clapping down on his shoulder, he can suddenly see clear again, his lungs expand without pain, and warmth is flooding his body.

He goes almost pliant under Michael's touch (because of course it's his hand).

"Wow," Michael says, and if that isn't the perfect word to describe the situation.

Alex tries to remember how words are formed. "Do you feel it, too?" Michael just nods. "In Roswell of all places," Alex says dryly.

Michael snorts. "You wouldn't believe how apt that actually is. All things considered."

"I don't know what that means, but I'm sure I'll find out eventually. I mean, I don't want to assume, but I will find out eventually, right?"

"Yes, beautiful stranger, you will. I never expected this to happen to me, but now that it did happen, I want to know everything about you. What's your name, handsome?"

Alex can't believe that this beautiful man is his soulmate, let alone that he found him in this godforsaken town he'd never expected to return to before he lost his leg.

"Well, handsome does have a name. It's Alex. And you are—."

Alex takes a calculated breath before he says "Cowboy," at the same time Michael says "Michael."

They stare at each other. Michael's eyes are wide. "How do you—?"

Alex blushes, and he considers not answering the question for a second, but this is his soulmate asking. "I'm—I'm not just Alex, I'm also darlin'."

Michael's eyes grow impossibly wider, then he bursts out laughing. "Oh my god, that was you? I couldn't stop listening to your message either. It's been very – how can I put this – inspiring?"

"Well, in true Pavlovian fashion, I can promise you that calling me darlin' will get me hard and off in no time," Alex says, keeping his voice low. He should be beet-read, but he's beyond feeling ashamed. In fact, he feels emboldened, and if the glint in Michael's eyes is anything to go by, he's certain there's one hell of an orgasm in his near future.

Before he can put more thought into that possible scenario, Iz returns to the table. She looks at both men and raises an eyebrow.

"Michael, why are you holding hands with this man?"

Michael looks down at their clasped hands, apparently, he doesn't know either when they started holding hands. For a moment, Alex considers letting go of Michael to greet Michael's sister properly, but he can't bear the thought of losing the physical contact right now.

Michael kisses the back of Alex's hand, then he looks up at Iz. "Isobel, this is my soulmate. His name's Alex."

"He's your—Michael! I leave the table for five minutes, and I come back to you having found your soulmate? I didn't even know that we could until recently." She seems exasperated, but then her smile goes soft.

She sits down across from them and looks at Alex. "I'm sorry, Alex, I didn't mean to be rude. This is just a lot to take in. Uhm, I've met with Michael tonight to convince him to come and visit me, and spend time with our brother Max tomorrow. And I haven't been quite honest with Michael."

She squeezes her eyes shut and takes a deep breath. "Michael, Max and I were going to tell you, that we met our soulmates this week. Max bumped into Liz who's in town to visit her dad, and I happened to meet Greg at an event I organized for his school."

Alex perks up. "Greg isn't Gregory Manes, though, right? Teacher at the elementary school up at the reservation?"

Isobel blinks. "How do you even know about him? Oh my god, you're his brother! You're Alex Manes!" Alex nods. Isobel looks at him more closely. "Now that I know, it's obvious, you look so much alike. This is wild. I think I need a drink. You in? Shots are on me."

Alex and Michael look at each other and nod. There are only so many earth- and life-shattering revelations one can handle without being at least a little bit drunk.

Isobel stands up and walks over to the bar to order. The bartender reaches for one of the top-shelf bottles. Well, they have something huge to celebrate, this definitely calls for the good tequila.

Michael nudges him. "So, I know this has already been a lot, but there's something else you need to know about me, but I'd rather tell you about it when it's just the two of us. It's nothing bad, don't worry, I'd just prefer to tell – and show – you in private."

Alex smiles. "Whatever it is, I can handle it. Just real quick before your sister comes back. Does she know about the hotline job?"

Michael shakes his head. "No, she doesn't, actually. I got my engineering degree at UNM, and I picked up the job to make a little extra money for all the things my scholarship didn't pay for, and those requested messages were paid really well. It's been a great job, I was actually quite good at it, too, but now that I have my degree, it's a thing of the past. I don't really mind anyone knowing, but I'd rather this stays our naughty little secret."

"Oh, believe me, I'm not overly eager to tell anyone that your voice has provided me with some of the best orgasms. No need to look so smug, Michael," Alex grouses, but he smiles.

Michael turns his head, his face is very close all of a sudden, and his lips look plush and moist and oh-so-kissable. They look at each other.

"Alex," Michael whispers.

Alex closes the distance between them and then they kiss. Stars align, the universe expands, and Alex knows he's finally home. Not in Roswell, they could be anywhere right now, on this planet, or in another galaxy. No, home is in Michael's arms, in the sweetness of his breath, the sound of his low moans, and the soft touch of his fingers caressing the hair at the nape of Alex's neck.

"Ah, first soulmate kiss. I remember. So intense," Isobel says, and places three shot glasses and a bottle of tequila on the table.

They don't want to stop kissing, but they do. It's the polite thing to do. But it's hard. Alex would rather be alone with Michael. As if he's been reading his mind, Michael leans closer and whispers "One shot, then we leave. She'll understand. But I need to be alone with you."

Alex closes his eyes and inhales deeply in an attempt to calm his nerves. Michael's scent is intoxicating, he smells like leather and rain. Alex wants to drown in the smell. When a cold shot glass is shoved into his hand, he blinks his eyes open again.

"Earth to Alex, are you back with us?" Isobel smirks, but her eyes are kind and understanding.

"Yeah, sorry, it's just a lot to take in, and Michael smells so good. I'm sorry, but can we get this over with? I really need to be alone with him."

Isobel nods. "You know what, why don't you take the bottle home with you, and some time this week, we all meet and celebrate."

Michael nods and picks his hat up from the chair. "Excellent idea. I knew you'd understand." He kisses Isobel on the cheek. "You told Greg though, right?"

Isobel nods. "Yes, he knows. Liz, too. And—," she whispers something into Michael's ear.

Alex thinks he hears Isobel mention a "handprint" (whatever that means) but he assumes they're referring to the thing Michael will tell him when they are alone, so he doesn't ask what they're talking about. It's comforting to know that his favorite brother knows, though. It'll be good to have someone to talk to he trusts implicitly.

They hug Isobel (who also smells like rain, Alex notices), then they head out to the parking lot. Since Michael's currently living at a motel, the decision's easy where to go. They leave Michael's old truck ("don't ask, we've been through a lot together, and I'd never give up on her") at the Pony, and take Alex's SUV instead.

He doesn't live too far from the bar, and they enter his house not ten minutes later.

There's just enough time for Alex to put down the tequila bottle on the dining table before Michael pulls him into his arms. They're still wearing their jackets, and Michael his hat. Before Michael gets close enough to kiss him, Alex nods in the direction of his bedroom.

"There's a very comfortable and very big bed behind that door. We both know where we're headed anyway, and I'd like to take the prothesis off," he says, holding his breath after the revelation. He knows that his soulmate won't reject him because of it, but it's still a very personal thing to disclose.

Michael doesn't even blink, he just smiles and leads Alex to the bedroom. He makes Alex sit on the edge of the bed and kneels down in front of him. Alex's breath catches. Michael takes off his hat and jacket and drops them on the floor to his left, then he turns back to Alex and unlaces Alex's boots.

Alex opens the button and zipper of his jeans, and cants his hips to wriggle them down without having to stand up. He doesn't quite succeed. "Damn, I'm stuck, sorry. I have to stand up again."

Michael shakes his head. "No, you don't. Do you trust me?"

Alex stops and thinks about it for a moment. Does he trust Michael? The simple answer is, yes. He just knows that he can trust Michael. He nods. "I do."

Michael looks at him and holds his gaze, when Alex's butt slowly lifts off the mattress. He gasps, but he keeps looking at Michael. Michael smiles softly. Then he reaches for Alex's jeans and pulls them down, while Alex is floating a few inches above his bed.

Alex's thoughts are racing. He should be scared, his soldier instincts should kick in, and maybe he should fight, but he does none of that. Because he doesn't feel threatened. He feels safe. Michael won't hurt him, that he knows with absolute certainty.

As if by magic, he slowly descends, until he sits on the edge of the bed again. Michael kisses Alex's left knee, then he turns his attention to the prosthetic on his right leg. Alex is about to tell him what to do, when he feels the prosthetic coming off. He groans in relief. He'll have to pace himself and not go entire days without the crutch too often for a couple more weeks.

Michael removes the leg and pulls the liner down to reveal Alex's stump. Alex scrunches his face. Not in disgust of how the stump looks, but he knows how it probably smells. But Michael is unfazed, though. He leans forward and kisses the tender skin of Alex's stump. Alex is close to bursting into tears because of the tenderness of the gesture.

His voice sounds a little wet when he speaks. "I need to take some meds. Would you mind getting them for me from the bathroom cabinet? They are labeled 'evening'."

Michael nods and gets up from the floor. Before he leaves, he presses a soft kiss to Alex's lips. "Thanks for trusting me."

Alex wants to reach for him and tumble backwards with Michael in his arms, but he knows he'll regret not taking his medication, so he doesn't. Thankfully, Michael's back with the pill bottles in a heartbeat, and Alex uncaps the bottle of water on his nightstand and takes his pills.

Meanwhile, Michael toes off his boots, pulls his shirt over his head, takes off his socks, and drops his pants in a heap on the floor. When he looks around the room wearing nothing more than his briefs, Alex pats the free space next to him. "Come here, sit down. I'm ready to listen to whatever you're going to tell me in a minute, I just need you close for a moment."

Michael almost trips over his jeans in his haste to sit down next to Alex. Alex immediately realizes how anxious he is, and somehow that soothes his own nerves. He reaches for Michael's hand and laces their fingers together. Michael's hand trembles, and Alex squeezes it.

"You don't have to worry, Michael. I know you're going to tell me something extraordinary, but I can handle it. I won't reject you. Relax."

Michael snickers. "Well, you could say extraordinary, extraterrestrial would be more accurate, though."

Alex swallows hard, but deep down he knows that Michael's not joking. He squeezes Michael's hand again. "The 1947 crash was real?" Michael can't do much more than nod.

"So, you're a descendent of a group of people not from this earth who crashed here some 70 odd years ago?"

Michael looks at him. "I guess you could say that, although I have to add that I was actually on board of the spaceship."

Alex can't believe what he just heard. "Uhm, okay. You don't look like someone who's well over 70 years old, though. Does your species age at a slower rate? I this a Superman thing? Are you from Krypton? How old are you really?"

Michael laughs. "You're taking this surprisingly well. Uhm, so, depending on how you look at it, I'm either 30 years old, or I'm about 80. I don't think we're aging slower than humans, though. We were actually in stasis in our pods for half a century, and only hatched in 1997."

"You did what now?"

"Oh, sorry, uhm, our stasis pods look like glowing eggs, and we always joked that we hatched. I don't think that's how our people actually procreate, though," Michael explains.

Alex is trying his best to take it all in, but it's a lot. He takes a deep breath. "So, by 'us', you're referring to yourself, Isobel, and your other brother, Max, right? Don't you have parents? What happened to them?"

Michael's face falls, and Alex feels awful for being responsible for it. "We don't know, actually. We don't even know whether we're actual siblings. We were found together after we hatched, mute, wandering the desert. Max and Iz got lucky, they were adopted by a local family. I wasn't quite so lucky. I grew up in the system. But I've always been a bright student, so I was able to get a good education. I had to postpone my plans to go to college after high school because of Isobel for a few years, that's why I only graduated recently. But I have a good job lined up, I'll start next month. So, I'm not a complete failure."

Alex wraps an arm around Michael's shoulder and pulls him into a hug. "You could never be a failure. I don't know much about you, but you're not a failure. You hear me?" He feels Michael nod against his chest.

"Good. Now that the big secret is revealed. What did Isobel mean when she talked about a handprint earlier?"

Michael pulls back and looks at Alex. "You heard that? Well, as I demonstrated earlier, my power is telekinesis. Isobel can influence people with her brain, and Max can heal. What the three of us have in common, is that we can share memories with someone else by putting our hands on them. Skin on skin. It opens some kind of mental connection, don't ask me how it works exactly, but it leaves an iridescent glowing handprint on the other person's skin. It fades after a few days, and the connection shared during the handprint also breaks."

Alex squeezes Michael's hand. "So, you can share memories and emotions, but you won't mind-whammy me?"

"God, no, I won't. I swear. I wouldn't even know how to," Michael says.

Alex turns to Michael and they look at each other. "Okay. I'll sit down on the bed against the headboard. I don't have any medical exams scheduled in the next couple of days. Does the handprint have to be placed somewhere specific?"

Michael looks at Alex with wonder in his eyes. "How are you so fucking calm and cool about this? My entire life – well, since we hatched – I've been worried sick about revealing this secret to anyone and sicking military special forces on us. You are the first person I've ever told, and you're taking it like I told you I have a mole on my left butt cheek."

Alex raises an eyebrow. "You have a mole on your left butt cheek?"

Michael giggles. "Oh my god, I know it's probably too soon to say it not even two hours after we've met, but I love you. You're ridiculous, and hilarious, and brilliant. And I love you." He wipes at his eyes. "And no, I don't have a mole on my left butt cheek. Wanna find out where I have one?" He waggles his eyebrows at Alex.

"You casually mention that you love me, and I'm supposed to play 'search the mole' with you? You are unbelievable. For the record, I love you, too. And I don't care that we only met two hours ago. You're about to put a spooky handprint on me that will tell me everything I need to know."

Alex lets go of Michael's hand and scrambles back on the bed until he sits comfortably, propped up by at least three cushions. He looks down at himself and pulls his shirt over his head and flings it in the general direction of the hamper. He winks at Michael. "Come here, alien boy, tell me your story."

Michael laughs and crawls across the bed until he's next to Alex. He likes what he sees. A smattering of dark chest hair, strong arms, a sculpted torso. Alex is gorgeous, head to toe.

"Is it okay when I put my hand on your chest? Low enough that the handprint won't be visible even if you open the top two buttons?"

Alex nods. "That sounds reasonable. Go ahead."

Michael places his right hand on Alex's chest. Michael takes a deep breath, and suddenly his hand starts glowing red. The palm of his hand is heating up against Alex's skin, but the heat doesn't hurt. They look at each other, and suddenly it's like a gate to another dimension opens.

Alex looks at everything Michael sends his way, he laughs, he sheds tears, he looks in horror at what some of the foster parents did to Michael. He sees Isobel, and another man, Max, most likely, he sees an old man with an eyepatch at a place that looks like a junkyard.

It's not just images Michael shares, though. There are also emotions. Alex can barely handle the loneliness radiating through the connection, the fear of someone finding out, Michael worrying about Isobel, and a million other things.

When they later look at the alarm clock on Alex's night stand, they realize the whole thing didn't take longer than maybe ten minutes, and yet Alex feels like he knows everything about Michael. Not every detail or secret, but he knows Michael now.

It's overwhelming, and terrifyingly wonderful. Alex doesn't know how else to describe it. They lie down next to each other, knees knocking, hands exploring, their mouths almost touching.

"Wow," Alex breathes out.

Michael kisses him. "Yeah," he whispers.

Alex does what he's been dying to do since he met Michael. He runs his fingers through Michael's hair and enjoys how soft the curls feel. Like the finest silk.

"You are incredible, Michael. Thank you for sharing this with me. I'll have a million questions for you in the coming days, and I'm sure you'll also want know more about me, but I need to not talk for a while. Can we do that?"

Michael nods. Alex barely blinks an eye, when they both float up, comforter and duvet getting pulled out from under them, and soon they sink back down into the soft mattress again. "This ability of yours sure comes in handy," Alex praises.

Michael pulls the duvet over them, and Alex is grateful for the heat inside of their little cocoon. "It does. You have no idea what it means to me to being able to use it in front of you."

Alex notices the emotion in Michael's voice and sees tears glistening in his eyes. He wraps his arms around Michael as good as he can and pulls him close. Michael hugs back, and then they just hold each other for a long time. Breathing each other in and trading lazy kisses.

Once their bodies and minds relax, their kisses get heated. They are both hard, their cocks brushing against each other through the thin fabric of their underwear. Alex wriggles his hand between them to wrap it around the tips of their cocks peeking out. There's no time (or room) for finesse. Heat and friction are doing the job for them. Their kisses get more and more wet and sloppy, they pant into each other's mouths, and just moments before Alex is ready to come, Michael looks at him, his pupils blown wide. He presses his hand on the glowing mark in the middle of Alex's chest.

"I love you," he says. A short break, then he adds, "Darlin'."

Alex lets out a guttural sound, something between a scream and a moan, and he comes in hot and almost painful pulses between them. Michael follows only moments later, adding to the mess. But they don't care.

The connection between them is blown wide open, and Michael gasps, when he's receiving memories and emotions from Alex suddenly. An abusive home, his mom leaving, loneliness, gruesome years in the military, the immeasurable pain of losing a limb, Michael feels like he's about to pass out from it, but he holds steady.

Alex took in everything he shared with him earlier, now he wants to take in everything Alex is sharing. It's a lot, though, and when the flood of impressions subsides to a mere trickle, he realizes he's panting and sweating like he just ran a marathon.

Their foreheads are touching, and they cling to each other like they're afraid to let go of the other.

Later, they won't recall exactly for how long they stay like that. At some point, Alex musters enough energy to tell Michael where he keeps a bottle of nail polish remover in his bathroom.

"How do you—,?" Michael starts, and Alex just places his hand on Michael's chest. Michael blinks. "Wow, I think this experience has fried some of my brain cells, of course you know."

Michael closes his eyes and concentrates, but he's not strong enough to make the bottle come to him with his telekinesis. Reluctantly, he lets go of Alex, who grumbles and makes grabby hands at Michael.

"Just a second, sweetheart, I'll be back in no time. Don't go anywhere."

"Har, har," Alex makes. He's slowly feeling like he's fully conscious again. He's about to call for Michael's attention, when the man in question returns from his quest in the bathroom. He's sipping from a plastic bottle he's holding with one hand, and there's a wet towel in his other hand. Bless him.

He hands the towel to Alex (who notices that Michael soaked it in warm water, bless him more!), and he quickly wipes himself down. When he's finished, Michael takes the towel and returns to the bathroom.

When he comes back, he smiles at Alex. "Pajamas, or shirts and sweatpants?" he asks, pointing at the walk-in closet.

"Door on the far left, there's both, pajamas and other comfy clothes. I'll take what you take." He only feels silly for saying something so sappy for a second, because Michael beams like the sun. "Partner look, I like it."

Michael vanishes for half a minute and returns with two pairs of blue sweat pants and plain white shirts. He dresses himself first, while Alex puts on the shirt, then Michael's there to help him put on the sweats. Without being prompted, Michael asks "Your crutches, where are they?"

Alex smiles at him softly. "In the living room, leaning against the wall next to the dining table."

Michael goes to fetch the crutches and leans them against the wall next to Alex's side of the bed when he returns. "Anything else I can get you before we sleep?"

Alex shakes his head. "Nothing I can think of right now. Come to bed, Michael."

Michael smiles, his grin almost devilish. "It'll be my pleasure, darlin'."

Alex is tempted to throw a pillow at Michael. "You're not playing fair, Michael. I'm exhausted, and you know what you saying it does to me. I don't think all the darlin's in the world will be able to make me hard again right now, though."

Michael crawls into bed and under the covers. He pulls Alex close and kisses the tip of his nose. "Don't be sad, sweetheart, there's more than enough time for that in the morning. Unless you have to be somewhere tomorrow?"

Alex shakes his head. "No, there's nothing on my schedule tomorrow. Plenty of time for us to get to know each other with more words. Don't get me wrong, what happened tonight has been the most incredible experience of my life, and I'm grateful that we already know so many things about each other, especially the bad things that are much harder to talk about. But I still want to talk to you."

Michael nods. "We'll do that. Tomorrow. But now, let's sleep. The acetone helped, but I still feel a bit like I was hit by a truck. Big spoon or little spoon?"

Alex thinks about it for a moment. "If you don't mind, little spoon. You're just so warm, and I'm freezing. I'm always up for big spoon duty, though. I want to hold you, too, you know."

Michael's smile is the sweetest, and Alex's heart almost bursts with how much he loves him. "I know," Michael says. "And now, turn around and get comfy."

Alex does, and as soon as Michael's inhuman warmth engulfs him, his eyes start to droop. A moment later the room goes dark, and Alex feels Michael's lips peppering the his neck with little kisses. He pulls Michael's arm closer around himself.

"I love you," he whispers into the dark.

"And I love you. So much, Alex. So, so much. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Michael."

And then, they sleep.

#malex #alex manes #michael guerin #rnm fic #malex fic #my fic #michael vlamis

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