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wheelsup · 3 years

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kissing lessons

summary: one of your classic movie nights with spencer turns into a learning opportunity

A/N: this is really fluffy, but the whole story centers around kissing. use your own judgement! i’d say it’s at worst 16+

category: spencer reid x gn!reader, fluff (with a bit of spice) best friends to lovers (sorta)

warnings: just kissing, a brief implication at the end

word count: 3k

Occasionally, the team will spend an extra night in their hotel before heading home from a case. Be it due to poor weather conditions, or the fact that your case wrapped in the dead of night, the reasons for flying don’t ever matter. Because the majority of the times when you have to stay that extra night, you and Spencer have sleepovers.

The routine is pretty much the same. You’ll stock up on gas station snacks – sour peach rings for Spencer, salted microwave popcorn for you – and reconvene in one of your hotel rooms. Preferably, whichever of you got the better deal that week – a bigger tv, a room further away from the ice machine. And you’d rent the cheapest movie available on-demand, the options spanning from low-budget sci-fi to poorly written rom-coms. That night, the viewing fell under the latter category.

Spencer perched at the foot of your bed with both feet tucked under his legs, criss-cross style, while you laid against the headboard to watch. Every now and then, you tossed out your commentary and he’d ignore it. He always says you’re too critical of movies and you’re of the belief that he’s too forgiving.

“I don’t think they should end up together,” you mumbled, words slurring around your mouthful of popcorn. You pulled a face right as the movie approached the romantic climax, after spending the past ninety minutes actively rooting against the couple. Spencer ignored you, pretending to be engrossed in the movie to spite your disparagement of it. “They both suck.”

You groaned, slumped further against the pillows, and shoved your sock-clad toes under Spencer’s left thigh in a call for attention. He jumped at the intrusion, but ultimately, your efforts were futile.

And then the big kiss commenced, and your booing finally piqued his interest. “Gross! I feel bad for people who kiss like that.”

A small bell went off in his head and he took a curious glance at you over his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” he asked. He stopped chewing and the piece of candy in his mouth pushed out his cheek, giving him an adorably innocent look. His brows scrunched in the middle and his nose had a tiny crinkle in it, utterly confused.

You scoffed and matched his expression. “Are you serious?” You jerked your head in the direction of the television and Spencer whipped his head back, squinting. He couldn’t figure out what you were pointing out, what it was that was so obviously wrong to you. “Spencer, he’s swallowing her chin!”

Oh. He hadn’t noticed.

Feeling dumb, he muttered, “I thought that’s how you’re supposed to kiss…” It wasn’t the deepest confession to admit to you that he lacked some knowledge when it came to kissing, but he still refused to look at you as he said it.

“Spencer, please tell me you haven’t been kissing people like that.” You narrowed your eyes at the back of his head, sitting up straighter in bed. He shrugged and lowered his head, focusing on his snack as his fingers dug into the packet of gummy rings in his lap.

He popped another piece into his mouth, pretending to be occupied with eating so as to avoid your prying. “I dunno.”

It didn’t occur to you until that moment that Spencer might have learned everything he knows about kissing – among other things – solely through watching movies. How else could he look at that and think it’s normal? And you’re left wondering if he’s ever even practiced it with another living human. He clearly didn’t want to talk about it, but unfortunately, that only heightened your interest. You had to know.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” You kept your voice low, your tone implying that you were ready to exchange this secret with him. You wouldn’t judge him if he admitted he hadn’t.

He scoffed loudly, and though you couldn’t see his face, you’re positive he rolled his eyes too. “Yeah, of course.” Then quietly, he added on, “But it was only like… for four seconds.”

You nodded thoughtfully, considering how this new piece of information adjusted your existing view of Spencer. For some reason, you couldn’t tell if you actually expected him to be experienced or not.

He didn’t exactly scream that he’d… gotten around, for lack of better words, but you’re still surprised to learn that he’s barely done it at all. You supposed he was objectively cute, that maybe you could see it if he weren’t your best friend. And yeah, he’s a little awkward, but he’s smart and kind, so he has three great things going for him, and you’re surprised more people haven’t swooped him up yet.

Your lips curled down in thought, brows raised in curiosity. “And was it good?” It was a genuine enough question, because you’ve never really thought about Spencer Reid and kissing in the same sentence before. As it turned out, there was a lot of missing information relating to those two things.

“I don’t know! I didn’t get, like, a feedback form,” he grunted, angling his shoulder even further away from you. If you could’ve seen him, you’d notice his face boiling and turning red with heat. All this inquiring made him think harder about his … talents … than he’s ever had to before, and he’s not a fan.

You were prepared to do some more digging when the slump in his back made you feel a tinge of guilt. It was your fault he looked so defeated. You pressed too hard, disregarding his boundaries just because you wanted to know more. And now, he was wondering if there was something wrong with him, because you wouldn’t leave it alone.

He barely noticed as you swung your feet from under his thigh and rocked onto your knees, leaning forward to nudge his shoulder with your palm. It hauled his attention out of his thoughts and back into the room. You wanted to apologize, but instead you settled with “I’m sure you’re fine, Spence.”

He nodded unconvincingly. By the glow of the screen, you could see he was still gnawing on the inside of his cheek, focusing his eyes as he played with a loose hangnail on one of his fingers. It made you feel even worse. “Are you actually worried about it?” you asked, laden with concern.

“What if I am bad at it?” He whispered, like saying it too loud would make it true. “And that’s why it’s only happened once?”

A large exhale puffed out of your nose as you weighed your options.

You could go back to your original plan and apologize for setting him down this path of doubt. But that wouldn’t do anything to stop him from worrying, anyway. You could tell him there’s no correlation between the way he kisses and how frequently it’s happened; that you’re sure the reason isn’t because he’s bad. But you don’t know that for sure.

So, fuck it, you thought, grabbing a fistful of his pajama shirt and tugging him closer to you roughly, pressing your lips onto his.

This way, you’d at least have an informed opinion to be able to tell him if he was good or bad.

His lips were softer than you expected – not that you’d thought about them often, they’re just impossibly softer than they look – and invitingly warm. But they were completely stiff.

You could tell he was trying to kiss you back by the way his mouth ferociously moved over yours. He was trying to be a passionate, engaged partner, but he forgot about the aspect of tenderness.

His lips felt like two solid objects just sliding around on your face. They didn’t move in any sort of accordance with yours. There was no push and pull, your lips didn’t mesh perfectly together to form a solitary unit as they moved in unison.

It felt more like his lips were your opponent, putting up an attack and defense play against the actions of your own.

You pulled away, resisting a giggle at his bewildered face. “You’re not so terrible,” you swipe the corner of your mouth, smudged with Spencer’s flavored chapstick, “But it could use some work.”

He was at a loss for words, mouth gaping open as his eyes darted around the room and all over you. Maybe he’d find an explanation for what just happened carved into the walls somewhere or written across your forehead.

What happened was that you kissed him. And he was a little bit bad. Simple as that.

“I-I wasn’t ready!” he stammered, chucking up his hands defensively. He’d process the fact that he’d just made out with his best friend at a later time, right now the bigger concern was the slight cringed look on your face. He sulked and folded his arms.“What was so bad about it?”

“Well,” you scratched the back of your ear, trying to gauge if he’d react well to getting some advice, “my first tip would be to relax your lips.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

“And don’t think too hard. You should react to what’s happening in the moment, not worrying about what your next move is gonna be.” You could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to envision what that would play out like in a real situation. “You wanna try again?” you offered, figuring he’d learn much faster if he was more hands-on about it.

He nodded, and you leaned in close, waiting for him to go for it. His heart quickened under the pressure of performance, eyes screwing shut as he closed the gap. His mouth smashed into yours as he dove in hard. It was toeing on the side of too harsh, but you let that one slide in hopes it was just a byproduct of his nerves.

You had to tap his knee to remind him to relax, and he loosened some of the tension he had in his lips. He slotted his between yours, allowing them to be pliable to your movements and remembering to react, not plan.

He moved his mouth leisurely against yours, trying to match your pressure and pacing. They actually started moving in time with yours at some point. The kiss took on a shape of its own as he started getting out of his head, letting himself enjoy the kiss for what it was in that exact moment.

It was already better than before. Leaps and bounds better. But then he tried to deepen it, building on its intensity but adding more… something into it. You couldn’t even tell what it was he was trying to do.

“Okay, second tip…” you inhaled sharply, pushing him off of you with a palm against his chest. Whatever it was, it needed to stop. “You kinda do this thing like… where you’re blowing air into my mouth?” You scrunched your nose, punctuating your dislike. “That feels weird. Don’t do that. If anything, do the opposite.”

“I’m supposed to suck the air out of your mouth?” His face contorted, voice already slightly exasperated. He barely understood what the air thing was that you claimed he did. He didn’t realize in the process of trying to add pressure to the kiss, he was just forcibly blowing against your mouth.

“Not literally, no.” You laughed a little, rubbing your palm in a comforting pattern on his chest.”But you can use your lips to suck on mine, or my tongue… just nothing involving the exchange of breath. We’re not in CPR training.”

He eased up a little with your joke, adjusting to your advice he gave it another try. After a few moments, he latched onto your bottom lip with his own, sucking it softly into his mouth. “Yeah, like that,” you mumbled against him, voice pitching high in encouragement. He sucked on it with a little more greed, holding it for a second, then eased up, varying the pressure of his movements just like you did before.

You made a mental note to praise him for that at a later time, deciding to instead part your lips to see if he’d venture into further experimentation.

He caught on quickly. He parted them further, prodding his tongue against them as you opened to allow him entry. Just as you started to really enjoy it, he ran his tongue over the inside of your mouth, moving it fast and roughly like he was a washing machine.

“Stop,” you grimaced, tearing away quickly. You had to swipe your hand over your mouth to get rid of the excess saliva that really shouldn’t have been an issue in the first place, given how brief the frenching was. “Your tongue is way too aggressive.”

Overwhelmed, he tilted his head to the ceiling and let out a frustrated grunt, slapping his hands down to the top of his thighs.

There were too many factors to worry about. He had no idea how you looked at him with a straight face and told him not to think too much when there were a million things he needed to remember all at once; he needed to vary his moves to keep it interesting, but make sure he’s not ruining the flow by changing things up too much, and to be gentle but not timid.

All of this was second nature to you, but it was brand new to Spencer. Could you really blame him for not getting the hang of it right away? You decided to stop your list of critiques short for this round to spare him. He’d get there eventually, but not if he felt discouraged too soon.

“I don’t see why people like it in the first place,” he huffed, his head returning to it’s normal posture. In Spencer’s eyes, there truly wasn’t any appeal to kissing with tongue; it looked sloppy and unnecessary, and as you’d just confirmed, it actually was.

You thought about his statement for a second. There’s a certain allure to it, and you didn’t know how to describe it to him. So instead you cupped his cheeks in both your palms and slid your mouth over his again. As his jaw slacked its tension, you slowly pushed your tongue past his lips and gently pressed it against his own before swirling them together.

You sighed softly into his mouth, running your fingers through his hair and tugging carefully at the ends. He made a small noise against you, something like a whimper, and you swallowed the vibrations of it. As you retreated, you captured his bottom lip between your teeth and gave it a light, teasing tug. You soothed it again with your lips before releasing it, a proud giggle forming in your chest as Spencer chased after your lips as you broke apart.

“That’s why.” You smirked at the dazed look on his face. His eyelids remained closed longer than necessary, still feeling the ghost of your mouth on his and a tingle where your fingers were in his hair.

“Oh.” His voice came out meek as he slowly came back to reality, brows wrinkling up his forehead as he opened his eyes.

He put both his palms down on the mattress, one laying flat on either side of you, and dove forward to resume the kiss right where you left it. A surprised squeak left you as his mouth collided with yours with an insatiable hunger. You brought one hand back to his hair, and he was a goner.

He unfolded his legs from under himself and shuffled onto his knees, following his hands until he practically crawled into your lap. Each of his legs hooked onto either side of your thighs as he hovered over your lap, leaning his body entirely into yours.

The physics of it didn’t hold up; he’s taller than you are, and his chest was too heavy for you to carry. The balance was off center and it sent you tumbling back onto the mattress, bringing him down with you until his chest laid on yours.

It was the perfect force – the weight of him on top of you. He tasted like peach candy and sour sugar, and you found yourself craving more of it.

You shuffled higher up the mattress, giving him space to stretch out his body as he followed yours. One of his hands found your waist, gripping tightly, while he placed the other on the mattress beside your head, using it to steady himself. Sliding your legs out from under him, you wrapped them on the outside of his hips, using them to pull him closer down to you.

It only broke off in moments when both of you absolutely needed to get air, gasping as you pulled apart for brief reprieve before colliding again. He followed every word of your advice, getting better with each passing second until he exceeded expectations by leaps and bounds.

Your fingers weaved through his hair, passionately tugging the wavy strands to angle him against you and igniting his nerves under your touch. A soft moan leaves him and you’re encouraged to tighten your grip on them. His hips bucked reactively at the sensation, and he quickly pulled back, a slight embarrassment creeping up his cheeks. He got too carried away.

You took in his flushed face and swollen, kiss-bruised lips. They’d turned a shade of red brighter than you’ve ever seen them, and it was all you could do not to dive for them again as his tongue sweeped over them, soothing the burning heat you’d left on them.

Before he could apologize for his eagerness, you nudged your nose against his, your smile skimming against his lips. “So what else don’t you know how to do?”

☆

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kaitsawamura · 3 years

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would you like to stay forever?

SUMMARY⎮ Sparring with Pro Hero Kirishima Eijiro in his private gym at his home doesn't seem like a bad idea if you don't count the fact that you really, really like him.

STATS⎮ minors do not interact, 18+ ⎮ Rating: M (for mature) ⎮ WC: 5525 ⎮ Pairing: Pro Hero Kirishima Eijiro x Fem!Reader ⎮ Tags: Aged Up Character(s), Friends to Lovers, Sparring, Smut, Fluff, Age/Experience Gap (if you really squint) ⎮ AO3

NOTES⎮ Thanks to @spacelabrathor for listening to me scream about this and to @some-kindofgnome for fueling my Kiri fever dreams. Yes, that title is based on a Mulan quote. This whole fic was based on THIS POST and Kirishima seemed like the perfect character for this pwp. Hope y'all enjoy! (Also please for the love of God, click on the banner to see in HD if you’re on mobile, it looks so much better lol)

It was Saturday and even though you’re on your way to becoming a Pro Hero, you can think of several things you’d rather be doing with your one day off than going to Kirishima Eijiro’s house to spar. But here you are pulling into his driveway, going over combat moves in your head as if your life depended on it. They weren’t really serving their purpose which was to distract yourself. Kiri had offered up his personal gym, encouraged you to stop by with one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing the back of his neck as if he was nervous.

A couple of his friends had already taken him up on the offer. You were the only one he’d offered who hadn’t come over yet. He had texted you a couple of weeks later saying he was starting to take it personally… and then immediately texted with a laughing emoji just to clarify he was only giving you a hard time. It brings a smile to your face now as you remember it. Yesterday he had also clarified it would just be the two of you if you were self-conscious sparring in front of other people. You’d have the whole place to yourselves. Like that should mean something. Which it did. It does , you realize with butterflies growing in your stomach. Kiri doesn’t need to know that though.

The two of you had been toeing around something since you had been hired at Fatgum’s Agency a year ago. Neither of you had made a move. Kirishima, the Red Riot, was a big Pro Hero and while you took pride in your quirk, it didn’t hold a coin to some of the others you’d come in contact with. It had surprised you when Toyomitsu had brought you on. But he had mumbled something about “liking your spunk” and that he thought a teleportation quirk would be a useful one to add to his agency. The first day you had shown up, Kiri had immediately caught your eye. Not for the obvious reasons. Obvious reasons being the fact that he was climbing the Pro Hero charts or the fact that he had a dynamically interesting quirk or that at twenty-five he was already built like a brickhouse.

Those were all valid reasons, yes, but what had pulled you in was his smile and his genuine interest in you outside of your quirk. But he was just like that you had quickly discovered. He knew everyone’s coffee order and what they liked for lunch. He knew when to push and when to back off. He knew when to talk and when to listen , knew when he still had a lesson to learn. The kids flocked to him. Even now you’re still entirely convinced that’s actually his quirk, getting people to like him. It’s not a difficult thing to do though.

Your brain stutters back to the present when a text notification pings from your cell phone as you sit in Kiri’s driveway, picking at non-existent lint on your gym shorts. The cute ones you’re still convincing yourself were your only clean pair and that’s the only reason you wore them.

KIRI : i saw u pull up, u gonna come in or what 😂

Had he been waiting for you to get there? You tapped out a quick response, one that hid the little flip in your stomach at the thought: creeper, you were watching for me lmao

Response bubbles immediately flash on your phone screen but you’re angling out of your car and shutting the door before he can reply.

Somehow, this house fits Kiri perfectly. It isn’t big. You had seen pictures of other top-ranking Pros’ houses. Enji Todoroki’s house, for example, was fucking ridiculous. But even without a massive floor plan, Kiri’s house is nicer than any you’d been in for some time. Clean, straight lines and lots of windows. In fact, you can see straight through the floor-to-ceiling windows out to his backyard when you reach the front door. Is that a pool ? Kiri had tons of fun showing pictures at the agency; it was a well-deserved investment for his already multiple years of service as a Pro. The pictures hadn’t done the place justice though.

Kiri comes to the door, throwing it wide open with a huge grin that shows off his sharp teeth. You ignore the way your mouth goes dry as he drags you in, babbling on like an excited little kid at you actually coming.

“I really thought you were gonna back out! I mean, that would have been fine, of course. I just can’t see the point of having the whole place to myself all the time.” He’s irresistibly cute, walking around showing you the living room and the kitchen and pointing out to the backyard where, yes, there is indeed a pool. “You can come over any time and use that too if you want!” You thank him, warmth pooling in your stomach at how incredibly nice he is.

“Uh, we should probably get in the gym. I have… stuff to do later,” you finish lamely. You don’t have anything to do later but very quickly you’re realizing how far out of your depth you are here. The familiar beginnings of the head over heels fall is washing over you in steady waves. But you’re coworkers and the thought of coming to work every day and having to see his adorable face and not doing anything about it is almost making you nauseous.

“Oh, yeah, it’s just down the hallway,” he rumbles, leading the way and you follow trying and failing miserably to calm the nerves flashing through your veins. You’re here alone with Kiri , the man you’ve been crushing on since you’d started working with him a year ago. And now your stupid brain isn’t just thinking about what it would feel like to run your tongue along his teeth or how his hands would feel between your legs. No, your stupid brain is thinking about what Kiri looks like when he first opens his eyes in the morning.

Your one-track mind is not getting any help, especially when Kiri walks through the doorway of the gym addition and immediately proceeds to pull his shirt up and over his shoulders and tosses it to the side. Shit. His back muscles ripple with the movement and when he turns to face you, it’s heart-wrenchingly obvious that he has no idea the effect he’s having on you. He has to know . Doesn’t he? From your end, it seems wildly obvious that someone as good-looking as him should know .

You glance around, eternally grateful for the fact that the gym is also attractive. Floor to ceiling windows span two of the walls here as well and there’s a large set of French doors leading out to the yard. You find yourself actually in awe when you get a better look at the landscaping. It’s so green . There’s a small patch of lawn but the rest is just artfully arranged native flora and fauna. Violets, tulips. Huge hosta plants. And cherry trees heavy with their signature sakura blossoms.

“Kiri, it’s beautiful!” He comes to stand beside you, looking out the French doors as well.

“You like it? I guess it is pretty nice, huh?” You glance up at him, your chest expanding on a lurch looking at his smile. You’d never noticed before but he has a light dusting of freckles across his nose.

“Yeah, really nice.” You look out again, letting the silence grow until it feels like the most comfortable thing in the world. After what seems like an eternity Kiri clears his throat, rocking back on the balls of his feet. “What are you thinking for today?” The question leaves your lips and you’re immediately regretting it; your stomach flips again when Kiri looks at you like you’re prey.

“Close combat, hand-to-hand combat. You did mention a while ago you wanted to strengthen that, right?” You throw your head back, rolling your eyes, and groan. The two of you make your way to the center of the mat.

“Yeah, I mean, I’d be scared to take me on too,” Kiri says, large hands on even larger hips. He isn’t as tall as some of the other heroes at six foot three inches but he’s wide , thick. You know for a fact you couldn’t wrap your arms around his waist and have your hands meet. He’s wearing the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen. The sharpened points of his canines are out and on prominent display. Famous last words you think as a snarl erupts on your face.

“I’m not scared , Kiri. I just don’t want to wear you out . You’re a Pro Hero. You’re on the job a lot more than I am. Plus, you’re getting kind of old. Is that a little gray I see coming in?” Kiri bares his teeth even more but it’s not lost on you that he quickly reaches up to rake his fingers through his hair. There isn’t any gray, obviously , but the thought has Red Riot distracted. Distracted enough that when you plant your feet and your fist connects with his face, your knuckles hit skin and not the reinforced rock of his quirk.

“ Shit.” Kiri takes a step back, reaching up to cradle his jaw. His tongue swipes out to lick at the blood on his bottom lip. His vermillion eyes find yours and if you didn’t work with him on a regular basis, you would have felt fear at this moment. You know he wouldn’t hurt you but even now, a thrill races through your veins like electricity. He looks as if he’s going to devour you. You take your own step back, readying your quirk, reaching out to it as your fists hold their position in front of your body. A dark chuckle spills from his chest as Kiri calls on his own quirk.

Now it was your turn to be distracted; you had always been fascinated by Kiri’s quirk, the way his body looked when it hardened up. The ripples of muscle still visible under the toughened skin. The divots and ridges and how they mapped their way across his shoulders and chest and abdomen. You knew how it felt to the touch in fake combat. The Fatgum heroes all took pride in maintaining a healthy routine; sparring was a common workout that was previously done at a local public gym. You wonder absently what it would feel like to touch him slow and at the moment. When you could give extra attention with extra time.

Kiri closes the space between the two of you at the moment your mind strays and you barely are able to teleport out of the way to avoid him crashing into you. You try to take a swipe at him as you materialize from in front of him to behind but this time he’s ready for you and he’s using his quirk. Instead of moving out of the way, he plants his feet and allows your punch to hit. Pain radiates up through your fingers and wrist. It always irritated you that you had to prepare yourself to strike Kiri when he was using his quirk. Otherwise, you’d be in for a whole lot of hurt every time you landed a punch.

Teleportation is a pretty handy quirk. It gives you a pretty good advantage the more you work on your close combat skills. The trick with Kiri was to keep going at him until he ran out of energy. You hadn’t gotten to that point yet; your quirk had its limits as well. You were only two years out of UA, Kiri was out by seven. His strength was already fairly unmatched; sparring with him was always good practice. You relish the thought of the day you can win a sparring session without tapping out. It surges through you like pure energy.

You teleport to stand in front of him again, shifting your weight into your hips and up through your right hook. This time your fist connects with Kiri’s side and he lets out a small grunt. Your fingers don’t hurt so bad this time and by the time Kiri is retaliating, you jump back a few feet. He hmms, a sound that reverberates from his chest.

“That’s all well and good but how do you expect to do anything if you jump that far away?” He lunges forward at a running start, leaping at the last second, sending his gloved fist into your stomach. You were fast, but still not always fast enough. You double over, the air rushing from your lungs and your pre-workout protein smoothie threatening to exit back the way it went in. Sweat is already beading on your brow and sliding under your tank top. You take a few breaths through your nose when an idea pops into your head; you stay bent over. “Hey, I didn’t hit you that hard. You good?”

Kiri comes to stand in front of you, leaving him vulnerable. He can’t see your smirk until it’s too late. You wail on him, using some of the basic combos he’s taught you before today. Satisfaction rolls through you when he actually takes a step back. But then he puts his arms up in front of him, clenching his abdomen and bending inward to protect his core. He drops just a fraction and before you realize what’s happening, he’s swiping his leg out to push through yours. You watch in slow motion as you see his laughing face then the ceiling of the gym as you flip and land on your back.

If you thought you were out of breath before… “Fuuu-.” It’s a wheeze that feels like it’s ripping your chest open. You’re seeing stars. Kiri stands over you, hands on his hips again. You stare at his face; the hero has his hair pulled back into a bun. You snort, rolling your eyes. Why does he still look so fucking good? The sweat has caused some of the pieces falling out of his hair tie to curl. His hair has curl to it? You’ve never noticed before, considering he always gels it into spikes. You like the curl. “Are you--are you gonna help me up, or what?” It was still painful to talk.

Kiri tilts his head to the side, just slightly, and crosses his arms. “I’m thinking not. Last time I let down my guard you got those good combos in.” You stare in stunned silence, sitting up so you’re supported by your elbows. Kiri shifts slightly and if you didn’t know better, you’d say he’s backing up to… get a better view.

“Is that any way to treat your student, Red Riot?” You know you get under his skin when he clicks his tongue against his teeth and holds out a hand with a begrudging eye roll. He pulls you up with ease, quickly enough that you almost lose your balance, swaying into his space. You look up, eyes moving back and forth between his.

He draws in a breath and drags his bottom lip between his teeth. “First of all,” he says as he places his hands on your upper arms, “I’m not your teacher. I’m not that much older than you. Secondly,” he mutters as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear, “our relationship isn’t that formal is it?” He’s so fucking close. This is getting dangerous. Dangerous because Kiri is within kissing distance. Dangerous because this gentle side of him is making you lose more breath than falling on your ass. Dangerous because the thought of Kiri taking you on the floor right now is almost too much to bear.

So you fall back on what you’re here to do. Fight. You flash him a wicked smile before rallying your quirk and teleporting a few feet away. His hand is still raised in mid-air and when his head whips to look in your direction, his crimson eyes are narrowed and his nostrils are flared. He laughs and rolls his neck, dancing on his toes.

“Okay. I see. I’m not gonna go easy on you, you know?” You snort and put your fists up in front of you again.

“As if you were going easy on me before, Kiri. Bring it on.” He smiles, the sharp points of his teeth enough to make your thoughts swerve again before you bring them under control. “Bring it on,” you whisper more to yourself as you brace for the fight.

Two hours later, you feel the strain in your muscles. Your quirk is running low on reserves and you know you won’t be able to use it much more. Kiri looks like he hasn’t wasted a breath but you can see he’s getting tired in the way his feet don’t move as sharply. And if the length of time he’s using his quirk is any indication to his state of mind, you know the two of you will be calling it a day soon. But you’re also both stubborn. And you’re dying to get one more good move in on him.

The cockiness the two of you had at the beginning of the sparring session hasn’t gone away but has burned hot into determination. No more smiles, only clear-headed concentration. The two of you are an arm's length from each other, throwing various punches and switching quickly between using your quirks and not. You’re breathing hard, sweat gathering at your brow as you throw another right hook that Kiri easily blocks.

“Get out of your head. You can be too predictable sometimes.” He doesn’t mean for it to come across as rude but the words strike a match to a guttering fire. You bare your own teeth at Kiri even though they aren’t sharp and probably don’t look nearly as threatening but it helps you feel powerful nonetheless. You drop without a second thought, lowering to your palms and sweeping your leg out in front of you in a wide arc. A grin spreads across your face when your calf meets Kiri’s ankle. He’s too physically dense for this move to work if he had seen it coming. But he doesn’t. And his solid 220 pounds of muscle falls hard.

You allow yourself the satisfaction of the moment for only a split second; Kiri’s recovery time is much shorter than yours so it isn’t long before he’s scrambling forward. He goes straight for your wrists to subdue you but with a smirk, you realize in his haste he’s put himself in the perfect position for you to possibly gain the upper hand. You scoot up away from him just enough to drag his arm forward and swing your legs around his neck. Then you elevate your hips and lock your core.

It’s over from there as you squeeze with every last ounce of strength left in your body. It doesn’t take long for him to tap out. You release as soon as you feel his loose hand tap your arm; he collapses over you and you’re too tired to move away or push him off. Now his breathing is rough and you feel a surge of pride. You reach up and place your hand on his head where his bun has come undone; he’s so heavy but it doesn’t feel bad. In fact, the feel of Kirishima resting his head and upper chest on your stomach is feeling nothing short of good . He’s still between your legs and suddenly the air is crackling with a new kind of energy when you gently comb your fingers through his hair.

He rises up, his hands on either side of you. His hips rest between your legs; the mingled heat radiating from both of you is almost more than you can take but there is no way you’re going to move anywhere. He leans forward, so close you can see the flecks of burnt orange in his eyes. If you moved forward just a little, you could close that space between you. He leans down more, his mouth right next to the shell of your ear.

“Maybe not always predictable. You did good today. Probably some of the best fighting I’ve seen from you so far. Keep it up.” He grunts, a shift of his hips allowing the curve of his cock to brush against your clothed sex through his gym shorts. He stiffens in what you think might be embarrassment. “Shit, sorry, let me just, uh--” The stuttering mess he becomes right before your eyes makes something lurch in your chest; you reach for his face without thinking.

“Kiri,” you whisper, rolling your own hips against his. His cheeks are burning a shade of red almost as vibrant as his hair. You bring up your other hand, holding his face between them and bringing him down to settle over you once more. Your lips meet his; he seems to war with himself for just a moment. A suspended second in time. But then he gives in, slipping his tongue against yours in a delicious sliding vision of what’s coming.

He reaches between you to slip his hand under your tank top; his hand is big and nearly encompasses your side. But it’s warm and gentle. Gentle. Who would have guessed that Red Riot could be so fucking gentle? But he is and when his hand moves lower to slide below the hem of your shorts, you give yourself to him with no reservations. His middle finger passes through the mess of your sex; a hissed breath rattles through his chest as your back arches on a ragged groan.

“ Shit. You’re so wet .” He slides his finger back and forth, gathering your slick on the thick digit. He takes his hand away and you mewl. “Can I?” He asks breathlessly as he hooks his hands on the hem of your shorts. You nod, eyes half-lidded. He pulls them down along with your underwear and the way he looks at you, at what’s between your legs, you don’t even have the wherewithal to feel self-conscious. Adoration. It’s the only word you can think of and it makes you wonder if you’d made a mistake waiting so long.

He’s on his knees when he takes your legs and drapes them on either side of his hips; this time he doesn’t hesitate in slipping his finger into your cunt. You nearly see stars just from that and if one finger is any indication, you’re in for it. Slowly, he adds another, his hand pumping into you in a steady rhythm. You’re grabbing for the ground, grabbing for him as a strangled noise pushes from your throat. He reaches out with his other hand to splay it across your sternum and it’s the only thing anchoring you as he adds the third finger before scooting down to put his mouth on your clit.

“ Kiri,” you keen, shoving your hips into his touch, frantically scrabbling for his wrist that’s on your chest just to have something to hold on to. He’s done this before, he’s had to. He’s too good. Too fucking good. Already there’s coiling in your gut as incomprehensible words tumble from your mouth. “Shit. Shit. Kiri I’m--I’m gonna--” He rumbles approvingly against your clit; the vibrations send you closer and closer to the edge and when it crests, your back arches near pain as you cry out, your voice echoing in the gym. It’s deep, roaring through all of your limbs but Kiri keeps going, fingers still pumping, tongue still swirling around your sensitive nub.

Another orgasm breaks over you sharp and quick and the overstimulation has your legs quaking as your arousal gushes over Kiri’s hand and tongue. But then he’s moving again, and you’re blearily aware that he’s shoving his own shorts and boxers past his hips to free his cock. You stare as it bounces back to sit near the planes of his stomach; it’s already leaking steadily with precum. Kiri looks back at you and when your eyes meet, you dart your tongue out between your lips to wet them. Another time, maybe.

Kiri leans forward to lift you up and the closer you get you can barely see any red in his eyes; his pupils are blown, his nostrils flared as he lifts you like you weigh nothing . He could snap you like a twig. But he won’t. You know without a doubt this is the safest you’ve ever felt, even as he lowers you slowly over his cock and it does feel like you’re being split .

“ Fuuuck…” You wrap your legs around him, your mouth dropped open, your hands gripping his shoulders. You try not to dig your nails in but it’s almost impossible with how you’re being filled. You knew Kiri was big but this was almost too much. His forehead drops to yours as he pants. But he’s not moving, won’t move until you tell him to. It makes your heart ache and your cunt floods, drunk on the affection thrumming through your veins. You roll your hips experimentally and the friction is bliss. “Oh fuck, ohfuck.” You move again, pushing yourself up and back down, listening to the hitch in his breathing. “ Kiri, please, ” you whisper. Those words… they’re enough.

Kirishima grips you by the hips, his fingers splayed and digging into the flesh; it’ll leave bruises and the knowledge cracks through you like electricity. Let him leave marks. Let him leave them everywhere. He’s moving you up and down his cock, grunting, mumbling. “Tell me, Kiri, tell me.” His eyes meet yours again and his own mouth drops open.

“Fuck, you’re so good. S’ tight. Jesus, I-- ” Kiri moves his hands from your hips to support you as he lays you down on the floor of the gym. The idea should be questionable but it’s not, it’s fucking not and you can’t concentrate on any other thoughts when Kiri grabs your wrists and pins them gently above your head with one hand while the other comes back to your hip. He thrusts into you at a brutal pace but… it feels like home and you think in that moment as your cunt begins to seize around his cock that you would give up forever to continue touching him.

“Yes, Kiri, yes. Right there, right--shit yesyes yes. ” He pistons up, the veins of his cock rubbing just right and when he releases the grip on your hands, they’re moving to wrap around him on instinct. He’s planting kisses along your jaw, mouthing up to your lips and back down to graze his teeth over your pulse point. “Do it, fuckin’ do it, let them know ‘m yours, ” you slur and when he bites down you crash over the edge on a groan that’s really more of a scream. Everything goes black but you're cradling him to you as his movements become more erratic. The snapping of his hips is getting sloppier by the second and a steady growl punches from his lungs with each breath. “Cum, Kirishima, cum inside me.”

He’s never heard those words before and it lights a fire in his veins. His head is buzzing and then he can’t hear anything as his cock releases and he’s spurting searing hot ropes of cum into your cunt. He goes until you’ve milked every last drop from him and he’d be lying if he said his world didn't suddenly feel whole. Finally, his body settles and his chest drops to yours. Everything slowly bleeds back into focus and somehow, everything seems more colorful than it did moments before. You’re still clinging to him.

“Kiri. Kiri, babe, I can’t breathe,” you say and he slowly rises, taking in your blissed-out expression. Your eyes can barely stay open, your cheeks are flushed. He backs up to see his handiwork on display, hyper-focused on the trail of the mingling cum dripping from the mess of your sex. But you’re smiling. Lazy and tired, completely at ease. “Wanna take a shower?” When you nod he doesn’t hesitate in standing to kick his underwear and shorts the rest of the way off his legs and then he’s grabbing you, scooping you into his arms and against his chest. He pads out of the gym and across the hall to his bathroom where he deposits you on your feet, only after he’s sure you can stand and only long enough to turn the shower head-on.

He puts his hand under the water, waiting for it to get warm. Steam billows from behind the glass door when he’s turning back to you to remove your tank top and your sports bra. Thank god you chose the front-closure one today; you didn’t think either one of you wanted to struggle to get one up over your head right now. When your breasts spill out of the high-impact fabric, you notice with tender amusement that his cock is half-hard again. His eyes go dark again and he leans in for a kiss. But it's slow and sweet.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful," he whispers. He ignores his arousal, ushering you into the stream of water. Your care is the only thing that matters to him right now. The heat slides across your body, and when Kirishima steps up behind you and begins soaping up your shoulders, it feels like heaven .

You take turns washing each other until you’re both blissed out in a different kind of way and the only thing either one of you can think about is sleep. But the afterglow is fading and doubt is creeping in. When you step out of the water, you stand awkwardly as Kiri hands you a towel. “You okay?” He’s actually concerned and you can’t put your finger on why you’re so fucking grateful for it.

“Yea, just tired. I should, uh, probably get going.” Kiri freezes and you think you’ve said something wrong, already crossed a line. Your brain is like a broken record as the stomach-curdling image of having to see him at the agency flashes across your eyes in vivid detail. But then he’s stepping into your space and pulling you in for a hug. A hug.

“Don’t go,” he whispers into the crown of your head and it has you smiling like an idiot against his chest. His skin smells clean and warm with a hint of spice. You bury your face further in as you nod against him. Then he’s leading you to his room, to the king-sized bed. He peels back the comforter and the white sheets and pulls you in beside him. Your back is against him and he hooks his foot around your ankles, bringing you even closer.

He doesn’t say anything more, just lets out a huge sigh as he wraps his arm around you. The last thing you notice before your eyes flutter shut is how your heartbeats are thumping at the same steady rhythm.

Late afternoon sunlight slants in Kirishima’s bedroom window, creating interesting patterns across his blanket. It’s pushed towards the end of the bed, your legs intertwined and tangled in the sheets. He’s still dozing, his breathing not quite that of someone sleeping but not of a person fully awake. You reach out to cup his cheek, stroke above his eyebrows, caress his lips with your thumb. A contented sigh leaves his chest as he grabs your hand and kisses your wrist. His eyes are open now and he watches you. You smile at him, snuggling closer, not wanting the moment to end.

“Hey,” he says quietly, suddenly serious. “I just want you to know, I don’t do this all the time. I mean, I’ve been with other people before but I don’t… I don’t really hook up .” Things start clicking into place as you realize what he’s trying to get across. He just fucked you stupid in his personal gym and somehow he looks bashful. And because you love it, you’re not going to help him along. You just watch, biting your lip to keep from giggling. “I just. I guess what I’m trying to say is I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time. And normally I would have wined and dined you first but... Well. Here we are. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

That’s the last straw; your laughter comes bubbling out of you and Kiri is leaning back to look at you with a quizzical expression on his face. “Is something funny?” That just makes you laugh a little harder but the confused look he’s wearing has you leaning in to press your lips against his.

“I’ve liked you from the first day I met you, Kiri. I’ll one-up your offer and tell you that I might like to stay forever.” A grin rips across his face and your heart blooms with warmth and affection. The world seems full of possibilities but none of them matter except for the possibility laying right in front of you.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima eijiro #kirishima eijirou #pro hero kirishima #red riot #kirishima smut #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #kaitsuki writes #oh my god i had such brain block #writing this one #because i get too in my head writing smut #BUT i hope everyone still enjoys #we stan kiri in this house

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rebeccccccaaa · 3 years

Text

ᖇᑌᑎᑎIᑎG ᒪᗩTE

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ᴘᴇᴛᴇʀ ᴘᴀʀᴋᴇʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ|| (ANON) SMUT- Peter Parker x reader, he comes home late from a mission in his uniform and they either have sex because the reader wants him to use all of his power, or they have “ I’m sorry I’m late” sex, but overall the reader is seduced by his spider suit ❤️🖤

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs|| smutttt 18+ minors dni, it’s a little crazy, rough shower sex of which i don’t condone because your ass could fall and die lol but this is fanfiction so… also tiny bit of fluff that’s kinda it

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs|| i had a vision with the late concept lmaoooo so here ya go lolz

____________________________

“Where are you?”

“Sorry I know I'm supposed to be there right now, but these assholes starting robbing Mr. Delmar and I couldn’t let that slide, you know how it is, babe,” Peter said through the phone, or his suit really.

“I know but you promised you were gonna be on time this time,” you whined.

“I know and I promise I’ll- Shit!”

“Are you ok?” you asked quickly.

“Yeah, I’m good, Haha! These guys kinda suck,” he chuckled.

“Anyways, I promise I’ll be there in a bit; and I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he told you.

“Ok fine, my window’s unlocked,” you told him unenthusiastically.

“I love you!”

“What the fuck?” you heard a muffled voice in the background.

“Not you asshole!” you giggled before hanging up the phone.

You turned on your TV and just waited for Peter. Your roommate was out of town for spring break and you asked Peter if he wanted to spend the week with you. He said yes but he still had to pratol at night and report to Happy. He’s been coming back home too late and you made him promise to come home before; you felt like a strict mother and it was weird.

You looked at the time again at almost ten, you rolled your eyes and continued watching the screen mindlessly. It wasn’t until around ten thirty that Peter busted through the window startling you.

“Holy shit!” you shrieked.

“I’m here! I’m so sorry, baby,” he cringed at the cold look you gave him.

“You suck,” you simply said before heading to the bathroom.

“Come on, princess. I had to fight bad guys!” he wrapped his arm around you. You pushed his hand away trying your hardest to not laugh or smirk.

“Babe, please? Talk to me,” he pouted.

You turned on the water to take a shower. You stripped extra slowly just to tease him hearing him groan under his breath. You stepped in the foggy glass shower giggling quietly when you heard shuffling and grunts, things falling all over the place.

Peter easily slipped his body against yours, wrapping his arms around your naked body and his head buried in your neck. He kissed your neck hoping to pull the usual giggle from you but no, nothing. He peered his head around to look at your face and pouted when held your stoic expression.

“Baby,” he whined.

“Hm?” you pretended to hardly hear him.

“I promised to make it up to you and you’re not letting me,” he pouted.

“No, you promised to come home on time,” you argued.

“But I was fighting bad guys!” he whined

“And I’m taking a shower,” you smirked.

Peter let out a long whine and you grinned devilishly not budging. His hands roamed your body and it was getting harder and harder to resist his advances. You grabbed the body wash but Peter snatched from your hand squirting some soap on the washcloth and slowly rubbing it over your skin. He was teasing you now. He ran soap along his finger before brushing over your core making you shudder.

“I wanna make you feel good, princess,” he whispered huskily in your ear.

“Peter,” you whimpered.

“You gonna let me make it up to you?” he bit your ear softly.

“Fuck,” you felt Peter finger stroking your folds again; his thumb grazing your clit making your body jolt.

Peter’s lips continued softly pressing against your neck and you could feel his dick harden and poke your bottom. He grabbed your hips and spun you around; you instantly wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You’re so pretty.”

“You're compliments aren’t going to save your ass, I’m still mad that you came so late.”

“Are you gonna let me make it up?”

“How exactly are you going to make it up?” you teased.

“I have a few things in mind.”

He pressed you back against the cold tiled wall and fell to his knees peppering kisses as he did. He lifted your leg and hiked it over his shoulder before pressing his warm and wet tongue flat against your pussy.

You reached down and brushed the wet hairs that stuck to his forehead before combing them back. He peered up at you with his big innocent brown eyes and you moaned with your bottom lip between your teeth. Your chest moved rapidly up and down as Peter’s tongue moved faster against you.

Every flick over your clit brought you closer to your high and your legs were beginning to tremble. Peter gripped the back of your thighs hard surely to leave marks, holding you steady so you wouldn’t collapse on him. He dipped his tongue past your entrance and you gasped at the feeling of his tongue swirling inside you.

“Aw, shit,” you moaned, hitting your head on the wall as you threw your head back.

“Taste so fucking good, baby girl. Fucking delicious,” Peter said dipping his fingers inside you before thrusting them in and out of you quickly.

“Oh, fucking shit, Peter!” you moaned, tightening your stomach as you breached your release.

“You gonna come? Come all over my fingers like a fucking whore?” his words made you gasp as you never actually heard such filth come from Peter, especially during sex; but you’d be a liar if it hadn’t made your knees buckle.

“Shit!” you trembled gripping tightly onto Peter’s hair pulling a moan that drove you over the edge.

Peter leaned forward, lapping up all that you released on his hand. He pulled his fingers out before standing up and sucking on them as he stared directly into your eyes. You bit your lip watching him suck his fingers clean. When he released them with a lewd pop, you grabbed the back of his neck, crashing your lips bruisingly with his tasting yourself on his tongue.

He moaned deeply and it was music to your ears. He had his hand next to your head and you gripped onto it when you felt his aching erection poking between your thighs. You reached down with your other hand and stroked him softly emitting a pleasurable grunt from him.

He grabbed the backs of your thighs whispering, Jump, in your ear. He pressed his body flushed against yours to hold you up your perked nipples pressing against his chest making Peter shudder. He lined his thick cock pushing slowly past your fold stretching you out perfectly just the way you like it.

“So fucking tight, princess,” he mumbled in your neck.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Pete,” you whimpered.

“Nu-uh, you’re gonna hold it until I’m ready, got it?”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Be a good girl and listen to daddy.” This new side was very appealing to you.

“Fuck I can feel you so deep,” you cupped his face. You and Peter only ever really had sex in missionary; ocasionally you rode him but it wasn’t often. Having him rut into you like this, he was hitting deep inside you that no one has ever reached before. It felt so good, you weren’t going to last until he was ready.

“Ugh, daddy! Daddy please let me cum!” you whined.

“Just wait,” he grunted, rutting his hips faster and harder into you making your squeak.

“Fucking desperate little whore. Practically begging daddy to let you come,” Peter wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed the sides lightly.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out; eyes rolling back and your mouth dropping open. Your walls began clenching tightly around Peter’s cock and his hips suddenly bucked into you when you did.

“Fuck, do that again, princess,” he growled.

You clenched again hearing Peter’s satisfying moan. He was chasing his orgasm; his hips moving wildly, animalistically. You whimpered and tears brimmed your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure that coated your body.

“You ready baby?” he whispered against your lips.

“Fuck yes!” you cried.

“Come, baby. Come all my cock,” he reached his fingers to rub your clit harshly and it drove you over the edge. Your body tightened and shook as you came with a scream. Peter released his hold on your neck and buried his face in your neck.

You two steady yourselves for a minute before Peter slowly and carefully set you back to the ground. When you did, your knees wobbled and you gripped onto Peter to stabilize yourself. He chuckled, holding you closely before pressing faint kisses to your still wet skin. He grabbed the wash cloth once again and quickly cleaned you up before cleaning himself.

The water was extremely cold now and you trembled terribly. He turned the water off and grabbed a warm and fluffy towel wrapping it around you tightly. He lifted you bridal style and carried you to the bedroom placing you gently on the bed.

He grabbed some clothes for you to wear to sleep; pressing kisses along your legs as he pulled your clean panties and pajama bottoms up your legs. Light feathery kisses littered your belly and chest as he pulled a shirt over your head.

You smiled softly at him pecking his lips quickly before crawling under the sheets. Peter threw on some sweats and crawled into the bed with you pulling close to his side. You rested your head on his shoulder looking lovingly up at him and your hands on his bare chest.

“I like that side of you. Daddy,” you teased.

“I don't know what came over me. Sorry if I was too rough,” he said shyly.

“No it was perfect. I didn’t know you had that in you. We should do that more often,” you brushed your leg up his suggestively.

“Really?”

“Mh-hm,” you nodded with a grin on your face.

“Maybe we should,” he kissed your nose. There was a quick moment of silence that settled over you peacefully, your heavy eyes closing ready to fall asleep before you spoke up again.

“I’m still upset that you were late,” you whispered.

“Dammit,” Peter grunted.

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ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison

@buckybarnes101

@l-sofiamia-l

@pluto-grl

@partr1dge

#peter parker smut #aged!up peter parker smut #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #tom holland smut #marvel fics #marvel smut

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

Note

Hey idk if I’ve asked for this before but can you do nsfw Bakugo x fem reader fic, where you do work studies with him. He’s obviously going to be a little older 3-6 years, and you two have know each other since you were kids and he’s always just been a little nicer to you and cared about you more than others, and when you are working with him you get hurt and he flips out. You’re really confused and your like “wtf why do you care this isn’t affecting your job” and he gets mad your not getting the hint that he cares about you in a “not friendly” way, he ends up tch’ing and just says frick it and confesses that he has feelings for you and you’re just like cool I reciprocate and he’s like “with”... it just gets frisky from there... Idk if this is like a thing you might be interested in writing about, but like it just an idea😃... Anyways I love your work please keep it up🥺(sorry for any grammatical errors I’m writing this at 2:30am)

What Took So Long? - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugo x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, f!receiving, mutual pining, angst, injury, fluff, cursing, all the good stuff

BAKUGOU”S MASTERLIST

Summary: you and Katsuki have been close friends for forever, how long is it gonna take to realize both your love is mutual?

Growing up, you and Katsuki got along really well. You knew him before he got his quirk so you got to see his non-egotistical self. You saw the him that was kind and caring and he always looked out for you, always took care of you, always was there for you. In your eyes, you thought he thought it was in a big brother kinda way. Oh how that changed once you both became teenagers.

You both made it into UA, of course at different times, but you still kept in touch. You guys hung out like, everyday! It was always wake up, FaceTime, go to school, text throughout the day, and meet and go to either your house or his. It was like there was nobody else in the world except you two.

Throughout the years, you developed a small crush on the blonde boy. What went from a small crush turned into love. To you, it was unreciprocated love. He was 3 years older than you! He had to have seen you as a little sister. It only made sense! When you came to that terribly incorrect realization, you pushed back your feelings. What you had with Katsuki was special! You’re friendship meant the world to you. It didn’t matter if you wanted more, what you had was already perfect, there was no way it could’ve gotten better than this.

—

This. These moments. These memories being made with Katsuki kept you sane. As you both cuddled up and watched a trashy reality tv show in your room on your computer, you both threw popcorn at the screen at the cringe scenes.

“BoooooOOOOO!!” You both said as you threw a handful of the buttery snack. You both laughed at the moment as you settled down again. With you both laying on each other, your head on his, while his own rested on your shoulder, you were sure both of you would get neck pains the next day.

“So,” Katsuki started up a conversation, “how’s your third year at UA?”

“Ugh, don’t get me started. Classes got crazy hard outta nowhere. BUT, lucky for me, I have a UA graduate to help me out!” You said while nudging his arm.

“No way teddy bear, you’re finishing that on your own. As a graduate, that means I don’t gotta deal with that bullshit anymore.” He said as he popped some pieces of the snack into his mouth. With that, you pouted. Something he noticed and thought was insanely adorable. He poked your plump lips and told you, “hey, I’m helping you by letting you do your work study at my agency. You’re very welcome for that.”

“Helping? Suuukkiiii, you barely let me go out and fight. How am I supposed to get experience and actually do my work study if I don’t...you know..WORK?” You whined out. Katsuki had always been avoiding this topic. Yeah, he let you get your credits by going to his agency, but he never let you do any real hero work other than paperwork. Don’t get me wrong, you loved hanging out with him as much as you could, but it was beginning to get boring not doing anything at the agency.

“Y/N, no. You’re getting enough experience. Paper work is a big part in the life of a Pro,” he argued.

“Yeah, well saving people and actually getting out there in the field is a bigger part in the life of a pro.” You rebuttled as you flopped down next to him. You looked at him with puppy eyes and he knew what was coming.

“No.”

“Pleaseee Suki!”

“No.”

“Pleaseee!!”

“Nope.”

“Sukiiiiiii!!” You whined while tugging at his arm. He sighed before answering.

“One job, WITH ME, and that’s all you get.” He said while staring at you with a stern look. You smiled and jumped in the air.

“YESSSS!!”

—

So now here you are, on job number whatever. You weren’t sure how many you’ve actually been on because ever since your first job with Katsuki was a huge success, he let you join him more and more. You were almost like a partner to him now, fighting crime together. Except this time...things went a little south.

As the villain struck you down mid air with his quirk, you fell to the ground with a now burned arm. Katsuki saw red. No fucking way. No way in HELL is he going to let some shit faced freak bring harm to his teddy bear, his world, his best friend, and the love of his life. Yup. Katsuki Bakugou fell for his best friend. But could you blame him? You knew him better than anyone else, you guys got along so well, you were absolutely gorgeous and he was sure he’d give his life for you. 100%. So when this scum bag thought he could try and ruin you, he saw red. Blasting him a thousand times over and once he was sure he was out cold, battered, bloodied, and bruised he ran to check on you.

You were sitting on the ground holding your left arm where the burn mark was. Your costume was tattered and your head felt like it was gonna blow. Katsuki came along and didn’t really help with that all too much.

“YOU FUCKING DUMBASS!” He screamed. Oh, the throbbing your head had only increased with his booming voice.

“You see?! This is exactly why I hate bringing you along! You’re always gonna get hurt!” He said as he picked you up off the ground to help you stand.

“Of course I’m gonna get hurt Dynamight, my job as a hero includes a little beating every now and then for the sake and safety of others!” You replied, raising your voice as well.

“You’re NOT a hero Y/N!” He said as he reached out for your arm.

“Yet! Not yet at least! But I will be!” You replied while pulling away from him. His eyes were shaken and it was clear he was mad. You pushing his buttons didn’t help soothe his anger either.

“NO YOU WONT. Y/N ITS SO OBVIOUS YOU’D MAKE A SHIT HERO! YOU ALREADY GOT HURT ON SUCH A SIMPLE JOB, DO YOU HONESTLY THINK ANYBODY WOULD BE WILLING TO DEPEND ON YOU FOR THEIR SAFETY?!?!?” Bakugou heard the words he said and he thought he was doing the right thing. Granted, he knew the delivery was bad, but his message was in there. He didn’t want Y/N to be hurt. If she died on the battle field, Katsuki wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Y/N can’t be a hero, for her safety and his sanity. He loved her too much to have to watch her take beating after beating. However, Y/N took it in a completely different way.

“Are you trying to say I can’t be a good hero?!” You asked filled with anger and hurt.

“Y/N,”

“It’s H/N, Dynamight. That’s the name you’ll address me as for when we’re on the job. That’s the name you’ll have to get used to because I will be a hero!” You exclaimed.

“You can’t be a hero Y/N! You’re gonna get hurt! You always get hurt! You’d be more of a burden on a mission instead of an advantage! So just stop trying ‘Cuz you’re never gonna make it!” He screamed at you. Is this what he really thought of you. That you were weak and wouldn’t be able to do jack shit? As your eyes began to water, you walked away from him in silence.

“Y/N...where are you going?” He asked you as he followed.

“Recovery girl. She’ll heal me up and I’ll be perfectly fine.” You simply stated.

“At least let me help you,” Bakugou said as he tried to reach out to you, but you only stepped away from him again, which made his heart hurt a little.

“Don’t touch me, Bakugou. I’ll be fine on my own.” You said.

“Bakugou? Who the fuck are you talking to teddy bear?” He said as he got all up in your face. You only rolled your eyes and stepped to the side. You used your quirk to get into the air and travel faster. In the dust, you left behind a confused and hurt Katsuki.

“Uhh....Okay! See you later for movie night!” He yelled out as he watched you fly off. You’d still show up, right? Yeah, you’d show. You always spent everyday together after school and work so it only made sense...right?

—

Well he was wrong. Really wrong. It’s been a week since you last spoke to him, the longest it’s ever been, and he was starting to get into a depressing cycle. Wake up, call Y/N. No reply. Get ready, spam her. No reply. Go to work, text Y/N throughout the day. No reply. Get out of work, go home, shower, eat dinner, do whatever while stalking your social media, go to bed, spam a little more, call twice more, and still. No reply. He misses his teddy bear.

Y/N doesn’t even go to her work study anymore. She’s been doing everything she could to avoid Bakugou, and he’s noticed it all too well. He still gave her the credits, he wanted her to pass of course, but he was also tempted to stop doing that just so she could show up and see him. Thankfully he didn’t.

Now here lies Bakugou Katsuki, watching a movie by himself again, hoping his crush and best friend would show up. But again, like every other night for the past week, she hasn’t shown. The end credits roll in and Bakugou sighs as he looks down, thinking back to all he said.

‘Y/N ITS SO OBVIOUS YOU’D MAKE A SHIT HERO! ... DO YOU HONESTLY THINK ANYBODY WOULD BE WILLING TO DEPEND ON YOU FOR THEIR SAFETY?! ... you’re never gonna make it!’

Bakugou flopped down onto his bed.

“Great idea Katsuki, tell your dream girl she won’t ever reach her goals. That’ll win her heart,” he sarcastically said aloud as he cringed at his own thoughts. Bakugou just let a few tears fall, before rolling over and going to bed. He had patrol in the morning, maybe it’ll get his mind off of Y/N.

—

Orrrr maybe not. Because here he was, Pro-hero Dynamight, following around his 18 year old crush as she walked home after getting some coffee from their favorite cafe. Should he have been on patrol keeping the city safe? Yes. But was he going to take this chance to talk to Y/N to fix this shit? Yes.

Once Y/N made it to her doorstep she heard a voice behind her.

“Glad you made it home safe..Maybe we could pick up on that trashy reality show now that we’re both here,” Katsuki said while trying to joke around. Y/N only rolled her eyes at the hero and attempted to put her key into the lock. Katsuki was quick to react though. He snatched her keys out of her hand before speaking again.

“Y/N please! I can’t live like this! I can’t live without you in my life. You’ve been absent for a week and it’s been driving me insane!” He said while holding onto your wrist.

“Katsuki, give me back my keys.” You calmly said.

“Y/N, just hear me out.” He also calmly said.

“And listen to you say what Katsuki?! That I’ll never be a hero? That even if I was I’d be a terrible one? That I should just give up and stop trying?! Don’t worry, I already have. So now, let me go-“ Bakugou shut you up with a kiss. You were shocked and froze up. He kissed you with such passion and you melted into it, closing your eyes and letting him hold you as he pleased. He speperated from you before speaking again.

“You are not a terrible hero. Y/N you’re one of the strongest people I know. If anything, you’d be a better hero than me...but if you got hurt, I don’t know what I would do.” He said looking down. You turned your head in confusion at his small confession.

“Katsuki?..”

“When you got hurt that day, I was livid. I almost killed that guy, just for scorching your arm. There are so many worse things that could happen to you when you do become a pro and the fact that I freaked out so bad over a little burn is insane! I just want you to be safe. I can’t let you risk your life when I need you hear with me the most...... I can’t let the girl of my dreams get hurt.” He said while placing his forehead on yours.

“When I become a hero, I’d be taking on an oath to put others before my own. And that’s what I choose to do. I’m gonna get banged up from time to time and I understand you’re worried about me, but you have to trust me when I saw I’ll always come back to you. I love you Katsuki.” With that, Bakugou slowly moved in to give you another kiss. This time, you kissed him back, letting your hands travel to his soft, golden hair as he pressed you up against the door.

You heard him unlock your door during the kiss, and as he separated he spoke.

“Let me show you just how much I love you Y/N.” He pushed open the door and continued to make out with you. Kicking the door to close it, he pushed you up against the wall. There he picked you up, and groped your ass, earning a moan from you. With your mouth open, he slipped his tongue in, tasting all of you. He walked to your bedroom, kicking open the door this time, and shutting it the same way as before. He dropped you onto the bed as you both giggled in excitement. You noticed something though. He was still in hero gear.

“Shouldnt you be on patrol, Dynamight?” You asked as he came up to kiss your neck and you pulled him in closer.

“Dynamight has something better to do right now, Teddy Bear. And you know what?” He asked while putting his face right infront of yours.

“Tell me what, hero.”

“That’s the exact name I want you screaming.” He smirked. He tore off his top and mask before taking off your own. He then attacked your breast. He pulled off your bra before taking a second to admire your perfect curves. He squeezed a mound in one hand before taking in the other one with his mouth, biting at your nipple. Leaving hickies all over your chest, he was proud to see the purple marks that now adorn your upper body. He pulled down your pants and kissed your inner thighs. Right at the center was his treat. He pulled at your panties and stuffed them in his pocket.

“Hey!” You said after you noticed what he did.

“My little souvenir. Don’t worry about it princess, I’ll buy you more.” He kissed up on your legs and saw your arousal glistening. He licked his lips as his ruby eyes dialated. He was excited. He took an experimental lick as you moaned at the feeling and he savored the sweet taste. He could help himself, he dove right in for more. As his tongue lapped up against your clit, you moaned out in pleasure.

“Mm...yess Suki! Oh fuck right there..” you said as you pulled on his hair. He smacked your thigh, receiving a yelp from you.

“That’s not my name, princess~” he smirked against your pussy. He stuck his tongue in you and you cried out even more.

“F-Fuck! Dynamight, pleasee...more!” He squeezed your ass in approval as your legs began to shake. He knew what was coming and used his fingers to rub against your bud.

“Fuck..cum for me princess, cum in my mouth and let your hero taste you.” He said as your squirted in his face and Bakugou suck your clit, collecting all your sweet nectar.

“What a good girl,” he said as he came up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You ready for the main event?” He asked while giving you this cocky grin.

“Please..” you whined out.

“Please what, princess? You’re gonna need to be specific.” He knew what he was doing. He wanted you to beg. And you were going to do it.

“Mm..Please Dynamight! Please fuck me with your cock! Please fuck my pussy!” You begged. He smiled and smacked your ass.

“Good girl.” He said as he pulled down his hero slacks and stepped out of the material. Here he was, Pro-hero Dynamight and your now ex best friend completely stripped infront of you. His member hanging out with a hard erection and your eyes went wide at the length. He noticed this and tilted your chin up so your E/C diamonds could meet his eyes. “Don’t worry, it’ll fit,” he kindly said.

“Doubt it,” you sarcastically replied.

“Then we’ll make it fit, Princess.” You bit your lip in excitement. He pumped his cock a few times before placing the tip at your entrance. He rubbed his tip up and down you slit as he spoke.

“I’ve wanted this for so long princess, and now I’m finally gonna make you mine.” He said before he slammed in as you both cried out in ecstasy.

“Oh-oh my god..” you whimpered. He peppered your face in kisses to distract you from the pain. Once you adjusted to his size, you begged him to move.

“Please..more.”

With your permission, he began to thrust in and out of your heat, with hard, slow strokes. Both of you moaning as the sensation. The way he filled you up completely was euphoric. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, moaning into it as he picked up his pace a little more. You could hear his grunts and soft moans as he sped up, enjoying the way your pussy held him tight.

“Mm...Harder, Dynamight...F-Faster..please!” You whined. Katsuki listened, and he listened well. His strokes went deeper, his speed increased, and he fucked you harder than ever as he went up to your ear.

“Yeah...you want it harder?...deeper?....Mm fuck, faster princess? You like it rough? You like how Dynamight fucks your tight little cunt?” He asked while you cried out in pure pleasure.

“Y-yesss. Oh my god yes Dynamight. Fuck me just like this...ahhh!” Bakugou grabbed onto your ass with both his hands as he pummeled into you. You gripped his hair and he moaned at the feeling. He sucked on one of your tits as he looked at you. God, you were gorgeous. The blush that covered your face, you mouth hanging open with a slight smile as moans fall from it, and your eyes looking up like you’ve been fucked stupid.

“Oh..I’m gonna cum! Please, I’m gonna cum!” You moaned out.

“Not yet Teddy bear. Hold it,” he said as he gave your ass a hard smack and pulled out of you. You whined at the loss of his cock and looked at him with begging eyes.

“Turn around princess. I want you on all fours.” He simply said as he continued to pump his cock.” You moaned at the sight of it and smirked to yourself. He watched as you dragged your hand to your center and began playing with yourself.

“And if I don’t listen?” You smiled as you moaned at the way your fingers rubbed at your pussy. Bakugou grabbed your hand and got in your face before you could go any further.

“Then the brat who wants to cum so bad will cum for me 100 times over as her punishment.” He said as a threat but you only took it the best way possible.

“Sounds fun..Katsuki.” With that, he yanked your hand away from yourself and flipped you over before slamming back into you from behind and smacking your ass again and again.

“Ohh fuck...Ah...you think you’re funny, huh y-you brat? Let’s see how funny you are when I fuck you so dumb the only thing you’ll know is my name.” He said as he pounded into you. Your cried were muffled as you screamed into the mattress.

“Don’t do that, princess, I wanna hear your pretty cries,” he said as he yanked your hair, lifting your head up. He grabbed onto your neck and kissed you as you both loudly moaned into it. He squeezed your neck ever so lightly but tightly as he placed his forehead on yours to look down at where you both meet and become one. He sped up at the sight.

“I bet you love this. I bet you love having Dynamight’s cock deep inside you. Can you feel me? Huh? Feel me in your guts? Feel my big dick deep inside you?” He asked as he looked back at you.

“Y-Yesss! Oh f-fuck...ohhh so big!” Bakugou smiled at your comments and felt you squeeze around him.

“S-shit...you gonna cum? Gonna come on this big dick?” He asked as his hand traveled to you pussy, rubbing at your clit.

“Do it! Do it now, cum on my cock!” You squirted around his cock and Bakugou continued to fuck you through your orgasm and you cried out, and your upper body fell to the mattress. His hands grabbed at your waist as he pounded your pussy. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and bit his bottom lip as he threw his head back moaning out.

“Fuck! Ohh f-fuck, I’m gonna cum. You want my cum princess? Can I fill your pussy with my cum?” He asked while looking down at you. You had little tears poking at the ends of your eyes due to the mass amount of pleasure and Bakugou came at the sight. His thrust stopped as his hips met your ass in a final push, while his cum went deeper into your pussy, filling you to the brim. You both cried out as he finished and he kept himself in there for a little until you both caught your breath. He kissed up your spine to your cheek as he pulled out and layed down next to you.

As he pulled you closer to him he could hear your soft voice.

“A-amazing...Suki.” You said as you nuzzled into his neck. He only smiled as he realized you forgot.

“I hope so, cuz we’re not done teddy bear.” He said while smirking. Your eyes went wide as you looked at him in shock.

“Your punishment. Remember? I want you cumming on my cock a 100 times over. I don’t even want you to be able to walk for the next week.” He said while looking you right in his eyes. You took on his little challenge and straddled his waist before pumping his cock a few times and hovering over it. He watched the whole thing and licked his lips at you.

“Fine then Dynamight,” you said as his hands traveled to your hips. “Show me what you got,” you said as you slammed back down on him releasing cries from both you and him. This was gonna be a fun, long night.

—

After rounds 2, 3, 4, and 5, you both lie on your bed completely fucked out as you held onto each other. Bakugou was contempt as he held you under his chin and thought you were asleep. You were only resting your eyes with a soft smile on your face. Bakugou kissed the top of your head before softly speaking.

“I’m so sorry for everything I said teddy bear. You are the most amazing person in the world. I just don’t want you to be hurt. I wanna protect you for the rest of my life. I love you with my everything and I really want you to officially be mine. When you wake up, I’m gonna tell you all of this.” Bakugou sighed. Now it was your turn to speak.

“You don’t have to wait Suki,” you softly spoke as Bakugou looked down at you in shock. “I already heard it all, and I want to officially be yours too.” You said while looking right at him.

“Heh..I thought you passed out,” he teased.

“Well then I guess you’re not as good as you thought, Dynamight.” You teased back.

“You tryna say I didn’t fuck you good enough princess?! Cuz I still got enough for one more round that’ll be sure to shut your mouth real quick!” You only laughed at his little outburst.

“I’m good Suki. Trust me, you did more than enough.” You said.

“You’re damn right. And by the way you were screaming my name, I’m sure of it.” He proudly stated.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes and softly spoke. You both gently laughed at the teasing and embraced each other once more, but this time a little tighter.

After a few peaceful moments of silence, you heard him speak up.

“So..you’re being serious about really wanting to be mine..right?” Bakugou asked with worry laced in his voice.

“Of course I’m serious Suki. I don’t wanna be anybody else’s but yours.” You said in the cutest voice. Bakugou blushed at the confession.

“Ok then teddy bear. You’re mine now, and I’m never gonna let you go again.” He whispered. “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Suki.”

—

“WHERE WERE YOU?!?? A BANK WAS ROBBED, MULTIPLE PEOPLE WERE MUGGED, AND 2 VILLAIN BRAWLS BROKE OUT ON YOUR PATROL MAN!! ARE YOU GOOD?!?” Red riot screamed into the phone.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. I’m great actually, a lot of good stuff happened on my patrol.” Bakugou said as he drank from his glass of water.

“Dude. Seriously?” The red head said in disbelief. What could possibly make up for all the crimes committed on his best friend’s watch?!

“Seriously. Gotta go, talk to you later shitty hair.” Katsuki said as he hung up the phone. As he finished cooking, he brought two plates of food to the couch for Y/N and himself. He had to carry Y/N there.

“What was all that about?” Y/N asked as she took a sip from her cup and turning away from the trashy reality show you both were watching.

“Just another reason why you’d make a better hero than me, teddy bear.” You awed at the compliment and cuddled into him. If only you knew how serious he was being.

Kirishima would know. For he was the one running around like a mad man trying to stop all the crimes committed due to his best friend being absent thanks to his horny desires.

A/N: YAYYY MY FIRST REQUEST! I really enjoyed writing this one and I’m sorry if it wasn’t exactly what you were looking for. I’m hope you enjoyed it tho! Feel free to drop more request for me to do!💗🧸

P.S. New series coming on the way!

592 notes · View notes

sundaysundaes · 3 years

Text

Make a Wish

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff, Humor | NC-17 | College AU

Summary: It’s your birthday today and instead of giving you a box of gift, your boyfriend, Lee Donghyuck, decides to grant five of your wishes. You can’t help but feel a smirk creeping up your face. It’s time to get a little… creative.

This can be read as a stand alone but if you want to read it in order, you can start with Before Our Story Began and Jealousy.

You were having a dream. A really nice dream about your boyfriend, Lee Donghyuck, where for once in his twenty-years of living, he promised himself not to whine about anything ever again for the rest of his life. He was situated in difficult positions—got an F for the papers that he’d worked on for days, overcooked his eggs until they tasted like a pile of ashes in his mouth during breakfast, or lost a battle because Jaemin was too distracted with Jeno’s dick rubbing against his ass during the game. And even then, he did not form any complaint or whine with his head thrown back like how he usually would’ve done. It was a pleasant dream, seeing him all mature like that.

But then you woke up to the sound of that boyfriend of yours, screaming—literally screaming—directly to your ear, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY GIRL,” as if it wasn’t the middle of the night where he could wake up the whole dorm.

So now, you’re glowering at him with bleary eyes, wiping your drool away with the back of your hand. Haechan shows his phone screen, grinning when he sees you noticing with squinted eyes that it’s 00.00 am and the date written underneath it is your birthday.

“Thanks,” you flatly mutter, sinking your face back into the pillow and pulling the blanket over your head. “I’ll see you in the morning. Night, Haechannie.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” Your boyfriend is loud, too loud. You understand that Jaemin is having a sleepover at Jeno’s place so Haechan has the entire room for himself but that does not give him the right to scream right next to your ear like this. Especially when you’re this sleepy with nothing but exhaustion pumping through your veins.

“Noona~” He shakes you by the shoulder, peeling the blanket off your body and succeeding, even when you’ve tried your best to keep it tangled around you. “Come on, it’s your birthday. We have to celebrate!”

“We’ll celebrate when the sun is out. Like normal people.”

“No way, come on! You can sleep some other time!”

“You can be annoying some other time.”

He huffs loudly, puffing out his cheeks. “If you don’t get up, I’ll do things to you.”

You sigh. You know what kind of things he’s referring to and as much as you love it, you’re really drained from the part-time job you did earlier today. It’s true that you haven’t had sex with him for more than a week or so and you kind of miss doing those sort of things with him but you’re just so tired that you ended up crashing face-first on his bed earlier this evening the second you arrived in his room. You hadn’t even kissed him properly yet.

“Okay, fine.” You sit up on his bed with your shirt—or rather, his shirt—all wrinkled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “What do you want us to do? If it’s sex, you have to wait because I’m dead tired right now.”

“I wanted to give you your present, actually.” But the way he juts out his bottom lip seems like sex was exactly what he had in mind.

“Okay, so where is it?” You ask, considering you don’t really see him carrying a box of gift with a red bow wrapped around it.

“Well, it’s kinda predictable for me to be giving you like an actual present, so I thought hey, maybe I can grant you a wish. Any kind of wish,” he emphasizes, raising that eyebrow of his in the way he knows you like it. “If you know what I mean.”

You ignore him completely, though the sight of his sexy smirk still leaves you unfocused for a good few seconds. “Only one? On my birthday? Do you even want to do this or are you just making an excuse for not buying me a present?”

“Yah!” He scrunches his nose, playfully jabbing a finger to your stomach. “I don’t see you granting me any wishes on my birthday!”

“You wanted to come inside me and I allowed you to do just that. Twice. Stop being so ungrateful.”

That wipes the playful angry look off his face almost instantly. “You’re right, fine,” he concedes, looking at you with a disinterested look in his eyes. “How many wishes do you want then?”

“I don’t know, like, fifty?”

“The hell? Do I look like Santa to you?”

“If you keep eating those samgyeopsal past midnight, your belly will.”

“Stop body-shaming me, you little—“ He suddenly leaps over, attacking you with tickles to the sides of your stomach until you fall back to the bed with his bare chest hovering over your body. You retaliate by moving your legs around, trying to kick him away but failing every time. You can barely hold back your laughter. He only stops when your face grows scarlet and your chest heaving up and down, slightly out of breath. “I’ll give you three wishes,” he offers, a bit breathless as well. “Only because you look so irresistible right now with those lips of yours.”

“Make it ten, then.” You play with his necklace, twisting it around your finger. Your other hand draws a line on his golden skin, starting from the column of his neck down to his chest. “And I’ll be even more irresistible.”

“Hmm, tempting.” His lips slowly breaking into a sultry smile. “But no. I’ll give you three and that’s final.”

“If you give me five,” you say, hooking a finger around his silver necklace this time so you can bring his face down to yours and whisper in his ear, “I’ll let you cum in my mouth later today.”

His entire face beams up almost like a kid on his first school trip. “You get yourself a deal, sister!”

You smile, caressing his cheek softly with your fingers. His gaze softens, leaning against your touch like how a kitten would. “Well then, here’s my first wish,” you speak softly as if you’re telling a secret. Your lips are just a few inches away from his, and he licks his lower lip in anticipation. “No doing sexual activities whatsoever with me on my birthday.”

That sensual, excited look he has on his face earlier? Gone, being immediately replaced by sheer horror. “What?!” He shrieks when his realization sinks in. “BUT YOU SAID YOU’D LET ME CUM IN YOUR MOUTH LATER TODAY!”

You grin at him, almost cackling out loud. “It’s not fun being on the other side of a prank, is it now, Haechannie?”

“You’re so—” But even the infamous Lee Haechan can be at loss for words. “Not even a kiss?”

“Not even a hug,” you clarify, pushing his body away with both hands so he ends up sitting on his heels, only in his boxer. “I’ll allow you to hold my hands but that’s it.”

“But why?” The way he whines the word ‘why’, loud and long, is just so him. “Hugging is like a totally normal thing to do! People hug all the time! Even kids do! It doesn’t have to be sexual.”

“It becomes sexual when you keep popping out a boner during one.”

“Screw you.”

“Not today, Haechannie. Not today.”

***

Haechan, no matter how bratty he can act from time-to-time, does keep his promise intact. He hasn’t touched you for like eight hours by now, even when you were taking a shower inside his room and ‘accidentally’ leaving the bathroom door open. You heard him groan, “Seriously? You’re doing this to me now? You’re torturing me, Nooonaaaaa~” once during your shower, but he didn’t act on his desire. You’re actually quite surprised. You know just how much this is driving him crazy.

“Let’s get some breakfast,” you say, already looking all dolled up in the red dress he once bought for you. You know how much he likes it, know how much his eyes ogle your body from top-to-toe, staring at the way the fabric hugs your body perfectly, emphasizing your every curve.

He glares at you menacingly. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what?” You play dumb, though you're sure your grin betrays you. “Come on, I’m starving. I’ll let you hold my hand as we walk, just make sure don't get a hard-on in the meantime.”

“Have I told you I hate you today?”

“And I love you too, Haechannie.”

The cafe near the dormitory you usually visit to get your daily intake of calories is closed for the day. “Why are they closed?” You ask, adjoining your eyebrows together in confusion.

“Maybe the old man has diarrhea or something.” He shrugs, hands buried deep inside the pocket of his black ripped jeans. The way they tightly hug his legs, combined with those holes, is becoming very distracting for you. “I sure as hell, hope so.”

“Will you let it go already? It was an honest mistake.”

“How on earth is putting wasabi in my cream soup an honest mistake? He totally did that on purpose!”

“Yeah, well, knowing how you just straight-up told him he looked like a walrus, I’m not even surprised he spiked your soup.”

“Now that’s an honest mistake, in which I tried to be honest but came out as a mistake.”

“You didn’t have to tell him he looked like a walrus, though.”

“But he did!” He groaned, stomping his feet on the ground. “He totally did! Look me in the eyes and tell me he didn’t look like a walrus, come on, I dare you.”

You roll your eyes. He’s always one for the dramatic. “Should we go somewhere else? How hungry are you right now?”

“For your love?” He smirked, sending you a flirty wink. “Starving.”

You make an exaggerated gesture of you vomiting your insides. “If you’re not that hungry, wanna just go grab some crepes and take a walk in the park?”

“Sure, why not.” His shoulders are relaxed as he yawns unattractively, though it still counts as adorable in your book. “Let’s drop by to that bakery you told me before on the way home. I’m gonna buy you a birthday cake.”

That earns a surprised smile from you. “I didn’t think you’d be this thoughtful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m always thoughtful.”

“Is calling a middle-aged man a walrus a form of your thoughtfulness?”

He snorts, tilting his head to the side with his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Since when did you get this sassy?” You’re about to put another retort when he suddenly kisses your cheek.

“Hey!” You abruptly step away from him, palming the side of your face. “What did I tell you about my wish again?”

He grins, eyes turning into a cute pair of crescents. “Honest mistake, babe.”

And you poke him in the abs until he drops to his knees, whining, “Whyyyyyyyy?” into the air.

There’s this park near your campus that has nice scenery—unexpectedly picturesque, even—with a huge fountain in the center of it. The green leaves of the camphor trees sway from the morning breeze, intoxicating you with a scent similar to how the pine trees smell after the rain. Children are running around, playing tags, with their parents sitting next to the fountain, busying themselves with their phones while occasionally mutters, “Be careful, don’t run too much!” from time-to-time because apparently, that’s what parents do these days.

Haechan exhales loudly as he takes a seat on the nearest bench, straightening his legs and patting a spot beside him. “Come here. I want to cuddle.”

“There are people around.”

“Since when cuddling becomes a crime?”

“It makes people uncomfortable.”

“You saying no makes me uncomfortable.”

You sigh. There’s no way of winning an argument with him. “Fine, but I’m not sitting on your lap,” you say, ignoring his pout as you take a seat next to him and hand him his chocolate-banana crepes. “Careful, you’re wearing a white shirt,” you warn, offering him his spoon. “It’ll be hard to take the stain off if—”

“I’m not a child,” he grumbles, taking the food roughly off your hand and grimacing when the chocolate syrup drips down to his shirt, staining the fabric. He blinks in surprise with his mouth wide open, before he looks back at you, only to receive a flat stare in return.

“I literally just told you that a second ago.”

Haechan shrugs. “It’s Jaemin’s shirt anyway, so I don’t care.”

With that, you bring your focus back to the food in your hand—a strawberry crepes with a scoop of vanilla ice cream—and takes a bite, almost moaning in delight when the sugary taste hits your tongue. “Man, why did I ever decide to go on a diet? This tastes so gooooood~”

Your smile and small giggle seem to be contagious because Haechan mirrors you almost in the same way though it has nothing to do with the dessert he’s holding. He observes, silently taking notes of the joyful expressions you display on your face while muttering, “How cute,” under his breath. Both of you take a moment to enjoy your so-called breakfast, sometimes taking a sip of your hot coffee to balance the sweet.

“You know,” Haechan says as he gnaws at his dessert again. “This isn’t really how I expected to go when I said I’d grant your wishes.”

“Yeah?” You decide to humor him, though you already know what he’s thinking. “Did you expect me to wish for something else?”

He nods, licking chocolate syrup off his spoon. “Something about you sitting on my face.”

You choke on a piece of strawberry you just plopped into your mouth, and you can feel it blocking your airways. “What are you—” Tears begin to form in the corner of your eyes, as you begin to cough fervently.

“What are you, a kid?” Haechan pulls your hair away from your face, patting your back. “There, there.”

“Why on earth would I ask about that?!” You shout when you can properly breathe again.

“I don’t know, I just thought that maybe you wanted me to eat you out.” The way he shrugs so nonchalantly as if he’s simply talking about finding a typo in the papers he just submitted leaves you dumbfounded. “I mean, I kept teasing you about it during sex but never really did it since you were always too stubborn to beg.”

“And do you realize now how annoying you are in bed?”

“That’s not my intention, though!” He genuinely seems a bit guilty. “You just look so cute trying to hold back when it’s obvious you want my tongue inside you—”

“We’re in public, Jesus Christ—”

“It’s your pride that we have a problem with. Why can’t you just for once say, with teary eyes, ‘Haechannie, please, fuck me with your tongue’—”

“People can hear—stop it!” You try to clamp your palm around his mouth, but he dodges it perfectly and places a playful kiss on the back of your hand instead. “And are you seriously begging me to beg you for it? I don’t think that’s how it works, Hyuck.”

“It’s because I actually really want to eat you out,” he groans, sighing into the air, “But I also want to see that cute embarrassed look on your face—do you see how big of a problem this is for me?” His whine falls short when he notices the look on your face. “Wait, are you blushing?”

“I’m not!” But you know you are, you’ve never been so ashamed before. How can you not? Your boyfriend is now a) talking about eating you out, loudly, in public, b) there’s this one passerby, a middle-aged woman who dresses in way too many layers for a day as hot as this, looking at you with the most disgusted look you’ve ever seen displayed on a person’s face, and c) Haechan is still talking about it. “Shut up and just get away from me!”

“Noona, your face is so red!” He’s giggling to himself now, his crepes dribbling more chocolate syrup onto his shirt from how much he’s moving. “Did I get you excited? Does this mean you’re gonna—”

“Next wish! I’ve already thought about my next wish!” You quickly avert his attention, desperately pushing his face with one hand so he’ll stop making kissy faces at you. “I want you to perform a song.”

“What, here?”

“Yeah, you don’t have a problem singing in front of people, right?”

“Of course not,” he snorts loudly. “I have an amazing voice. You know, people should really be paying me to hear me sing, actually.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, though deep down in your heart, you kind of admit that he really does have an amazing voice. His vocal is unique and distinct, easily noticeable even if there are a hundred vocalists in the room. And the way he does his adlibs whenever he sings his favorite tunes actually makes the song sounds a thousand times better. There’s no way you’re going to tell that to his face, though. His ego is already big enough without you feeding him compliments.

“Well then, you’re in luck.” You grin mischievously, nodding your head toward a band that’s been playing acoustic songs near the fountain for quite some time. There are three people playing instruments, with one of them being the vocalist and you comment inwardly in your head that Haechan sounds so much better than him—but maybe you’re just biased. The band is promoting their demo album, trying to get people’s attention to recognize their self-composed songs and buy their album if they fit their taste. No crowds are gathering in front of them, and you feel kind of sorry because they actually sound pretty good. “If you follow my wish and do it right, you could probably get some tips along the way.”

“You want me to sing with the band? I don’t think they’ll allow me though.”

“They will. I’ll buy their album in exchange.”

Haechan doesn’t seem eager at the slightest. “Must we waste our money away?”

“What, are you scared?” You taunt, raising one of your eyebrows challengingly because you know how much he hates to lose. And it works as expected, because Haechan is now standing up, throwing the rest of his crepes away to the nearest trash bin, and cracks his knuckles.

“Lee Haechan never runs away from a challenge.” He has this annoying cocky grin displayed on his face. “Tell me what song you want me to sing.”

“Your favorite. Man in The Mirror.”

“Dude, I nailed that song. Is this even a challenge?” He clicks his tongue, cocking his head. “So easy.”

He already has taken a few steps away, heading toward the band, when you stop him dead on his tracks by saying, “I know you nailed it. That’s why we have to keep it interesting so here’s my wish: I want you to sing out of tune.”

Even if you said that he was turning on his heels at the speed of light, it wouldn’t be too much of an exaggeration. “NO FUCKING WAY.”

“Ah, but sadly,” you fake a pout, mocking him, “You promised you’d grant my wish.”

“But that’s just stupid! Why would I do something like that? Why would anyone do something like that?” He shakes his head furiously. “And doing this to my favorite singer?! Hell no!”

“Haechannie.”

“No.”

“Haechannie.”

“NO.”

You sigh, walking closer to him and pull him down by the hand to close the gap between your heights and murmur in his ear. “If you do that,” you breathe out, trying your best to sound as sexy as you can, “I might consider buying that customized dildo you want this weekend.”

Haechan has his jaw hanging low on his face, looking at you with his wide eyes shaking in disbelief. “Oh my God,” he whines, placing both hands on your shoulders before rocking you back and forth. “Noonaaaaa~ This is soooo not fair. You can’t do this to me!”

You chuckle at how childish he is. “So, how is it going to be, Lee Donghyuck-sshi?”

He contemplates hard about it—really hard, probably the hardest thinking he ever did in his entire life—nibbling on his lower lip as he does it. After a moment has passed, he finally ends it with his signature pout. “But you promise, right? No pranking me this time?”

“I promise,” you say with a firm nod but you have your fingers crossed behind your back.

“Fine,” he says as if it was the heaviest decision he has ever made. “Then, I’ll sing… off-key—eww!” He sticks out his tongue, clutching his arms around his stomach. “I’m about to throw up my crepes just by thinking about it.”

“Good luck.” You pat his shoulder. “Oh, and make sure you sing the first part like you always do, so people will notice and start listening to how amazing your voice is. And when they’re so into it, as you get to the second chorus, that’s when you start singing off-key.”

Haechan’s eyes are lifeless when they bore into you. “Isn’t it time for you to go back to hell, Satan?”

“Remember, Haechannie,” you press a finger to your lips, winking at him. “Customized. Dildo.”

“I hate you.”

“And I love you too.”

So both of you get into the business. After the band performed an acoustic version of their titled song, you approach them with a smile, offering your hand to the vocalist. You tell them how talented they are, making sure to bedazzle them with compliments and your charming attitudes so things can go as planned. It’s actually not that hard trying to convince them to accompany your boyfriend sing, especially when you say you’re going to buy two of their demo albums.

“What song do you want to sing, dude?” The vocalist, a friendly man most likely in his twenties with a goatee on his face, asks Haechan while offering a fist bump. Your boyfriend grimaces, bumping his fist against him like it’s the most disgusting thing he’s ever done.

“Something wrong?” The man asks. “You look kinda pale, man.”

“He just ate something bad during breakfast earlier,” you come to answer him instead, rubbing Haechan’s back soothingly. “But he’s fine now. Can you guys play Man in The Mirror?”

“Michael Jackson, right? Sure thing.”

You elbow your boyfriend playfully on the side of his stomach. “Sure thing, he said.”

“I want to die.”

“Aaw, poor baby,” you pucker your lips, having the best time of your life making fun of him. “Now off you go, I’ll be right here.” And you bring your iPhone in the air, camera-ready with a tap of your thumb. Haechan has his eyes on the standing microphone, looking at it like it’s the most horrifying thing he’s ever witnessed in his life.

Haechan just barely takes a step forward before he runs back to your spot again, all jumpy and twitchy. “I can’t—I can’t do this—this is so embarrassing—”

“On three, okay, man?” The vocalist takes a seat on one of the little stools they have placed next to the amplifiers with his Fender guitar placed firmly on his lap. And before Haechan can give him a nod or any sign in return, he begins counting and the entire band plays the song. There’s no way out of this now.

Haechan finally walks toward the mic with his soul most likely leaving his body with every step he takes.

You give him a cheer as loud as you can—not to support him, but so you can gather people’s attention. Haechan shushes you down in panic before he finally takes the mic, constantly throwing ice daggers at you with his eyes. You begin to chant his name—“Lee Donghyuck! Lee Donghyuck!”—and with every shout of it, Haechan dies a little bit more.

Haechan falls two beats behind before he finally sings into the microphone, his voice resonating through the air. He does sound amazing, albeit a little nervous and that’s probably just because he’s doing the dare. He usually sounds confident, his voice sounding strong and clear not caring if the room is empty or filled with people so this anxious version of him really makes you think that maybe you’ve forced him a little bit too far.

He completes the first part of the song rather easily and the entire band behind him nod their heads along to the music, amazement sparkling in their eyes. You can see the vocalist quietly mouths, “Damn, he’s good,” to the member sitting beside him who shortly agrees wholeheartedly. You can’t help but smile at that, looking like a proud mom.

People, one-by-one, begin to gather around you, whispering to one another, asking, “Who is he? What band is this?” or simply praising his vocal and your smile grows wider. It vanishes almost instantly, though, the second you hear some girls chattering behind your back, talking about how attractive Haechan looks—especially in that leather jacket and those dark combat boots he’s wearing. You never pegged yourself to be a jealous, overprotective girlfriend before but with Haechan, perhaps you’re beginning to turn exactly into that.

Haechan, who seems pretty pleased with how he sang the first part, suddenly begins to fidget on his feet. The more he gets closer to the second chorus, the paler he becomes and he has his eyes tightly shut when he’s finally there, singing the first two lines in the right way before forcing himself to sing off-key.

You blurt out laughing but immediately clasp a hand over your mouth. Haechan looks like he’s in pain, and the rest of the band has their eyebrows furrowed in question, looking back and forth at each other, probably asking, what the hell is wrong with this dude, he was doing so good before. The audience begins to look at one another, eyebrows knitting in concern. New visitors stop in their tracks, looking at your boyfriend with judging looks on their faces. Even the parents that were so busy with their phones before begin to lift their heads from the screen, trying to know who is this terrible singer and why is he wailing like this.

Haechan sounds so awful and you can only imagine how much this is killing him from the inside. He barely gets to the end of the second chorus before he turns to face the band, bowing his head and shouting, “I’m so sorry!” before he scrambles on his feet, running toward you.

“Wait, Hyuck, you haven’t finished—” Your protest ends in laughter when Haechan rashly hooks an arm around your shoulder, breaking through the crowd and forcing you to match his steps so you can leave the park for good.

He’s never stepping into this place ever again, you’re sure of it.

***

On the way back to the dorm, you stop by the bakery you’ve been wanting to visit and Haechan buys you a birthday cake as promised but with a permanent pout displayed on his place.

“A cake for your girlfriend?” The cashier lady asks with a friendly smile.

Haechan simply pouts harder, muttering, “Yes, my super annoying girlfriend.” And you pop out from behind his back, raising a hand in the air as you beam at her with a cheeky grin, “Yep, that’s me!”

Haechan walks next to you on the sidewalk as if he just did the longest marathon he ever did in his life—all drained out and slow on his steps. His shoulders are hunched forward, his eyes droopy and every time you take a peek and share a glance at him, he’ll start fuming again—like an angry child, upset for being left alone in his grandma’s house while the whole family went on a trip.

“Okay, knowing how fast you’re walking right now,” you mutter sarcastically, looking at the nonexistent watch you wear around your wrist for dramatic effects, “We’ll be back in our dorm at approximately eighty-four years from now.”

“Whatever. I’m still angry at you.”

“But we just started! I thought you wanted to make me happy.” You try to look as sad as possible, batting your eyelashes at him. “It’s my birthday, you know.”

“I wasn’t aware that making you happy equals giving me emotional distress.” After two seconds passed by in silence, he adds, “And physical pain.”

You smile at the attitude he’s giving, wondering just how cute can this man be by the end of the day. Maybe you should keep torturing him a little.

Just a little bit more.

“Haechannie,” you roll his name off your tongue in a playful manner, wrapping both arms around his right one. “I’m ready for my next wish.”

“Didn’t you listen to any word I just said?”

“See that old lady over there?”

“Yeah, you clearly didn’t.” Haechan follows your gaze with a heavy sigh, not quite pleased with how easily you ignore his complaints, and he sees a grey-haired woman, old enough to be his grandmother, sitting alone on a bench with a book on her hands and her glasses hanging dangerously low on the bridge of her nose. Her cane lays still on her side, and by the look of it, she appears to be waiting for someone.

“Oh come on, leave her alone,” Haechan says, already looking sorry for her even when you haven’t said anything yet. “She’s so old and she looks so frail. I am not going to do your stupid dare at the cost of her life.”

You roll your eyes.“Relax, I won’t ask something that stupid.”

“Oh, because your first wish was just so brilliant, I suppose?”

“I’m serious, I’m not that mean.” Not to her, at least. “I just want you to sit next to her on the bench and act like it’s the worst day of your life.”

“I won’t be calling that acting,” he grumbles. “I am having the worst day of my life.”

“What? I thought we’re having fun!” You try so hard to look sympathetic enough for him but it’s almost an impossible deed to do when you’re seconds away from laughing.

“You’re having fun.” He squints his eyes menacingly. “I’m having a fucking seizure.”

“You’re fine, don’t be too dramatic.” You card your fingers through his hair, pushing back the bangs from his eyes to showcase his temple exactly the way you like it. “Well, I want you to act sad—like, really sad, bawling your eyes out and everything—and when she asks you why, explain that you just found out you’re adopted.” You press something against his palm. “Here.”

Haechan has his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he takes a look at it. “What’s this?”

“A postcard with a picture of your parents. I just bought it at the minimart before when you were in the bakery.”

“But…” He stares in horror. “They’re Americans.”

“Exactly.” You know there’s a shit-eating grin blooming on your face but you cannot wipe it off. “You can walk away after she tries to comfort you or give you some advice or something.”

Haechan keeps scowling at you as if he wanted to eat you alive, but you charm him with your brightest smile until he sighs and tucks the postcard in the back pocket of his jeans. “You know I’ll pay you back for this later, right?”

“Wha—I thought you said you’ll grant me any wishes for free!”

“MAN, IF I COULD JUST TURN BACK TIME—“ He yanks out his hair, making you a bit worried because you love his soft, adorable brown locks and he’s been tugging at them for quite some time today. “Okay, fine, I’ll do it. I no longer have any shame left in my body anyway. Or soul, for that matter.” He turns on his heels, straightening his jacket as if that could give him more courage. “You better not blink your eyes.”

“It’s okay even if I do.” You bring out your phone, waving it in the air. “’Cause I’m recording it. This will go viral on Youtube.”

“I hate you.”

“And I love you too, Haechannie.”

It takes a good ten minutes for Haechan to prepare himself for the stupid dare he’s about to do, even though he previously claimed he had no shame whatsoever. He paces back-and-forth at the sidewalk, stomping his feet once or twice restlessly, and mutters quietly to himself, “Man up. Man up, you idiot. It’s just a stupid dare.” You desperately want to have a miniature size of this Haechan and keeps him inside your pocket so you can watch him being nervously cute all day long with his cheeks puffed in anger.

“Okay, I’m going.” And he finally steps forward, braver this time, and sits down on the other end of the bench, twiddling his fingers in anxiety. You bite your lip to contain your laughter and press record.

Almost fifteen seconds have passed by and there’s no reaction, not even a glance, coming from the old lady. You can see Haechan nibbling persistently on his lip, his feet tapping worriedly on the ground before he finally lets out the loudest, heaviest sigh in the history of mankind. It’s so loud that it makes the old lady jumps on her seat, her hands going to her chest, her book left abandoned on her lap. Haechan also looks surprised knowing that she’s surprised and everything just looks so hilarious that your camera begins to shake from how hard you try not to laugh.

“I-is there something wrong, my dear?” The old lady asks, shifting her body a little on her seat so she can face him properly.

Haechan takes a deep breath and begins his act by burying his face in his hands, faking a sob. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I just—” He sniffles loudly, trying to make it obvious to her that he’s in agony. “It’s the worst day of my life.”

And it’s cheesy, how he acts, but she seems to buy it—or maybe she’s just too kind. “May I ask what happened? I’m not sure I can help but…” She lands her shaky hand on his back, caressing him soothingly. “It’s always better to pour your feelings out instead of bottling them inside.”

She sounds so genuinely compassionate, unlike the maniacal laughter that currently tumbles down your lips.

Haechan lifts his head, turning towards her. His eyes begin to droop, making him look like a kicked puppy. “I just found out…” He sniffs for dramatic effects. “That… That I’m adopted!” And he loudly whimpers into his hands again.

The old lady gasps, covering her parted lips with her thin fingers. “Oh my… Did your parents tell you that?”

“No, it’s even worse. I found out on my own when they were talking in their room.” Haechan rummages his back pocket, handing her the postcard. “Here, look. It’s a picture of my parents.”

The lady takes the postcard with a pair of heartbroken eyes but they soon begin to change when she notices that the two people in the picture are straight-up Americans, while Haechan, needless to say at this point, looks like the most common—though far more handsome—Korean boy you can encounter on daily basis.

“I know,” Haechan says, wiping a nonexistent tear out of his eyes and fakes another sob. “Surprising, isn’t it? I mean, we look so much alike, there’s no way I would’ve guessed I was adopted if I didn’t hear them talking about it behind my back.”

The old lady is still pretty much dumbstruck with how bizarrely stupid everything is, but she’s too kind to call him out on it. She hands the postcard back to him, looking much less sorry this time, and takes a moment of silence. Haechan cries against his palms again, and you wonder if he’s only faking it or being real about it this time because the entire situation is just painfully awkward.

“You see, my dear,” she begins, voice gentle and reassuring but the sincerity isn’t really the same as before. “Sometimes it really can feel like the world is ending, and I know that this must be hard for you,” she stops to knit her eyebrows, “no matter how obvious this should’ve appeared to you. But maybe it’s not about having a picture-perfect family, but about finding beautiful moments.”

“You’re right,” Haechan hurriedly agrees, his eyes twinkling in delight knowing that this excruciating dare is about to end. “I’m happy with them being my family, even if they’re not, you know, really my parents.”

She smiles but it kind of looks like a grimace, and she says her next words with a gentle pat on his back. “But shouldn’t you have noticed about it sooner, though, dear? You look nothing like them.”

And Haechan winces, not sure how to react. “I could be, uhh…” He licks his lips nervously. “Quite dumb, sometimes.”

“Yes,” she nods, still patting his back. “You certainly can.”

A tall man, at least ten years older than Haechan, approaches their spot with a paper bag in his arms. “Mom, are you ready to—” he stops to take a look at your boyfriend, trying to understand the situation of why is his mother sitting way too close to a guy dressed flirtatiously in a leather jacket and boots with her hand caressing his back. “What are you guys doing?”

“Oh, it’s okay. I’m adopted,” Haechan says, handing him the same stupid picture. “She’s just consoling me about it.”

He takes a look and sends him his biggest judging look. “Dude, what are you, stupid?”

***

Haechan is still fuming all the way back to his dorm and no matter how much you apologize about it, he still doesn’t want to talk to you. He throws himself on his bed with his shoes still on the second he enters his room. You’re still smiling quietly to yourself, can barely handle all the cuteness he’s emitting.

“Haechannie,” you gently call, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Are you still upset?”

No answer.

“Look, I said, I’m sorry. Talk to me, please?”

Haechan has his face pressed flat against his comforter and you secretly wonder whether he can even breathe in that position. A few seconds passed by in silence before Haechan finally mumbles, “Did it make you happy?”

“What, you doing my stupid dares?” You can already feel another laughter bubbling up your throat but you have to contain it. You can’t hurt him more than this. “Yes and I know I’ve been mean to you and I’m sorry for that, but you were so cute.” You run a hand along his spine before you carefully caress his hair as a mother would do to a child. “Please don’t be mad.”

He eventually sits up, crossing his legs on the bed, sniffling a little bit while still avoiding eye contact. “Well, I guess, as long as you’re happy.”

“Are you crying?”

“No,” he states, practically puffing out his cheeks by now. “I’m just so embarrassed with all of this. Why are you being so mean to me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, come here.” You motion him to come closer, and you know it’s breaking the rules of your first wish but you don’t care. This giant teddy bear desperately needs a hug.

Haechan immediately sighs when you stand with your knees pressed on the bed, wrapping both arms around his head. He sinks his face to the crook of your neck, lowly murmuring, “I hate you,” with his breath fanning your skin.

“You’ve been saying that a lot.”

“Yeah, because you’re mean.”

“But I love you even more today,” you softly reply, pulling away a little so you can trace your fingers along the smoothness of his cheek. “You’re so adorable, Hyuck, do you know that?”

“Is singing out of tune and harassing old lady your kink or something?”

“That’s not it.” You pinch the bridge of his nose, making him yelp a little. “It’s just the way you forced yourself to do these things—these things you hate the most—for me and asking me whether they made me happy or not, while still being all grumpy about it. You’re just so cute and I love you for that.”

The sun is setting outside his window, illuminating his face with such a warm, beautiful glow that somehow makes him appear a bit more melancholic and angelic at the same time. He finally drags his eyes back on yours, with his bottom lip still jutting out slightly. He says the next four words so quietly under his breath that you can barely hear them. “What?”

“I said, I love you too,” he repeats in a rush, before he sinks his face in the slope of your neck again, whining all the way. “Don’t make me say it like this, it’s weird.”

And you notice that this is actually the first time he truly confesses his love for you. He’s joked about it a lot, toying with your feelings at least ten times within a day, casually throwing the word love as if it meant nothing more than mere decoration for his flirtatious lines. But now that he’s saying it in all the seriousness he can muster, he can barely look you in the eyes, can barely say it without whispering, and it’s cute how the usually confident Lee Haechan, crumbles into nothing but a shy little boy facing his feelings for the first time.

“Ah seriously,” he murmurs against your hair. “What are you doing to me? I’m not usually like this.”

You can’t help but tease him. “Yes, you’re usually more satanic.”

“Yah—”

And you stop him with a soft kiss to his lips. You can feel him taking a sharp breath, his arms stiffening as they circle your waist. You’re about to kiss him again when you feel him tensing against your body. Noticing how he looks a bit baffled, you carefully tug yourself away. “What is it?”

“I thought you said we couldn’t kiss today,” he tells in such a small voice.

“I said no sexual activities,” you retort with a sly smirk, making a poor excuse because you really miss kissing him. “This isn’t sexual,” you say, pressing your lips against his again but stop before he can return it. “This is romantic.”

He’s so distracted with your lips that he can barely take his eyes off them even when he talks. “You’re teasing me again, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” You can’t help but grin but it does not stay long when Haechan suddenly hooks his arm around your hip and pulls you closer until you’re forced to climb into his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist for balance.

“Haechan—” Your protest is swallowed by his kiss, his lips chasing after yours almost frantically. You can tell how much he misses you from the way his lips move against yours, or from the way he moans softly at the back of his throat as he settles his hand on the side of your face. His other hand holds you tighter by the waist, his fingers fisting the fabric of your dress. He angles your head to the side, kissing you with parted lips and swiping his tongue along your lower one so you’ll gain him entrance.

“Noona,” he whispers between quick breaths, sounding almost needy. “Noona, I need—”

“Okay, stop.” You place your arms on his shoulders, expanding the space between you. You can’t believe you almost got carried away. “Now this is getting sexual. Let’s head over to my next wish.”

“Wait—but I’m—” He stares at you bewilderedly, not believing the fact that you just casually drag your body away from his lap, smoothen down your hair as if nothing just happened. “Are you serious? You’re playing with me again? When I’m like this?”

“Sorry.” You peck him on the cheek, hiding your grin. “So, for my next wish—”

“Yah! Listen to what I’m saying—”

“I want you to—”

“Noonaaaaaaaa~”

“—sing me a lullaby.” His whining stops abruptly at your words and you quickly explain further before he does it again, “I’m sleepy so I’m gonna take a nap. Your job is to sing me a lullaby until I fall asleep. Easy, right?”

“You really just do whatever you want, don’t you?”

“Only for today. You, on the other hand, do that every day.”

“Fair enough. Do I get to choose the song?”

“Sure.” Knocking your high heels off your feet, you lie down on his bed with a thump, contentedly basking in his scent because his pillows, the duvet underneath you, the soft sheet below your fingertips—everything smells pleasantly like him. Haechan takes off his shoes and his leather jacket—which almost earns a loud protest from you because he looks so good with that jacket on—throwing them somewhere near the bed without care and he lies down by your side, facing you.

You turn your body to face him as well. “Hey, handsome.” You smile sheepishly at him.

He seems a bit caught off guard by it, but smiles back. “Hi.”

“Can we cuddle?”

He laughs softly at that. “Come here.” He gathers your entire figure easily in his arms and you sink your nose to his chest, humming in pleasure. “Stop being so cute, you’re torturing me.” You only giggle in response.

Haechan begins to sing, slowly at first as if he suddenly feels pressured with the way the room is so deep in silence, leaving no excuse for him to make in case he fails. You notice that, so you sneak both of your arms around his waist, snuggling even closer. “Don’t be nervous, it’s only me.”

“I’m not. Why would I be?” He masks his slightly shaky voice with a chuckle. “It’s just that your hair keeps getting into my mouth whenever I try to sing.”

“Of course.” And you keep your lips tightly shut, giving him the time he needs.

Haechan takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Had a perfect picture in my head, with you in the most beautiful dress,” he sings, beautiful notes flowing down from his lips, making you feel like everything around you becomes a blur and there’s only him with his velvety voice and his soft, warm breathing. “I look happy as ever, how did I let you go again.”

He gains confidence with more seconds passing by and you can feel his arms growing slack around your waist, no longer as tense. “Now I'm standing alone in the rain, like the kinda movie that we used to hate. Wish I could take back the time, but I know this time it's real.”

You’re not sure whether it’s because of the lyrics or the way he sings, but as beautiful as his honeyed voice sounds, you can’t help but feel a tinge of sadness growing inside you. It’s as if he’s not singing the song, he’s living through it. And you wonder maybe he’s had his heart broken by someone before—or maybe he’s just so good at putting emotions to his song, you’re still not sure yet.

“Hate that I'm singing this song. Hate that I have to be strong.” Haechan absentmindedly runs his fingers up and down your spine, before he tangles them around the strands of your hair, gently stroking them. “Hate that you're gone. I hate all my flaws. Hate that you love someone else. Hate everything. Just hate everything right now.”

It’s so genuine and soft the way he serenades you, baring his soul and you’re not even looking at his eyes as he sings it. By the end of it, you can’t help but ask him a question. “Will you be singing that song if you ever break up with me?”

He curls up closer, burying the tip of his nose in your hair. “No,” he says but continues before your disappointment can sink in, “If we ever break up, I won’t be doing anything besides getting you back. I don’t like to lose, you know how I am. And I definitely don’t want to lose something—or rather, someone—this important to me.”

“Stop flirting with me,” you chime in, pulling away a little so you can take a look at his face. “You already have me wrapped around your fingers.”

But Haechan doesn’t smile or act cocky about it. He just takes his time analyzing your face, taking in your features as he trails his fingers down from your hair, to your cheek, and finally stopping at the curve of your lips. “I was so worried before though when you met your ex behind my back. It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just…” He loses his words when you begin to kiss his fingertips, his eyes becoming unfocused. “I don’t know, I just got anxious about it. I’ve never had someone like you before so…”

It really just sinks in that he wasn’t merely angry because you were seeing your ex-boyfriend again, he was just afraid. He was terrified of losing you but didn’t know how to react properly. He keeps on telling that you belong to him, that he owns you and everything but he doesn’t intend to dominate you. It’s just a way for him to convince himself that you’re still with him, and not in someone else’s arms.

You can feel your lips curving up into a smile. He’s just a clueless boy, probably still as inexperienced as you are when it comes to love.

You’re sinking more into his arms, sighing as he rakes his fingers down your spine. When silence starts to hang in the air, tension growing thick, Haechan spares you a glance. “Noona?”

You’re not sure what it is inside you that drives you wild but when you’re awake from your reverie, your lips are on his again, melting against his heat, and desperately asking him to deepen the kiss.

The way he inadvertently moans against your lips indicates that your kiss catches him off guard but he soon finds back his pace. He crawls on top of you, pressing your body closer, chest meeting chest, and murmurs your name with his silvery voice against your ear, successfully sending goosebumps to every inch of your body.

“Forget my first wish.” You can barely recognize your own voice from how husky it has become. He has his lips tracing your jawline, about to map his way down but you keep him still, not wanting to erase the warmth of his lips on yours just yet. “It’s a stupid wish anyway. I don’t know why I even asked that.”

Haechan forms a space between you, just to take another look at your face. His eyes are hooded, gleaming with desire. “Well then,” he rubs his thumb along your lower lip, while his tongue traces his own. “Can I kiss you more?”

“Yes.” It sounds more like a plead than affirmation, strongly painted with urgency. “Come here.”

Haechan’s lips are warmer than how they usually felt but you can’t be certain. It’s been a while since you last shared an intimate moment with him and you just now realized that it really isn’t just him who desperately seeks attention. You crave his touch way more than he does for yours.

But maybe that’s not true after all, because Haechan has his eyebrows furrowed as he kisses you passionately, his lips keep searching for yours whenever you try to pull away to catch a breath. The way he sinks his fingers along your hips, how determined he is in keeping you close to the point you can start counting on his eyelashes—everything that he does screams his emotions vividly. How much he longs for you. How much he misses the taste of your breath on his tongue.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, your fingers pressed against his jaw. “Please…”

Haechan blinks, a bit startled and perhaps a tad confused as well, considering you stopped him from going too far earlier. But he doesn’t complain and takes every chance he can get, if it means he can be closer to you. It’s so soft, the way he kisses you now, as if he’s having his first kiss, not sure if he’s doing it right but you don’t mind. It’s rare, being kissed by him like this, and somehow it makes your skin tingle as if merely just a touch of his lips is sending electricity to your entire body.

“I love you,” you whisper as you share his breath. “I really do love you, Hyuck.”

The way he halts his action for a good two seconds, probably letting your words sink into his head, makes your own heart skip a beat or two. And you’re worried if you say too much, or if you’ve become too needy and it annoys him, but when you sneak a glance at him, you notice how his cheeks are tainted with red before he leans closer, roughly murmuring, “Just kiss me again,” against your lips.

But the way he’s holding your body makes you feel way more loved than the words he said earlier. And he’s taking his time, just gently moves his lips against yours, his tongue slipping in only slightly to steal a taste. But you sigh against his mouth either way because it’s not only his kiss that weakens you, it’s his entire presence—the way his warmth seeps through the fabric of your dress, the way he’s holding back a moan when you unconsciously tug his locks a little bit too hard, or the way he just naturally smells so sweet, almost honey-like, numbing your other senses at once.

“Noona,” he breathes heavily, tilting his head to the side so you’ll have better access to running your lips against the skin of his neck. “I want… I need…” he trails off, too busy looking at the way you’re slipping your fingers underneath his shirt, tracing his hot feverish skin with your cold digits. “I really need you now.”

“Then keep touching me,” you mumble against his jaw, searching for his lips again. “I want to feel you too. Come closer.” But even if your words speak a sense of urgency, your fingers still feel as light as a feather on his skin and he seems to notice that, because he’s keeping up the same pace, not suddenly rushing to tear your clothes apart like how he usually does.

He chants your name over and over again, almost like a prayer, his desire running thick in his veins. As he moves down, his fingers find their way to the zipper of your dress, pulling it down slowly, and he takes his time to kiss every inch of your body that’s revealed to him one by one.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to do this to you,” he confesses, his nose skimming along the skin of your shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.” You arch your back, desperately needing to close the space between you. “I’ve missed you too.”

And you’re half-expecting him to put on a smirk and asks, “Yeah? How much, exactly?” But this time, he doesn’t. His lips are busy marking your skin, sucking gently at the spot that makes you curl your toes. He brings his eyes back to yours again when your lips moan out his name.

“Don’t do that,” he says, looking like he’s gradually losing control of himself. “You know how that drives me crazy.”

“I thought you liked it.”

“I love it, but—” He suddenly presses his lips hard against yours, as if there’s another person inside him that’s been screaming at him to latch his lips with yours before he wastes more second talking nonsense. And you try to reciprocate the movement of his lips with the same speed but he doesn’t give you much room to improvise. He knows what he’s doing, all you need to do is just relax and blend into the kiss. He already makes everything so easy for you. The problem is, he makes you feel like something is pressing against your chest and your stomach is doing crazy flips over and over again.

He finally stops again when you gasp his name.

“Ah, no, seriously.” It’s like he’s fighting a battle within himself, pulling away from you and shaking his head. “I want to take it slow today, Noona, but you moaning my name like that is not making it easy for me so please, just don’t—” He exhales, pressing his temple against yours with his eyes closed. “Don’t torture me like that.”

It’s cute how he tries to hold back, trying to be as gentle as possible. “I’m fine with the way you usually hold me, though.” It’s tempting, and he’s pretty much dazed with the sultry smirk you have on your face, but he shakes his head again, snapping him back from his own thoughts.

“No, it’s your birthday,” he says, eyes switching back and forth from your eyes to your lips as he tries to enunciate his reason. “I want to make it special.”

You raise an eyebrow suspiciously. “So you’re saying that all the sex we did before today wasn’t special to you?”

He gapes. “No, that’s not—”

“Just kidding.” You giggle, pecking his cheek. “Okay, then, do your thing.” You sit up straight so you can undress properly and his eyes are instantly glued to your chest when your bra slips down your shoulders. You don’t really intend to make it sexy, but the way his eyes grow wide when you say “I’m all yours,” and lies down on his bed again in nothing but your laced underwear seems to indicate that that’s exactly how you look in his mind.

He mutters an almost inaudible fuck under his breath before he snaps himself out of his reverie again. He stands with his knees pressed on the bed, pulling his shirt over his head before he hovers back on top of you, peppering wet kisses from your ear to your neck before he ends it with his tongue trailing down the valley of your breasts.

He stops to reach for his drawer, searching for a condom while you struggle to unfasten his belt and unbutton his jeans. You’re finished a few seconds sooner and already have your back pressed against the sheet again when he crawls on top of you with a packet of condom between his teeth.

“No, wait.” You catch him by his arm as he’s about to tear the package with his teeth. “I’m on the pill today too so you can do it without.”

“Well, fuck,” he exhales, latching his lips back to yours again. “Why are you being so nice to me today?”

“You literally just complained about me being mean to you a few minutes ago.”

“Well, now that I get to come inside you again, I’m taking all my words back.” He gives playful kisses on your nose and cheeks before he licks around your face like how a cute little puppy would.

“Stop it, you’re gross!” But your airy laughter soon begins to vanish, only to be replaced with a sense of uncertainty. You begin to feel nervous when he hooks his fingers around the edge of your underwear and pulling it down your legs, baring yourself completely for his eyes. He’s seen you naked countless times and you never really felt this nervous before so it must be because—

“You seem to be thinking about something,” he interrupts, parting your legs so he can slide in between them. “Something wrong?”

“Umm—I—“ It’s not the way you stutter that betrays you; it’s the prominent blush that stains your cheeks. But you have to do this. You have to say this. Not just for your sake, but his too. “Haechannie..?”

“Yeah, Noona?”

“For my next wish…” You wet your lip anxiously, swallowing your breath, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. “C-can you eat me out, please…?”

It’s the first time you’ve seen him so startled by your action—or by anything, really—to the point that he has to remind himself to blink. “What?”

You groan, hastily grabbing a pillow nearby and use it to cover your face. “Don’t make me say it again, you idiot!” You expect him to laugh, or worse, mock you about it but instead, he snatches the pillow away, throwing it to the side, and wraps his fingers around your wrists, holding you in place.

“Noona, please,” he pleads, his cheeks turning scarlet, mirroring yours. “Please say it again. I want to see you when you say it.”

It’s actually borderline hilarious the way he’s so serious about it, and perhaps it’s really his biggest turn on—one that he hasn’t seen coming from you after all this time—so you decide to swallow your pride and indulge him further.

You repeat your words and watch as his eyes widened again for a split second before they turn gentle, looking so happy that you finally get to answer his wish. “About damn time,” he whispers against your lips, his husky voice reverberating nicely to your ears as he tastes every bit of your mouth with his tongue. He wastes no more time, heading south while placing more wet kisses down your body.

His lips are hovering above your heat, and you can really feel his breath down there. You have your eyes closed in anticipation but Haechan suddenly says, “You know what, let’s do it this way.”

He leaves you hanging and you’re about to be swallowed by shame but he suddenly lies down on the bed, his head almost touching the headboard, and motions you to come closer. “Come here.”

“What?”

“I want you to sit on my face,” he says and you almost choke on your saliva. “Come here, Noona. Please.”

And it stresses you out so much because you’ve never done this before—never even thought about it even—and you figured you just had to lay there and let him do whatever he wants with you. Crawling over to sit on his face is clearly not what you had in mind.

“Come on,” he lightly sneers when he sees how nervous you are. “I won’t bite.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, feeling a little bit lightheaded from how embarrassed you are, but when he offers a hand, you take it and follow his lead.

You have your legs on each side of his head and he’s holding you by your hips, guiding you to lower yourself down to him. “Stop being so tense,” he chuckles and you flinch because he’s so dangerously close. “It’s not like I’ve never seen you up-close before.”

“It’s different—” You gasp when he swipes his tongue against your folds, just once, before he asks, “Different how?”

You’re too occupied with sorting out your feelings and all these sensations that coming into your head at once. “I don’t know, it’s weird—” You almost whine when you feel him moving his tongue again.

“Your thighs are shaking, Noona,” he chuckles, and you clench your teeth, trying to be less conscious of how his hot breath hitting your sensitive spot.

“Please, s-stop talking.”

“I’m trying to make this casual,” he says, his voice sounding less clear as it hits your skin. “If I stop talking, you’re gonna start thinking about things again.”

“I’m not—Haechannie—” You bring your fingers to cover your mouth to stop you from moaning too loud. He’s giving tentative licks around your clit, moving agonizingly slow and you fumble with your hands, not knowing where to place them. Everything feels both terrifyingly good and painfully awkward and you’re trapped between wanting to continue and stop at the same time.

“Here,” Haechan offers, taking one of your hands and guides it down until it finds home in his hair. “Or you can lay your hands against the headboard. But I prefer you do it this way so I’ll know if you’re feeling,” he stops to licks a stripe up your folds, making you shiver, “good, or,” this time, he stops to suck hard on your clit, startling you with the amount of pleasure jolting through your veins that your body begins to tremble. “Extremely good,” he finishes, moving to the side so he can place a kiss on your thigh, letting you feel his teasing smile on your skin.

Your breathing tatters as he continues with his ministrations, now adding one of his fingers inside you to increase the pleasure. Your head hangs low, and you’re not able to tear your eyes away from his face. Seeing him between your thighs, with his eyes closed as if he’s enjoying every second of it, is just the sexiest thing you’ve ever witnessed.

“You seem to be much more relaxed now,” Haechan leans back to show you his godforsaken smirk, “Good girl. Are you starting to regret the fact we didn’t do this sooner?”

And you want to be upset about it—about how he’s still teasing you even during this moment—but the way his breath keeps fanning against your sensitive skin makes you weak. “Please just…” You’re about to sob because it’s too damn embarrassing to be put in this situation. “Stop teasing me, Hyuck…”

Haechan blinks at your expression, his gaze immediately softens. “I’m sorry,” he says, kissing you gently on the inner part of your thigh again. “You’re just so damn cute, I can’t help but tease. Forgive me?”

And you just answer with a small nod because that’s all you can offer before his lips are pressed against your entrance again, tongue slipping inside to know how you really taste.

“Wait—” You begin to panic from how good and weird it feels. “L-let’s stop for a sec—It’s too much—” The shame, the sensation, the pleasure—they’re all hitting you hard at once and you’re too nervous to function properly.

Haechan sneaks a glance at your face, taking in the way it contorts into several emotions at once. “Baby,” he calls out softly, which sends shivers down to your core. “Don’t be nervous, it’s only me.”

You notice how he’s imitating your words from earlier and that gives you the chance to think about something else. “But… What about you..?” You ask, making eye contact with him and gulping when he raises his eyebrow in question. “I mean, I can’t please you like this.”

“Oh…” He leans his head down to the bed, giving you the space you want but not exactly what you need. “Then… Wanna do it at the same time?”

You nibble at your bottom lip, slowly nodding your head and his eyes gleam excitedly in response.

“Ah, you’re the best, seriously,” he exhales, dreamily looking at you. “All right then, turn around.”

***

It’s two hours before midnight when another idea pops up in your head. “Haechannie,” you call him out, as you click off your phone and turn to him. Hearing him humming in response, you continue. “Call Jaemin and the rest of your cute little boyband.”

By the tone of your voice, he knows he’s going to go through hell again. He groans out loud, head dangling around the edge of his bed. “Why is this day not over yet, I swear to God—”

“Just call them, I’ve got something in mind.”

“Don’t tell me you want me to make-out with them or something.”

“Why, are you interested?”

He grimaces, sticking out his tongue. “I’d rather die.”

“Glad that’s not what I’m asking then.” You climb up to join him on the bed, sitting next to his body with your knee almost touching the side of his head. He shifts around, placing his head on your lap, and stares at you with tired eyes.

“Please don’t be too mean to me this time,” he begs and you snort, can’t believe that the mischievous Lee Donghyuck actually begs you to spare his life.

You card your fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes, relaxing at your touch. It doesn’t last long though, his blissfulness, because on the next second, you say, “I want you to play that online game you always play with them but be terribly bad at it.”

“WHAT—“ He blurts out, sitting upright in such a rush that he almost knocks your heads together. “WHY—HOW COULD YOU—”

“Okay, breathe.”

“But this is too much!” He whines, his eyes widening in horror. “I have a status to uphold! You can’t do this to me!”

“Look, if it matters that much to you, I’ll give you permission to explain the situation to them.” You squeeze his hand, smiling understandingly at him. “You can tell them that you’re doing this because you’re granting my birthday wish.”

That manages to calm him down a little. “So I can let them know before the game? Oh, thank God—”

“No, a month after the game.”

“WHY ARE YOU SO EVIL—”

“Just do it already!” You shout out with a teasing grin strapped to your face. “You owe me at least that much after I let you come in my mouth.”

He gapes, eyes widening in shock. “That was for this?! I feel so tricked!”

“Well, I wasn’t thinking about that before but—” You shake your head, waving the rest of your sentence away. “Come on, Haechannie, please, please, please~” You rub your hands together, batting your eyelashes again.

He grumbles, pushing you away. “Stop doing that aegyo on me, I’m not doing it!”

I’ll grant you five wishes for your birthday!” You can’t believe you’re saying this and you know you’re going to regret it later in the future but there’s still time and you hope he’s gonna forget about it when the time arrives. Hopefully.

Haechanlooks extremely tempted at that. “Any kind of wishes?”

You wince but nod eventually. “As long as it’s nothing sexual.”

“Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that.” His smirk is back and he’s doing it so cockily that it sends shivers down your spine. Well, you can work over that problem later. “Fine, let’s go. Give me the phone.”

Haechan calls Jaemin an asswipe the first second he gets connected but by the sound of his voice coming from the other line, he’s not even bothered in the slightest. “Get off Jeno’s dick for once and log back into your account. Bring Jisung with you. I’ll be online in ten minutes and if I don’t see you there, I’ll text your mom the real reason why you didn’t show up on Christmas Day.” And he shuts off his phone with a click, throwing it randomly on his bed.

“Do boys normally make phone calls like that?” you ask, judging him.

He only shrugs, “Cooler ones do.”

“What happened during Christmas Day?”

“Jaemin got his ass drunk, went out with Jeno, and ended up having a threesome with a stripper.” He yawns, throwing himself back on the bed again. “I’m just glad they didn’t take Jisung with them. He’s been through a lot, that poor kid.” And when he sees you raising an eyebrow in question, he just waves you off. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

There’s a lot of shouting in the background when the game started, most of it coming from the other line of Haechan’s headphones that’s strapped to his ears. You lean close to him so you can hear Jeno shouting at him, “Yah! What the fuck, Lee Donghyuck?! I thought you said you were going left!”

“I am going left.”

“THAT’S NOT LEFT, YOU IDIOT!”

And you feel sorry for your boyfriend for degrading himself on purpose like this. “As you can see,” he says, wincing as his ears begin to ring from all the shouting. He mutes his headphone as he focuses back on you with his fingers angrily tapping on his keyboards. “This causes me physical pain. I hope you’re happy.”

“I am happy.” You peck him on his cheek. “You’re the best. I love you.”

Haechan snorts, looking away and tapping his headphone again to unmute his microphone. “Hey assholes, I just died again. Sorry about that.” More screaming and angry rantings can be heard from the other line and you savor the moment as long as you can. It’s not every day you can see your cocky boyfriend being bullied by his underlings.

It’s too fun watching him play with his face contorting like he’s in deep agony that you begin to lose track of time. You just realize how late it is when Haechan suddenly quits the game, puts his PC back to the sleeping mode, and turns his chair around to face you. You suddenly feel nervous as you sit on the edge of his bed, with him staring at you with a sinful smile creeping up his face, crossing his legs.

“Ten, nine, eight,” he says, tapping his fingers and you flinch in realization. “You better start running, Noona.” He walks over, chucking off his shirt on his way to you whilst continuing his countdown. His silver necklace glints under the fluorescent light of his room and he bends down, trapping you between his arms. “Because I’ll be in charge in three… two…”

You gulp, your heart thrumming loudly against your ribcages as you feel his lips hovering dangerously above yours.

“One.”

***

979 notes · View notes

i-wont-ever-leave · 3 years

Note

How about one where the Aot girls + hange react to the reader playing a role in a action movie but dying in the end either a heroic way or a sad way

You don’t have to write a whole bunch but I thought this would be cool

OMGGG THIS IS AMAZING, i did something, I don't know if that's what you mean, but there it is... thanks <3 (i almost cried doing the part of mikasa's reaction)

× × ×

AOT girls + Hange reacting to your death at the end of a movie

POV: you are an actress and die at the end of the movie

WARNING: death

SPOILERS: Attack on Titan (season 4) and Fear Street 1666 (part 3)

× × ×

MIKASA (reacting to a sad death)

- You and Mikasa have been dating for a long time, Mikasa works with music, she is a successful singer

- You're a successful actress and you're at the peak of your career, you've been called up for a new action movie

- The theme was about giants that invaded the world and there were walls to protect humans

- You are one of the main characters, you were hired to be the comfort character of the movie, as the movie is very terrifying

- During the recordings some scenes were leaked and the audience already loved you and your character

- Mikasa was looking forward to seeing the movie and seeing more of your scenes, as you couldn't tell much about the movie

- One day after reading the script, you were shocked at what would happen to your character

- Mikasa bragged to everyone that your character was awesome and would rock

- On opening day you can take Mikasa with you to watch the premier with the other actors and actresses

- Mikasa was super excited watching your scenes, you were super fun, badass and fought super well, every time mikasa gave you little kisses congratulating you on your work

- Until a tense part of the film came, you were coming back from a war against an "enemy civilization", everyone started celebrating that everything had gone right in the war and that everyone was fine

- The guests at the cinema started to scream with happiness because all the main characters were fine, until...

- "NOOOOO" all the people in the cinema started to scream and cry in despair when they saw the scene of a little girl breaking into the airship and pointing the gun at the character of y/n soon shooting at her

- "WHAAAAAAAT" Mikasa yelled in your ear and you laughed, she was in tears, crying like a baby

- At the end of the movie, the character's friends appeared, taking flowers to the grave and crying a lot

- "Y/N, WHAT THE FUCKING END WAS THAT???? YOU DIED TO A FUCKING CHILD" she said still crying as you got ready for bed

- "baby I'll always be the potato girl, even after I'm dead they'll always remember me and love me... I forgive that little brat who killed me."

HANGE (reacting to a heroic death)

- Hange and you are actresses and were asked to do a thriller/action movie together

- You'll be doing part 3 of a movie, where you'll show the origin of a curse that happens in a quiet little town

- The film is from an ancient time, hange would play the daughter of a pastor and you would be a girl that people believe is a witch

- The recordings go perfectly, your characters like each other, but they live in a forbidden relationship in which people of the time believe to be a sin, so keep it a secret

- The kissing and making out scenes go perfectly, because you two date in real life, so it flows super natural

- The movie starts to get tense when you are caught in the act and strange things start happening in the village

- At home, outside of the performances, you and Hange talk a lot about the scenes, you still don't know what will happen at the end of the film, but she believe you'll be happy...

- Until then you finally read the script at the end and discover that actually y/n dies

- Hange is shocked by this ending, "y/n I can't believe you're going to dieeeee"

- "At least it will be a heroic act right my love, I'll save you from being hanged"

- "Oh my God I love you so much, but in real life know that I would do anything to save you and die in your place"

PIECK (reacting to a dumb death)

- You are a beginning actress and you were asked to do a zombie movie

- Pieck, your girlfriend was super happy to see you in scene

- As soon as the recordings started, you had to travel and you would stay away from pieck, you couldn't talk to her about anything from the movie, so as not to leak information

- the recordings ended quickly as it was a short film and the film's premiere shortly after would be released on a streaming service

- as soon as you came home pieck disturbed you to find out how it went and you just said "you will be surprised"

- Watching the movie together at home she started to get excited watching your scenes, you were the typical asshole character who cursed others and was an idiot and felt superior to everyone

- Pieck counted the minutes you appeared on screen "y/n, love, you already have 15 min of scene going"

- Towards the end of the movie your character starts running in the woods, trips and falls

- "FUCK, S/N GET OFF THE GROUND" Pieck yells at the screen

- "WHAT THE FUCKING END WAS THAT???? YOU TRUMBLE LIKE AN IDIOT AND DIED BEING EAT BY ZOMBIES?????? YOU SAID I WOULD BE SURPRISED BUT IN A 30 MIN MOVIE YOU ONLY APPEARED FOR 16 MIN AND STILL DIED IN THE MOST CLICK AND DUMB WAY IN THE WORLD"

- "BAAAAAABY" you laughed at her reaction

YELENA (reacting to a idiot death)

- "baby, remember the movie I told you I'm going to do?"

- "of course, i'm excited, do you already know what will happen y/n?"

- "yes I'm going to be a zombie" you say laughing

- she looks at you and laugh "that's nice baby, I bet that in the end they'll create a cure using your blood or something like that"

- "not really, it's just that I'm only going to live for about 5 minutes and I'm going to get shot in the face with a shotgun"

- "WHAT THE FUCK Y/N??? DID YOU ENTER THE FUCKING MOVIE AS A ZOMBIE FIGURANT?" she almost died from laughing.

REQUEST OPENED

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anabsolutetrainwreck · 3 years

Text

in your rainbow paradise || h. styles

warnings: famous!reader, no covid/pre-covid, mentions of kissing

word count: 1.9k

summary: harry’s your date to the premiere of your new film...

The premiere of a new film was always nerve-wracking for any actor. Sitting through the first viewing of the finalised product, waiting for the opinions of the critics to start rolling in was a feeling you’d only become aware of six years ago when your first film came out. And now, here you were, preparing for the premiere of your eighth film. As well as nearing the six year anniversary of your so far successful acting career, you’d just celebrated five years with Harry.

For about four and a half of those wonderful years, you’d been the ‘it’ couple. Constant eyes tracing every move you made as a partnership and interviewers never failing to ask about marriage and kids. Truth be told, you and Harry were both young. You were at the height of your careers, or at least on the way to the climax of it. There was time for settling down later.

The night before a premiere was always the worst. You’d find yourself awake, sleep not even seeming an option for you. Harry would be asleep most likely, being one of the most carefree people you know. Most of the time on nights like these, you’d light a candle and venture out onto the balcony with a blanket and simply admire the empty streets below and the skyscraper-filled horizon. And, while these tranquil nights were heavenly to you, they almost always resulted in Harry scolding you for sitting outside in the bitter cold of the night. On top of Harry’s scolding, you’d receive the same from Danny, your stylist, for the bags under your eyes.

Yours and Harry’s stylists had worked together on your premiere look. They’d opted for a cohesive look, bringing small elements of Harry’s suit into your dress to make for a matching set. ‘Just one big look’ was how Danny had put it as you were at your first fitting.

The sound of a cheering audience approaching got increasingly louder. Your knee was bouncing slightly, Harry’s hand on your thigh. “They’ll love it,” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

“You don’t know that,” you replied.

He smiled, “They love anything you’re in.”

That brought a smile to your face. He was so supportive and it never failed to make your heart melt. Now Harry had had a taste of what it felt like to attend the premiere of your own film, he could understand the nerves you felt before every one. “Right, come on,” Harry smiled softly, leaning down to kiss you.

You got out of the car after Harry, being met with screams of fans. Putting on your best smile for the cameras as Harry leaned over to squeeze your hand. He guided you along the red carpet, his hand placed on your lower back. He couldn’t help but find himself admiring how gorgeous you looked.

Taking pictures with fans was always one of your favourite things at premieres. Getting to be so close with the people who admired you was a joy of yours. You always tried to chat with them, though that wasn’t always possible. You were just as excited to meet fans as they were to meet you, apart from the three times you’d accidentally dropped fans’ phones. The best part about bringing Harry along was that the fans usually wanted pictures with Harry too. “You look stunning, by the way,” Harry whispered in your ear.

“So do you,” You replied, turning to grin up at him. He squeezed your waist, pressing his lips to your temple. Your names were being cried out by photographers and various news outlet journalists. All you could do was smile, leaning into Harry’s side slightly. Posing for pictures was perhaps the worst aspect of a premiere. For two or three minutes you had to stay perfectly gorgeous, turning your head slightly and twisting your body to face whichever photographer demanded you do so. And then you’d have to do the same all over again on your own, Harry stood to the side sending you supportive grins.

A security guard ushered you along towards the hoard of journalists, their microphones outstretched. You could see your costar, Tom, take your spot in front of the photographers. “Y/N! Y/N!” a woman called, catching your attention. “Hello.”

“Hi,” you grinned, pulling Harry over with you. “How are you?”

“I’m great, thank you! And you? How are you two?” she asked.

“We’re good, aren’t we?” you smiled, looking up at Harry to see him nod.

“You both look wonderful, by the way. The matching outfits are beginning to become a bit of a trend between the two of you,” she said, admiring the outfits.

“I guess so. Our stylists are friends, so they like to collaborate on looks,” you replied. “I think this is my favourite, though.”

“I’m not surprised! They’re beautiful. And Harry, which of yours and Y/N’s matching looks is your favourite?”

He hummed in thought for a moment. His eyes trailed up and down your body, getting a proper look at the dress you were wearing. “Probably the Met Gala look. I loved that one,” he finally answered.

“That was a good one. Now, Y/N, how excited are you for your fans to see the film?” she questioned, her face lit up in an incredibly bright smile.

“Very excited. It’s a project I’m really proud of and I hope they enjoy it,” you said.

“I’m sure they will. Now, I have to say, people are predicting a few Oscar nominations from the trailer alone,” she grinned.

“Oh, are they?” you laughed.

“They are. What do you have to say about that?”

“It would be incredible to even be nominated but there are a lot of much more talented actors in the industry, so I doubt it’ll happen. We can always hope, though,” you said.

“Don’t say that,” Harry said, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “You’re incredibly talented.”

You grinned up at him, laying your head on his shoulder as a means to thank him. This man never failed to make you feel worthy. Your little moment was interrupted by the journalist grinning, “Get yourself a man who hypes you up like Harry hypes up Y/N. Well, it’s been lovely talking to you both.”

“And you,” you said quickly.

“Thank you very much. I hope you both enjoy the film,” she smiled, before turning her attention to Greta, the director. You quickly exchanged a hug with her, telling her how beautiful she looked. It had been almost a year since you’d last seen her on your final day of production.

You did a few more interviews with Harry, laughing and joking with him throughout. Besides, the fans loved it when you were both yourselves around one another at big events. Finally, you were doing one final interview before heading in to actually watch the film for the first time. “Hi, guys! It’s great to see you here today,” the interviewer smiled - though you were sure he was probably sick of the cheering fans and asking the same questions to the cast, only to receive almost identical answers every time.

“It would be pretty rude for Y/N not to show up today,” Harry joked, a cheeky grin etched into his features.

“This is true,” he laughed. “Now, Y/N, I just want to ask, this is your eighth film, do you have any plans for anything slightly different in the future?”

“What, like music? Yeah, I’ll just do what Harry did, randomly enter a whole new area of show business unannounced. Look out for my album, dropping next year!” you joked, earning a slight nudge in the ribs from Harry.

“Hey,” he frowned. “That isn’t very nice, Y/N.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said. “Is your ego too fragile?”

The journalist laughed at the banter the two of you shared, feeling as if he was invading a moment of privacy slightly. You looked back to him, smiling sweetly, apologetically, “But to answer your question seriously, I am working on a project. Something is in the works. It’s a little bit different to acting.”

“Can we have any hints as to what it may be?”

“Something directorial maybe?” you teased, grinning.

“That sounds exciting. Now, I’m curious about the two of you. You’re both very talented in what you do. So, Harry which of Y/N’s films is your favourite. And, for Y/N, which of Harry’s songs is your favourite?”

You both took a moment to think about that question. It was a nice change from ‘Harry, when are you proposing?’ or ‘are kids a plan for your future?’. The two of you exchanged a glance, waiting to see who would answer first. In the end, it was Harry, “Probably Clementines of the Ripest Variety. I really loved that film and I loved Y/N in it.”

You felt your cheeks heating up; hearing Harry sing your praises, particularly in front of lots of people always made you feel warm inside. He rubbed circles on your bare back, where the dress didn’t cover it, sending nerves rippling through your system. Clementines of the Ripest Variety was a courtroom film you’d shot back in 2017 that had been received particularly well by the critics. It ended up winning the most awards out of any movie you’d worked on and it was some of your proudest work. That was why Harry loved it so much - he knew how hard you’d worked for it. “And Y/N?”

“My favourite song of Harry’s? There are so many incredible ones. I’ll go with Fine Line. Such an amazing song,” you smiled.

“Amazing,” the journalist grinned. He asked a few more questions about the film before finally saying, “Thank you so much for your time. Have a great evening.”

“You too,” you smiled as you and Harry left the red carpet.

Your feet were aching and your cheeks were sore from all the forced smiles you’d had to endure throughout the course of the evening. Once you were settled in your seats, you could finally relax out of the ever piercing gaze of the public. After a quick introduction from Greta, the film began. And you could feel the nerves that had been exploring your stomach beforehand slowly dissipating as you got lost in the flow of the film. You’d occasionally sneak a glance at Harry in an attempt to gauge his opinions before the credits rolled and you could finally ask him how he felt about your latest work.

He’d always smile whenever you were on screen. It was a habit he’d adopted for as long as the two of you had been together. No matter what you were doing on screen, he was just proud to see his darling succeed. Although, you were the same really. Whenever one of Harry’s songs came on the radio or he was mentioned in passing on the television, you became beyond proud of him.

As the credits finally did roll and your name came up in big against the blackness of the screen, which was a feeling you were sure you’d never become used to, Harry leaned over to kiss you. You smiled into it, feeling him do the same. “You were perfect, love,” he said.

“You’re too kind to me,” you laughed quietly.

“It was just an observation from a fan,” he shrugged, smirking.

You shook your head, laughing at him, “Was it? But, from a boyfriend’s perspective, what did you think?”

“I still thought you were perfect, my love.”

#harry styles #harry fanfic #harry fanfiction #harry imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry x y/n #harry x reader #harry x you #harry styles imagines #harry imagines

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harrywritingsbyme · 3 years

Note

Hi would you mind writing a short lil something about Harry and Reader turning bubs‘ room into a big boy room and getting kind of emotional getting rid/storing away all his baby stuff? That last ask was so cute 🥺

Growing Up

Based Off Of This Ask

A/N: So I just wanted to write something. So I wrote some dad!Harry fluff for y’all bc this concept was too cute and I just loved it so much. It’s just a little blurb, that kinda gives me a head cannon type of vibe for some reason...so I hope it doesn’t suck lmao! enjoy🥺🥰

Your little boy was growing up so fast. It was almost as if you had blinked and the time just passed you both by. You and Harry could vividly remember the day you two found out that you were expecting, when bubs was just a tiny bean in your stomach. The both of you were beyond happy in that moment. You were gleefully jumping around the bedroom and you two let the joy filled tears from the amazing news flow from your eyes as you celebrated this monumental moment in you guys’ family and life together.

Over the course of the nine or so months following that day, you and Harry happily watched as your baby boy (and you for that matter) grew. You and Harry got to see your baby at your scheduled ultrasounds and you watched him transform from a little dot on the screen to a fully formed baby with ten fingers and toes along with a miniature version of Harry’s nose. The two of you felt bubs growing too. When you felt yourself getting bigger, your son was getting bigger as well. Along with the increase in the amount of weight forming in your midsection, you could feel your son moving around too. As you became farther along in your pregnancy, you could feel your baby boy moving around in your stomach more and more. There were so many times where bubs would move around and kick you, to which you’d let out a sharp wince and Harry would softly yet “sternly” reprimand his son letting him know that it wasn’t nice to kick his mommy. But even though you could definitely go without a swift kick to your ribs, you couldn’t stop the little smile from spreading across your face once you got over the initial pain of it all. You were so happy to feel that your baby boy was growing and healthy, and you were beyond excited to see him.

Along with a couple of very memorable days throughout your pregnancy, and the day you found out that you were expecting, the day you finally gave birth was definitely a day that would always remain clear at the forefront of you and Harry’s minds. After an epidural(that was hardly effective in your opinion), hours upon hours of being in labor, a lot of tears, and some strong screams at Harry, the two of you finally welcomed your baby boy into the world. He was absolutely perfect and everything you and Harry had envisioned. Even though he was much bigger than the tiny dot on the screen at the very early stage of your pregnancy, he was still incredibly tiny. Especially when he was in Harry’s arms. The two of you soaked up every moment with your baby boy and neither of you wanted him to grow up and not be the little baby that fit perfectly in your arms. Even when he kept the two of you up at night and into the wee hours of the morning, you and Harry never wanted him to grow up.

But that’s exactly what he did. Again, it was like the two of you blinked and the time just blew right past you both. One moment he was the tiny little human that found his home in your belly and then in your arms. And the next he was a two and a half year old carbon copy of Harry with a sprinkle of you in the mix that had a big and amazing personality of his own. He was without a doubt you and Harry’s favorite person in the world and there weren’t enough words in the world to describe how much love you two had for that little boy. But even though this was the case, you and Harry couldn’t help but miss that little baby you brought home two and a half years ago.

And since he was no longer a baby anymore, it was time for bubs to get his first big boy room.

He’d already outgrown so many of the clothes you and Harry had gotten him along with the toys he had. The last thing on the outgrown list was the crib. And once that was finally crossed off the list, it meant that he’d finally outgrown everything. Which meant that it was time to give him a room that best suited him and his growth along with his interests. You and Harry noticed that bubs had taken a great interest in dinosaurs. From the toys he wanted and played with to the books he wanted to read to his favorite pajamas, everything was dinosaurs. So that’s what you and Harry decided to play off of when building your sons new room. The two of you wanted to create a dinosaur oasis for him and you wanted it to be everything that the toddler could possibly want. For almost four months you and Harry bought all of the furniture and decor that fit perfectly into the dinosaur theme the two of you had envisioned. And as it all came in, the two of you were able to perfectly and seamlessly put the room together. Every once in a while having a little hiccup in the process like not centering a nail on the wall or something, but nothing major.

Now while you and Harry were loving the project and enjoyed doing this for your son, it was still a really hard process for you both. Particularly for Harry though. As the two of you got closer to being done with the new room, you and Harry began packing up bubs’ baby clothes and things that he grew out of so that you could donate them and make space for the new things you two had gotten for him. As you two packed though, Harry was incredibly sad. While he loved his little man who ran around and was just full of life and energy, he missed his little baby. He couldn’t pick him up and have him all snug and tucked into his arms the same way he used to. Bubs was bigger and all of that was sinking in now as Harry packed up all of the small clothes and toys. With everything that was placed into the container, a little coo or memory left Harry’s mouth. He couldn’t stop himself from getting a little emotional at the fact that his baby was now a big boy. The both of you were incredibly sad that he was growing up so fast.

And even though it was an incredibly sad thing to think about, what made both you and Harry happy about it all was the big smile and shouts of amazement that came from your son once you two revealed the room to him. He was absolutely in love with his new big boy bed and all of the dinosaur pictures and decor on the walls, and the toys, and the dinosaur nightlight you two had gotten for him. He ran around the room looking at everything and taking it all in and just loving what his mommy and daddy put together for him. He couldn’t stop saying the cutest little thank you’s which only melted you and Harry even more. Seeing bubs so happy made you and Harry beyond happy and it made the whole growing up thing a bit easier.

After showing some of the things he couldn’t immediately see in his new room and playing with him a bit, you and Harry decided to step out and let bubs enjoy his new room for a little bit while you two continued with cleaning out his old room. The two of you gave the little boy a ton of squeezes and kisses before leaving him alone with his toys and getting back to packing all the baby stuff up. You and Harry had a set up on the floor so the two of you got back down there and went back to folding and looking through things. After a little while though, Harry couldn’t do it anymore. He was too overcome with the fact that his baby boy was getting bigger and now had his first big boy room. All of it was just too much for him. Keeping the little clothing item in his hand, Harry turns himself around and lays down on the floor, resting his head in your lap and causing you to turn your attention onto him.

“What’s going on babe?” You ask, finishing up the fold on the item in your hands before giving him your full attention.

“M’sad” Harry mumbles with a big pout spread across his face.

“Why baby?” You coo, bringing one of your hands to the side of his face and the other to his hair.

“Because! Our baby isn’t a baby anymore.” Harry whines dramatically.

“It’s not like he’s 30 or something with a wife and kid of his own...you are.” You joke, trying to lighten the mood.

“Y/n!” He whines.

“Okay fine! I hate it when you’re all mopey and sad, so don’t be. I’m sad too, but it’ll be okay. No matter how big he gets, he’ll always be our baby.”

“I know, I just can’t stop thinking about how small he was when we brought him home and how he really needed us. Now he’s this little person who isn’t as small and who is starting to not need us. He’s his own little person.” He explains.

“Well he is his own little person. But he’s only two and a half, so he’ll be needing us for a good while Harry.” You reassure him with a little laugh, trying your best to comfort your very emotional husband. “What will make you feel better? What’s gonna make my baby feel better?” You coo, softly pinching his cheek in the process.

“Make another baby?” He proposes, turning is head up towards you.

“You know that takes both of us right?” You ask sarcastically, trying your hardest to not roll your eyes at him.

“If I’m not mistaken, I remember you being a big fan of the baby making process.” He reminds you smugly.

“Maybe.”

“See! Plus we’ve talked about it a couple times, so it’s the perfect time.” He says happily in your lap. “If we put bubs down for his nap now, we can have our second bubby cooking in there by dinner.” He says optimistically, bringing a hand up to your currently empty stomach.

“I don’t think that’s how it works Harry.” You deadpan, trying to hold back your laughs from how happy and cute he was in this moment.

“Who cares?! It never hurts to try!!” Harry continues on. “Are you in?” He asks hopefully.

“Let’s make another baby then.” You giggle, giving in to the idea. From the outside looking in, it may have looked like a bit of a spur of the moment thing. But in actuality, you were already thinking of possibly adding another member to the Styles family. You too were sad at the idea of your little boy growing up. And on top of that, you wanted him to have a sibling and someone to play with. So it all kind of worked out. Bubs was going to be turning three soon and you and Harry were really thinking and talking about another baby so it was perfect. You just hoped that you wouldn’t be popping out another baby as each of the other kids were growing up. You were kind of crossing your fingers that going forward a big boy bed didn’t come with the quest of having another baby.

Maybe after baby number two harry wouldn’t be so sad about growing up.

Masterlist

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kimtaejin · 3 years

Text

La Luxure (m.)

↳ Thank you to @kim-seok-jin for the beautiful banner and dividers, and to @chillingtae for helping her with it! ^^

Heartbroken and done with relationships, Y/N decides to vent about her breakup to the sweetest bartender. Yet just a glance in his dark eyes is enough to tell her that maybe, just maybe she won’t spend the night crying for an ex-boyfriend, but drowning in her lust for him instead.

↠ Pairing: Jungkook × f.reader

↠ Word Count: 10.9k

↠ Genres: Angst, smut, fluff, (slight) crack (if you squint)

↠ Rating: 18+

↠ Trigger Warnings: Breakups and toxic relationship, cheating, swearing, physical fight, drama, alcohol, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex, hinted voyeurism, one night stand, long foreplay, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, degrading, creampie

⇢ This story was written as a birthday gift to @rubinora. We hope you had an amazing day! :D ⇠

Soojin: Y/N come quick.

You take a deep breath. I’m almost there, Soojin, I’m almost there. The sound of your footsteps against the pavement is the only thing you hear. You would’ve made it. You would’ve made it in time if it wasn’t for your pesky co-workers.

To the usual person, it is a cool Friday night.

To you, it is one of the worst days of your life.

… Or maybe you wouldn’t go as far as to call it that. Maybe, in the future, you would even call this one of your good days.

But for now?

You smile bitterly, uncaring who sees. Right now- there’s nothing more you want to do than scream. Yell. Anything to take away the fury and pain burning bright in your chest.

Your eyes fall on a couple as you pass them by, reminding you of the reason you’re out in the streets this late at night, instead of relaxing at home.

Jihyuk.

Your boyfriend.

Someone you had a deep admiration for. Someone you loved.

Someone who doesn’t feel the same way anymore.

It had all started when you had seen him come home hours later than usual. You gave him the benefit of the doubt. You told yourself that he must be out in town with his friends while you were at work, since he must’ve been bored alone. Because the deal is, he wasn’t employed. He had neither a job nor a penny in his bank account.

And that’s where you helped him. You were the worker. You put a roof over his head, you were the reason he had food on the plate everyday. You were there when he needed to buy anything. It felt more like you were a single parent providing for a child rather than a real, romantic relationship. And that should’ve been more than enough of a reason to leave him but you didn’t.

And now you regret it.

The next thing that came were the hickies on his neck. Purple bruises put on display, with his flushed cheeks- sometimes he was even drunk. Still, you helped him. Still, you gave him the benefit of a doubt, even when his ears turned red when you asked him if he was lying about just hanging out with friends.

Because there was no point in asking and answering. You already knew what he was doing, already saw the truth in his eyes.

And somehow still, everytime your friends would show you Jihyuk kissing some other girl, every time they’d tell you that they saw him out with some chick, you’d tell them they had to be seeing things. That the pictures could be photoshopped. Or maybe this was just a joke to make you dump him. But those things weren’t things you were saying to them, as much as it was to yourself, to convince your mind that what you saw or heard wasn’t it. It wasn’t the truth.

The truth is everything that has yet to be revealed today.

And at this point, you had gotten over the crying, the weeping, the sorrow and the regret. What is left is the anger- the feeling of being used.

You had given him everything, literally everything, only for him to treat you like some side doll. It hurt then. It hurt even now. It hurt a lot, especially on those nights, when you’d greet him after he came home, the smell of perfume thick on his body, lips bitten and swollen, cheeks red and flushed.

“Do you want dinner?” you’d ask, your eyes wandering anywhere but his face.

“Uh, no, I’m full. I ate out with friends, one of them treated the group.”

Lies. So many lies, told just so you’d keep him under your wing, protected and financially secured.

You smile widely even though inside, your heart wrenches. Why couldn’t he just tell you? It wasn’t like he thought you hadn’t noticed his aloof behaviour. How it affected you in turn.

Or did he? Maybe, he just thought that you were actually that dumb.

Maybe you really were that ignorant.

“Oh... okay. Well... I still have to eat,” you waited for this douche. You can’t believe it. Starved yourself so you could eat dinner with him when he probably was out with a girl. “So… do you want to talk as I eat?”

“Uhm,” his eyes met yours for a moment before he turned them away. “Uh- babe, I’m sorry… I’m tired after the long day, so,” he gave you a small smile. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “If you really want, I can go, but uh, let me take a shower first? Honestly… my, uh, friends can be so rowdy… I’m exhausted, but I guess you were waiting for me and all…”

You bit your lip as the warring thoughts of indignation, and yet also guilt filled you. “No- no, nevermind. If you’re tired,” you clenched your fists, “you should- go rest now.”

“Are you sure, babe? I wouldn’t want you to think I was avoiding you. Maybe I should-”

“No! No, I told you, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re the only person who understands and loves me best,” he praised you- and you felt a spark of fury, of hate and love grow in your chest. Was that all he could say to you? “See you tomorrow, then,” he said, his smile fainting away before walking past you to the bedroom. You stared at him until he left, until you couldn’t see him anymore as his silhouette disappeared upstairs.

The next day went similarly. You had arrived at your empty home.

Why?

Then there were days where you felt a little too insecure and asked him instead.

“Baby, are you… cheating on me?”

His body froze. He didn’t say anything for a moment, sitting on the couch as you had begged him a little earlier to watch a K-drama with you. Maybe it would’ve made the relationship a little better. Maybe you could’ve bonded. But he only seemed to be interested on his phone screen.

“What makes you say that?” Still, his eyes did not lift up to look at you.

“Eun says she saw you with this girl,” you muttered quietly, so quietly that you thought he wouldn’t have heard it. But he did. “She must have seen someone else,” he replied in a nonchalant manner.

“But it really looked like you, she said…”

“Do you believe her over me?” You watched him as he finally looked at you. “I’m your boyfriend, for God’s sake,” you bit your lip, then sighed heavily. It didn’t let all the words escape you. “I know, but…”

“If you want to end this relationship, I won’t stop you. But just know, you won’t find a better guy than me. After all, here I am, taking the time to watch with you, and you accuse me of cheating?”

Maybe you won’t find someone better. But even so, you knew that you didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve the late nights, wondering where he was, why he wasn’t home, if you’d done something wrong. No, you deserved better- and even if that better wasn’t from someone else, it certainly wouldn’t be from him.

Jihyuk huffed before standing up, wearing his coat and moments later, you heard the front door open and close. Moments of silence filled the room. You waited for Jihyuk expectantly, waiting for it to open and reveal him, but it didn’t.

“I wish I didn’t meet you.”

You are so over it. You are so over him.

You and Soojin had decided to catch him in the act. Your best friend had come up with the plan, and initially you had been in denial of it. But you had to end this cycle. You were so tired of it, of the constant stress you had to live with, of the burden that you weren’t supposed to carry.

You chose to set him up. If he agreed to Soojin’s advances, you were going to catch him red-handed and break it off right there and then.

And he had done exactly what you didn’t want him to.

Of course he had. You should’ve caught onto him a long time ago, but you really were a fool. And now that disgusted you. Hate intended for him enveloped you for your own self.

Walking into the dim-lit club, you are greeted by the sight of bodies pushing up against each other on the dance floor, the faint smell of alcohol lingering everywhere you step, and a bar, shining the brightest in the place. Silhouettes with their lips’ on one another, people drinking down glasses of liquor by each second that passed. A part of you is disgusted that Jihyuk took Soojin to a club, and the other isn’t surprised at all. No wonder the marks on his neck, his swollen lips.

Y/N: I’m here.

Soojin: Ok I’m in the bathroom hiding he was getting too close

Y/N: Right... lets meet up at the bar then.

Soojin: Ok!

Walking swiftly to the bar, you hope Jihyuk doesn’t see you, though in the wild crowd, you know he likely won’t.

You search for a familiar face as you reach the bar. Your eyes wander and land on the blonde that seems to be looking slightly lost.

“Soojin!” You call out and walk over to her, knowing fully well what is next. “Where is he?”

“Follow me,” you hear her voice above the loud music. Her disheveled figure makes its way to the seats. You can barely see her in the dark place, if not for the neon lightings flashing here and there.

You take a deep breath in.

Under a stray lighting, you catch sight of the hair you used to so fondly caress. Another one beside it, too close for them to be anything but sitting close, closer than friends, and definitely strangers. A few steps closer and you’d be close enough to see them clearly, close enough to catch him cheating perfectly.

Your heart feels numb, for a moment, contrary to before, but-

Three.

It’s funny how you can hear your heels echoing even in this noisy club. Or maybe that’s the beating of your heart.

Two.

Thinking back on everything that you’d gone through with him, if there’s any emotion that you think you should be feeling right now, it’s disbelief. Why? Did all the tender touches, all the kisses, all the ‘I love you’s mean nothing then?

It must, or else this wouldn’t be happening at all. One.

Yet even so, your ever traitorous heart still weeps at the sight before you, as your gazes both match.

Jihyuk’s eyes widen as he sees you. His lips are pressed to the side of a girl’s neck, and even under the dim lighting, you can see the dark splotches of color on her pale skin. The girl beside him whimpers, leaning in closer, seeking his touches, the way he used to make you feel oh so good, your mind whispers.

He only pushes her away, frozen in place as he locks you down with guilt in his eyes.

The loud, deafening music somehow doesn’t matter anymore.

“Y/N,” his voice can barely be heard, but for someone like you who’s watched him utter your name with adoration before, you hear him perfectly.

"Well… I guess I’m not that surprised.” Your words are dry, devoid of feeling. Your fists are clenched. Your smile is wry. “What do you have to say for yourself?" you are going to do this quick, you tell yourself. But the crowd of people overhearing the matter already have their eyes on you.

As it is, even people lost in the rhythm of the club’s music are interested in your confrontation, bodies stopping in motion, only for strange eyes to stare at you with curiosity instead.

It’s scary. You can’t do this, a part of you wants to say- but how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone and felt the butterflies dance in your stomach, telling a tale so similar to the one of your lips? How long has it been since you’ve wanted to do something like that?

Your heart burns.

Truth be told, too long. Too fucking long. You’ve spent too much time in misery for you to turn your back on the person that brought you it. You want to be free. Breathe air without feeling suffocated, sleep without having to think about a person being next to you as you do so.

Free, at last.

“I-” he tries to speak, but you look at him quietly, face devoid of any emotion, only your lips tightening a clue to your current mood.

“Don’t you feel like shit? Leaving me alone on those nights when I actually put a roof over your head, when I’m the main reason you get to eat food every day? Why did you do this to me?”

You know you sound desperate. Here he is, clearly in the arms of another, yet you’re asking him, staring at him, waiting for an answer, an excuse, but he is able to give none. It only makes it all the worse, it only makes you gasp for more air, because each time he doesn’t reply, the walls get tighter and tighter.

“Fuck, if you wanted someone to give you a good time in bed, why couldn’t it have been me? We were in a relationship!” you exclaim. More people are gathering around, but at this point, you can’t care less.

“Could you not control yourself for once?! Do you have no shame coming home each day smelling like sex? Do you not love me?” The last words leave you as a whisper, your voice choked up and your tone vulnerable. It is evident he didn’t love you, if he did then he wouldn’t have done this. But you still wanted to ask. In case there was the smallest chance that he would give you something to hold onto.

“What about the times that you lied? Do you have no heart?” A single tear slips down your cheek.

Fuck. You hate this.

Seconds pass, and nothing but his silence answers you. And when he does- it does nothing but rile you even further.

“Babe…” There’s the guilt in his eyes, that’s true, but it’s eclipsed by the panic, the way he’s obviously trying to assuage your anger. Instead of just admitting it. Instead of asking for your forgiveness.

Not that you would at this point, even if he begged on his knees.

“I didn’t think you’d be here,” he winces and you sharply smile.

“What, you can, but I can’t? Besides, shouldn’t I be the one telling you that? There I was, wondering where my boyfriend was, someone without a job staying out so late without even a message,” you laugh, as though the entire matter is funny to you, but anyone can easily hear the mockery in your voice. “Then I find out he’s in a club, busy whoring himself out.”

He bristles at that, guilt fading into anger as he stands up. “I’m whoring myself out?”

“Well, what else would you call it? You certainly don’t have any money, after all, not even to afford partying at this club. Isn’t that right? Isn’t that why you ask me for money?” At that, you turn to face his previously ignored companion. Seeing the surprise and growing disgust against your soon-to-be-ex, you ask her gently. It’s all too obvious she didn’t know, after all. And as angry as you are, you won’t blame her for something that’s not her fault.

“Miss, dare I ask, did he have you pay for the drinks?”

She startles, but answers you steadily after a moment. “No, not at the start… but he did insist we pay for our own drinks, and then later on, he told me he left his wallet at home…” Realization colors her features as he reddens in embarrassment and anger. “That asshole, I must have spent more than a hundred dollars by now!”

“Tsk, tsk,” you mockingly shake your head at him, a part of you roaring at the highly humiliated look on his face. Just a glance downwards, and you can see how his fists are clenched, perhaps as tight as yours, veins already bulging out. Just a little more, and you could get him to explode. “Here I was, all but raising you, looking after you and feeding you, taking care of you, and you can’t even learn to have basic decency. Maybe I should feel ashamed, after all… more than being a couple in a relationship, our relationship turned more like mother and son, didn’t it?”

At the very end of your words, you raise your head, laughing. Jihyuk’s face colors to the point that it’s almost violet, and you feel vindictive satisfaction fill you.

“Y/N, you bitch!”

“What,” you scoff. “Did I say something wrong?”

If glares could kill, Jihyuk’s would have long gutted you, but it doesn’t, so you continue to hold your head high, smiling nonchalantly.

His next words make you hiss.

“If you weren’t always so busy, I wouldn’t have to look for someone else. When you came home, you never want to have sex with me, so why is it my fault if I look for someone else, huh!?”

You feel the flames inside you consume you even further, raging inside you and there’s nothing you can do to help relieve yourself of it. Before you know it, you’re stepping forward, arms being raised-

All you want is to make him hurt, like he did you, even if it’s only a fraction of what he’s made you feel. That motherfucker, daring to place the blame on you!?

Hell no.

Hitting him all that matters at the moment- that’s all that runs through your head- but then you suddenly find yourself unable to move, restrained. When you look back, you see Soojin’s face, twisted in worry.

“Soojin, please, let me go!” You hiss furiously, struggling in her hold, trying to get away. Yet, to her credit, Soojin keeps a tight hold on you, not letting you take another step forward. “Are you seriously stopping me from hitting him!? Are you taking his side!?” You ask her in disbelief, even if you know it’s not like that.

“Y/N, I’m not!” Immediately she shakes her head, yet she doesn’t let you go. “But you know you can’t start this here, you-” she bites down on her red lip, shaking her head. “You can’t. Please, you know he’s crazy, what if he hurts you!”

It doesn’t matter, I’m already hurt where it matters most anyway! You want to shout at her, but then you change your mind, glaring at the man you were once stupid enough to call yours.

“If I was ever busy, or tired, I hope you realize that it was always for you! And if I didn’t want to have sex, what did that have to do with you cheating!? Do promises mean nothing to you!? I never asked you for anything more than you being faithful to me, even when you kept asking me for money, even when you lived free at my house, even when you made me into your personal bank and caretaker! You asshole, motherfucker, I hope you rot in hell where cheaters like you belong!”

“Shut up!” He yells back at you, beginning to step forward, and Soojin is dragging you away- but you hold your ground. Let him come, if he wants-

“Shut up!? How can I when I’m not even done yelling about what you did! What, are you ashamed now!?” Only a step away. “How can there be someone as stupid as you who dares to cheat but can’t admit they did!?” His hand raised, curled into a fist. “Not only that, you just took advantage of me because I loved you! You no good, lying, coward-”

You see his punch descending down on you now, yet still you stubbornly look up at him, gritting your teeth. You won’t say sorry, if he wants to punch you, then let him punch you.

Yet still, at the last second, your eyes shut by themselves. You’re angry, yes, you’re furious, but it doesn’t take away the fact that you’re well aware Jihyuk’s stronger, and you’ve never been punched before-

A second passes. You feel nothing. Not the feel of his hand against your face, not the harsh, stinging pain that’d come with it, not the screams of Soojin as she cried.

Two seconds pass. Time is a mere fraction of what it used to be, and yet it’s slowly returning to you as you open your eyes, realizing you were seemingly waiting for nothing at all.

Three seconds pass. Your eyes land on the stranger holding Jihyuk’s wrist with a strong grip, brows furrowed with an intimidating scowl on his face. You step back out of fear.

“I assume, when you came in, you knew the rules of this bar,” the stranger says, voice low, a certain weight behind his every word. “No starting fights. What makes you think you’re an exception to that?”

“Let me go!” Jihyuk hisses, struggling to free his arm from the stranger, yet the other just easily holds him back. “Fuck, you heard what that bitch said about me!?”

“You mean, your ex?” The stranger sighs. “I don’t know if you’re just as stupid as she said you were, if you don’t realize that it’s your fault-”

Whatever he says next, you don’t hear, as you take this advantage to step forward-

-and slap Jihyuk as hard you can.

Your palms immediately sting, but you can’t be bothered to care about that, not when you see the bright red imprint left behind on his face, and the stunned look on his face. Grinning viciously, you hiss at him.

“That’s just a part of the pain you owe me, but considering you’re too dumb to understand something as simple as respect, I’ll just take this as payment.”

“From now on, I want you to fuck off and never appear in front of me again.”

The ringing silence that follows makes you feel like you can finally breathe again.

“... Satisfied?” The unknown man raises a brow at you- and your heart skips a beat for the first time in a while as you swallow, finally calming down a little... It’s loud, crashing, dizzying all at once but you nod at him. Your hands are trembling. You’re about ready to cry but still.

The rest of the words your now ex screams out blur out into the background as Soojin thanks the stranger, leading you away.

The rest of the events happen in what feels to be a flashback you get as you’re taking a sip of beer from the cup leisurely.

The stranger, Jungkook, he had told you his name, was told by your best friend about the problem. He called security, but came first to mediate just in case. After that, he let them take care of Jihyuk. The crowd around you dispersed upon finding out that the scene you had created was over, and Soojin went home after giving you the tightest hug someone had given you in a while now.

Though she tried to persuade you to go home too, you were in obviously no mood to go home- where every inch of the walls was filled with the presence of your- your ex.

It was only after a lot of convincing and reassuring her that you were safe with Jungkook did she leave, her own baby calling for her.

And you stayed at the bar, quietly watching Jungkook work.

During that time, you find out that he’s, overall, a nice guy. He has a cute smile that shows off his teeth perfectly, dark hair that you could imagine him brushing through with his hand, and the cutest, biggest eyes you’ve seen, like a deer caught in the headlights. Adorable.

What surprises you is that he works as a bartender at this place. Which does make sense now that you think about it. But between your dunk mind and slurred words, every little piece of logic is thrown aside.

He had asked if you wanted him to walk you home. You being… well, you, denied almost immediately. Tonight seemed like a good night to get wasted, after all.

“Whatever you say… but you do have the keys to your apartment, right?” the dark-haired man asks, face resting on his hand. He blinks at you under the bright lights of the bar, staring as you take another sip of the alcohol. “Just so your ex doesn’t get in?”

“Of course, I locked it too,” you roll your eyes slightly, glare set on the table below you as you seethe, remembering him. “He’s probably gonna stay at some friend’s place for the night, the jerk. I hope he does, all his friends live miles away. I took the car keys so he can’t drive either, only either walk or take a cab. And considering he barely has any money left...”

You smirk.

A fleeting smile touches on Jungkook’s face as he regards you with awe. “Huh. I guess you put more to your plan than just charging in and breaking up with him, huh?”

“I’m heartbroken, not stupid. It’s an emotional stupidity, not a mental one.”

You huff, once again laying your head back on the cool glass of the table. Fuck, you’re tired. Not just emotionally, but also physically. The night’s events leave you wanting nothing but to stay and drink your sorrows away, uncaring in which bed you’ll be waking up tomorrow.

After all, it’s not like you’ve been to any besides your own for the past few months. Maybe that will bring you some variety at least. The thought makes you laugh bitterly, and in turn down another glass of alcohol.

You hear someone sigh beside you.

“...Right,” he mutters in response, eyes widening shortly after you take another huge gulp of your drink. You suppose, if anything, Jungkook knows how to make delicious drinks. “Don’t drink too much, Y/N, you’re already-” you watch with droopy eyes as he reaches out to you, your head only propped up by your elbow, before stopping with a sigh. “You’re already drunk.”

Ignoring him momentarily, you finish your drink, savoring the taste.

“Sh-shhhuddap,” you slur, the end of your words becoming a sigh. You set the cup aside, only for your head to plop back onto the bar table, a deep breath making your chest rise up- then down. Jungkook frowns at your small figure laying over the bar, the frown forming into a quiet pout.

“Let me… lemme just drink a little bit more, m-m’kay? ’ll jus…jus’ drink ‘nough to not f-feel...”

Whatever words you’re about to say dissolve into incoherent mumblings as you yawn, feeling the effects of numerous glasses of alcohol finally taking their toll on you.

“‘Night, Kook...”

When you wake up, your surroundings are awfully quiet, awfully dark. That is, until you rub your eyes and can see straight. Jungkook’s body comes into view, hand shaking you awake. His low whispers are barely addressed by your ears, and you numb them out until he kneels down to meet eye to eye with you.

Then a sweet smile plays on his lips, and wow.

For a moment, you wonder if this is what heaven feels like.

Then he flicks your forehead, and you’re hurtled back to earth.

“Good, you’re finally awake,” he remarks, smile turning wry on his face. You pout in response, getting up. Your head hurts, it hurts bad, and there seems to be nothing you can do about it as you lean over the bar for support.

“So… urgh, so tired… feeling sick,” you utter beneath your breath, sighing when you realize Jungkook heard it.

“Why’d you even get wasted then? You’ll have to deal with it now,” he frowns, patting your back.

“You don’t get it, dumbass. I’m trying not to remember my ex?” you cross your arms, eyes wandering the place.

The club’s a lot less crowded now, barely any people left except for the ones who are cleaning it up. The music is quieter, playing softly in the background as you turn to Jungkook. Closing time already, you guess.

“... sorry,” you finally say, feeling remorse make space in your heart. “I don’t mean to be so crabby, but fuck, I just feel-” You scrunch up your nose as you try to mull over what you say next. “Actually, I don’t even know what I’m feeling. Except- what the fuck was I thinking, letting it go on for so long?”

Jungkook hums, shrugging. “Everybody makes mistakes, everybody has their own stupid moments. I completely understand.”

“Yeah, and mine lasted for god knows how many years,” you grumble.

For a moment he pauses, and you watch him put away bottles.

“You know, you fell asleep quickly earlier,” he suddenly mentions, making you flush. Ah. Right.

“Oh… yeah, I’m sorry about that,” you sigh. “I must’ve caused you a lot of trouble, having to look after me while you’re also busy with your work.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he shakes his head. “You just broke up with your boyfriend of how many years again?”

“Besides,” he continues, smiling. “If anything, your performance earlier more than made up for it. His face when you slapped him was hilarious.”

That startles a laugh out of you. “It was, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “... You looked amazing then too.”

“Thanks. … to be honest, just a single slap wasn’t enough, so I definitely had to make it count,” you say, scoffing at the end.

“Yeah, I figured,” the hint of laughter in his voice makes even you smile. “You didn’t yell at him enough, huh?”

“Nope,” you emphatically shake your head. “Which is a shame, because let me tell you- I have a whole speech in my head for him and his douche-assery. I didn’t even touch on the other major fuck ups he did!”

At that, he really does laugh, and you can’t help grinning yourself. “No, I mean it! I was hyping myself up all evening, but then when I actually saw him, my head blanked and- damn it, I should have let him have it even more in front of all those people,” you dramatically groan.

A smile forms on Jungkook’s face, even his eyes curved into a pair of crescent moons and somehow, it makes you somehow feel better just by looking at it.

“Well, there’s only the two of us left inside now, but if you want, I’ll listen to your speech,” he nonchalantly states.

“What, really?”

“Really.” He takes a deep breath, turning your body around so you completely face him. “C’mon, shout at me. Vent. I’m the bartender, I’ll listen. Besides, I’m curious to hear how terrible this guy was that you went so far to set him up.”

Reluctantly listening to the alcohol, you sigh before you start listing off all the reasons for why you’ve never felt okay with your relationship with Jihyuk. Jungkook hums and nods along in all the right pauses, quietly telling you to continue.

“... and not just that, he never came home when I needed him most, ghosted me on dates, forgot our anniversary two years in a row, made me break off friendships, never once paid for his own food, never made me cum even once. Like, what a dick!? And I mean the bad kind, not the good one-”

“Wait wait wait…” Jungkook raises a brow, stopping you. “He- He never… made you cum? Not even once?” He stares at you in bewilderment, shaking his head with a smile of disbelief. “He must’ve really had it good,” he crosses his arms.

“I know, right,” you moan. “What was past me thinking? At this point, I don’t think any man will ever treat me right.”

The man shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe the next one will.”

You feel the urge to laugh at the ridiculous statement, though you hold it back. “You’re kidding, right? I’m never getting a boyfriend ever again,” you huff, shaking your head in disapproval. “Boys, pfft- no, thank you.”

Jungkook only turns his back to you in response, walking to the stools of the bar. He huffs loudly as he sits back down, and you can barely contain your laughter before it bursts out of you, ringing loud in the club. Nudging him by the arm to get his attention, you try your best to turn him around, but when he doesn’t, you move to sit next to him instead, on the bartop. The cool glass makes you initially shiver, but you don’t let it show.

“Did you say something?” You grin as you look at him, at the way he rolls his eyes just a little. “I know I heard you say something.”

“It was nothing,” he scoffs.

“Come on,” you cajole him. “You listened to me earlier and let me rant. I’m not going to laugh or be snarky, I swear.”

A moment passes, while you wait for him to speak up. At this point, the silence of the bar is comfortable, though while you look around, you see that no one else is left inside but the two of you.

“...-y’know?”

You look back at him. “Hm?”

“I think it’s just a little sad to declare that every guy out there is hopeless, because of one jerk,” he repeats, back turned to you as he fiddles with the display case.

You lean back on the bartop. “I guess so,” you say. “But it’s true that it’s disillusioning. I used to have high expectations when the relationship started, you know- but now that I ended it, it’s like- what happened? When did my expectations get so low? I deserve better, you know?”

“But it didn’t seem that way to me then. He seemed so great, so amazing… and now here we are. It scares me a little to think that I might fall for someone, only to find out how much of a jerk they are years down the road.”

“But you’ve got to try again, don’t you?” He softly says. “After all, you said it yourself. You deserve better.”

At that, he finally faces you - before glancing down and turning away just as quickly.

“Eventually, though,” he clarifies, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I’m not saying you should right now. Just that you shouldn’t give up on love.”

You chuckle softly. “Alright, alright, I get it.”

Quiet fills the room again, a comfortable one. You watch Jungkook clean the last of the bar, wiping the surfaces and glasses.

And as you do, you can’t help but think of something a little too inappropriate.

‘I wonder how it’d feel to ride him.’

Okay, maybe it’s absolutely inappropriate. But it’s not your fault, you tell yourself. Not when Jungkook looks that good. Clad in a neat outfit with a silk black vest and a cute bow tie around his neck, he seemed as though he was a five star meal- and you feel yourself starving.

It really doesn’t help that you haven’t had sex in months, nor have you orgasmed in that time. You need release, one way or another.

Still, it’s bad form to ask him, this kind bartender who literally was just consoling you moments ago from a nasty break up if he wants to fuck, so you try to keep the thought down, but-

You extend your leg, toes barely brushing against his back, watching as he shudders at your touch.

Oh?

You bite your lips to stop yourself from grinning.

“Hey Jungkook… why aren’t you facing me?” “I-I need to clean up the bar,” he huffs, but you hear the slight stammer in his voice, and oh, does it make you feel even bolder.

“Yeah,” you nonchalantly respond, “but you’d think you could at least try to appear like you’re listening to me, especially when we were having such a good chat.”

“You-” He stops, sighing, and you goad him even further, slowly feeling more sure the longer he hesitates.When he turns around- finally- you laugh as you slide your arms to rest on his shoulders, trapping him in front of you.

Furthermore, you cross your legs, a daring smirk on your face as you lean forward and over him close, close enough that as you look down at him, the tip of your noses brush against each other. The slight tremors that you elicit out of him at this close range doesn’t escape your notice, and you feel a rush of giddiness fill you up.

“You know, you were so insistent earlier, when we talked about what I deserved. But considering my past experiences, that feels a little hard to believe… do you think you can convince me otherwise?” You hum, fluttering your eyelashes at him. To his credit, Jungkook stills for only a moment, onyx eyes staring straight back at you. As if to ask permission, as if to wait for your next move. But you only continue to smile, letting him know you want this, asking him if he wants it.

Just as you think he’ll pull away, he only answers you back with a smirk of his own- and then, you can’t help but be entranced by the sudden, daring gleam in his eyes. Just as your arms are perched on his shoulders, you feel fingers gently trace over the edges of your lips.

“Why don’t you find out?”

You wouldn’t, normally. One night stands aren’t your thing. You rarely give your heart away, and even more your body.

But tonight, staring at the man in front of you, the challenge and interest visible in his eyes, you find yourself wanting to do otherwise.

Maybe I will, you think.

And then you dip down to kiss him.

Immediately, you can taste the hint of mint on his lips, the sweet aftertaste of what seems to be banana milk- it’s strange and surprising, not exactly what you’d think a bartender would taste like. It isn’t something you’ve tasted on someone else before either, but as his tongue glides over your lips, silently asking for permission, you find yourself coming to like the flavor. Especially when he kisses you hard enough to make you feel like you’re drowning.

You whimper in pleasure when you suddenly feel him press his bulge against your core for one moment, breaking the kiss only to groan again as he repeats the gesture, grinding your lower bodies together. You can only hold on to his back as tight as you can, feeling the rising tides of lust slowly pull you under its current. A breathless moan leaves you, echoing loudly in the quiet of the empty bar.

“Got something to say, sweetheart?” Jungkook coos, and the words are soon accompanied by a sharp pain on your neck, something that makes the pleasure taste all the more sweeter in comparison. That doesn’t even take into account his hands, which you now notice to be gliding over your stomach, stopping under your breasts as he fondles them and makes you arch back in pleasure for a moment.

“God, just continue doing that,” You whine out and he pauses to laugh, smirk turning into something softer, but just as wild. “Jungkook,” he corrects you, flicking your nipple and you flinch as a sharp wave of pleasure rushes over you. “Don’t call out anybody else’s name but mine, or I’ll punish you.”

‘How can I think about anybody else when you’re making me feel so good right now?’ You almost tell him that, you want to tell him that, but as Jungkook switches his attention from your collarbones to your breasts, tongue lavishing over each mound equally, you find your thoughts slipping away from you.

You don’t even register that you’re being pushed to lie back until the cold glass makes you jerk - and Jungkook firmly keeps you pinned down, another moan leaving you as you feel his fingers probe against your core. You feel him place butterfly kisses down your legs, the touch light yet the effects tremendous on you as you shiver and tremble from each one.

“We barely started and you’re already this wet, huh,” he grins as he slides a finger up your panty, where your slit would be. Juice already coats his finger well, and even though he only teases you against your panties, you find that you’re sensitive, too sensitive not to feel even more turned on by such a small gesture. “Or were you already wet earlier? What a naughty girl.”

“Fffffuck,” you groan, thrusting against his fingers so that they rub against you harder. “Just slip it in already,” you whimper. “Don’t be a fucking tease.”

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Jungkook purrs as he flicks your nub, making you clench hard at the frustration and anticipation. It infuriates you even more when you feel his fingers leave your skirt, and he leans away a little. You can clearly see the smirk on his face again, amusement swimming with lust in his eyes. “You weren’t being so nice earlier either. Maybe if you were a good girl, I’d listen.”

At that, you pull yourself up, coming closer to him until you bite his shoulder, leaving marks over his neck as well as you can under the raging pleasure. “Or you can listen now, before I make you regret it.” You roll your hips against his, relishing in the quiet groan that leaves him as the delicious friction threatens to drown you both in pleasure.

Honestly, in the face of Jungkook’s ministrations, you find it’s all too easy to let yourself loose, to want more.

You’re surprised when he bends, pushing you back down - and the flash of pain and pleasure on the inner part of your thighs makes you hiss.

“What are you doing?”Jungkook’s answer is light, but the cocky tone is all too evident anyway. “Didn’t you challenge me to make you cum?” Another hickey blooms on your thighs and you whimper as he leaves a trail of them on his way down. “So I’ve made it my mission to make you cum as much as I can tonight.” You feel his nose nudge your panty and you can’t help groaning in anticipation. “Starting with eating you out.”

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“A-Ah, I’ve never been eaten out before,” you stammer, heart beating fast as you can clearly feel his hair brush against your skin. Lust, excitement, and yet also nerves envelop you then.

For some reason, you can’t help but feel a little self conscious. No one, not even your past boyfriends have done this, after all.

Still, Jungkook only chuckles. “How mean. There I was, making you drinks the whole night, but you won’t even let me have a taste of you now that I’m thirsty.” You can’t see him over the skirt you’re wearing- why, again, are you still wearing it- but you can imagine the chiding smile, the mischief in his eyes. Especially when you feel him blow on you down there, making you shudder.

“Look, you’re even overflowing. Bet you’d taste sweeter and better than any wine here.”

With that, your skirt is taken off, and you gasp as you suddenly taste something on your lips. Yet that isn’t the end of it as for some reason, you suck on his fingers, imagining it to be his cock.

Fuck, you taste good.

Just as that thought reaches you, you think- you want to taste him too.

“Can I, sweetheart?” He asks you again. “I’ll make you feel good.” There’s a chuckle in his words, but before he can say anything more, you tug him up.“Wanna taste you too,” you admit, before blushing. Still, you continue. “So get up here.”

“On the bar top? Kinky,” he grins, but follows your instructions. Moving so that your whole body is laid down on the bartop, you hiss as the cool temperature of the glass makes itself known to your thighs. Not for long though- as the warmth of Jungkook’s body envelops you moments later.

In this position, Jungkook’s crotch faces you, and you find your mouth watering over it. Eager hands cup it for a moment, before you pull down the zipper and admire his member.

God, even his dick is pretty.

Long and veined, what it lacked in girth, the slight curve certainly made up for it. You immediately took it into your mouth, moaning around it when you felt him move your panties to the side and immediately dived in.

On Jungkook’s side - he loves it, every single second of it. He loves how he can make you a mess, how he can wreck you, you bucking up your hips to meet him as you suck and moan around his dick. There is something about you that he couldn’t help but be attracted to. He can’t believe your ex had cheated on you. Just from that moment in which you confronted your ex, he could sense that you were far, far more better than any girl he had ever seen.

Moans and whimpers filled the room as you tremble under Jungkook. Every lap of his tongue, sucking on your nub- hell, just the way he moves his tongue inside your walls is enough to make you push your thighs together.

The pleasure inside you only rises higher and higher, making you continuously grind your hips against his face. True, it’s the first time someone’s eaten you out, but all the same you know you wouldn’t cum just from it if the other person wasn’t good enough.

Jungkook aims to go beyond your expectations it seems. In response, you take him in even deeper, slightly gagging on his dick. One hand reaches out to fondle his balls, rolling them over your hand. Soft, pliant in your hold. You squeeze them slightly, and a sense of accomplishment fills you as you feel him physically stutter, thrusting his dick deeper into you. Jungkook is obviously way more experienced though, or perhaps it’s a sense of competitiveness that’s driving him to make sure you come first, because as you feel something inside you continue to tighten - you pant, recognizing the signs of an impending orgasm. A distant part of you is amazed you could reach an orgasm so quickly - the other is very, very pleased.

“I’m... so close,” you say through uneven breaths, chasing your high. His tongue works at an even faster pace, making you cry out in pleasure. Your walls tighten around his finger, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel it. “Then come for me, sweetheart,” you hear him say.

And that does it.

White warmth, inside and out. Your lower body jerks against him, but Jungkook only rides out your orgasm with you, lapping up the juices that gush from you, the messy sounds of slurping and sucking turning you on even more, if that’s possible. You feel feverish, your oversensitive clit being given a little too much attention. What more, the feeling of your body contrasting against the cold surface of the bartop, shivering a little when his finger traces the curves of your body as you continue to feel the last trembles from your orgasm.When

he finally leans back, Jungkook smiles at the glistening digit and licks his fingers clean. You taste even better than he thought. Truly, you’re an angel. Just as he prepares to get off of you, you give one good suck to his dick, making him jerk. For you, you can feel his hard member twitch in your mouth - and it doesn’t take much to figure out that Jungkook himself is close to release. Still, as he lets out a quiet groan, he moves away. You make to protest, but-

The way he quickly moves on top of you, fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt and grinding his member against your core makes you moan, long and loud.

“I don’t wanna cum just yet,” his voice is distinctively lower now, and something heady rushes through you at the realization that you did that. He hisses when you experimentally roll your hips back against him.

Hunger like you’ve never known spreads across you like a wildfire. You want all of what Jungkook has to offer.

“You ready, sweetheart?” He cooes. “You’ll have to be quiet if I put it in, don’t want anyone else hearing how beautiful you sound when I’m fucking you thoroughly.”

Instead of answering, you meet him up in an eager kiss, your hands spreading across his chest - God, you don’t know when he unbuttoned his shirt, but you’re definitely thankful he did. Otherwise, how could you so clearly feel the muscles on his smooth skin?

And then you feel him enter you and fuck.

If what you felt before was something new, then this was definitely out of this world.

Jungkook’s dick fills you up just perfect, the wetness of your vagina and the slick on his dick makes the slide inside so much smoother, and both of you sigh in pleasure. For a moment, you’re both content to lie like that, just basking in the feeling of being connected to each other.

He himself doesn’t know how to explain it, how you differ from others. Everything you do somehow seems to draw him in, and in this moment- he feels like he could just stay like that forever and be content.

You, on the other hand, feel different.

“Jungkook, please, move already,” you eventually plead. Your body arches up as he pulls out for a moment, before beginning to thrust his hips into you at a fast rate, clearly giving you no mercy. Fuck, how in the hells did you ever think any previous sex you had could compare with this?

It’s easy to lose all coherence in this moment, the overwhelming feeling of bliss making you think of nothing but Jungkook’s dick, and the way he drags it against your walls, teasing you before slamming it inside, drawing out the pleasure and then drowning you in it.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh resounds in the empty room, alongside your mixed groans and whimpers. Jungkook spares you no mercy, and you soon find yourself hurtling towards another orgasm, this one even more intense than the last. It doesn’t help that you feel him leave hickeys over your chest, biting and then soothing them afterwards, sliding his tongue over them. Tears prick your eyes as the pain and the pleasure mix together, making each feeling all the more intense to you.

Fuck, where had he been all your life? You’ve never felt so good in sex- not like this, not with your previous encounters. But right here and right now, you swear that if there’s a god, then Jungkook must have been his favorite, and you were blessed to have been touched by him.

“J-Jungkook, I-I’m coming again-!” Rather than slow down, it seems your words just urge him to fuck you harder, faster, making you sob as another wave of pleasure threatens to drown you under.

“Then come all you want,” he growls, dragging you into a fierce kiss, wanting to taste you- but also to silence you.

“A-Ah!” You scream out, panting, as you ride another wave of orgasm-

The harsh smack on your bottom makes you jerk off the table with a sob. Jungkook hisses as he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty- but not for too long, as you’re turned over, and he shoves his cock back inside your hole. You moan, long and loud in pleasure, before you feel another smack on your bottom.

“What part of ‘keep quiet’ didn’t you understand?” He reprimands you sternly, each word accentuated by a hit on your bottom that makes you jerk, each time. “I told you to be quiet, or we’d both get in trouble. There’s still the club’s bodyguard standing outside. If he heard us, how much do you want to bet he’d come in and see your pretty little body all laid out under me, huh?”

“I-” You try to explain, but end up heaving deep breaths instead as he thrusts his hips particularly hard, leaving you a whimpering mess as you drop your head onto the table again, the ache at the back of our head barely being addressed by your numb mind.

“You what?” He growls, hands snaking forward to pull your head back with your hair- making you groan as he lowers himself right next to your ear. “You what, Y/N? Got nothing to say right now?”

He tsks. “Or maybe him seeing you is what you want. How many hours has it been since we just met, and how you’re gladly taking up my cock in your cunt right now? I guess you’re nothing but a slut.”

“I-I,” You try again, but all that remains in your head is him calling you a slut. The humiliation it draws from you, reddening your cheeks, somehow only serves to make you feel even more aroused. You can’t think of anything else, but how to just push yourself back into Jungkook’s dick because clearly, he is drawing it out and depriving you of what you need!

“What are you, Y/N?” his voice is hoarse as he asks, his dark hair a mess that covers his beautiful face. “...Wanting others to see you looking so pretty for me,” the knot in your stomach tightens as you try to think of a reply, yet nothing comes. Fuck fuck fuck.

“I don’t, I-” you stop. You can’t, you just can’t, if you don’t get what you want right now, you might as well die.

“Disappointing,” he clicks his tongue dismissively, and you feel your eyes burn out of desperation. “And here I thought you’d be good for me?”

“I’m sssssorrryyyy!” You whine out when he won’t let you off, the tears falling down your face now. “I’m a slut! A fucking slut! Your slut,” you cry out. “P-Please, put it back innn!”

“Mm, I still don’t know,” he drawls. “I already warned you to be good earlier, but you just kept on pushing me. And now you clearly disobeyed me. Only good girls, not sluts, get rewards, don’t you think?”

“I’m s-sorry,” you repeat, whimpering. “Please, I can be good, so please-!”

Hands rub your bottom, a slight sting reminding you that he’d already hit you there earlier. Yet somehow all it did was make you even more sensitive to not just the pain, but also heightening the pleasure you felt.

“If you take your punishment obediently, I might let you off,” he suddenly offers. Jungkook’s voice has become sweet again, soft and sticky and coaxing. Not that you need it though, considering he has you in his palms either way.

Not to mention that the thought of the punishment at hand makes your core throb.

You bite your lips, hoping that he doesn’t see how flushed you are. You don’t doubt that you’re dripping down so much on the glass bartop that at this point, that there must be a puddle right below your cunt. But at the thought of what he’s about to do, you feel yourself secreting even more. “Oh?” He chuckles, dragging a finger along your clit. At this point your labia are puffed up, swollen with Jungkook’s relentless attacks on it, but still it doesn’t hide how aroused you are at this moment. All it is is overly sensitive, and still asking for more.

“Seems to me that you like that, huh? I guess I was right. Being good doesn’t suit you at all, slut,” he tsks. “You just wanted to get punished.”

“I-I can take it,” you meekly tell him, shaking your ass a little. At the sight, Jungkook smirks wickedly. “Alright then. I want you to count each strike, sweetheart. And if you lose count, we’ll be starting all over again. … Do you understand that?”

Near the end, you hear Jungkook’s tone soften, and it’s all too easy to hear the way out he’s offering you. You want it, though. “H-How many?”

He pauses, before continuing. “How many do you think you deserve?”

You swallow loudly. “I… I don’t know.” You bite your lips. “I’ve, uh- I’ve never been spanked like this before.”

You feel embarrassment course through your veins for a moment as Jungkook freezes, and you wonder if you should’ve just said a random number-

But then the loud smack of a hand against your ass rings out loud in the room, and you jerk wildly against the bartop, a silent scream in your throat.“Until I say stop, then. That was one already,” Jungkook purrs.

You whimper, but nod along as he starts.

Smack!

“Two!”

Smack!

“T-Three!”!

Smack!

“F-Four,” you whimper.

At each hit of his hand against your ass, you can’t help moaning, louder with each one. Jungkook’s hands are swift, and absolute- no mercy left for you, only his feather-light gentle caresses after each hit making you weep.

At the eight count, you’re absolutely gone, panting, a mess of tears and pain and pleasure and overall just too fucking sensitive. But the sheer amount of thrill and joy that settles in you as Jungkook finally stops is just short of euphoria, and you look up at him, your eyes pleading for his praise and reassurance.

Sure enough, Jungkook doesn’t disappoint.

He slides you off the counter and into his arms, your legs crossed around his, into a long, sweet kiss, swallowing up the sounds that leave your lips, the little whimpers and groans.

“You took your punishment so well,” he compliments you as he pulls back, making you preen. “I suppose you deserve a reward then, don’t you?”

“P-Please,” you plead, rutting your core against his erect cock. It slides against your core all too easily, making you groan. Still, you don’t dare put it inside, waiting for Jungkook’s permission first.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he grins, and-

Jungkook’s kiss swallows up the scream that leaves you as he thrusts back into your hole in one smooth movement, bringing you back into that land of sheer pleasure and lust.

In this position, held up in the air only by his arms, you keenly feel every movement of his cock inside you as he bounces you, forcing you to go up and down repeatedly. You’re almost delirious, your hands no doubt leaving scratch marks on his body as you hold him as tight as you can, feeling everything just too much.

It doesn’t take more than a minute or two to bring you to your third orgasm. It seems that Jungkook himself senses that as well, because the moment you feel it coming, he speeds up his thrusts again, making you scream.

“J-Jungkook!!” You wail out his name as one final jerk of his hips brings you crashing down, bliss enveloping you fully as you almost white out, spasming and losing control of your body for a moment.

When you come to, a second later, you feel him desperately moving in you, but the stuttered way he does so tells you all you need to know.

“W-Where should I cum?” He grits the words out his teeth, and you hiss in pleasure, in over-sensitivity and pain as his member remains inside of you even after you’ve orgasmed for the third time. You’re determined to get him to come as well though, something warm blazing in your chest. You don’t owe favors, and you won’t anymore, so maybe that’s the reason why.

For whatever reason it truly is, though, you tell him with a steady voice. “Just come inside me,” you give him permission. Jungkook groans at that, looking straight at you, as if to ask, are you sure?

You nod, drawing him into a sweet kiss. There’s nothing but elation inside you at this moment.

When you squeeze his member inside your cunt, you moan as you feel him paint your walls white, something hot and warm and sticky filling up your cunt. If your nails didn’t leave marks before, well, they had to by now.

It’s only when you feel it drip out of you that you finally pull back from the kiss.The both of you are panting, visibly exhausted, though you’re pretty sure Jungkook can still run a lap around the club, while you’re all ready to collapse on the floor. Fuck, where does he get all that stamina from?

“I work out at the gym.” The amusement visible in his eyes as he answers you tells you that you probably spoke out loud. Sheesh.

“Yeah, you were.” Jungkook’s chuckle brings your attention back to him, and you blush for the first time since a while now, burying your head in the crook of his shoulder. Honestly, if you tried to move right now, you don’t doubt you’d just lay down on the floor, so you opt to remain in his hold.

That decision definitely wasn’t influenced by how secure you felt in his arms, or how good he smelt, even after you both just had sex.

His chuckles turn into laughter- and you’re only dimly aware of it as he sets you down on a nearby sofa, grabbing a washcloth nearby to start wiping you off.

When you look down at him again- it’s as if he’s seamlessly switched back to the adorable guy you met earlier. Huge, doe eyes and bunny smile on display as he grins happily.

It’s then that you hear the door to the bar being clicked open, and you’re thrown back into reality.

“If you’re done fucking on top of the bar, I think it’d be good if we officially wrap things up around here,” you see a blond man barge through, wearing a poker face despite the words that make even more heat rise up to your cheeks. The connotations of the sentence… you’ll ignore that.

“And I think that included your dick, but okay,” he eyes Jungkook warily. He looks at you for a brief moment, before clicking on his tongue as he shakes his head.

“Anyway, out of this place, both of you, before Seokjin-hyung threatens to kill me again for not being a good enough caretaker.”

“And what exactly were you doing while we were… in here, Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook raises a brow out of suspicion.

“Sleeping. Now hurry up.”

Peals of laughter escape Jungkook, even as both your cheeks redden at being caught.

“Alright, alright,” Jungkook reassures him, before turning back to you. “Let me just finish up cleaning that mess, and we’ll get you home for real,” he tells you softly. Placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he lays you down to rest.

“Take a quick nap in the meantime, okay?”

Giggling under the blanket of the dark night, you run under the bright stars as the stars reign the heavens above your heads. With Jungkook hand in hand, you experience freedom like you’ve never felt before.

The gentle breeze of the cold wind at 2 am, in perfect contract to the feel of his warm hand enveloping yours is the sweetest sensation, one of accepting, letting go and moving forward.

You swear you’ve never laughed like you do when you dash through the abandoned streets of neighborhoods too hazy for you to remember in detail. His laugh rings in your ears like the song of an angel, a far cry from your own booming one that he still loves all the same. It’s beautiful, quiet, made for you two alone.

Reaching your apartment, Jungkook helps you into your adorable dragon onesie before tucking you into bed, the softest smile on his face. It hurts a little to leave you so quick, he wants to stay, he wants to spend the night beside you, but for tonight… maybe all that you have done so far is enough.

Maybe once morning arrives, the sunrise announces his fall. Maybe you won’t even remember him.

Thinking so, his trembling hand reaches out to cup your cheek.

Then he stops.

Goodnight, Y/N.

Morning comes. You groggily roll out of bed, heading straight for the kitchen to get yourself a cup of water. Your head is in shambles, too filled to think of anything more, too empty to think of anything less than the sticky note your eyes land on.

It’s stuck to the microwave that’s sitting on the counter, a stupidly lovable green note. Taking careful steps towards it, you peel it off to read what’s written, eyes widening a little.

‘here’s my number! call if you want :D

I also left some hangovers in here.

make sure to eat them and stay safe~

hope to hear from you. xx JK.’

Your heart flutters in excitement and love for the note as you pull it close, hugging it as much as one could a sticky note. You smile softly, hand tracing the curves of the writing, the action all too sweet and unexpected. Running to get your phone that must be somewhere around here, you start to jump around in the search for it out of nervous elation.

There’s so much more you want to do with Jungkook, but - you just can’t wait to hear his gorgeous laugh again.

#bangtanhq #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts smut #jungkook angst #bts x you #jungkook x you #fic: la luxure

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Our song - Harry Styles

this one was inspired by the jingleball performance bc it was pure perfection and UGHH im obsessed.

dedicated to my dear friend @dontworrysunflower

disclaimer: the song Homesick by Dua Lipa is featured in this fic as an original work of Harry and the reader, but it’s obviously an existing song, I just thought that it would be the song they write

pairing: Harry x vocalist!reader

word count: 5.3k

masterlist

You’ve felt the adrenaline rush take over your body many times in your life and they were all different in some kind of way. The one you felt when you were about to write an important test in school, the one that bubbled through your veins when you got your first kiss. The one that rolled through your limbs and chest when you first performed in front of people that weren’t your parents and the one you felt when you got the news that you were chosen to tour with none other than Harry Styles as his vocalist, singing on his stage every other night in a different city and different country.

But none of those were anything like the feeling that takes over every time you stand on that stage, your microphone that’s labelled with your name right in front of you as thousands of people are screaming in the jam-packed arena. Though it’s not you they come to see and listen to, but you are part of the magic and it’s quite enough for you.

You could never be the one standing at the front with all the lights shining down on your frame, having every gaze in the place glued to you, listening to your voice. That brings the kind of anxiety you’re quite sure you wouldn’t be able to handle. You are perfectly fine standing in the back, being the support system while staying on the down-low as someone else shines at the front, in your case, it’s Harry.

You applied for the job with a reason, already having a huge appreciation for him as an artist, adoring his work so far, especially Fine Line. Upon hearing about the opportunity to be part of his tour, you didn’t hesitate to send your application in and following three auditions, you got the phone call that they wanted you on board.

He swept you right off your feet the first time you met him, but you didn’t expect less from him. Everything you heard about him being the most wonderful person to every walk the planet were proven to be nothing but the truth. You hit it off so easily and become close through the process of rehearsals. His odd little jokes, that funny laugh of his and the way he always peeks over his shoulder to meet his eyes with yours made you fall for him faster than you’d have ever thought you could.

Just as fast as your feeling for Harry developed, tour caught up on you and before you could blink twice, you were living on the road, always dressing from your suitcase, waking up in a different city every other morning.

The foreign studio feels a little odd, but still somehow familiar as you walk in with your water and notebook under your arm. Random studio sessions with Harry became a regular not long after tour kicked off. Harry’s creative juices were overflowing and he was aching to record his creations, constantly renting random studios near the hotel you lot were staying currently and one night, when some of you all were hanging out in his suit, he asked if you’d be down helping him record vocals for a song he’s been working on.

“I want to hear it with your voice instead of mine,” he told you leaning against the wall, a glass of whatever Mitch mixed him in his hands.

“Getting bored of your own voice?” you teased him, bringing his dimples out with the smile that plastered across his lips.

“Could say that. Are you up for it?”

There was no way you would have said no. So the next morning you found yourself in a studio somewhere in Sacramento, singing the vocals to a song no one else has heard other than you and Harry.

The tour has now reached Denver, you can’t wait to be on the stage tonight, but before that, you are having another quick session with Harry in the studio.

When you walk in, his head perks up from his leather notebook he always keeps on himself, filled with his scribbled lyrics. A smile stretches across his lips when his green eyes fall on your frame.

“Hey! Hope it’s not too early for you,” he softly says standing up from the chair as you put your stuff down to the small table in the corner.

“No, managed to get a good night sleep still,” you smile at him, taking a quick look around, though this recording room is just like the others you’ve been in.

“I think I figured out that part we struggled with last time. Changed up the ending a bit, would you mind giving it another go?”

You nod looking down at his notes, seeing the changes he has made in the vocals.

“Changed anything else?” you ask as you watch him get ready for the recording.

“Yeah, rewrote a few lines, think they are fitting better now.”

“Have you recorded them yet?”

“Will do now,” he tells you shaking his head.

Soon enough you find yourself standing behind the mic, headset covering your ears as you are waiting for Harry to start recording and the music to play in your ears. Once he shows up his thumb you do the same and a moment later the song you’ve heard last time you two were working starts flowing from the headset and you stare down at the notes in front of you, waiting for the moment when you have to start singing.

It takes you a few runs to nail it down, but when you finally do, you can see the satisfied grin on Harry’s face and you think to yourself that there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to make him like this anytime.

“That was fantastic,” he beams once you join him at the screens where you see your voice appear as a pattern over a straight line. Harry does his usual magic before leaving it be. “Mind assisting recording my part?” he asks turning to you with an excited smile.

Nodding you let him tell you what to do and once he is all set behind the mic, you start the recording and the song. You listen to him in awe. There hasn’t been a moment when you didn’t feel the shiver running down your spine when he started singing. You are convinced a choir of angels is hidden in his throat, because it’s hard to believe he is just as human as everyone else.

He sings the whole song three times before he joins you again, listening back to what you have so far. The song is coming along pretty well and you can tell by the time he finishes it, it’s gonna be perfect. Everything he does is just pure perfection, whether he likes to admit it or not.

“You know how it would be absolutely perfect?” he asks you on your way back to the hotel. The two of you grabbed a coffee as well, so now you’re sipping on the hot drink, enjoying the somewhat sunny weather.

“Hm?”

“I think it would be best if a female voice sang the whole thing and the male was just the vocal.”

“Who do you think would fit best for it then?” you ask, immediately thinking of singers that could be perfect for the song. It wouldn’t be the first time Harry would sell a song to someone else, so you’re not surprised he is thinking about this kind of change.

“Y/N, I found the voice already,” he chuckles and you give him a puzzled look. “You. You are singing the song, I don’t need anyone else.”

“I’m not a solo singer,” you protest.

“There’s no such thing as solo or not solo. You’re a singer and a bloody good one. I want you to sing it.”

“But it would go to waste, because I would never actually perform it.”

“How are you so sure about that?” he smirks slyly at you, immediately making you nervous.

“Harry, I don’t sing solo,” you shake your head stubbornly, but he rolls his eyes at you.

“You could just try it. Let’s just record the song next time with you in the lead and then we can talk about the rest.”

“I’m fine recording, but I will never perform it,” you tell him, but his look makes you think he has other plans.

When tour reaches Dallas, the song gets a version with you singing solo and Harry doing the vocals in it. And though you had doubts about the switch, listening back to it you can tell how much it helped. It really is better with a female voice, though you are still convinced it shouldn’t be you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sell it to someone? I’m fine with that,” you ask him before the show in Dallas. You’re sitting on the table in his dressing room while he is painting his nails, his tongue poking out in concentration.

“I told you, I like it with your voice. Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because I’m not a—“

“Fuck’s sake if you dare to tell me one more time that you’re not a solo singer, I’m firing you, Y/N!” he snaps, giving you a hard look, but you just laugh at his temper.

“It’s the truth.”

“Have you ever tried to go solo?”

“Not for years,” you admit and watch him screw the nail polish closed, pushing it aside, his hands lying flat on the table as he is carefully waiting for them to dry.

“So then how do you know you are no good at it?”

“Because I hated it back then, so I most likely would hate it now as well,” you state matter-of-factly, but Harry doesn’t seem amused by your answer.

“So you think you haven’t changed a bit in years? I hope you know that’s absolute bollocks.”

“Why are you so keen on making me sing solo?” you sigh, giving him a tired look. It feels like the two of you have been running the same circles since forever. It’s not his first attempt to get you sing more than just the vocals, he once wanted to do a cover and needed a partner because it was a duet and begged you for weeks to sing with him, but you didn’t give in. You just couldn’t.

“Because I think that you are a talented singer and I want you to feel the adrenaline rush performing gives you.”

“I do get that rush every time I sing behind you. That’s enough for me.”

Harry shakes his head pressing his lips tight together.

“That’s not the same as being in the lead. It’s a whole different world.”

“Yeah, one that makes me shit my pants,” you chuckle and he can’t push a smile back.

“Maybe we should just work on it. Your anxiety. I think we could actually make you feel better if we tried.”

“I still don’t know where this obsession with me being solo comes for you.”

Harry stands up, takes one last look at his nails before he steps closer smiling down at you softly and you bite into your bottom lip, realizing how close he is standing to you. His fingers tap in your cheek gently, running them down to your chin as he tilts your head up a bit.

“Just accept it, Love,” he smiles softly before stepping away and carrying on with his routine.

That evening, you stand at the back with the other two vocalists, eyes glued to Harry’s figure at the front of the stage, you watch him pour his soul out to the audience, interact with them and reach that state of mind you have never been able to get into. You know what he told you about performing is true, yet you are still terrified to do it yourself. It’s too nerve wrecking to have everyone look at and listen to you, so many chances to mess it up and make a fool out of yourself.

But when Harry’s eyes meet yours and he shoots you a warm smile, something shifts in you. The urge to have this connection with not just the audience and the song, but with him takes over your whole body and you make up your mind to at least give it a try.

Harry is ecstatic when you tell him later that night that you changed your mind. You see that sparkle in his eyes and it was already worth for you, just seeing him react like that.

“Though I have a few suggestions to change the lyrics.”

“You do?” he asks, seemingly surprised, but mostly amused that you had the balls to come out with it.

“Yeah. Just some tiny details.”

“Why haven’t you told me about these before?”

“Because it was your song. But if you want me to sing it, it has to be mine as well.” Harry stares back at you with a smile that’s filled with pride and joy, making your heart flutter in your aching chest as you think about performing solo.

“Our song,” he softly says nodding his head.

Arriving to Houston the two of you are quick to book a studio and work on the song. Harry lets you make any changes you desire on the lyrics, even says you did justice to it and that you should have spoken up earlier about your ideas. And then you record it.

It’s not that you have to sing the whole song and not just the vocals this time. You are completely fine with Harry hearing you sing, it’s the thought of performing it in front of anyone that’s not him, that’s what makes you turn into a wreck.

You record Harry’s vocals and once it’s all put together, you are blown by the outcome. You wouldn’t have thought Harry’s voice as the vocal would compliment you in the lead, but it’s just absolutely perfect and even you can’t find anything wrong with it.

“Love, this is what Heaven sounds like, I’m telling you,” he smirks at you from the chair beside you, playing the song for the tenth time, not able to get enough of the final product.

“You are so cheesy,” you shake your head, but feel the blush heating up your cheeks. His eyes linger on you a little longer before he turns back to the screen.

When the song is over he finally stops is so silence comes over the studio. Harry turns back to face you, his green eyes basically burning a hole into your head.

“So, when are we going to perform it?”

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea,” you sigh looking down at your hands fumbling with your shirt.

“And I do think it is. So I’m not stopping until you at least try it.”

Harry Styles gets what he wants. Always. And this time, no matter how hard you try to resist him, you just can’t deny this from him. Though it takes him time to talk you up, in Washington he finally gets you to give it a try in an empty stadium.

Most of the crew is out, since the building has been finished about half an hour before, so everything is perfectly set for tonight’s show when you walk out to the stage, following Harry in his heels. He asked the piano to be brought to the front along with a mic on it and another one on a stand next to it. The two of you quietly put on your earpieces, doing everything as if it was a usual occasion before a concert, only that this time the roles will be entirely switched.

“It’s fine, alright? No one is around,” he tells you when he sees how nervous you are to sing the song for the first time outside a studio.

“There are some backstage,” you mumble under your breath, not expecting him to do anything about it.

But he does. You watch him walk backstage, completely dumbfounded about what he is doing. He disappears from your sight and a few moments later you hear him shouting at the back.

“No one comes to the stage until I say so! Yea? Thanks!” he orders and then walks back as if he didn’t just boss around the whole crew.

“They will think you’re some kind of crazy celebrity,” you chuckle when he returns, a small smirk playing on his pink lips.

“Don’t care, Darling. Now sing you heart out for me.”

Harry sits on the piano bench, his fingers getting settled on the keys before he looks up to meet your anxious eyes.

“It’s alright. Just you and me, yea?”

Nodding you gulp hard and jump a little when he starts playing the melody the two of you have been working on for so long. You hear all the notes and you know you have to start singing, but you miss the opening. Harry stops and looks at you, as you move your eyes down to the ground, ashamed you messed up immediately.

“S-Sorry, I just—“

“How can I help?” he asks right away, not even caring about the fact that you messed up, focused on figuring out a way that would help you.

“I don’t know. I really don’t,” you sigh, feeling your nerves getting worse with each passing moment.

“Come sit next to me,” he then tells you motioning for you to join him on the bench.

“What?”

“Take your mic and sit next to me,” he repeats, scooting over to make you space. Hesitantly, you pull the mic out of the stand and walking over you sit next to him. “Now you are not in the center. Just listen to the music, watch my hands on the keys, okay?”

You nod, running your tongue over your dry lips as you hold the mic to your mouth before Harry starts playing again.

After the first few notes you close your eyes and when it’s time for you to start singing, Harry leans a little against you, giving you a kind of push to just do it. And it works.

It feels a little as if it’s not even you who starts singing, but it is. Your voice fills the empty arena along with the piano’s melody and keeping your eyes closed a little longer you let your mind settle. When the first verse ends you open them and watch his hands work on the keys, right as he starts singing the vocals, leaning a little forward so his voice reaches his mic.

It’s different. It’s electric and freeing, hear your voice through the massive speakers, to be in the lead and have Harry be just the support in the song. But it feels so right, better than anything you’ve ever felt.

Line after line, you hit all the notes and by the end of the song you are able to strip all your fears down and give yourself over to the music completely. As you sing the last few notes you feel Harry’s eyes on you and turning to face him, you are met with his warm, pride-filled smile and bright eyes, glued to you while his fingers press down the last notes.

The music dies down, the voice of the piano vibrates in the air a little longer until it completely disappears and the silence returns into the stadium.

“Love,” Harry quietly calls out for you and you turn completely towards him. “That was absolutely perfect.”

“You think so?” you ask, voice barely more than just a whisper, your eyes never leaving his gaze.

“I know so,” he huffs, smile widening. He brings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into a hug, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead as you let out a breath you’ve been holding in for way too long.

He doesn’t try to make you perform that evening, knowing well it was enough for one day, but he does make you sing it with him in each city in the upcoming weeks. Before every concert, he empties out the area around the stage and the two of you sit down at the piano, singing your song until you feel comfortable enough to stand next to the instrument instead of sitting next to him.

The tour reaches New York and Madison Square Garden is getting ready to host Harry Styles for two evenings. The place is massive and you find yourself sitting at the edge of the stage when Harry emerges from backstage.

“Looks wild, right?” he asks sitting next to you, his thigh brushing against yours as he gets seated.

“Yeah. Pretty amazing.”

“This place has the most magical vibe.” “Yeah?” Turning to him you watch him take the arena in, his eyes glistening at the sight in front of him. You know it’s not his first time performing here, but it’s nice to see the excitement in his eyes regardless.

That feeling returns to your chest, the one you felt when Harry told you he wanted you to sing the song. The urge to be part of this amazing something that’s so much bigger than you.

“H?”

“Yea?” he turns to you smiling.

“Can I… Do you think we could sing our song tonight?”

You watch the pure surprise and excitement wash over his face, his smile stretching across his face as he stares back at you in awe.

“You want to sing it?”

Shyly, you nod your head and in a heartbeat his arms lock around you, pulling you into the tightest hug. The two of you almost fall off the stage, laughing together at his dramatic reaction.

“Of course we can sing it, Love. Would be an honor!”

Harry is quick to let the band know about the addition for tonight’s set and though everyone seems surprised, they are all supportive about your solo. As the time goes and the concert gets closer, you can feel the nerves building up and soon enough, you start to doubt your choice to sing the song tonight.

Right before it’s time to go on stage Harry takes your hand and pulls you aside, taking your face in his hands gently, making you look into his eyes.

“I know you are doubting yourself, but just know that I’m very proud of you, even if you decide to not sing the last minute.”

“I could do that?” you whisper, your hands finding his sides and you let them rest on him, a way to ground yourself in the windwhirl of your thoughts.

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to make you do something you don’t really want. Though I know you will be amazing if you choose to sing.”

Nodding you let a weak smile appear on your lips and you notice as his eyes flicker down to them before he moves his gaze up to your eyes. He then pulls you into a proper hug before walking back to the rest of the band and vocalists.

Everything goes as usual and once again, you can’t take your eyes off Harry on the stage. Just watching him perform fills you up with life, enough to keep you from running away. About halfway into the set, as the crowd is still cheering after the previous song, Harry jogs over to you.

“You ready?” he asks over the noise and before you could think about it, you nod your head.

Two guys from the crew pushes the piano further to the front and they help to set everything up as you awkwardly stand at the side. Once your mic is in the stand you walk over there, heart hammering in your chest, hands shaking like crazy.

“I have a special song for you tonight,” Harry announces into the microphone as he makes his way over to the piano. “Please welcome the lovely Y/N here, who is gonna enchant you with a song we’ve been working on lately.”

The crowd screams and you allow yourself to look around with a weak smile. So many people, you think to yourself, everyone watching you.

“It’s called Homesick, and it means so much to us, so we hope you’ll like it Justas much as we do,” Harry adds before settling on the bench and his eyes find yours. “I’m proud of you,” you see him say, only able to read his lips since the crowd is screaming so loud. “Ready?” he asks and you nod, taking a shaky breath.

He sends you a warm comforting smile before glancing down at the keys and then he starts playing.

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Just like the first time, you close your eyes, forcing yourself to focus on the melody and nothing else. The lump in your throat is quite uncomfortable, but you open your eyes and see that Harry is looking straight at you, nodding in encouragement, as his fingers push down the keys to the notes right before you have to start.

“Here, where the sky’s falling, I’m covered in blue, I’m running and I’m crawling, fighting for you…”

Harry smiles wide when your voice flows through the speakers, filling the whole place, making everyone go quiet in a heartbeat as the song carries on. You feel your chest slowly deflating, the nerves cooling down with each sung note.

“You give me a reason, something to believe in, I know, I know, I know. You give me a meaning, something I can breathe in, I know, I know, I know…”

The chorus comes out perfect, your voice melting together with the piano and you finally feel your muscles relax as you slowly let go of every toxic thought that’s been tainting your mind. Harry leans closer to his microphone and his voice gently joins yours in the next verse.

“There’s a crack in my window, a bird in my room, angels all over that watch over you…”

Chills run down your spine hearing his voice, your eyes never leaving his gaze that’s fixated on your standing figure. You get lost in him and the song, something that came from the both of you, a piece of you and him. Standing there, singing this piece makes you feel closer to him than ever and you desperately want this feeling to last forever, hoping the song never ends though you know it’s gonna happen.

“When I’m walking on water all my dreams have come true. Still nothing means nothing without you…”

Homesick is exactly the feeling that bubbles inside you when you think of Harry. Because there’s this man you love so much, who is a home away from home to you, yet you still feel like you can’t be home entirely. Not in the way you’d want to. But standing on the stage in the spotlight, singing together with him as thousands of people are watching the two of you, yet you still manage to forget about them, for a moment, you feel like you finally arrived home. You are there, with him.

“Tell my heart to lie, but I know deep inside it’s true. That I wish I was there with you. That I wish I was there with you, oh I wish I was there with you.”

He plays the end of the song without tearing his eyes away from you, and there’s just a heartbeat of silence before the crowd starts screaming deafeningly, but that short moment… is yours and his.

Tugging your hair behind your ears with your shaky hands, your eardrums on the verge of breaking as you let out a laugh that was kind of a sob as well, relief washing over your body. Harry is quick to jump to his feet and rushing over he envelopes you in a tight hug.

“I’m so so so proud of you, Love. You were everything!” he mumbles, arms holding you so tight you almost lose your breath, but you want him this close, or even closer. You need to feel him, because it doesn’t feel real. His hold brings you a sense of existence only he can give you.

“Thank you, Harry,” you breathe out when he pulls back to look into your eyes, the screaming hasn’t died down even a tad little.

“No, thank you, Darling. You shined like the star that you are,” he grins, playing a sloppy kiss to your cheek before his arms fall off you.

You’d die to stay in this moment a little longer, but the show must go on. The crew pushes the piano back and soon enough, the next song starts. You stay in your spot for the rest, but you keep catching Harry smiling in your way, always making you blush.

The end of a concert is always a little hectic, everyone is all over the place. Still coming off the high you just experienced, you head to the dressing room you share with the other vocalists. They are going on and on about how amazing Homesick was, and you somehow still can’t believe tonight happened. Packing your stuff you barely notice that the door flies open, but you see Harry appear from the corner of your eye.

“Ladies, would you please give me a moment with Y/N?” he asks and the girls are quick to leave the two of you alone. You stand there, kind of dumbfounded, not sure why he is acting so dramatic. Once the door closes and it’s just you and him, he stares at you, chest heaving, his hair wet from his sweat, but he still looks breathtaking.

“Harry—“

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he cuts you off, your breath gets caught in your throat as you stare back at him, completely frozen. Opposite to what he just said, he remains standing in the same spot and you’re not sure what’s happening. “Can I? Please say yes, I can’t hold myself back for any longer,” he then adds.

“Yes,” you breathe out without even thinking about it. In a heartbeat, Harry crosses the room, chest smashing against yours as he wraps his arms around you, lips crashing onto yours in a kiss that almost makes you moan into his mouth.

It’s all a hot mess, teeth clashing, hands all over each other before his palms run down to the back of your thighs, urging you to jump. When you do, you wrap your legs around his waist and let him walk over to the table nearby, so he can place you on top, standing between your thighs as he keeps kissing you hungrily, his tongue melting together with yours in this sweet chaos. It keeps going on and on, neither of you wanting to let go of the other, but you are eventually forced to stop, coming short of air. Panting wildly, lips swollen from his kisses, you look at him to meet his gaze.

“You have no idea how hard it was to stop myself from kissing you on stage.”

“What?” you breathe out.

“Y/N, I’m fucking crazy about you and seeing you come over your stage fright, sing that song… our song, fuck, that did some unbelievable things to me. Please tell me you felt the same thing!” He is begging, not just with his words, but with his eyes as well and it crushes your soul entirely.

“I did. Harry, I always do when I’m with you.”

“Fucking Hell,” he breathes out before kissing you again. “You are… everything, Love,” he mumbles against your lips and you can’t push down the smile stretching across your face, hearing him say the same words he said right after the song.

“You’ve told me that,” you tease him, his gaze meeting yours as he flashes you his famous half-smirk, heart fluttering at the sight of him.

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x vocalist!reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles au

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m-aster-of-spinjitzu · 3 years

Text

the hues of an empty sky

Missing memories, or having two of them for one moment - not quite the same, but if there's one thing Jay's leant over the last few weeks, it's that literally nothing makes sense anymore.

Or, some Skybound aftermath, Zane actually expressing emotions about his memory switch being turned off for all those years, and what was supposed to be a 'they tell everyone about the erased timeline' fic, but it turned into a 'two characters who barely interact on screen talk at like one am in the morning, and don't actually tell the other what exactly they're alluding to the whole time' fic that I wrote at like one am-

Also yeah, I realized too late that they split up to look for Wu after s7, we’re just gonna pretend that they waited a few days or something, idk anymore tbh, lol.

(I also didn't have time to edit - so please tell me where the typos are? 😂💛)

Word count: 4539

Prompt: crying, from @ninjago-bingo 's warm board.

Trigger warnings: the main character has a panic attack, and squeezes their fingernails into their hands once or twice but I think that's it.

*facepalms* also, guys, i’m so stupid - i literally just realized that this freaking CHANGES TENSE HALFWAY OHMYGOSH I- i don’t think it’s super noticeable, but ugh, apologies to anyone who actually thought my writing was good lol-

---

It's cold.

Bitterly, freezing cold.

The biting chill of the air is a bit strange for this time of year, but, heck, that's nowhere near the craziest thing that's ever happened to him - not by a long shot.

He sighs, squinting at the stars dotted liberally against the black canvas of the sky.

Cole had once joked that one of them might be the remains of their golden weapons, after they'd hurled the burning mass into the sky - in another alternate timeline; one that only existed in the memories of a certain few.

Gosh - that seemed like such a long time ago.

Wouldn't it be nice to go back to that time, when he'd still thought that their powers were the coolest thing ever - instead of despising them for all the responsibility and sacrifice that came with them? When one of his biggest worries was whether the girl he had a crush on liked him back - not wondering if his friends would survive the night?

"I did not expect to find you awake at this hour, Jay."

Reflexivity, he jumps back, his mind twisting his friend's gentle voice into the- the djin's triumphant, accented one.

You're supposed to be a ninja. What good are you if your friends can still sneak up on you?

"Geez, warn a guy before you sneak up on him! I almost fell off the Bounty!"

"My apologies. I was... surprised to find you awake at this hour," Zane answers. "What are you doing?" "Couldn't sleep. It's too cold," he confesses, not entirely a lie. Ninjago wasn't 'that' far from the Sea of Sand, but he'd grown up in a much warmer area - unfortunately resulting in his practically nonexistent tolerance to the cold. That never failed to stop Kai from teasing him about it, though. He doesn't mention the pressing weight on his chest, almost tangible - or how it constantly makes him feel. Like he's being dragged through the darkness of an empty sky, spikes of fear making everything so freaking terrifying- "You?"

"I have been analyzing my memories of Pixal, in the hope that it may lead me to her whereabouts. However, all my efforts have proved... unsuccessful," Zane answers wearily, shifting his gaze to the sky.

Oh- oh. They'd all be so caught up in the chaos of the last few weeks - hey, it's not like any of them had asked the universe to permanently be out to get them! - that they'd forgotten Pixal was still offline.

"Hey, I'm sure that she's still there somewhere," he says, earnestly. "After all - she wouldn't be your girlfriend if she didn't pull a vanishing act every now and again, eh?"

The question is punctuated with a laugh, but he doesn't say that he's a little worried about her too. They hadn't talked much, but-

I can't see one of my best friends find out that his girlfriend is dead, a quiet voice at the back of his mind points out. Well - been there, done that, wouldn't recommend, he thinks bitterly. Emotional breakdowns and frequent nightmares apply. Anxiety attacks are half off, too!

It's quiet for a few minutes, neither of them seeing a need to break the silence. The wind blows softly through the sails above them; gray wisps of cloud revealing a pale sliver of moonlight that paints the sky in its glow.

It should be a peaceful night: beautiful, calm, no one trying to kill them or destroy their city - for a change.

His hands won't stop shaking.

It should be a peaceful night, but, as usual, the world is too freaking unfair for that-

He hasn't even slept for a full night in weeks! Well, not since- since-

Don't think about it! That's only going to make it worse, duh-

"Are you alright, Jay?"

"Yeah- I- I'm good, thanks," he says quickly, ignoring the way his breathing keeps speeding up. FSM, not this-

Not for the first time, the world suddenly becomes too loud - too much. Every little thing, from trying to breathe properly or even walk- feels insurmountable, because, gosh, oh gosh, it's going to come crashing down if he even moves-

The memory starts off the same as it always does.

Rubble strewn over the temple grounds, his friends literally reduced to nothing more than statues. A shot that hit the mark perfectly, but perfectly shattered his world in the process.

A poison-splattered dress, a terrifying realization.

Her well-aimed joke, but one that never fails to sting every time. Gosh, why hadn't they just allowed her to join their team in the first place? Maybe they could've prevented this- this- whole situation, if they hadn't been so freaking egotistical-

And, again, he's overwhelmed by the sheer sense of helplessness, all his power and training and skills completely useless to one of the people he cared most about. FSM, if only I hadn't used my first w-request so carelessly! If only I'd been able to escape- or, or if only I'd been able to assemble the team faster! If only-

Despite being in what must've been unimaginable pain, she offers a strained smile - a sweet gesture that, ironically, feels like she's poisoning him, because- because FSM, this is all so wrong, it wasn't supposed to end like this-

He watches with horror as her eyes dull and she stills in his arms.

She's gone, FSM, she's gone and it's all my fault-

"Jay?" a voice asks, concern evident in their tone. Distantly, he registers that he's having a breakdown in front of one of his best friends - one of the things he'd been trying really hard to avoid.

Dang it.

"I-" he tries to say, but, great, he's breathing too fast to even get the stupid words out.

"Breathe in for four seconds," Zane says, softly.

Four seconds? Time has no meaning right now, narrowed down to, like - falling down a chasm, terrified of what's at the bottom, except the fear's all around, this- this... foreboding thing of his mind that keeps yelling that he needs to run, or fight, but he can't, can't-

Right. Four seconds.

You're okay, you're fine, no one's trying to hurt you or your friends. She's not dead.

But what if- what if they're being dragged out of this ship right now? What if it was all a dream, and she's dead anyway, because all of us were too stupid to come up with another plan, and none of us could even do anything when she-

After a little while, when he could breathe a little easier, and the fear didn't feel like it was slamming into him from every possible direction, he slowly opened his eyes. Shakily, he wiped a tear from his face - as if that would wipe away all the weeks that had, theoretically, never even freaking happened.

The sky comes back into focus - pinpricks of light against pitch black.

How was he going to come up with some sorta explanation without... well, explaining everything?

Great.

My nerves are frayed, and I have to lie to a walking lie detector - what could possibly go wrong?

"Are you alright?" Zane asks, his brows creased in concern.

"Heh heh, yeah. Probably just too many video games," he replies quickly, laughter a bit strained.

"You were muttering to yourself," his friend replies quietly. Ugh, trust the way-too-observant-nindroid to call him out on the remains of his facade. "If you do not mind me asking, what was 'all your fault'? I am sure that it was probably a misunderstanding."

You're the one who misunderstands everything, he thinks wearily, ignoring the part of him that yearns to tell someone else about... well, everything that's happened because of that stupid teapot. He's not one to keep secrets by nature, and it's been taking a bigger toll of him than he'd thought it would. Is this how Nya felt when she was still the Samurai? "It's- it's nothing, probably just nonsense."

"Are you sure? You seem... quite worried about something."

Dang it, were his hands still shaking? He presses his fingernails into his palms, squeezing his eyes shut for a second.

He's talking to one of his best friends, FSM. Weren't friends able to tell each other anything?

"Do you think it's easier to forget? Better?"

He didn't even realize he'd asked a question until Zane's eyes widened in surprise.

A forest coated in snow, ice crystals dangling from the tree branches above their heads. Plenty of screaming - way too much, he reflects, couldn't they have been a bit nicer? It must've been pretty jarring to learn that you weren't human, or that your father had erased years of your life from your mind - in that weird underground treehouse. Those crazy tree monsters - and the realization that they all had much more power than they'd thought.

"N- nevermind," he stutters, fleetingly thinking of kicking the deck. "That's way too personal, you don't have to answer it-"

"I do not mind," Zane says, a bit sadly.

Oh.

Heck, his friend was way too nice.

They gaze up at the stars for a few minutes, not really seeing them - one drowning under the weight of too many secrets, the other, too many memories.

It's quiet - too quiet.

Ugh, he thinks, sighing, that sounds like something a low-budget horror movie would start with, cringey sound effects to match.

But the silence is a painful reminder of the days he'd spent tossing and turning in a cramped cell - nothing but his worries and the bruises on his leg from that stupid ball and chain keeping him awake.

He's been trying hard - maybe too hard - to avoid being alone, avoid being in a situation where they've gotta be quiet ever since then, because, dang it, his memories always seem to fill the silence, and they're always far more terrifying than they should be-

It's easier, in a way, to be mocked for his stupid jokes than it is to relive a single moment from those nightmarish few weeks.

Almost reflexively, he grasps for something to fill the quiet.

"Heh, this is a bit awkward. It's okay if you wanna leave-"

"I do not mind," Zane echoes, walking a bit closer. "It is not as if I need to sleep. But... I do not quite know what to think of your question."

There comes the answer - or a semblance of one at least, and it's the last thing he'd been expecting.

"You don't know?" he blurts out before he can even think of trying to filter the thought. Way to treat your friend who's been nothing but kind to you, Jay. "But you're- you're a nindroid! You know everything-"

"Pixal," his friend mutters softly, sighing, and the hurt, the fear, laced through the word makes something in his heart practically twist. He knows all too well what it feels like to be in that situation - even if, technically, it had never happened.

Then- "I wish that were true. But I suppose that my emotions make certain situations much more complicated than... than they need to be. Thus I cannot give my perspective on this - or, at least, without sounding quite conflicted."

"You know that you're allowed to be conflicted, right? Even the coolest Nindroids don't know everything."

"...Yes, I suppose so."

Jay frowns at the almost subconscious hesitation, eyebrows creasing in concern.

"Seriously," he starts earnestly. They're both leaning on one of the railings just above the deck now. "Just 'cause you're a nindroid doesn't mean that you've gotta chase some kind of perfection that doesn't even exist."

He doesn't miss how Zane's eyes widen in shock, their bright blue hue glowing a little brighter - and heck, if that doesn't hurt even more than the earlier realization.

"Besides - it's not like none of us haven't made mistakes before. Hate to go all Wu on ya, but they help us learn or some stupid thing like that. Even if the mistake is trying not to make 'em, you know?"

"Thank you," Zane replies, a tired smile on his face. "Even the most advanced tech is susceptible to error, I suppose."

They've all made lots of mistakes, heaven forbid if one of them is still agonizing over messing up over the crazy situations the universe constantly put them in. It's not like they were told they'd have to face more ancient evil armies than they could count, were they?

Maybe it's time to stop focusing on events that never even happened, and pay more attention to your friends. What's the point of being part of this team if you're always scared or selfish?

"Shut up," he mumbles, rubbing his temples. What's the point of fighting if your own brain is gonna fight you whenever it gets a chance? A few seconds later, he schools his face back into his default anxious grin. "Great, cause I- I- could use your advice on something." "Alright," comes the quiet reply, his friend seemingly lost in thought.

"What if you wanted to tell someone something, but you couldn't?"

His breathing starts to speed up again, but he grips the deck until his fingers are practically bruised, stark white against his tanned skin. Not this time-

"Is this what you were referring to earlier? An event that you blamed yourself for?" Zane asks, eyes flitting between the floor and the sky.

Dang it, way too observant as usual. He masks his surprise with a laugh, but the conversation definitely isn't going as planned and, oh gosh oh gosh, what if-

No, there's no way that any of them would even believe that. Besides - no one can remember stuff that they've forgotten, especially if magic's at play.

"Yeah, kinda," and he's surprised by how steady his voice sounds. It's not easy to even think about that- event, talking about it is a whole different thing. A much more difficult thing, but also - a bit, a little bit, easier. "I-" "Apologies for interrupting," his friend interjects. "I suppose that I have not been entirely honest with you." What?

"A few days ago, I discovered a number of deleted memory files buried deep within my code."

Just like that, his whole world tilts out from underneath him.

It takes every ounce of his strength to keep himself from falling into the abyss again.

Wait, what?

Has he really known for all this time? It's been weeks! Surely he would've said something? It can't be, it never even-

The rational part of his mind points out that he can remember every day of those few weeks. Well, he was the one to make the wish - magical logic is kinda stupid, but maybe that's why he had to remember it or something?

Well then, a small voice interjects, why was Nya cursed to remember everything too?

Of course, even the stupid magical logic doesn't even make sense to the one who caused this whole mess in the first place.

"They were almost entirely corrupted - scrambled in a way that I am not familiar with. However, I did realize that certain files bore dates that have not even occurred yet. I dismissed it as a problem with my code, however..."

Breathe, calm down, it's not like he was able to process them or anything-

We agreed that no one was supposed to know! What if they end up blaming us for keeping it a secret this long, or, or-

"I mean, they could've been-" he starts, but the way in which he's nervously twisting his fingers is a pretty clear indication that he's lying, dang it.

"So when you mentioned that you were unable to tell someone something - did you mean that it was because they had quite literally forgotten about it?"

Great. Fantastic. Of course the literal robot has pieced it together by now-

He squeezes his eyes shut for a minute, hoping that if he ignores the problem, maybe it'll go away.

Okay, fine, maybe he's trying to figure out a way to fix this whole mess. Doesn't mean that he's any closer to coming up with a solution, though.

"Er, yeah," he whispers, shoulders slumped, eyes still firmly shut. Because gosh, he doesn't want to - can't, can't - see the realization dawn that, yeah, he's lied to people he's known for years and years, even though they've all seen way too many times that secrets bring nothing but trouble-

"Well, then - I would say that you don't have to tell them," Zane replies, surprisingly... earnestly? That, or he's either too freaked out to understand the tone properly. Could be either.

He opens his eyes, hesitantly.

And it comes as a bit of a shock to find nothing but concern reflected in his friend's.

The almost persistent weight on his chest feels a little lighter now, like the sky isn't as quite so empty.

Well, it still kinda is. But that doesn't hold as much weight as he'd thought it did - not if one of his friends is willing to look past that; past the heaviness of holding up all those memories with nothing his single star, flickering in and out of the darkness, to try and light the unforgiving darkness of the sky.

"Why?" Jay asks, so quietly he can barely hear it himself. "Don't I owe it to them? Do you?"

"No. Definitely not," comes the reply, so full of conviction that he almost stumbles back. Why-

"My father..."

Oh- oh.

"thought it was better to spare me the pain of mourning him than for me to know who I was," Zane confesses, hesitantly. "Not that I disagree, necessarily. I just..."

He trails off, clutching the railing so hard that the wood almost snaps beneath his titanium fingers.

It takes Jay a little while to realize why - why exactly his friend, who has access to a wealth of knowledge and information, is grasping for an answer. Because- because, well, even if someone does something in your best interests - sometimes the choice isn't always up to them. Or maybe it is, but it was... difficult, to say the least, to let go of the fact that his parents had never told him the truth sooner. Not that he blames them, necessarily - it's not like they knew that his father would pass on before he'd even get the chance to meet him - but... it's confusing, and difficult, not to know why you were left at a junkyard as soon as you were born. Maybe if he'd known that sooner, he could've asked the one person who might've had answers - although it's not like hoping for the past to change will actually change it.

They don't even know that you know, a small voice at the back of his mind points out, and suddenly everything makes a lot more sense-

"You wanted a choice," he breathes, eyes widening. A choice - like one that he'd never been given, one that he stills struggles not to hold against two people who've always had his best interests at heart. Even if they did have the right to withhold that one thing, after all they've done for him - the 'what if's' still echo in his mind far more often than he'd like. "There's nothing wrong with that, even if it feels that way. I kinda get where you're coming from, dude, and it's... super confusing, but I'd be pretty mad if my memories were tampered with like that."

So would anyone, he realizes, heart sinking. Oh, great. Not helping-

"I- I suppose so?" Zane answers, but it sounds more like a question than a reply. "However, in the same vein, it would be unwise for you to give away your choice whilst you still have one." "But don't I owe it to everyone? You just said it, it's horrible to alter people's memories and I- I-" "Did we forget... whatever it was for a good reason? "I- I mean, I guess, but..." "Then you do not owe it to us to relive something that we do not even remember." The words should be a relief - and they kinda are. But some part of him really does want to explain the crazy alternate timeline, and everything that happened in it. It's just... really, really freaking difficult.

"What if- what if I wanted to, though?" Jay asks hysterically, running his hands through his hair in a frenzied sort of way. "And I still couldn't? I just, I-"

He cuts himself off with a bout of forced laughter.

Zane takes a moment to reply, the bright blue light in his eyes flickering - a small tell that he was thinking so deeply, his processors were literally sparking up a bit.

"You queried earlier if it was easier, or better, to forget. And while all situations are different, I suppose it is... well, subjective. What do you think?" Zane asks, softly.

Derailing the conversation a bit, but his friend's obviously smart enough to be leading up to something.

Sure, he'll go along with it.

"I mean, there are some things I'd rather forget, you know? I guess we all know what that feels like," Jay replies, the statement with oddly sad air to it. They're still kids, after all, and it gets a bit exhausting pretending that their superhero lives were all fun and games - when they'd just given him enough grey hair to last then lifetimes, and enough nightmares to keep him from ever getting the normal amount of sleep his mum always prattled on about.

Sleep, heh heh. Practically a foreign concept, now.

"And I know that stuff that happens, like shapes us or something - and Master Wu would probably go off on a whole ramble about why we learn from our mistakes or whatever," he laughs nervously, resisting the urge to just fall headfirst onto the deck of the stupid ship instead of continuing the conversation," and how 'our scars only make us stronger', crap like that, but I just-"

"I'm just really... tired of this," he confesses warily, shoulders slumped. "W- I remember so many horrible things, and I-" he breaks off, laughing bitterly. His voice takes on a sort of brittle quality, way too high pitched, "and I can't even talk about them, dude. If that's not the most pathetic thing ever, I dunno what is."

"It does not-"

"Don't say it," Jay mutters, rubbing his temples. "I know, I know, my feelings aren't pathetic, they're always valid, whatever, spare me the lecture-"

"That is not what I was going to say," Zane replies gently. "It just seems that you have answered your own question."

"Gee, which one?"

"I do not know how much helpful assistance I can provide in this situation, but it is understandable to wish certain events had never occurred. However, seeing as we cannot change the past, it seems unwise to dwell on said events if you can avoid it."

Jay stiffens, clamping a shaky hand over his mouth. Something seems to press down even harder on his chest, a heavy sort of weight that causes his breathing to speed up again. Don't say it don't say it there's no reason to warn them this time-

"If you would like to tell any of us about something, of course you are welcome to. It does not to be the whole story, after all. Just make sure that it is the decision you choose, not one you choose because of what you think how it will affect others," Zane finishes quietly, ducking his head as if he's embarrassed.

The stars are still white-hot, burning away some million miles above them.

"Thanks," he says, and puts his hand softly on Zane's shoulder. "I mean, I know - that all makes sense, I guess. It's just- I-"

"You want to?"

"Yeah," Jay starts, sighing, "I do. It's just- it's not just my choice. And I'm pretty much dying already right now, so, as fantastic as making it all worse sounds, hard pass."

Oops, maybe he shouldn't have said that last bit. They'd agreed not to tell anyone about it - even this conversation was cutting it way too close. It wasn't impossible for them to put everything together - they were a pretty smart group, after all, even without their resident inventor and engineer - and Jay didn't really know what he'd think if they did. Fearful? Relieved? Angry?

"That does... not sound great? Dying certainly does not seem-"

"It's called sarcasm, Zane."

"Oh- yes. My memory now accesses the fact that people often speak in that manner. It does seem a bit counterproductive, though. Why not just say what you mean?"

"Shut it, you have no clue how integral to my life it is," Jay replies with a halfhearted grin.

A few seconds later, he remembers something his friend had mentioned earlier, and the grin disappears.

"You know that you can talk to us if you're not happy, right?" he asks, earnestly. Sure, it's not like he could always do that, considering, well, a stupid djin and even stupider magic, but it's not like he needs to. It's- well- he'll be okay, probably. Maybe. Kinda.

Zane's eyes blink on and off again, blue fading in and out. "I... I suppose that I was not quite aware of that."

Okay, they've screwed up way too many times, but this... this is pretty bad. Dang it, how long does it take for them to throw self-preservation instincts at their friend before he freaking- picks them up or something?

"However, will it not hurt those who have experienced the same unfortunate events?"

Dude, not the best question to ask someone wondering the exact same thing-

"It's been... uh, nice, kind of, talking to you. So- I don't think so, and I'm pretty sure someone would say so if it did. Besides, don't we talk about our adventures all the time? It'd probably be better if we... uh, well- heh heh, nothing."

"If we talked about the less than positive elements of them? Perhaps, but I still-"

Maybe it's the fact Zane has always tried to be there for him, or maybe he's too sleep deprived to care anymore, but this is a way too familiar situation and-

Well, not ignoring the issue would be a start.

"Sorry to interrupt, but we're family, Zane. We care about each other. And, gosh, that means that we care about you too. Memories are stupid and annoying sometimes, but we have to make good ones too, right? To block out the bad ones a bit, I guess? Kinda, at least."

They both look away from the stars now, grappling for something else to say.

In the end, they leave it be with a hug and a fondly exasperated warning about sleeping, if you happen to need it.

After all, they're family. They don't have to be perfect, or tell each other everything - even if it does take them a long time to realize that, and an even longer time remembering it.

---

The next time Jay startles awake from a nightmare, the sky is still empty - painfully so, like an ache that simmers beneath the surface even when it's not able to be seen.

The hue, though, is a little lighter.

Just a little - the all-encompassing darkness of it is now a navy sort of blue, his star shining a little bit brighter.

It's still not sunrise, not even close - but he'll take it. AN: the ‘sky’ mentioned at the start and end is a stupid metaphor that i somehow ended up liking too much to trash, it’s ‘empty’ because he hasn’t told anyone about the timeline, and Nya’s not included because they never had a chance to tell each other everything significant or even talked about it or processed it on screen. so yeah! if you read this,,, not great thing, can i send you a hug or good vibes or smth? tyy🥺

#ninjago #jay walker #zane julien #skybound #ninjago fic #not the best thing i've written #actually it's not great-#but i spent too long on it to not post it so if you actually read to here i simunltaneously wanna send you good vibes & apologize profusely-#the ending is super rushed but im too tired to try and write a better one yay:/#also dang it- sorry this fits the prompt so badly i-#i didn't realize till after oops #ninbingo #ninjago jay #ninjago zane #ninjago masters of spinjitzu

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haikyuuuuuhypeeeee · 3 years

Text

Chapter 7

⚠️WARNING: Mentions of previous characters' deaths, swearing, mention of unhealthy coping mechanism

• ────── ✾ ────── •

You gasp as you wake up, your eyes attempting to discern anything in the dark.

What the…

Not even two seconds ago you were playing volleyball back in the Aoba Johsai gymnasium. It was a silly two on three game, Oikawa and Mattsun vs you, Makki and -

Oh.

Tears well up in your eyes, fast and hot. They flow down the side of your face, into your hair and the pillow. You do nothing to stop them, crushed by the sudden wave of sadness.

It was a dream. It was a freaking dream.

You’re alone in your apartment in the middle of the night. You’re a college student at Sendai Uni. You don’t play volleyball.

And Hajime is dead.

The sobs come out unconstrained, as you were too heartbroken to try to stop them. How could you, as it was the only way for you to let out the sorrow and anguish coursing through your blood right now.

C’mon Y/N, get yourself together. You will yourself to calm down, getting the sobs to subside. The tears don’t slow though, as you sit up to grab some tissues from your bedside table. You clean yourself up, sniffling and grabbing your phone.

It’s only just past 1am, and you can’t fathom the idea of falling back asleep. Not when there’s the chance of you falling back into that dream. Not when you can be fooled into thinking that you’re playing volleyball, still trying to receive Oikawa’s serves and laughing when Hajime yells at Makki to take this seriously -

Your eyes well up with fresh tears and you clutch a tissue to your mouth to muffle the cries that want to escape.

The only thing you’re sure about right now is that you don’t want to be alone. You can’t be alone, you just can’t.

You unlock your phone but staring at your screen you don’t know who you can call.

Ok, that’s not true. You have a lot of people you can call. Your parents, Oikawa, Mattsun, Makki, hell even your therapist gave you her cellphone to call if you need her. And you know that all of those people wouldn’t hesitate to listen to you and help you.

But do you want to call any of them?

This isn’t a life or death situation, and you don’t feel like you are a danger to yourself so it would be irresponsible to call your therapist. It’s the middle of the night and your parents still work so you don’t want to wake them up.

That leaves your friends, the people who honestly could still be awake and maybe even wanting to talk to someone. But Makki has Mattsun, and vice versa. Which would leave Oikawa, but honestly? He’s been more than unbearable lately, and you’ve been walking on eggshells around him, scared that anything you say will set him off.

So you’re here, laying in your bed with no one to call. And the one person that you desperately want to call is dead.

Sniffling again and wiping the fresh tears from your eyes you pull up your texts. Maybe you can send a funny meme to Makki and start a meme war - it’ll take your mind off your current predicament at least. But your eyes fall to the chat you have with Osamu, close to the top of your messages.

Huh, you didn’t really think of him.

Not that you wouldn’t want to talk to Osamu. He’s actually very funny, with his dry humor and easy banter. Your friendship, despite its more than unusual beginning, has blossomed into something you’ve come to cherish.

But you can’t bother him with this, no no. You guys can, and have, confide in each other about your struggles and your complicated feelings and emotions. But it’s mainly been small bits and pieces shared over coffee.

But it couldn’t hurt to text him, no?

You wouldn’t say anything about your dream. Maybe you can find a funny meme to send him, or ask a question about lunch tomorrow.

You methodically type out your message, finding a meme to almost perfectly capture your mood (but not too accurately.)

You send the text before talking yourself out of it. It wouldn’t surprise you if Osamu didn’t text you back - it’s late (or early, depending on your opinion) and he should be sleeping.

You sigh deeply, finding yourself back in square one. Square one plus a stuffy nose, aching head and absolutely broken heart. You close out of the messaging app and decide to find some show to binge while you wait for the sun to rise.

Your phone begins vibrating and you’re surprised to see what comes across your screen.

Osamu doesn’t text you back. He calls you.

You pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“I hope that photo isn’t a subtle request to have me come over and cook for ya.” The soft, calm voice coming through the phone makes your chest tighten. It brings a wave of relief because you’re not alone but drowns you in guilt at inconveniencing your friend.

You clear your throat and sniffle. “No, sorry.” Your voice cracks and you wince at how obvious it is that you were just crying.

Osamu picks up on your current state. “Hey, are ya alright?”

He sounds so concerned, the teasing lilt in his voice instantly dropped. Your eyes start to water again and you can’t stop the sob that escapes your lips in time.

“Hey, Y/N are ya okay? Where are you, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” you croak out. Your voice sounds horrible, extremely hoarse and tight as you try not to let more sobs spill out. Gritting your teeth helps keep them at bay but it does nothing to stop the flow of tears. You sniffle, loud.

“Where are you? Are you in danger?”

“No, no. I’m at my apartment. I’m okay.” You take in a shaky breath, sniffling again and clearing your throat. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“It’s okay,” Osamu replies. He doesn’t sound as frantic as he did before but you can detect the worry in his voice. “I was still up so it’s no bother. I don’t even know why I called honestly. I think I just wanted to see what ya were doin’ up.”

“It’s fine, you can call me whenever,” you reply earnestly. “I….just had a dream.”

A split second of hesitation is all you’re allowed to mentally scream at yourself for breaking the one condition you set when you decided to text Osamu. “A dream?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you. “Yeah, and I’m sorry for bugging you because it’s not fair to you but I just have to tell someone or else I feel like I’m going to fucking suffocate. I know I should just call my friends but they don’t want to hear me go on and on and -”

“Hey, hey Y/N. Calm down and take a breath.” You listen to Osamu, taking a pause to breathe. Your head is now throbbing painfully and your throat feels wretched. “What was yer dream about?”

“I was playing volleyball with my friends and...Hajime.” You are silently screaming at yourself. You were not going to do this to Osamu, you were not going to burden your friend, who is already facing struggles of his own, with your problems.

But...he did ask what your dream was about.

“We were playing volleyball together,” you go on. “And it felt so real, like one minute I was in the middle of a play and the next I was waking up in my bed, searching for the ball. It took me a few seconds to realize that it was all a dream, and, and,” your breath hitches again and you feel more sobs bubbling out. Again you feel the grief take control of your body and you start crying.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay Y/N.” Osamu is trying to soothe you but it’s not doing much to calm you down. If anything the added reassurance was making you cry harder “It’s okay.”

It’s not okay. It’s so far from okay that you can’t even imagine how you would get to okay.

“I’m sorry,” you sob. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Ya don’t hafta apologize,” Osamu replies. “Just let it out, Y/N.”

Oh boy, do you let it out. You cry and cry, curled up in a ball in your bed, lamenting the loss of your best friend and trying not to drown even more in your sorrow.

But you’re not alone, really. There’s not another person in the apartment with you, but you have Osamu on the phone right now. He’s reaching out to you, reaching through the dark and trying to get to you.

You’re not alone.

You feel the sobs subsiding as your breathing returns to normal. Your entire head is throbbing, you have no chance of breathing out of your nose and your eyes are painfully dry.

“Are ya alright?”

“Yeah,” you rasp out. “I’m sorry again, for that.”

“Ya don’t ever have to apologize to me,” Osamu says immediately. His insistence brings a small smile to your face. “If ya ever need to talk about yer dreams or anything, that’s what I’m here for.”

“Thank you,” you reply. Your voice is nasally but you try to get as much sincerity in it as possible.

“Of course, and ya can call whenever. I don’t sleep so there’s a good chance ya’ll catch me anytime.”

You pause in wiping your face with your tissues as you take in what Osamu is telling you. “You don’t…sleep?”

“Nah.” Osamu's nonchalant answer makes your cock your head in confusion. “I don’t think I can remember the last time I actually slept through an entire night.”

“So,” you pause, still not comprehending. “What do you…do?”

“I do my homework, I’ve got a job at the convenience store and I usually work the night shift. Sometimes I read or binge watch a new show.” He laughs. “Usually every three or four days I just pass out for 14 hours or so, and then repeat.”

“Osamu,” you chastise. “That’s not healthy.”

He laughs again but it’s not the light chuckle from before - it’s a hollow laugh with a hard edge. “Yeah, well it stops me from havin’ the kind of dreams yer havin’. The kind where I forget that my brother is dead.”

You’re taken aback from the harshness in Osamu’s voice. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard him sound like that. It could be considered in the same category as his usual tone - dry, sarcastic and nearly apathetic. But his regular tone is part of his sense of humor and how you two converse. You’ve never felt unease from those conversations, but now you do.

“And ya know what's worse than those little dreams?” Osamu doesn’t wait for input. “The worst is when I’m not even asleep and my stupid brain will give me random reminders from when my brother was alive. Like ‘don’t forget to wake up early and shower before Atsumu uses all the hot water!’ Or,” Osamu takes in a harsh breath, the noise making your phone speaker crackle. “Or the reminder to grab another sports drink at the store for Atsumu because he’s a scrub but he’s my brother and I love him. Or to save the mushrooms from my dinner even though they’re gross but Atsumu will trade his broccoli for them.”

Osamu blasts on, speaking fervently. Someone listening in would think he’s mad at you, but you know his frustration isn’t directed at you.

“But then I remember that I live alone, and I don’t need two bottles of sports drink and my plate is full of fucking mushrooms for no god damn reason.”

“And then, after feeling like the world’s biggest idiot for forgetting that my own twin brother is dead, I remember how alone I am.” He lets out another laugh, but it’s not light nor is it bitter. It’s worse, full of self-deprecation and pain.

You wait with bated breath, waiting for any sign on life through the phone. But when Osamu speaks, a small, broken voice comes through the line and nearly breaks your heart.

“It’s like - finding a life raft in the middle of the ocean but when you get to it it’s just a bundle of seaweed - it gets me every time.”

You inhale quietly. You want to reassure him but you can’t find the right words to say.

You can’t, because you know exactly how it feels.

The cold hard truth is that Iwaizumi Hajime is dead. There is nothing in the world that can bring him back, and there is nothing you can do to change that fact. Some days you can accept this fact easier than others.

On the easy days you feel most like yourself carrying a small rock. The weight of Hajime’s death will be something you will always carry with you. But on those easy days you can slip the rock in your pocket or hold it in your hand and carry on through life.

On the hard days it takes way more effort to lug the boulder around. You don’t know if you should drag it, heft it over your shoulder, tie a rope around it and yank hard. Sometimes you’re left to your own devices, sometimes your therapist or your parents can tell you the best way to carry it. Even your friends have stepped in to help you carry it, despite their own rocks to hold.

But the absolute worst days are the ones where you lose the rock, but you haven’t realized it. Where are you going to find it? In your pocket? Your bag? Will you trip over it?

Or will it come crashing down on you like an asteroid hellbent on wiping you out?

And it’s not even the impact that’s the worst part! Sure, this asteroid comes down on you with enough force to kill you, but the shockwave is what really destroys you.

When you have those moments when you forget that your Hajime is dead, the realization of his nonexistence is the asteroid’s impact on you. The cruel realization that his nonexistence is permanent for the remainder of your life is the shockwave.

This cruel one-two punch is devastating. It knocks you down and out, merciless in it’s destruction.

For what it’s worth, Osamu’s solution to dodging that one-two punch is not terrible, although it will have major consequences for his body and mind that he will have to face someday. But you can’t blame him for doing something to avoid the heavy blow.

It does destroy. It does make you feel like you’re drowning. It does nearly kill you.

“Ah, I think she fell asleep.” You’ve been quiet for so long that Osamu thinks you’ve fallen asleep on the phone.

“No, I'm here.” You murmur. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Ah, a dangerous pastime.” Osamu jokes, but it doesn’t quite land. Could be from his full disclosure or from the strained laugh he gives at the end of the sentence.

“It is,” you agree. “But I was thinking about what you said.” He doesn’t respond, letting you continue. “And I just wanted to say...I get it.”

There’s silence on the other end. It’s so quiet that you fear for a second that Osamu has hung up the phone in anger, or maybe he’s drifted off to sleep. But then you hear another breathy exhale, a laugh from a person who is the furthest from laughing.

“Ya know Y/N? I think you’re the only person who does.”

You exhale and close your eyes. You find it hard to open them back up, pure exhaustion taking over your body.

“We’re still on for lunch tomorrow, right?”

“Of course,” Osamu answers. “But ya gotta rest now if ya wanna wake up in time for it.”

A small smile crosses your face. “Sure. Promise me you’ll try to get some sleep too?”

A noncommittal hum is the answer you receive, not ideal but you don’t push him. You feel brittle and fragile, and you’re sure he’s the same.

“Osamu, thank you.” You want to convey how thankful you are, not only that he called you tonight but for coming into your life at a time where you needed a friendly face. You know your gratitude doesn’t come close to covering the vast expanse of your gratefulness but you hope you’ll have time to show him.

“No worries, get some sleep. I’ll see ya tomorrow. Good night Y/N.”

“Good night Osamu.” Your eyes slip close, and you let yourself fall into a dreamless sleep.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: 😔😔 y’all this story is making me Big Sad and I wrote it. 🥲 Thank you so much for reading!!! I should probably mention that the time stamps in the chat and on the tweets and such are accurate - the story is moving right along!

Taglist Open! Please send an Ask with the request to be added to It’s [Not] Okay Fic & SMAU: @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @roro-707 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @cerealfrdinner797 @ara-mitsue @gray-444 @tanakasimpcorner @rintarovibes @jellien @everytimeswift @bongofrito

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cocochannel00 · 3 years

Text

Only Wish (This Year)

All Y/n wants for Christmas this year was Harry to be home... so what happens when Harry can’t make it? (a part of the ‘Christmas song fic challenge’)

Word count: 3k Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

A/N: hello my loves! This is my submission for @goldenbluesuit’s christmas fic challenge, Christmas is literally my favorite holiday of the year and I’m so happy I got a chance to do my first fic writing challenge based on the absolute bop that is Britney Spear’s “Only Wish (This Year)”. If you want to read more great Christmas fics by some amazing writers checkout the Christmas Song Masterlist Here and if you want to read and more of my writing check out My Masterlist Here. I hope you enjoy!!

"Love I think the tree looks a little crooked"

"No, it's not! It looks fine," you grumbled as you tried to fluff one of the branches that was limping to the left a bit. You had just gone out with Anne yesterday to the Christmas tree farm to get it. The two of you spent nearly two hours walking around the field looking for the perfect tree to put in the living room and after your fingers and toes had officially gone completely numb the two of you gave up and settled for the lanky one in the corner of the field that no one wanted. The tree towered over you quite a bit and had a bit of a tilt, but it reminded you a bit of Harry and this Christmas that was what you wanted, him.

"The reindeer you just hung up is about to fall off, Love" he mumbled from the screen of your computer as he face-timed you from the studio in LA. Rushing over to the left side of the tree, you scooped up the ornament quickly just as it was beginning to slide off of the scrawny branch you had placed it on earlier. As you less than gracefully began to pick yourself off the ground, you heard a wolf whistle come from your husband.

"On second thought, if you keep bending down like that I think I might actually like this tree" Harry stated with a smirk as you gave him the middle finger. "Your mom and I picked it out yesterday cause we thought it looked like you. A little lanky, a little scrawny... looks like he just rolled out of bed" you replied with a laugh.

"I'm going to spare my ego and pretend you didn't just compare your beautiful, loving, and supportive husband to that sad drooping tree you have in the corner."

"(Y/n) is that Harry you're talking to in there? Tell him he better be making it home for Christmas Eve dinner or I'm going to be having a stern talking with Jeff" Anne shouted from the kitchen where she was finishing up some cookies for when Gemma and Michal' today.

You could see the color drain from Harry's face as he scratched the back of his neck. You and Harry have been married now for a little over a year but had been dating for well over three, so you know his every tick and giveaway and when Harry begins to scratch and rub at the back of his neck you know it's bad news.

"I've got this really good chorus started with Mitch, but were still trying to figure out whether-"

"Harry"

"We spent all of yesterday working through the tracklist and I think I've narrowed it down to-"

"Harry"

"I think I'm going to end the album with the song I wrote on our honeymoon. I tweaked the melody but it's still-"

"Harry" you whispered for the last time before he finally stopped his rambling. You could see him by the way he was avoiding your stare that he didn't want to say the words you both were dreading. He isn't coming home for Christmas. You both knew it was a possibility when he flew out to LA nearly five weeks ago to finish the album before the new year. Despite Harry's offer of having you come to LA with him, your job didn't allow you the luxury of taking off that much time especially during one of your busiest times of the year. You had held out hope that Kid Harpoon and Harry could tie up all of the loose ends ahead of time, but clearly, that wasn't going to happen.

"I tried baby, I really did. There are just too many little things that need to get done here. I promise I'll try and make it back next week, we can have our own little Christmas together in London" he stated trying the lighten his crushing words. This was supposed to be your first Christmas as a married couple together so to say you were disappointed would be an understatement, but you knew that if you let Harry know he would be on the first flight out to London.

"It's ok, we both knew this could happen. I'm sure Anne and I will spend way too much time fussing over Adelaide to even notice you're not here" you replied back trying to lighten the mood a bit more by mentioning Gemma's adorable two-year-old daughter.

"Stop rubbing it in" he joked as Jeff called his name in the background. "I need to get back in before they all have my head for keeping them here past midnight again. I'll try and sneak another call later tonight if you're still up"

"So good, H. I love you"

"I love you too, (Y/n). See you soon" Harry replied back as he hung up. You closed your laptop and continued your quest to finish decorating your slightly distorted Christmas tree. Securing the lights onto the tree had somehow become the hardest part of decorating the tree, so while you were wrapped in a mess of bulbs and strings you didn't even notice Anne come in with two cups of hot chocolate.

"Oh dear let me give you a hand" Anne muttered as she placed the mugs on the coffee table before rushing to your side, delicately untangling you from the lights while placing each string perfectly in its place. You gave her a quick thanks before you walked over to the couch to admire your work.

"He texted me to check up on you, that crazy son of mine. Swear I love him, but sometimes he's got just no sense of priorities. Leaving his wife all alone for the holidays, just not right" Anne said as she passed you a mug and sat down next to you.

"I appreciate you belittling your son on my behave, but reset assured that I am ok. I'm sad we won't be able to spend our first Christmas together as a married couple, but I'm sure we'll have our own little Christmas once he gets back. Besides, I still get the full week off of work and I get to spend time with you and baby Adelaide for the next couple of days and it will be great!"

"Well if you ever need me to put him in his place you let me know, ok sweetheart? Can't have my favorite daughter-in-law feeling upset" she said as she wrapped her arms around you.

"Thanks, Anne" you replied as you gave her a tight squeeze, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"Anytime dear. Now quick, turn on channel Hollywood Gossip before Gemma shows up, she never lets me watch this show. I heard Lily James was spotted with an ex-boyfriend again"

The two of you spend the next hour catching up on some gossip and making lists of everything that still needed to be done before Christmas in two days. If there was one thing you were certain about, it was that you were going to make the most of your situation and try and have the best Christmas possible

**********

It was Christmas eve and you had spent the entire morning cooking and prepping for the large family meal you and Anne were hosting for Gemma and Michal and a couple of close friends. The two of you had been absolutely buzzing and Christmas tunes had been playing throughout the house since you both woke up bright and earlier at 7 am. You had scoured your suitcase for the perfect Christmas outfit but after spending 20 minutes trying on outfits in the and had settled for one of Harry's red cardigans and some dark washed jeans. The smell of the vanilla candle that smelt just like Harry that Anne had left in your room last night made you miss him even more as you finished getting yourself ready just in time to hear the doorbell ring downstairs.

You peeked out the window and saw Gemma and Michal standing at the door with little Adelaide at their feet and quickly ran to the door to greet them. Once you opened the front door a pair of small arms wrapped themselves around your legs as Adalaide screamed your name.

"Well hello, my sweet girl. I missed you so much! Did you miss me?" you asked as she nodded quickly. You picked her up carefully and smothered her face in kisses just as Anne came over to greet everyone. The five of you made your way out of the foyer and into the kitchen as Gemma wrapped her arms tightly around you and dragged you to the far end of the kitchen.

"Good afternoon my favorite sister. How is the married life treating you? Any surprises I should be worried about this Christmas?" she asked as she stole a Christmas cookie off of one of Anne's various dessert displays.

"It's been very nice, thank you. I don't think you'll be having any surprises from me this Christmas"

"Pitty I was hoping they be able to be in the same class as their cousin could go to school together," she said nonchalantly smirking at you as you stood there confused.

'What do you mean cousins? Adelaide already in day-care and I don't-- Oh my gosh Gemma are you -"

"Shh don't say it out loud, but yes. About eight weeks along, but we haven't told anyone yet. I'm telling you because last time I told you everything went well, so I think you're my good luck charm... and I need you to drink all of the shots Chloe tries to feed me tonight" She mumbled as you laugh and give her a big hug.

"Well congratulations Gem, I wish you both the best. Hey Adelaide, did you know what special person is going to be joining you really soon?" you asked the little girl in your arms as she played with the butterfly necklace Harry had gotten you for your second anniversary together.

"Santa"

"You're right baby Santa is coming tonight. Why don't you help me and Nana Anne finish decorating these last cookies before everyone gets here"

**********

The night was fantastic. After all of the guests had arrived, you all sat down to eat the wonderful roast Anne had been making all day. The room was filled with laughter and smiles as people recounted their most embarrassing Christmas stories. Your favorite was Michal's who as a child got so excited about seeing Santa at the mall that he actually peed on Santa's lap while telling him what he wanted for Christmas. Gemma discreetly slid her shot glass to you numerous times throughout the night and despite the questioning looks coming from Chloe, no one questioned Gemma's excuse of being the designated driver this year. Overall it was by far one of your favorite holiday meals to be a part of, you only wish Harry could have been there to share it with you.

"Me pants are about to explode, but does anyone fancy a little Christmas Eve stroll outside?" Michal asked as he cuddled a sleeping Adelaide to his chest.

There was a chorus of agreements and your large group slowly began to clean up their placemats and prepare themselves for the trek out in the snow. You helped Gemma load the dishwasher as Anne distributed Tupperware for everyone to take leftovers home with them before running upstairs to grab your winter jacket and boots. After everyone was all bundled up, you all headed outside into the snow, Gemma, and Michal leading the way as walked along the sidewalk. You watched the way Gemma placed a snowflake on Adelaide's nose and waited for the little girl to giggle before quickly wiping it off just to do it all over again. You continued to watch the interaction with a yearning in your heart at the thought of having your own kids with Harry and being able to take them on walks and show them ordinary things like snowflakes. Just as you had begun to drift off into your subconscious world Anne came up next to you and wrapped her arms with yours.

"That will be you someday, I can just feel it" Anne stated as she squeezed your hand tight. You gave her a small smile and nodded your head.

"I hope so. Just have to get your son to stay in one spot long enough" you joked as you rubbed your hands together for warmth.

"That man worships the grown you walk on, Love. If you tell him you want kids right now he'll drop everything"

"Hopefully when I get him back next week we can talk about it all a bit more" you replied as Anne nodded her head.

Your walk lasted about a half-hour until Adelaide began to cry saying she was tired and wanted to go to bed. You all preceded to head back into Anne's home for a bit to warm up before everyone would drive back to their respective homes to continue to celebrate their Christmases. Being the busy body that you were, you began to make tea for everyone in the hope of avoiding the dreaded interrogation about Harry and your's relationship that always came towards the end of these gatherings, but it never came. You think Anne must have warned them that you were feeling somewhat sad about Harry not being there because they managed to avoid the topic throughout the rest of the night. Just as the clock struck midnight everyone slowly began to say their goodbyes and exchanging any last-minute gifts that needed to be given. You helped Anne gather everyone's things and waved your last goodbyes before heading into the living room to relax a bit.

"I'm a bit wiped out dear so I think I'm going to head to bed early. Will you be ok here by yourself?" Anne asked cautiously as you scrolled through some pictures Harry had sent you the other day of him at the studio.

"Yes, I think I'll be ok. Have a good night Anne and thank you for a wonderful Christmas"

"No thanks needed dear, you're family now and always will be. I'll see you in the morning".

You waved a quick goodbye as Anne left upstairs to her room. The silence downstairs was only making your feelings of missing Harry worse so you decided to put on the TV and watch a Christmas movie to lift your spirits a bit as you cuddled Harry's picture to your chest. You know he was having Christmas Eve dinner with Jeff's family now and you didn't want to bother him so you decided that you would suck it up and wait until tomorrow to call him and tell him how much you really miss him. All you wanted this Christmas was to have him sitting next to you, sipping on a couple of hot chocolate and making fun of your weirdly patterned socks.

You hoped that flipping through the tv channels would help distract you but the minute you started channel surfing and Love Actually popped up on the screen in front of you, the waterworks began. You cried because you missed Harry. You cried because you didn't get to share all of your happy memories of today with him. You cried because you could cuddle him to sleep and wake up to his delicious scent. There you sat in his childhood home wrapped in a fuzzy blanket crying. You sobbed into the blanket as quietly as you could in the hopes of not waking up Anne and after what felt like an eternity, you finally fell asleep on the couch

*********

You were peacefully asleep on the couch until the sound of music blasting from the kitchen speaker startled you awake.

“I signed my letter that I sealed with a kiss I sent it off, and just said this...”

"Oh, fucking shit. Stupid fucking Tom calling me at..." you heard as a crash came from the kitchen.

You jumped from your curled up position on the couch and turned around to see where the noise was coming from. As you sank deeper into the couch hoping not to be seen, you saw a silhouette moving around the kitchen searching the drawers. Your pulse began to race as you start to run all of the potential ways in which this intruder could kill you right now. Just as you were about to reach for your phone to call 999, the intruder turned on the light and you saw a familiar head of curly hair.

"Jesus fucking christ Harry nearly gave me a heart attack" you stated as Harry nearly jumped out of his skin.

The two of you stared at each other for a while before you finally processed what was going on. Harry was here. Harry had made it. He was here for Christmas. He came. You all but sprinted off of the couch and launched yourself at him, hearing release gasp as you latched on to his body like a koala.

"Nearly gave me a heart attack there, love" he stated as he wrapped his arms around you and ran his hands through your hair.

"I could say the same thing. Who comes home after midnight and doesn't say anything, especially when said person said many times that they weren't going to be to make it home"

"Wasn't supposed to be home but then mom said you looked upset after our call yesterday so I told Jeff I would finish the rest in the London studio and zoom call any last-minute details. Excited to have me home?" he asked with a smirk.

"No" you stated trying to hide your excitement.

"Come on Love, don't lie to me. I'm excited to be home. Get to spend Christmas with my beautiful, smart, kind, amazing wife. Get to shower her with gifts. Best Christmas ever"

"Definitely best Christmas ever" you mumbled back as you leaned in and kissed him, savoring the taste of his lips after so long.

"I have one more surprise for you that I think you'll like" he stated as he broke away from the kiss.

"What" you whined as he laughed at you.

"Told Columbia that I'd make the record, but that I'm not releasing it till the end of next year. Want to settle down a bit more, gain more stability in case..." he trailed off as he cheeks turned pink.

"In case what?" you asked innocently even though you knew exactly what he was insinuating.

"In case you want to try for a baby like we talked about on our honeymoon. Said you wanted more stability from me before we started trying so this me giving you that. Don't want to pressure you or anything and this is your choice and I don't- "

"Yes," you whispered.

"Yes?" he questioned before you nodded your head and wrapped your arms around his neck.

Tears appeared in his eyes as he spun you around the kitchen. You laughed as he chanted "baby baby baby" quietly as to not wake Anne but the joy in his expression spoke volumes. You were both ready for this next chapter in your life and whatever happens next, as long as you were together, you knew everything would be ok.

“Hey babe” you whispered as Harry continued to cheer quielty.

“Yes, Love?”

“Is Britney Spears your ringtone?”

“Maybe... It’s festive!” he defended as you laughed

“Ok love, whatever you say”

Hope you all enjoyed and happy early Christmas to all who celebrate and a Happy Holidays everyone!!

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