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tuliprry · 2 years

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sunbeam

prompt: ballerina!yn x barista!harry, y/n is a ballerina and harry works at the café in the same building, both have a little crush on each other

warnings: fluff, mentions of ed, christmas

word count: 1.7k

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

the pointe shoes clicked and clacked around her, she was sitting down still wearing her leather split soles with ribbons. most of the girls in this class were more advanced than y/n, this was her fourth month in this ballet class for adults, truth be told the first time y/n walked into the ballet class she was looking for the yoga room, right next door, but the teacher was nice and convinced her to try at least just one class.

so here she is in a pink maillot, pink tights, beige wrap skirt and the beige coloured sole shoe with matching ribbons, her hair is up in a bun with her curtain bangs falling out, the brown warm-up shrug sat on top of her dance bag. outside, london was covered in rain, y/n could shiver just thinking about walking to the tube in this weather, she quickly smiled to herself thinking about getting a latte downstairs from the cute barista.

harry. harry is his name, he has messy curly brown hair, usually partly up with a black clip, he is tall, like way too tall compared to y/n that says she’s 153cm but she’s actually 3cm shorter than that, he is always singing while making orders, y/n thinks he sounds like an angel, she also thinks it’s the most cliché thought she’s ever had.

he has the schedule of the classes on his phone, he likes to know when y/n is coming, his heart fluttered when she came in the other day to work, he peeked a little and asked her what she was doing, he learned that y/n was a photographer and her latest project was women from various ages and their portraits, from a 6 year old to a 81 year old. he was so intrigued, he wanted to be a writer, a poet even but would find himself without a single thought in his mind and a blank page in front of him. so he envied y/n for a hot minute, for being a photographer and a ballerina and for keeping his mind racing thinking of her… most of the time.

the class ended and y/n put her skirt and sole shoes in the dance bag, dressed a pair of white sweatpants, white sneakers and the brown warm-up shrug, holding a big brown coat on her arm, to be only worn once she left the building. the other ballerinas ran outside to smoke, y/n hasn’t been able to befriend none of them, mostly by lack of trying, she liked her own little cosy space and getting out of her shell wasn’t easy. also she doesn’t smoke. or has even tried. the feeling of being out of place is always there, the pointe shoes, the smoking and her maillot being a size extra large.

“if i have to make another special christmas baby jesus toasted white mocha i’m quite literally going to commit a crime so big” harry sighed to his co-worker, charlie, “y’might want to calm down harry, your ballerina is coming downstairs right now”, harry immediately turned around, trying to fluff his hair and accidentally hitting the black clip, “fucking christ”, he whimpered hoping she hadn’t seen his stupid moment. “hello harry” she smiled at him still gripping onto the dance bag. “y/n! i didn’t know you were coming today” liar. “d’ya want your usual? please don’t ask me for a santa inspired drink i’m so tired of those”, y/n just smiled at the man in front of her, he was usually expressive and that was something that got her hooked. “actually, can you make me an oat milk hot cocoa? it looks freezing out and i need a boost before i go on the tube” harry looked to the glass doors to make sure the weather was still shit and then mouthed a small okay.

“y/n i was wondering, would it be okay if we exchanged numbers? i mean, i want to ask you out and fuck i mean-“ harry’s words are slurring in front of her, she’s still drinking her hot cocoa in a heart shaped mug and so is harry, taking his 10 minute break to just make a fool out of himself in front of y/n. “when do you wanna go out?” she says placing the mug back on the table trying to look calm and collected. “are you free tonight?”

harry had never seen y/n out of her ballet clothes, he had tried looking for her on instagram but it seemed impossible having only her first name and knowing she lives in london, he was so eager to see her coming out of the convent garden station, “not nervous shits, not now” he thought to himself, he was leaning on a lamp post, to y/n this was a scene out of a 00s brit rom-com, indulged them so much as a child she now craved a story like that for herself.

speeding up the stairs from the tube, she was wearing a silk pink dress with a square neck and long sleeves, flowing to her wrists, sheer tights and cognac platform mary janes, the same long brown coat from earlier today, on top a light brown shoulder bag, matching her shoes. harry was wearing dark brown pants with lighter brown stripes and a rosy beige shirt with the same light brown stripes, y/n could see him from inside the station, he was adjusting his almost to the feet long black coat and rubbing his hands to try and warm them up a bit.

then he saw her, loose hair with long curls that fell on her shoulders like pieces of a puzzle, walking up to him with a smile on her face, he took close attention to all details about her, the lipstick that matched the dress, her eyeliner that he would swear it has to have taken her forever to do and the pink leg warmers he knew so hell peeking out of her shoulder bag. “hey! can we please walk to the place? it’s freezing and i didn’t have where to sit on the tube to put my leg warmers on”, he was still mind fucked about her presence, she was like a sunbeam on the london dark rainy evening, “hello…. yeah, do you want my help? ..for the leg warmers? i can hold your stuff”, harry felt little, even thought he was 30 centimetres taller than the girl in front him.

harry was on cloud nine learning about this girl, she was also a vegetarian, making his little heart do flutters at a shared love for animals, she has a cat named oli, she thought oli was a boy and named it oliver so y/n changed the name to oli, harry also has a cat, a little patched tabby cat named poppy. “what is speaking to you?” harry asks pointing at the menu, “ummm the fiori di zucca repieni di ricotta sounds too good to pass on, do you wanna share?” his mouth opened, speechless, “you speak italian?” he asked, “yeah i did erasmus in rome!” she said enthusiastically, “i trust you, let’s share then”

the dinner was filled with laugher, lots of sharing their food and drinking really good wine, they even shared a pistachio gelato afterwards, even though it was freezing out and the news had mentioned a possible storm. “do you ever think.. of what you want to do outside of being a barista?” y/n asked, her hand was intertwined with harry’s as they walked outside convent garden market, “oh all the time, i really want to be a writer, a poet. my muse just has been asleep lately, every time i try to write it’s like my mind gets blank” he’s honest, writing has been the last thing on his mind, working part time at the café as well as doing a little freelancer for some newspapers and magazines harry has little to no time to fully write, “it’s a curse being creative harry, i get it. i really do.” they’re walking past the royal opera house and y/n stops, lets go of harry's hand and just stares, as a child it was a dream to be part of the royal ballet and perform right there, instead she takes an adult class with other people that couldn’t attain that dream. she doesn’t resent herself or the dreams she used to have, she loves her life right now, it’s just that little tingly feeling of tiny y/n wanting this so badly.

“what are you thinking about y/n?” harry asked, placing the now lonely hand on her back, gently caressing it, "sorry, i just haven't walked past the royal opera in a bit", y/n turned to harry with an it's okay look on her face and grabbed his hand again, "dance for me", harry blurred out, he didn't really filter his thoughts at this point of the night, he wanted to see her dance so badly his heart was finally speaking over his brain, "right here? in the middle of the street?" y/n is a little perplexed but the idea grows inside of her.

they're now at harry's house, y/n opened spotify on her phone and pressed play on better version by sabrina claudio, this isn't what she usually dances to but she feels free with harry, taking her shoes off, standing barefoot in harry's cedar coloured carpet.

i made the perfect you in my head, cause physically you are the blue print

her hips moved to the rhythm and she found herself repeating what she had been rehearsing fot the last four months in class, harry was mesmerised, not that she was the greatest ballerina in the world but she was to him, he could not get his eyes off of her, following the movement attentively, almost like burning this moment on his brain so he would never forget, the core memory of actually falling in love with this girl

when the song ends, harry pulls y/n to his lap and just whispers sweet nothings in her ear, brushing his fingers through her arms and hair, just enjoying her late night company, he's a hopeless romantic and has been finding the right moment to kiss her and tell, tell everyone possible in the world that he has kissed such a pretty girl it has the pasta on his stomach doing flips.

"can i kiss you?"

"fuck yes please"

#harry styles imagine #harry fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles writing #harry styles au #tuliprry #harry x reader #barista!harry #ballerina!yn #older!harry

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bl00dycham0mile · 11 days

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hello everyone! i have been taking some time to work on a couple new fics with my favorite writer ive found within the Larry community. i am very proud of this project, and officially have four parts of it up and ready to be critiqued/enjoyed.

if you like enemies to lovers, angst, and slow-burn romance, this is the fic for you.

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mymadmoodboards · 1 year

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Harry Styles

SNL ballerina photoshoot

#moodboards #aesthetics #harry styles #snl ballerina photoshoot #harry styles moodboard #soft moodboard #soft aesthetic #pink aesthetic #does it come in pink #harry styles pink moodboard #pink moodboard #harry styles ballerina photos

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florieser · 4 months

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#miss dior #coquette #pink bows #ballet #ballerina #aesthetic #ariana grande #dior girl #christian dior #sabrina carpenter #lana del rey #dior #harry styles #troye sivan

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simplyjaeeex · 2 years

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Boo went to sleep and Sully came out to play

#really sully is a low key ballerina on the side #harry styles #hslot 2022

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laulywood · 1 year

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À vos tutus !

Le ballet-core, c’est la trend qui envahit nos tik tok. Avec plus d’une dizaine de hashtags en référence à cette tendance qui accumule des millions de vues, on se devait d’en parler. Mais d'où vient ce phénomène ?

Bien que cette tendance fasse fureur sur nos réseaux depuis quelque temps, elle ne date pas d'hier. Il y a déjà quelques mois, voire années, de nombreux articles avaient prédit la popularité de cette esthétique et de son ascension en 2022.

Le ballet a souvent été une source d’inspiration sur les défilés de mode. Aujourd'hui, en accord avec son temps, l'esthétique s’expose à toutes échelles en grande surface, sur les réseaux, tout en gardant sa place sur les podiums.

“Je vois le mouvement de ballet-toute-la-journée comme l'évolution naturelle du sportswear chic”. - Madeleine Jones.

Comme son nom l’indique, le ballet-core est une tendance revisitant l’esthétique des danseuses étoiles avec des pièces typiques de la garde robe de la danse classique. De nos jours, cette esthétique, c’est surtout une mode élaborée pour tous les jours et également plus accessible. Cette esthétique est marquée par les ballerines culte de Miu Miu, la jupe en tulle de Molly Goddard et marque le retour inattendu des Ultra Mini Boots de UGG. Mais comment vraiment adopter le look ballerina ?

Deux options s'offrent à nous. Dans un premier temps, on opte pour la panoplie complète avec le body, les hauts cache-cœur ou boléro, les jambières ainsi que les mini-jupes et le fameux chignon tiré à quatre épingle. À l'inverse, pour s'intégrer un peu plus aux différentes saisons, et avoir un style plutôt minimaliste de la tendance, on incorpore seulement quelques pièces dans nos tenues quotidiennes. Ici on opte pour les cache oreilles et les jambières en tricot, parfait pour nous aider à affronter la période hivernale.

Pour les couleurs, on mise tout sur des tons très doux, tel que le rose poudré, ou beige champagne toujours associé aux ballerines ainsi que le blanc et pour joeur avec la dualité comme dans le film “ Black Swan”. On n’oublie pas le grand retour de la tendance gothique avec une légère présence pour le noir.

Une tendance ambivalente

Après le barbie-core, le ballet-core nous plonge en enfance avec nos souvenirs de danse classique. Mais c’est pour beaucoup, c’est le moment de réaliser un rêve d’enfant. Car au-delà des belles tenues délicates et des jolies couleurs pastels, de nombreuses femmes commencent le ballet dans la vingtaine pour se lier d'amitié avec leur enfant intérieur et améliorer leur bien-être mental.

Cette mode permet aussi de mettre en avant toutes les femmes. À l’époque, l’aspect physique des femmes ne rentrait pas toujours dans la norme, en ce qui concerne leurs morphologies ou leurs couleurs de peau. Aujourd'hui, les marques de fast-fashion permettent à tout le monde de s’éloigner des tailles xs des défilés de mode. La maison miu miu, quant à elle, participera à cette évolution en proposant des ballerines de différentes teintes, un problème majeur qui touchait beaucoup d’entre nous,il y a encore peu.

Mais à l'inverse, cette tendance s’accompagne également de tout un aspect physique, que l’on a souvent dénoncé. L‘esthétique d’une jeune femme, blanche très féminisé, fine et élancé, dont certains semblent rechercher. Les danseuses classiques sont les premières à faire appel à la vigilance pour ne pas perdre pied.

#fashion #mode #tendance #harry styles #miu miu #balletcore #ballerines #ballerina #trend

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stylesslytherinskywalker · 2 years

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#harry styles #ballerina #Harry #styles #black and white #one direction

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prince-lily · 2 years

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This may or may not be my new lockscreen (created by yours truly)

#aesthetic #edit #harry styles #lockscreen #pink #ballerina #harry styles pink #harry styles aesthetic

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tuliprry · 2 years

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sunbeam 3

prompt: ballerina!yn x barista!harry, y/n is a ballerina and harry works at the café in the same building, both have a little crush on each other

warnings: mostly fluff, mentions of sex, mentions of anxiety, mentions of eating disorder

word count: 2k

part 1 part 2 part 4 part 5 extras

it's currently february, y/n has been planning a surprise party for harry, she had to message harry's mum which was terrifying for her as they haven't even been introduced, it wasn't the end of the world and anne was so excited that even though they were only dating for a few months that y/n was so ready to do these little things for her son. harry thinks they're just going on a date tonight and then come back to his house for a really sweet night of i love yous and sloppy sex. y/n was able to arrange a 15 minute window for anne to come over and start getting his apartment ready for the party. y/n had gotten harry a suit for his birthday and insisted that he would change at her house, harry was confused but he didn't think anything much of it.

y/n loved seeing harry in beiges and browns, it was something she genuinely loved, not that he looks bad in anything but there's just something that gets her all mushy inside when he wears beige, even pink, so clearly, she got him beige suit pants that go with a white shirt and a tan vest with pear drawings, y/n had an eye for fashion and she always took a mental note of things harry has mentioned, including this vest.

"how do i look?" harry asks, taking the well loved hair clip from his hair, "like a very sexy 28 year old" y/n giggled and stood up to properly check him out, "yeah you look so good my mouth is watering", he kissed her in between laughs, y/n looked good too, in a off white summer dress with puffy short sleeves and a little bow on her chest, white tights with really cute embroidered drawings and black mary janes. harry always thought she looked drop dead gorgeous, even when she was sweaty and exhausted from ballet class and would kiss him and sit on a stool awaiting her precious latte, he just thought she looked like what god is supposed to look like. "you know... if we didn't have our dinner... i'd definitely take this off right now" harry whispers in her ear sending shivers down her spine, he knew exactly what he did to her, in that department things have been... different, they've been trying a few things out and the more he learns about y/n in bed the easier it is for him to tease her and make her cheeks get a rosy coloured flush. "harry... cmon we still have to go to your house" y/n is trying hard to not get her knees weak or worse accidentally say theres a surprise party for him. "right fuck i still can't believe i left my phone at home, i'm sorry bunny" y/n knew exactly she was the one making sure his phone was at home so they had to go back but she just kissed his lips, grabbed her purse and went out the door.

on the uber ride, y/n texted anne saying they were on their way so they could hide and get remotely ready for the surprise, the jitters through y/n's body were absolutely killing her poor stomach, making her have a really big pain on that area, "bunny? do you wanna stay home? u look like you're sick" harry says as he puts his right over her tummy, "no no it's your birthday!!"

once harry opened the door and turned the lights on, his closest friends and family jumped and yelled surprise, harry stood tall with a shocked yet happy expression on his face, putting his hands on his face in disbelief, "oh my god you guys", he ran to his mum and sister hugging them tightly, "you planned all this?" he asks still in the hug, "no, darling, y/n planned all of this, we just helped getting it to come true" anne said going back to hug her son on his special day.

the party wasn't the kind of birthday party 21 year old y/n goes from her university friends, this is sweet, there's an 80s playlist playing, wine and cheeses and vegan spreads, harry was talking to his friends, they all looked about harry's age and really nicely put, she's listening to their conversation, sort of, they're going over writing and magazines and issues going on at the mother company of few of the magazines harry writes for outside of his side job as a barista. truth be told y/n understood nothing and felt like a little girl just sulking while waiting for harry to give her attention.

it's now 3am, y/n has just finished putting the leftovers inside the fridge, harry, who was supposed to still be loading the dishwasher, was attentively following her every move, grunts and small sighs, "ready to tell me whats inside that pretty mind?" harry asks, following her into the living room, "there's nothing to tell", y/n isn't as emotionally grown as harry, not that's she's childish when it comes to emotions, she just immediately has bad thoughts and uses anger as a coping mechanism, harry has a gut feeling y/n's ex wasn't actually the best person on earth and so many of her questions and worries and fears come from never knowing what true love is supposed to be like. "bunny... you wouldn't be pouty without reasoning" harry hugged her from behind, "but if you don't want to talk i get it, we can just stay like this", y/n closed her eyes and let herself rest in his arms for a minute, "i just.. all of your friends they're so... grown.. and i'm not and what if you want more? what if you need more? it's just... scary, h." harry tightened the hug, "i'm ruining your birthday i'm so sorry", he mouthed a little shush and turned her around to look at her face, "y/n.. i want you, please never doubt for any minute that you aren't the person i want and love the most, yeah they’re my age but look at you, 2 years of uni and you scored an internship at a studio, you do ballet, you work with all kinds of people.. you’re grown too, a little too grown for a 21 year old, i promise you i was a fuck up at your age” his lips met her forehead, the most underrated of kisses, "listen to me let's take a shower okay? get these clothes off and sleep, mm? can we do that?" of course they could.

it's been a week since y/n's moment of honesty and so many more moments of honesty were shared between them, especially at the end of the day before falling asleep. it snowed today, london has been messy and people have been rude and acting like they've never seen snow in their lives, y/n walks into the tall building where her ballet classes and rushes to see harry, he's restocking the food in display when he hears his girlfriends teary voice, he immediately puts the tray of deserts down and gets out behind the counter to kiss her, "you're freezing, let me get u coffee", he goes back and makes her a warm drink, he knew y/n had been on her nerves lately but today just seemed like the last straw by the sad look on her face. "people are so stupid, this man almost made me fall while leaving the tube by pushing me really hard, my foot hurts a little and i have class now and i really need to wash my hair and i have internship deadlines to meet at the photography studio and-" harry cut her off placing a croissant in front of her, "please eat and let me talk", she nodded, "first off next time someone pushes u like that just step on their feet, second are you okay to dance? does it hurt?... and y/n you have been working a lot lately i'm sure you can meet your deadlines you're just nervous and thats okay", he put a piece of her curtain bangs behind her ear and rested his forehead on hers, "everything is okay bunny, eat your croissant and drink your latte, yeah?"

harry's shift ended while y/n was still in class, usually his shift ends after and y/n just waits for him so they can go to either one of their places together, he decided to go upstairs and watch a bit of her class, he was really curious about the whole atmosphere and dynamic of y/n in her ballet class, y/n has told him a million times if he ever wants to watch it for a little that he's always welcome, he took his opportunity and walked in, y/n's teacher saw him in the corner of her eye and came up to him. "hello? how can i help?" she asked, "i'm harry, y/n's boyfriend i work downstairs", he was still standing at the ballet studio door, "oh! i'm maya, y/n's teacher", she smiles and points at the floor, "you can sit there we're just finishing up!". y/n already doing stretches, his heart shrunk a little by not seeing her dance, something he absolutely loves to watch y/n do, y/n spots him through the mirror in front of her and makes a sign to go meet her, he does and sits next to her, also stretching.

"what are you doing here?"

"well i finished my shift earlier and i wanted to see you"

"we're just finishing"

"you look so good"

"h..."

"no no! i mean it you look out of a music box, you're so beautiful”

“don’t make me blush right now”

harry was carrying y/n’s stuff inside his house, placing them on top of his dining table, y/n had been the entire tube ride explaining how her class is doing a small production of the nutcracker to present at a local theatre, mostly for schools to go to, she didn’t have a big hope to be a lead has she knows she’s been on this class for 6 months and it’s not her time to shine yet, but she is actually so excited and ready to start rehearsing. “when are you guys supposed to present it?”, harry asks getting his shoes off, “maya said late may, she’s hosting auditions next week with one of her colleagues in another school, they’re judging us by our regular routines so i’m a little less nervous” y/n explains, they were quickly changing clothes to go and do touristy things in london, they have been doing this every time his shift and her class are in the morning, usually on tuesdays, y/n always takes the chance to photograph harry, her favourite model. “borough market date?” she asks, packing some linen food bags onto her bag, “oh yeah my fridge actually looks very sad, i’ve gotten used to your cooking” he kisses her forehead, “want to cook dinner tonight? i’ll help” he continues, doing his puss in boots eyes to her, “stop it, i can’t say no if you look at me like that….maybe a bowl? with veggies and rice, we could get broccoli, mushrooms, some vegan chicken and vegan pesto?” his stomach growls just thinking about it, “i don’t know how you do it, you just always know what i’m craving.” harry sees improvement on y/n’s eating, she eats more and hasn’t fainted in a long while, he doesn’t totally get it as he hasn’t been there but he still reads about it a lot.

borough market was packed as usual, it’s a tourist spot but y/n and harry love going there and get their fruit and veggies, once they even got garlic tofu and started buying it way too often for their own good, one of harry’s favourite meals y/n has ever made, said tofu, brown rice, hummus and a side salad of rainbow veggies, his mum mentioned his tummy was definitely bigger, comfy, something he didn’t mind if it meant eating this good every night.

“garlic tofu?”

“that’s not a question harry, it’s always a yes”

“is it also always a yes for a kiss?”

“absolutely”

y/n's birthday post for harry

y/n's little london post

y/n's story about harry losing her at a uni party

part 4?

taglist: @his-only-angel-1989 @oscarissacsslut @odilevonbrekker @youd0ntkn0wm3 @tenaciousperfectionunknown

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sunflowerlou · 2 years

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Harry Styles pink aesthetic

#harry styles #pink aesthetic #moodboard #ballerina

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tattoosandrings · 9 months

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#art #illustration #pop music #harry styles #ballerina #drawing #digital art

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cupid-styles · 2 months

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A little idea of a scene for hockeyxballerina: even before they start having a thing they end up in a heated kiss with him pressing her against a wall, car, bookshelf of whatever whi his hamd on her throat and her brain his so foggy she lets him spit on her mouth but the she comes to hers senses and runs away without a word, not even an insult because she is so shocked with what she did

🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

word count: 1.6k

content warnings: smut (hehe finally!!!) (spitting, public play, dirty talk, degradation)

hockey!h x ballerina!yn masterlist

main masterlist

. . .

There must be something clinically wrong with Y/N tonight.

Well, maybe not just tonight. Maybe... maybe, that "something wrong" has been creeping up her body and spreading from her stomach out to her chest and center over the duration of a past few weeks. Maybe she expected it go away after a day or two, because why wouldn't it?

Harry Styles is his worst nightmare. Her moral enemy. Her fiercest competitor.

So why the fuck does she think he looks good enough to swallow whole tonight?

He walked in with a crowd of his hockey buddies an hour or so after Y/N, Lea, Rena, and Mai had arrived. Per the pre-game hosted at Mai and Rena's place, she was already feeling a little buzzed when she got here. She was planning on taking it easy tonight — she was still diligently practicing for the spring showcase every day — but the second her eyes flitted over to the stupid backwards hat he wore and the flex of his jaw from the gum he chewed, she knew she needed more to get through the night.

And she's pleasantly tipsy when she makes a move to head to the bathroom. She hears her friends scold her for "breaking the seal," but she rolls her eyes and playfully flips them off in response. Her sneakers stick to the vodka-coated floors of the college bar as she pushes her way through the crowd, trying to make her way to the ladies' room without any tequila spillage on her top.

Harry Styles is an idiot, she thinks to herself as she walks, There's no way I could have a crush on him. What, just because he drove me home a few times and helped me when I hurt my ankle? That's stupid, he's stupid, and—

"Hey, you."

Her eyes dart up at the familiar deep voice and she wishes the ground would open up and take her right then and there. Did she somehow conjure Harry up with her thoughts? She's a little drunk, but there's no way she's that powerful.

Unless she is.

"I have to pee." she replies, pointing to the bathrooms behind his tall stature.

"Okay. Go pee, then."

She flashes a tight smile his way as she brushes past him. She thinks from the corner of her eye she sees him stand against the wall of the small hallway, crossing her arms over his chest. The last time they were in this area together, it was right after she slept with Malcolm (the stupid, prissy idiot from the opposing team who wouldn't even smack her ass). At this point, it's been months since Harry lowly waxed poetic in her ear about how he could make all her degrading dreams come true.

The memory makes her shudder as she washes her hands.

Y/N's suspicious are proved right when she exits the bathroom to see Harry still standing there. She's prepared to ignore him and walk straight past him until he reaches out to grasp her wrist, gently pulling her back. She yelps, a tipsy, unattractive sound, and it makes Harry's eyes crease with laughter.

"You good?" he asks. Y/N's vision darts down to the gum he's chewing between his teeth and she swallows.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

Harry shrugs. "Just making sure you're not too drunk."

"I have a dress rehearsal this weekend," she replies with a shake of her head. "I just came out to see the girls."

"And me." He points out cheekily, making her roll her eyes.

"I didn't even know you'd be here tonight, Harry."

"It's one of three bars in town and all the athletes come here."

He's right about that, and she knows he could double down by pointing out the obvious, too — that this is the only bar their friend groups ever frequent, and the hockey team rarely misses a Friday night out.

Luckily, he spares her the embarrassment.

"We have a game tomorrow night," he continues, "Will you come?"

"Why would I do that?"

"School spirit. Duh."

Y/N scoffs at that and shakes her head. She focuses her eyesight on anything but the cocky, beautiful, stupid man in front of her.

"I'm practicing all day. I'll be in an ice bath before your game even starts."

"Hot," he smirks. Y/N's stomach flutters.

"Stop being a douche. I thought we were past this."

"We are!" Harry exclaims, lifting his hands up in surrender. She only now realizes that he'd had his fingers looped around her wrist that entire time. "I'm just saying, you're hot."

"You must be more fucked up than I thought," Y/N guffaws.

"If I was fucked up, I'd be trying to sleep with you right now."

The words fly from her lips before she can even stop them: "And that's not what you're doing?"

She doesn't know if she says it because she wants to call him out on his bluff or she's feeling the confidence — and lust — from her the drinks she consumed tonight. But she doesn't take it back. And she certainly doesn't walk away as she watches Harry's head cock slightly to the side. His expression almost seems as if he's... impressed, in some way. The smirk on his lips makes her ball her fists at her side.

"You would know if I was trying to fuck you, Y/N."

She swallows. It's warm — she's suddenly so warm right now as she realizes their chests are nearly pressed against one another. The height difference between them makes it so her breasts are below his pecs, but she still feels the expanse of muscles through the layers of their clothing.

"I doubt that," she mutters, and he clenches his jaw. It's almost hypnotizing to watch. "I really think—"

"I think you should shut up now."

In a moment, his hand is spread over her hip and they've swapped places; her back now pressed firmly up against the wall. His tall form all but blocks any onlookers from seeing who he has cornered, but he couldn't forget it even if he wanted to. Not when he's been dreaming of this for weeks.

And really, he wouldn't do it if he didn't have some sort of prior knowledge about her hookup with Malcolm — the fact that she's somehow just depraved as him.

So he wedges his gum to the back of his molars, utters out the words, "open your mouth", and gathers up the spit behind his lips. His length immediately thickens in his pants when she sticks her tongue out. And then he spits in her mouth.

She whimpers instantly at the feeling but it's drowned out by his own groan. It's filthy and demeaning, but he can see it in her eyes how much she loves it.

"Looks so good," he mumbles, thumbing at a bit at the side of her mouth before pushing it in. "Swallow."

She does.

"You're well-behaved for a brat," he notes as he gives her hip a squeeze. She hums, eyes flickering when his hand lifts her shirt up slightly, fingertips trailing over the smooth skin of her stomach. "Did you want a prize, puppy?"

With hazy eyes, she nods.

He smirks, almost immediately stuffing his hand down her jeans. She gasps when he finds the sodden fabric of her underwear, eliciting a low chuckle from his chest.

"All this just for some spit? Maybe you're nastier than I thought."

She wishes she could reply back with something snarky but she can’t, not when he begins to roll her clit beneath his fingertips. Her eyes flutter shut as he applies a bit more pressure, pausing momentarily to collect some of the wetness accumulating at her whimpering hole.

“Finally let me play with this pretty pussy, hm?” he says mockingly, “Maybe one day you’ll let me stretch it out, too. Might take awhile for it to fit, though— I know you’ve never been with someone as big as me.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles breathily. He laughs and squeezes her clit between two of his fingers. She gasps, barely offering enough recovery time before he’s back to rubbing circles.

“What, you really think you could take my cock, sweetheart? You can barely take one of my fingers. Gonna have to train you for months, but I think you’d like that.”

“Harry—“

“I know,” he coos condescendingly as he speeds up the movements of his fingers. “You’re such a stubborn brat you’d just want me to stuff you full on the first try. Feel me in your fuckin’ stomach.”

“‘m gonna cum,” she mewls, reaching out to dig her fingernails into his chest. He hisses from the small bite of pain. “Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna cum—“

Harry wouldn’t stop touching her even if he wanted to. Especially not as he watches her fall apart beneath his grasp, her knees almost buckling from the intensity of her orgasm. He feels her pussy clenching rapidly and he swallows harshly, the sight nearly being enough to make him come in his pants.

She’s quiet and shaky as her orgasm tapers off and Harry gently pulls his hand from her pants. He helps adjust her jeans back up and over her hips, her eyes flickering up to his face.

“Oh my god,” she mutters, her eyes widening as if she’s just realized what she’s done. “Oh my god, what the fuck?”

“What?” Harry asks through furrowed brows. He’s expecting some sort of nervous response about accidentally abandoning her friends, but instead she shakes her head and lightly pushes him away.

“I can’t. This was— this was bad, so fucking stupid.” She mumbles to herself, keeping her arms stretched out in front of her so he can’t get closer. “Fuck, Harry.”

He’s left confused and nervous as she watches her leave the bar.

#bestie asks #writing #hockey h

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monzabee · 1 year

Text

baby honey – al12

masterlist

Summary: The one where Arthur swears he’s not thinking about you, his best friend, all the time – just today, yesterday, and tomorrow night.

Pairing: arthur leclerc x reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: angst, unreciprocated feelings (that turn into reciprocated feelings), hurt, comfort, alcohol consumption, being drunk, idiots to lovers, denial is a river in egypt, charles and his big brain, miscommunication, mentions of drunk driving (don’t drink and drive!), jealousy jealousy, cying, google translate French!

Request: “after reading ur newest cl16 fic i want one where reader always liked charles but he gets a gf and she ends up with arthur (who’s her bff?? bffs to lovers 🤔) just a lot of hurt comfort” + “Hi! Can I please request ballerina!reader with either Charles or Arthur, you can choose to write it or do it as a smau, thank you!” + “can you please write something with Arthur + size/height difference?”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! it is time for the debut of arthur my beloved on this blog. i LOVED all of the requests for this one! i was originally going to name this fic after another taylor song (wink, wink), but then i was listening to baby honey by harry styles and something just clicked, so i hope you guys also agree with me. if anyone is wondering, this is an unreleased song from his first self-titled album. i know the request was a bit different, with reader having feelings for charles first, but i think changing it a little bit and having miscommunication made it a bit deeper. so thank you, anons, for these requests, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Arthur has a problem when it comes to you – and that is not being able to say the word ‘no’. This has put him in some very interesting positions in the past, but whatever happens, it just seems that Arthur is not able to mutter out the word ‘no’ when you ask him of something. It’s always been that way, he supposes. He was never able to deny you when you looked at him with the look in your eyes, and he still can’t to this day. When you call him to ask if he wants to come to a party with you? He’s out the door before you tell him the location. When you suddenly have the urge to watch Barbie movies from your childhood? He brings the popcorn and even sings along to some of the songs he knows the words to. You were there for every one of his races before he got the opportunity to travel around the world to drive on the same tracks his brother and even the legends in the sports did. He came to every one of your ballet recitals until you graduated, and he was kind enough to buy you a bouquet of your favourite flowers each time. Although this might be the situation, the relationship you and Arthur have are based on equal grounds – meaning that you love and adore him just as he does you. It’s one of relationships you value the most in your life, the two of you having each other’s back since a very young age, and it is a relationship that you don’t ever want to lose. So, when the time came for both of you to move out of your parents’ houses, it came as no surprise for anyone that you two decided to move in together. Arthur wanted to spend his free time, when he wasn’t racing, with you as much as possible, and you were just happy to be with your best friend.

Though he’s always been protective over you and it is nothing new, Arthur can’t help but worry every time you go out on a date with a new guy. In reality, he knows you and Patrick have been going out for a while. You’ve told him about Patrick a few times when you called him when he was away for races, and he’s met the guy, but there’s a feeling he just can’t seem to shake off.

“Are you sure you want to go on this date?” Arthur asks behind the door to your bedroom.

You groan when the earring you’re trying to get stuck in your hair. “For the millionth time, Arthur, I’m sure.” You check yourself in the mirror for the last time before grabbing your handbag and opening you door to come face to face with a worried face. “Why are you so stressed over this?” You ask him, rummaging through the handbag in your hand to find your lipstick.

“I’m not stressed, poupette.” doll. Arthur scoffs, watching you with a stern look on your face. “I’m just making sure you’re feeling up to going out tonight.”

“I’m feeling fine, ma moitié, my other half, you have nothing to worry about.” You assure him with a sweet smile on your face while playfully patting his chest. “Stop acting like this, you look like your mother.”

“Fine, then, you look like my mother.” You shrug as Arthur rolls his eyes. Loud cackles coming from the living room suddenly grabs both of your attention, making you smile even wider. “Lorenzo, Charles, hi!”

The two brothers sitting in your living room gives you bright smiles and Hellos. Charles gives you a glance, eyebrows raised as he asks, “Aren’t you going to be cold without a jacket?”

“You’re not taking a jacket?” A voice exclaims from behind, making you roll your eyes as you point towards Arthur with the tilt of your head.

“You happy?” You ask while raising your eyebrows. “A jacket doesn’t go with my dress.” You explain, expectantly looking at the older driver as you open your arms and pointing to the dress.

“Uh, sure, Y/N.” Charles nods in thought.

Lorenzo hits the back of his brother’s head lightly, shaking his head towards him as he speaks to you. “I think you look lovely, have a good night.”

“Thank you, Enzo!” You beam, walking towards the front door as you yell. “Arthur I’m leaving, don’t wait up!” At the mention of his name, Arthur comes running towards the front door, reminding you that you can call him at any point during the night if you feel uncomfortable, which in return you assure him you’ll be fine and leave after giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He sighs deeply as he watches you leave the apartment, and only realises both of his brothers watching him with funny expressions after he closes the door and turns back with the jacket still in his hands. “What?”

“So,” Charles begins when all three of them are sitting on the couch in your living room, getting ready to play a round of FIFA. “How long have you been crushing on Y/N, again?”

Arthur groans, his face contorting up in a grimace. “Not this again, Charles.”

“No, he has a point.” Lorenzo mumbles, siding with his brother. “You’ve had a crush on her since you were seven, Arthur.”

“Exactly!” Charles exclaims, pointing to Arthur excitedly. “Why haven’t you done something about it yet?”

“Because she is my best friend, you idiots.” Arthur shakes his head, choosing to focus on the game which just started on the screen instead of insistent look Charles and Lorenzo give him. “And, stop saying I have a crush on her.”

Charles lets out a disapproving sound as he, too, turns towards the game. “Friends don’t look at each other like that.”

“We look each other normally.”

“You look like you want to make love to her every time you look at her.” Charles shrugs, making both his older and younger brother turn to him with disgusted looks on their faces.

“Charles!” Arthur complains. “No!”

“Please don’t ever use the words 'make love' in the same sentence as Arthur and Y/N.” Lorenzo begs, grabbing the bridge of his nose.

“Fine.” Charles shrugs, as he takes the opportunity to shoot his first goal. “But you can’t deny the fact that your overprotectiveness over Y/N doesn’t stem from your feelings for her. You’ve always been that way and it’s impossible for you to not feel something more for her.”

Arthur frowns, not because he is losing by the third minute of the game, but because of Charles’ words. “We’ve been friends since we were babies, Charles, of course I’m protective over her.”

“Which is understandable.” Lorenzo tries to reconciliate.

Charles lets out another disapproving mumble. “So you’d be okay with me asking her out?”

“Excuse-moi?” Excuse me? Arthur looks at his brother, appalled. “You’re going to do what?”

“Ask her out, Arthur. Would you be okay if I asked her out?” Charles repeats himself in a nonchalant manner, scoring another goal.

“Of course not!” Arthur cries out. “Why would you ask her out anyway? She’s seeing Patrick.”

Charles shrugs noncommittally. “She might break things off with him. You know, I always had a feeling she had a crush on me.”

“Charles.” Lorenzo scolds his younger brother.

However, Arthur is busy going through every single interaction you’ve had with Charles over the years; trying to find some actuality to his brother’s words. He pauses the game to turn towards his brothers, his eyes angry as he looks at Charles with a locked jaw. “No, you cannot ask out my best friend, you porc!” pig.

“Why?” He asks, with a fake innocent look on his face.

“Because, firstly, she is not a pawn you can use to prove something to me in some messed up game. And, two, she is mybest friend, my roommate and my–” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but he knows how he would end the sentence if he would – which makes him think for a moment that his brothers just might be right.

“Okay, then.” Charles concedes, unpausing the game and taking advantage of the confused state Arthur is in to score, yet, another goal.

Though the game is going on, Arthur can’t seem to focus on it because he is too busy thinking about you, and whether he’s been in love with you his entire life.

It’s a couple weeks later when Arthur walks through the doors of the ballet studio you work at. He noticed over the few weeks that you’ve been down ever since you’ve stopped seeing Patrick, so he wanted to surprise you. He greets the old receptionist who works out in the front, giving her one of the tulips he got for you on his way there. When he gets in front of the classroom you usually teach in, he watches you with the kids as a soft smile find its way onto his face. He watches as you fix the techniques of some of the girls who are struggling, but instead of appearing upset, they are smiling as they try their best to fix their postures. When you move towards the old stereo on the corner of the room, he knows that the class is about to end – because something you do at the end of every class is letting the student dance freely to the music on the radio without giving them instructions. He watches as one of the smaller boys in the class shyly approach you, motioning you to bend to his height with his hand and then whisper something in your ear. You talk for a while, and he watches as the boy leaves with a smile on his face, which wasn’t there before, after giving you a hug and a small bouquet of flowers. Arthur waits until the class is over and all the kids have left the small studio to walk in.

“I was wondering if you offered any private lessons?” He asks with a boyish smile on his face.

You turn towards him, fast, when you hear your voice. Laughing as you cross the room and throw yourself into his waiting arms. “You couldn’t dance even if Marianela Núñez gave you dance classes herself, Turo.”

“Well I don’t need classes from her,” Arthur rolls his eyes. “All I need is you.”

You purse your lips, trying not to smile too widely, at the hidden meaning behind his words – the one which you somehow convince yourself that you’re imagining ever being there. Lightly leaning your head against Arthur’s chest, you begin talking. “You’re awfully sweet today, did you know that?”

He presses a light kiss onto the crown of you head, mumbling in thought. “Well, I missed you because I was alone at home all day. So I thought I’d come surprise you.” Pulling away slowly, he gives you the bouquet of tulips he is holding. “Speaking of which.”

“They look like the ones you used to get me after my recitals!” You squeal, taking the bouquet from his hand and inspecting it closely. “I love them, Arthur, thank you.”

“I’m glad you liked them, poupette.” He smiles. “Although, it seems that I have some competition today.”

You smile and shrug at the mention of the other bouquet sitting next to your bag. “Oh, that’s Leon. Some of the older kids at school’s been bothering him because he’s taking ballet classes.”

“You made him smile,” Arthur recalls, one of his hands cupping your cheek, which makes you look up to him. “Probably made his day, too.”

“I hope so.” You tell him, honestly. “He seem to like the classes; I would hate to see him leave just because of bullies at school.”

“You are a very good teacher, you know that?” Arthur murmurs, watching as a rosy colour takes over your cheeks.

“Stop it.” You huff, trying to push him off of you in a faux attempt. “Did you come here to make me blush, ma moitié?”

He shakes his head. “No, no. I thought we could go on a walk? At the marina, before it gets dark.”

You pretend to think for a moment, but smile, nonetheless. “Can we also get burgers?”

Arthur tries to profess his feelings for you when the two of you go on your ‘date’, he really does. When he sits down and thinks about it, rationally, he can convince himself that you have feelings for him, just the way he does for you. He can see it in the way you glance up at him every time he makes a joke, or the way you lean into his touch every time he touches you, which is a lot. He thinks he sees something every time you end up too close to each other; even convinces himself that perhaps you are expecting a kiss with the way your eyes slide to his lips a couple of times. But every time he tries to force himself to kiss you or tell you how he feels, an apprehensive doubt takes over his entire brain, somehow convincing himself otherwise, that doing so would only end up in you two getting completely messing up your friendship.

There’s also a part of his brain which consistently reminds him that it is Charles you have feelings for and not him. He doesn’t have a reason why he came to this conclusion; you’ve never explicitly told him about having feelings for his older brother, but there’s a part of him that still clings to Charles’ words – even though he didn’t actually mean anything by them. So as any person his age, who is going through what he’s going through, he takes a step back to observe. It all starts when the two of you go out for grocery shopping. It’s not a common occurrence that Arthur accompanies you, mainly because he is on the road most of the time, but he tags along because “He doesn’t want you to carry the bags on your own.” The two of you are busy fighting over cereal when you run into Charles, who provides a solution by offering that you buy both of the boxes. While you tell him it is probably the only way you and Arthur are going to agree on the fact, he is too busy picking apart every part of the interaction to see whether there could be any possibility of you having any feelings for his brother. The worst of them come a few weeks later, when Arthur and Charles come back from a race. All four of you, including Lorenzo, are seated at your dining table, enjoying takeover pizza when Charles announces that he started to see a girl. You all congratulate him, but after the conversation dies down, Arthur notices a familiar look of longing in your eyes. And that’s when he realises that you have feelings for Charles, and not him, and he absolutely needs to get over his feelings for you before it blows up in his face.

A couple of weeks later, one of his friends from racing invite you to a party. Arthur follows you, of course, because he doesn’t want you to go alone. He know it’s a terrible idea, though, once he sees you in the dress you chose for the party. It’s feels as if it’s impossible for him to keep his eyes (or his hands) off of you. He manages to let out a strangled answer when you ask him if you look okay, “You look good, Y/N.” The smile you give him return is so sweet, that he suddenly remembers that he should schedule an appointment with his dentist when he has the time. Though he doesn’t manage to convince you to take a jacket with you, he picks up his own as a precaution. The party is in full swing by the time the two of you arrive, which you light-heartedly scold him because the two of you are late. He considers apologising at first, but when he sees the smile on your lips, he just lets you drag him towards the bar without any objections.

“What do you want to drink?” You ask him, leaning over the bar to take a look at the limited menu. You know he wouldn’t want to drink if he was driving the two of you back home, but since you took an Uber to the night club, Arthur decides to drink as well.

“I’ll have tequila.” He answers after looking at the menu thinking about it for a second, and then turns to you. “You want to do shots?”

“Yes, please.” You nod, giving him your ‘prettiest’ smile. “Five?”

“Three.” He shakes his head and gives you a stern look. “And no mixing alcohols, either.”

You pout as you watch him order your drinks, your arms crossed over your chest pushing your breasts together. “You’re no fun.”

Arthur’s eyes fall down to your chest for a moment but he promptly fixes his gaze up to yours, as he places his hand on your hip to draw you close to him. He leans down towards you to whisper in your ear, “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

You purse your lips, choosing to play with the buttons on his shirt as a distraction. “We haven’t gone out to party in a while, sue me for wanting to have fun.”

“We will have fun.” Arthur contends as his thumb starts drawing circles on your hipbone. “Just not by doing something which will cause you to wake up hungover tomorrow.”

You give him a sarcastic smile. “Hm, mon chevalier en armure brillante.” my knight in shining armour. You turn to the bartender who brings over your drinks. “Thank you.”

Arthur eyes the bartender up and down, his look over quickly morphing into a side-eye once he realises where his eyes are looking at. He somehow pulls you closer to himself, caging you between himself and the bar, and lifts your chin up with two of his fingers to gaze into your eyes. “Be good, baby,” He tests. “Honey.” He warns.

“I am always good.” You counter, eyebrows furrowing in confusion because of his sudden possessive streak. “Are you okay?”

He waits until the bartender is tending to other customers to answer your question, his voice is in a lower octave but still somehow audible to you over the loud music in the club. “He was looking at your chest, poupette.”

“My boobs look great in this dress.” You reply while shrugging, the aloof look in your face making Arthur frown. “You didn’t need to act like a caveman, you know. The poor guy was probably scared.”

“Well, it’s too late now.” He replies, aloof, and downs one of his shots. “Are we doing this or not?”

It’s a bad idea, after all, tequila shots. Because after you’re done with the first three, you somehow convince Arthur that you need more, which means the both of you end up drinking six shots in the span of half-an hour. The bright side of this situation is that you convince Arthur to dance with you on the dancefloor, which he wouldn’t have done if he was sober. At some point throughout the night the two of you end up getting separated, which has you going around the night club looking for Arthur. You decide to ask some of his friends he introduced to you earlier, who tell you that he’s probably out taking some fresh air. He’s by himself outside of the club, leaning against a wall when you find him.

“What are you doing here all alone?” You ask him, tilting your head sideways to take a good look at him.

“It’s quieter out here,” Arthur shrugs, opening his arms and motioning you to come closer. “You’re going to freeze.”

You find yourself in his arms in record time, not that you could say no to his hugs anyway, his sway making you frown. “Are you okay, Turo?”

He smiles lazily at the nickname as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m drunk, ne devrait probablement pas conduire.” probably shouldn't drive.

“It’s okay, I’ll order an Uber.” He keeps his arms around you as you busy yourself with your phone, entering the address of your apartment.

Just like at the bar or when you were waiting for the Uber to arrive, Arthur doesn’t let you go completely when you’re in the backseat of the car. He makes you wear his jacket before you get into the car, though the oversized clothing doesn’t stop him from managing to make contact with your skin. He has a hand on your thigh, which is exposed because your dress keeps riding up. You make sure to keep an arm around him when you stumble through the door to your apartment.

You tell him to wait for you in his room and that you’ll be right over after you take your heels; however, he responds by throwing you over his shoulder as he walks through the corridor which leads up to his room. “Arthur, you’re drunk, put me down!”

“This doesn’t count as drunk driving.” He provides as an excuse, only putting you down when he enters his room – thankfully without any accidents.

You sit on his bed to take of your heels just as he jumps onto it, making it teeter because of his movements and makes you laugh at him. Shrugging off the jacket he gave you, you walk towards his closet to hand up the garment before the two of you forget about it. Arthur watches you move around his room with dazed eyes, trying very hard not to laugh when he sees you struggling with the hangers and cursing under your breath. His eyes move down your body when you kneel to get to the last drawer to get out a pair of sweatpants for him, which makes him silently groan at the sight. You walk towards him when you get out the sweats and a shirt for him to change into, poking his stomach to make him sit up straight. “Take off your shirt.”

“Are you trying to get me naked?” He asks, a smirk playing on his lips. “At least take me out to dinner first.”

“I cook you dinner all the time, Arthur.” You drawl, holding out the clothes for him to take.

He takes them while mumbling, “And I try my best to eat and enjoy all your attempts.”

“Casse toi, go away, asshole.” You snap, starting to walk out of the room.

“Where are you going?” He calls out.

You scoff, calling out back at him over your shoulder. “To get you water and Advil, you better be changed by the time I’m back or I’m putting you under the cold shower.”

He is, thankfully, changed by the time you get back with a glass of water and the painkillers you promised, You place them onto his nightstand, and face him. “Off to bed, you go.”

“Stay here tonight?” He asks you, but his voice is devoid of his previous playfulness.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, chéri.” You press a kiss against his cheek and then, feeling bold, you press another kiss to the beauty mark right above the corner of his lips. “We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

Sleep doesn’t come easy that night, no matter how hard he tries to fall asleep. He keeps trying to convince himself to go to sleep, telling himself that the quicker he does, the quicker he’ll see you in the morning, but he is unable to do so. At some point in the night, he finds himself slipping through your door. He ends up slipping under your covers too, and pulls you against his chest, causing you to stir in your sleep as you cuddle his side.

“Go back to sleep, honey.” He whispers as he closes his eyes, and he finally drifts off to sleep when he finally has you in his arms.

You’re sleeping on top of him when he wakes up the next morning with his face buried in your hair. Your closed eyes and even breathing indicates that you’re still asleep, which causes Arthur to do his best to stay still not to wake you up. He soaks up every moment of it until your eyes flutter open and you let out a low whine, asking, “Why are you in my bed? How’d you get here?”

“I sneaked in.” He replies, pressing a kiss on your cheek. “Good morning, baby.”

“I’m loving the new nicknames; baby, honey?” You mumble, nuzzling your nose against his jaw. “Why’d you sneak in?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He confesses with a strained look on his face, and then he announces. “You’re not my girlfriend.”

You pick up your head so quickly, you think you’re going to break your neck. “I’m aware of that fact, Arthur.” You manage to get out in a clipped voice.

“And I should probably be thinking about protecting our friendship first, but I have to say this even though you have feelings for my brother.”

“Your brother?” You look at him with your mouth agape. “You think I have feelings for your brother? Lorenzo? He’s like my brother!”

He’s taken aback by your question. “No- not Lorenzo! Do you have a crush on Lorenzo?”

“No! You idiot, why would I have feelings for Lorenzo?” You ask him as you scramble to get off of him, letting yourself fall to the bed and pick up your pillow to hit Arthur over the head with. “I don’t have feelings for either of your brothers, other than being friends, you disgusting pig!”

“You don’t have feelings for Charles?” He asks you tentatively which earns him another hit on the head with the pillow. “Okay, would you please stop that?”

“No, I don’t have feelings for Charles, either! Oh my god, Arthur, what is wrong with you?” The look you give him reflect how much you’re hurt, your fingers occupy themselves with the edge of the pillowcase as you ask, “Do you honestly think I’d be in bed with you like that if I had feelings for your brother?”

He’s careful as he asks, “…No?” He lets out a frustrated groan as he pushes himself to get to a standing position. “I don’t know what to think, anymore. I like you so much that somehow you’ve taken over my entire brain!”

“You… like me?” You ask him, breath hitching in your throat.

“No.” Comes his reply.

“So, you don’t like me?”

His hands grasp the roots of his hair. “No, I adore you, I am utterly infatuated by you, I am so besotted by you that every moment of my waking days are filled with the thoughts of you, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I even think about you when I’m on the track–”

“Arthur, breathe.” You warn him, your hands quickly going over his to try and get them off.

“You really don’t have feelings for Charles?” He asks in a small voice. You answer him by shaking your head, which prompts him to ask, “Then why were you sad when he announced he was seeing someone?”

“He told me you’d confess your feelings to me before he ever found someone to date for himself.” You shrug, the corners of your mouth dipping as if you’re trying to keep tears at bay. “I guess I somehow made myself believe you would.”

“Baby–” He stops himself. “Honey, please don’t cry.” He reaches over you to wipe away some of the stray tears that have escaped your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I am stupid.”

“Very much so, yes.” You agree with him as you lean against his touch. “Though, I’m surprised you didn’t notice me flirting with you over the past year.”

“You’ve been flirting me for a year?” He asks you, baffled.

You fix him with an unamused look. “Do you think I go around talking about my boobs with everyone?”

“You better not be.” He scoffs as he draws you closer to him.

“I just might do so if you don’t do something about it.” You egg him on without changing the expression on your face.

You squeal as Arthur picks you up and gently throws you down on the bed, quickly changing his position to hover over you as he presses kisses all over your face. “Mine,” He announces. “Mine, my girl.”

“I like the sound of that,” You breathe out. “But I liked the others more.”

“Which ones?” He asks while letting his finger trace over the outline of your lips.

“Baby, honey, I don’t even know what you were trying to say.” You giggle.

“Mine.” He whispers. “I was trying to say that you’re mine.”

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