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yee-fxcking-haw · 3 years

Text

What Are You?

A/N: All I have to say is I'm really proud of this fic, so much freaking fun to write. I am hopelessly devoted to Kirishima. Please let me know what you think! For the tags, I just tagged those that interacted with the post I made about starting this series, if you wanted added or removed just let me know!

Summary: A movie night gets a little out of hand, next thing you know you're losing your virginity to Kirishima.

Pairing: Pro Hero Kirishima x FemReader (you) both aged up 18+

Warnings: First time, virginity loss, virgin reader, experienced Kirishima, LOTS of consent, oral (female receiving) size kink, daddy kink, rough sex, spanking, choking, belly buldge, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, degredation, dumbification if you squint, very mushy aftercare in the shower, I think that's all of them lmao.

Word Count: 9,304

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The movie you had started is long forgotten, the sounds fading into white noise as your eyelids drift shut. Your body feels like lead, and your brain is quickly turning off. You feel like you could melt into the bed and stay there for several days. You snuggle into Kirishima a little more, barely processing the contented hum he lets out when you do.

"You fallin' asleep sweetheart?" He mumbles against the top of your head, finishing his sentence with a gentle kiss.

"Nah, just resting my eyes." You lie, very aware of how quickly sleep is overtaking your exhausted body.

"Want me to drive you home?" He asks, one hand coming up so he can run his fingers through your hair.

You just shake your head weakly, not ready to remove yourself from his warmth. You really just want to stay, but you two haven't really crossed that line yet. You've been dating for a few months now, but you move painfully slow. You blame it on your lack of experience over all. Being a virgin in your first relationship has definitely come with a lot of caution and slow progress.

Kirishima has been absolutely incredible though, always letting you set the pace, always asking questions, and offering reassurance when needed. You've both definitely had some close calls though, with how much time you spend together and how irresistible he is, it's been hard to keep your hands off of him. You've had your fair share of handsy makeout sessions, but that's about it.

Today does feel a little different though, like there's been some kind of shift. Maybe it's the right time to take that next step, Kirishima has definitely proven himself to be worthy of your trust. You're confident that he would stop when needed, go as slow as you asked him to, and be there for you after.

As your mind races you wrap your arms around the wall of muscle beside you, cherishing the security his large body gives you. You sigh and shift your head so your chin is resting on his chest, allowing you to glance up at him. As always, you're floored by his beauty. His scarlet eyes meet yours as his lips twitch up into a fond smirk. He's definitely the rugged kind of handsome, small white scars litter his face from his few years of hero work.

The most noticeable scar is the one on his upper lip, about two inches in length as it travels up away from his pretty mouth. Your hand absentmindedly reaches up so you can run your thumb over it while you cup his face. He melts into your touch, turning to place a kiss on your palm. Your entire body lights up when he does, he's always giving you sweet little kisses, and you love it more than life itself.

"Whatcha lookin' at my busted face for?" He teases.

You smile coyly as you slide your leg around his hip, slowly bringing yourself up so you can straddle him. You slide your other hand up to hold his face as well, leaning down to press a kiss into his forehead.

"It's a beautiful face." You whisper as you sit back up so you can look down at him again.

God, the sight of him. Wild crimson hair falling across the pillow, stunning porcelain skin offering a marvelous contrast. Your hands slide down his neck, to his collar bones, then down his clothed torso. You mentally curse the black t-shirt that's currently hiding his skin from you, even though he looks incredible in it.

"What are you thinking about hon?" He asks quietly.

Your eyes flash up to his and he gives you a knowing look.

Does he feel it too? You've had plenty of long talks about it, he's always been open about how much he wants to make sure it's a safe experience. He offers you nothing but stability and assurance. The nerve wracking part is that he's so experienced. You're not jealous that he's been with people before you, just worried that you won't live up to them. Kiri has always been very open about his past relationships, just like you have with yours. It's just a matter of finding the confidence to take the next step.

"Oh, you're thinking too much." He says quietly, grabbing your hands to pull them apart.

You hadn't even realized you'd begun to pick at your thumb, but of course he's paying attention.

"Can I stay?" You blurt out, sounding a little too panicked.

"You can always stay." He says as he wraps his arms around your waist, then brings his mouth to press innocent kisses into your neck.

"Baby?" You say, hands carding through his hair.

He only hums, lips still working against your sensitive skin.

"Can we try?" You ask quietly.

Your eyes lock, tension builds, and hands tighten as you both silently understand your heavy implications.

"Are you sure?" He asks with all the sincerity he has.

"I love you, Kiri, I trust you." You breathe out, letting your head fall to rest your forehead against his own.

"If you need me to stop at any point you tell me, understand?" He says with a tone you can't quite decipher. It could be called firm, but that's not exactly right… convicted, he sounds convicted.

"Of course, Red." His body responds to his hero name in the most beautiful way. Muscles tense as he takes a deep breath in, steady arms pull your body towards his. Very suddenly, but some also not soon enough, your lips are on his. Brilliant, rose colored warmth spreads through your veins as he kisses the breath out of your lungs.

"Can I lay you on your back?" He asks against your lips.

"Please." You sigh.

In one swift movement, he scoops you into his arms and spins you around so he can lay you gently on the mattress. One hand stays on your waist, while the other comes up to hold your face.

"I love you, you know that right?" He asks, when you look into his eyes your heart aches when you see all the begging in them.

"Kiri, I've never been more sure of anything." You assure him.

He gives you his thousand watt smile and you can't help but return it. This man is something else. He's the kind that lights up a room, that gives when he's empty, and loves relentlessly. Most of all, he's completely, inexplicably yours.

Your head spins when he dips his head down to kiss your collar bones.

"I'm gonna get you real worked up, ok?" He says then presses one long kiss into your shoulder.

Excitement blasts through your veins. What a beautiful promise he's just made, and you can't wait for him to live up to his word.

"I need you to tell me what feels good." He whispers against your skin as his hands come up so push your tank top up your torso.

"Ok." You reply, cursing yourself for how basic the response is. He's probably used to people who can dirty talk like no tomorrow, and all you can manage are weak one word responses.

"You're thinkin' too much honey." He says with a deep chuckle, his hands halt once he has the fabric bunched at your ribs.

"Talk to me." He says.

"I'm just nervous. Insecurities and all that, worried I won't live up to other people. You know, stupid virgin thoughts." You stumble through the sentence, barely articulating the nerves buzzing around in your abdomen.

"Listen to me." Kiri says with his firm, guiding tone.

"It's just you now. Not them, never will be them again." He brings one of your hands up so he can kiss your knuckles.

"You're my girl, that's all that's on my mind."

The reassurance is short and sweet, but Kiri is always like that with his words. He says it like it is, but there's always immeasurable heart behind what he says, so it's enough to still your nerves.

"Can I make you feel good now?" He asks, face slightly mischievous.

"I think you know the answer." You can't help but giggle when his fingers meet your ribs again to finish taking off your tank top.

Soon he's got you panting and grasping at the sheets. Your clothes are long gone, and he is definitely staying true to his promise to get you worked up. Rough hands are on your waist, while his hot, wet mouth trails across the tops of your breasts. The more time he spends kissing your body, the easier it is to let the nerves die out. Every ounce of uncertainty vanishes the second his soft lips wrap around one of your nipples.

"Oh, baby." You sigh, back arching slightly.

"Like that?" He asks, breaking only briefly. Soon his mouth is back on you, tongue drawing lazy circles around your sensitive buds.

"Yeah…" You find yourself wishing you could respond better again, but your mind is mush.

"How bout this?" He asks as he slides his other hand up to pinch your other nipple.

You rub your thighs together to try and alleviate some of the pressure building in your core. You have to be embarrassingly soaked at this point. After just a few seconds of nipple play, you're already throbbing and it's maddening.

"Kiri." You groan, the friction of his fingers contrasting wonderfully with the smooth movements of his tongue.

You want to feel him everywhere, you want to be overwhelmed by him. The way his tongue is working, you can only imagine him using it somewhere else.

"K-kiri?" You say with a shuddering breath.

"Yeah angel?" He answers, his hand still playing with you a little.

"Lower, please?" Your voice is so shy and timid, and you feel the hot blush spread across your cheeks.

"You're so fuckin' cute." He mumbles before planting an open mouthed kiss between your breasts.

With the same slow, teasing pace, he kisses down your stomach. He stops right under your belly button and glances up at you through his lashes. He's fucking stunning from this angle, but you've found that he really doesn't have a bad angle.

"I'm gonna try something, ok? Tell me how it makes you feel." He says calmly.

"Aye Aye Captain." You say, earning a sweet little chuckle from Kiri.

Any motivation you have to joke is thrown out the window when he nips your sensitive skin. The brief pain sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your pussy, and your walls clench immediately.

"How was that?" He asks, hands running along your hips as he settles between your spread legs.

"More please." Is all you can squeak out.

Kirishima just smiles and kisses where he's just nipped.

"In a little bit baby."

You become suddenly aware of how exposed you are and you're plagued with thoughts of insecurity. As if he can read your mind, Kiri places a kiss to your inner thigh.

"Can I please taste you, your pussy is so fuckin pretty." He sighs against your skin.

Oh yeah, you have to be absolutely dripping. His words have you clenching around nothing, you're so worked up you're worried you might finish as soon as he makes contact with your core.

"Fuck- please Kiri- use your mouth on me." You moan, shocked by your own boldness.

"Oh good girl, keep talkin' to me." He sighs.

Without any further warning his mouth is just all over you. No gentle kisses around your clit like you expected, not teasing fingers on your lips. Just as sudden, blinding pleasure rocketing through your walls as his skilled tongue laps at your sensitive, swollen clit.

"Kiri! Shit!" You cry as your hands find a place in his hair, desperate to hold onto something that can keep you grounded.

"Baby, I'm too sensitive, I'm not gonna- oh fuuuuck." You try to warn him, but the words never stood a chance at leaving your mouth. In the middle of your sentence, he presses one thick finger into your slick hole, and that spells the end for you. With how big Kiri is, his finger might as well be the size of an average man's dick, and it feels incredible. You can't hold it in, and you don't fucking want to. Between the constant, white hot pleasure he's giving your clit, and the sudden intrusion of his finger, your inexperienced body never stood a chance.

"Fuck that was gorgeous." He huffs against your cunt.

Your walls flutter their way through your orgasm, warmth oozing into all of your appendages as Kirishima slows his tongue down enough for you to ride out all of the aftershocks.

You gather enough strength to look down at him, and your blissed out brain wants to shred the shirt he's wearing. Your hands reach down desperately to grab the collar of his shirt in an attempt to pull it off.

"Where'd my shy girl go?" He teases before helping you get rid of his bothersome clothes.

"She left when you made her cum in under a minute." You share a soft laugh with each other, but anything light-hearted disappears when you look down at his briefs and see the outline of his dick.

Kirishima isn't a small man, standing up he's roughly seven feet. You're a relatively average sized woman, but you still feel like a dwarf next to him. Judging by the outline in his underwear, he's definitely proportionate, and the terrifying realization that he's probably not even all the way hard yet makes your stomach drop.

"You want that?" He asks coyly, red eyebrows shooting up as he grins down at you.

"It- it's gonna hurt, isn't it?" You stutter, hands balling up the bedding underneath you.

"It's gonna sting just a little bit, but I told you I'll get you worked up, and it'll only last a second princess." He kisses your nose for reassurance, putting your bubbling chest at ease for a moment.

"Can I- um- can I touch you? Please?" Again, you want to kick yourself for sounding so bashful, but Kiri seems to be incredibly fond of it.

"Of course you can, wherever you want to." He whispers, he leans down to brace on his elbows, his breathtaking body closing the remaining distance between you two. With him looming above you like this, you feel absolutely tiny, like if he put his weight on you it might crush you. Something tells you tomorrow is probably going to consist of a lot of bed rest.

You cautiously slide your hands over his carved abs, adoring the way his muscles tense under your feathery touches. Your eyes stay locked on his and your heart blooms with exhilaration. Your hands travel down his body until your fingertips brush the waistband of his briefs. Kiri takes in a sharp breath when you dip your fingers under the material. You steal a glance down, and you can't help but let your jaw drop.

He's gotta be the size of your forearm, at least. Shit, how the hell are you gonna fucking take that? You remind yourself that Kiri promised it would only hurt for a second, that he would take care of you. You trust him, completely.

He helps you slide his briefs off, and when he's finally free it makes you see stars. His full length falls against your stomach, and he feels so damn heavy. His base is resting against your mound, and his head meets your belly button. His skin is nothing short of beautiful, soft pink tip with a pale shaft littered with veins.

"Holy shit." You pant, your hand looks pathetic when you go to wrap it around his swollen tip.

"It might sting more than a little." You whisper.

"I'll make it feel good, I promise." He says with all the confidence in the world.

He's so unbelievably hard and your hand can't reach all the way around him. There's about an inch and a half between your middle finger and thumb where they should meet. You never thought you'd be so intimidated by a simple body part, but then again, this is Red Riot you're dealing with.

Before you can stroke him, Kiri is grabbing your wrist as he shifts to lean on his side next to you.

"Next time angel, tonight's about you." He says before kissing the skin behind your ear.

His hand lets go of your wrist so he can skate his fingertips down your stomach. As soon as he brushes your clit your body jumps, still so sensitive from the sudden orgasm he's just given you. You take in deep breaths as your legs shift anxiously while he dips his fingers down so he can run them up your soaked lips.

"You're so wet for me." He sighs against your neck.

"Kiri- please- make me feel good again." You whimper, desperate for his touch.

"Gonna stretch you out a little bit, ok? Gotta get you ready to take me." He mumbles as he presses his middle finger into your quivering hole again.

There's no way you can respond, all ability to speak is stolen from you when he starts to pump his massive finger in and out of you.

There's no stretch with just one finger, it's no bigger than the toy you usually use on yourself, the stretch comes when he adds his index finger to the mix. It doesn't sting, but there's definitely some pressure. You screw your eyes shut and reach for his forewarn as he picks up speed, needing something to hold onto as the pleasure builds in your lower stomach again.

Then, the spectacular feeling of his thumb pressing against your clit makes you cry out. You're shocked by the broken moan that rips out of your throat, and the way your hips roll against his hand while he starts rubbing urgent circles against your sweet spot.

"That's it baby, tell me about it." He pants against your shoulder, it almost sounds like he's cheering you on, voice filled with something joyful that makes your heart race impossibly faster.

"Kiri- that feels so fucking good- shit."

Your cunt starts to pulse around him like it did a few minutes ago, your body is already right on the edge again by his capable fingers.

"D- da- Kiri." You moan, you almost fucking slip. You want nothing more than to call him 'daddy', that's what he is to you right now. You don't know how he'll respond to it, so you swallow the name and cry out against his broad chest.

He seems to have caught you though, both his thumb and his fingers pick up their speed slightly.

"Say it, please baby, say it- fuck." He begs against your head, offering you the room to call him whatever you want to.

Your hand claws at his arm, the other reaches up to hold onto his sweaty neck.

"Daddy, please make me cum again, your fingers feel so good." Your voice increases in pitch the more you beg, he sets a delicious rhythm then, reacting immediately to your pleas.

"You wanna be a good girl for me?" He asks as he shifts so his free hand can cradle your face.

You nod weakly as your abs starts to seize up and your core starts to clamp down on his pistoning fingers.

"Look at me." He huffs, your eyes flutter open to meet his.

Kirishima has a habit of knocking the wind out of you with his beauty, but he damn near kills you this time. He's positively enchanting with the blush on his cheeks, brows furrowed as he focuses on bringing you to your second orgasm.

"Cum for me one more time angel, then I'm gonna fill you up, gonna fuck your pretty little cunt." His voice is dripping with desire, and his vulgar words are all it takes to send you right into another trembling orgasm. Your body twitches and jerks as your core squeezes his fingers. He stops thrusting them into you and focuses all his energy on rubbing your clit with his thumb, making everything so much more intense.

You moan and shake against him as he whispers things like "good girl, just like that" against your ear while you come back down.

All you want is more, so much more. There's no such thing as nerves now. You have tunnel vision for Kiri and the pleasure he's giving you. Even after two orgasms, all you want is more, more, more.

"Daddy please- fuck my little cunt- fill me up like you promised." You grab at him wherever you can, you almost second guess your dirty talk, but Kiri eats that shit up.

"You sound so pretty begging for me princess. You want me to fuck you, huh? Want Daddy to make you cry?" Everything about his demeanor has a sense of urgency to it. Not like he's rushing, but like he's handling something vitally important.

You just nod and whimper, it's all you're capable of after being rocked by two incredible orgasms. He's moving so he can settle between your legs again, and his weighty length hits your stomach again.

"Listen to me sweetheart." He says, voice shaking slightly at the end.

"I'm gonna let you put it in ok? I want you to tell me when to move and when to stop, we can even stop here if you need to." He moves his hands to hold your face, thumbs brushing your cheek bones affectionately.

"I don't want you to stop, I want more Kiri, please." You say, completely confident in your decision to keep going.

"Then it's all you babygirl." He smiles down at you, all warmth and adoration.

You swallow thickly and reach down to grab his pink head, nearly drooling when you see the ridiculous amount of precum leaking out of his tip.

You tentatively spread it around with your thumb, the appendage barely stretches across the width of his massive cock. Kiri's breath speeds up above you as you move your hand around his head so you can push him down between your legs. Now, with a clear view of him, he's definitely the size of your forearm. Nerves are replaced by excitement, knowing that once he's inside you and your body adjusts to him, it'll feel absolutely amazing.

Kirishima shifts above you so he can brace on his hands as he placed them on either side of your face. All his intricate muscles shift under his pale skin, he's so broad and handsome, it makes your head spin.

With very little skill, you run his tip along you dripping lips, and both of you jolt as the erotic contact.

"That feels good baby, nice and slow." His words egg you on, a fuzzy feeling buzzes around in your chest when you hear him praise you, it's something else you just want more of.

His head teases over your silky hole as you slide him further down, his fingers definitely got you worked up, but it's still gonna be one hell of a tight fit.

"Can you- um- could you move your hips forward a little?" You ask with a shaking voice, your body is sparking with the anticipation of having him fill you, and you know he won't be able to slide in unless he helps by pushing.

"Want me to help you put it in?" He asks, his voice sounds so light and breathy.

"Please?" You blink up at him.

"Just keep talkin' to me, yeah?" He pants out.

"Ye- Oh fuck Daddy!" What's meant to be a quiet answer, turns into an erotic cry. Your body shivers as the name slips from your lips and your hands fly to his sides. He didn't give you a single second to respond before pressing himself into you, and it definitely hurts more than a little. The sting of the stretch is almost enough to make you tap out, but then you feel his thumb dragging against your clit again. It gives you just enough pleasurable relief to catch your breath.

"Sorry angel, had to get that part over with." He says before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"Red, baby, please-" You choke on a moan when his thumb speeds up and he presses even more of his length into you.

"Please what?" He teases.

He can't even be a third of the way in, and you feel like you're completely stuffed. Your walls are being stretched to what feels like their absolute limit. Now you know why he gave you two orgasms beforehand, you need to be absolutely drenched in order to take him. Even then, it's almost impossible.

You glance down to see how much more you have to take. Fucking hell, it looks like it's just his head that's in.

"Tell me what you need, gorgeous." He applies slightly more pressure to your clit, but slows the pace down.

"More." You mewl, despite the pressure on your poor, tense insides.

"I'll tell you if it's too much, just keep going, please Daddy." Your hands paw at his back, desperate for him to move.

"Fuck baby- you're gonna be such a mess by the time I'm done with you."

You don't have any time at all to catch your breath or answer him. The sting is almost blazing as he pushes his hips towards yours. The dizzying sensation of his veiny cock dragging against your slick walls is enough to bring tears to your eyes. You whimper and sniffle beneath him while every muscle in your body tenses.

Then, you remember to breathe. You pull in a long, cooling breath, and on the release let your muscles relax. You look up at Kiri to see him looking down to where your bodies meet, mesmerized by the way he's splitting you open. He looks so wrapped up in his love for you, which only allows you to let go of more tension.

He keeps pressing into you, little by little pain is replaced by a warm ache, that warm ache then replaced by traces of something pleasurable. The hand pressing lazy circles into your clit slides up to grab your wrist. His bright eyes flash up to your as he brings your hand down to the bundle of nerves.

"Rub it for me, baby." He whispers before kissing your temple, his deep, rumbling voice makes your thighs squeeze his hips.

"O- ok." You fumble your words slightly.

"Is that how you answer Daddy?" He trails his open mouth down to the skin just above your collarbone, then teases the delicate skin with his pointed teeth.

Holy shit.

"Yes- yes sir?" You say, head spinning as you try to focus even a little bit. Your hand haplessly moves against your clit, wanting to listen but your motor skills are rendered useless by Kiri's dominance.

"Mhm, good girl." He praises before sinking his teeth into the spot he's been teasing.

Your entire body jumps, reacting exactly how he wants you to. All twitches and moans as he guides you through this.

"You're so fucking tight." He sighs, eyes fluttering shut as he pushes in just a little more.

"Well yeah, you're the size of a house and I'm a virgin." You say with a weak laugh.

If you and Kiri can do anything, it's laugh.

He looks down at you and raises his eyebrows, and he can't help but giggle in that beautiful chirpy way he always does. You take his hands in your face and bring him down for a messy, laugh filled kiss. Blinding love fills your chest, hearing him laugh, feeling him breathe, being this close. It's all giving you such unparalleled joy.

He breaks the kiss to press his forehead into yours, then he really starts moving. What started as another round of giggles turns into a moan as he stretches you more and more. Your hands grab onto his neck as your eyes screw shut and your head is thrown back into the pillows. The pressure is positively mind numbing in the best way. All you can feel, smell, and taste is Kirishima as he rocks your world.

“Fucking hell, Kiri.” You gasp before rolling your hips up against him, finally feeling somewhat stretched out enough to work with him.

“Oh now you’re gettin’ it, keep movin’ with me sweetheart.” He nods his head while he talks, urgent and reassuring.

He continues his glacial pace, finally bottoming out with the help of your needy hips rising to meet his. God, you feel so fucking full. You swear you can feel him in your stomach, in your ribs, in your throat even. He’s not leaving a single inch of you untouched, and you’re absolutely hooked. You gather yourself enough to open your eyes again so you can look down at where you two meet, almost nervous to find that he really isn’t all the way in even though you feel like you’re going to break at any second.

“Holy. Shit.” As soon as you glance down, your eyes meet the most erotic sight you’ve ever witnessed. There’s a large bulge in your stomach, that is very obviously caused by one thing. Kiri smirks above you as he runs a hand up your side so he can gather your breast in his hand and tease your nipple with his thumb.

“Ain’t that somethin’?” He muses, sliding his hand back down to grab your wrist so he can move your hand over the stretched out part of your stomach.

“Feels good doesn’t it baby? I’m right there, that’s all me.” He presses your hand into the bulge, and the feeling of his head under your skin, combined with the pressure on your cervix and against your walls, nearly sends you into another orgasm. Your walls flutter around him as your bottom lip quivers.

That’s when you see the tension in his body, you hear the strain in his voice. He’s holding back, he’s going easy on you.

Your walls are relaxing, growing used to the obscene stretch. You take a deep breath and focus on releasing any other muscles that might make it harder for him to do what he needs to. As you settle, you bat your eyelashes at him. You offer another small roll of your hips before egging him on with your needy words.

“Daddy, please, you’re not gonna break me, fuck me like you want to.”

He gives you a very serious, almost stern look. It doesn’t help ease your need for him in the slightest, it only makes you want to push more.

“I’ll tell you if it hurts, I promise, please just fuck me."

His whole body shivers when you run your nails across his shoulders.

"Baby you gotta, if you don't tell me I'm gonna keep rockin', I don't want to hurt you."

You nod and swallow thickly, your body is absolutely buzzing with the anticipation.

"Words sweet thing, use your words. You'll tell me if it hurts, yeah?" He brings his hips back, and the drag of his cock along your walls is exquisite. He only moves maybe an inch, but the tease sends you reeling.

"Yes Daddy, I'll tell you." Your promise is said so sweetly, the way you trust him so completely sends him over the edge.

Just like that, your entire world shatters. He pulls back slowly, just to send his hips flying forward with one brutal thrust. It doesn't hurt, but there's so much fucking pressure once he's all the way pressed in. Your head is sent back into the pillows, thrashing wildly as you cry out and cling to his tense back. He doesn't stay there long though, only pausing briefly to savor the feeling of being fully wrapped in your hot, wet cunt.

"Open those legs for me princess." Kiri pants above you as he pulls back again.

You realize how much you've tensed up after his words pull you back down to earth. Your thighs had clamped around his hips like a vice. Slowly, you breathe in, then drop your legs open when you breathe out.

Then he sticks to his promise, and he starts rockin'. He sets a beautiful pace, it's not rushed or hard, not slow or teasing, it's just fucking perfect. He plunges into you over and over, deep and persistent. He hits every sweet spot you have, from your sensitive opening to your aching cervix. You mewl and twitch under him, your whole body being jolted every time he bottoms out.

"You're doin' so good baby, bein' such a good girl for Daddy." His voice breaks as he picks up speed, splitting you open completely.

It's turning your brain to total mush, all you can manage is a half ass "uh-huh" while your body moves like a ragdoll. You feel so full, and it feels so fucking good. It's all so foreign, so much, so overwhelming. Now that you're feeling it though, the feeling of being well and truly fucked, all you want is more.

The pressure just keeps building at your core, brilliant and warm. Sending electric shocks down the nerves in your legs, up your stomach, even through your fingertips. He's everywhere inside you, filling your mind and soul, you're drunk on Kirishima and more than willing to become addicted.

You blink open and grapple at his damp sides, as soon as you see your body being pounded into the bed, you feel your walls begin to tighten. Can you even call it that? You're so stretched out by him it's hard to tell if you're even capable of tightening around him.

Kiri sure seems to notice though, letting out short, pretty moans from the back of his throat each time he sinks in. Then you both see it, your eyes lock on it, both under a perverted trance. Each time he thrusts all the way in, your stomach buldges out a little, his incredible size displacing your insides as he fucks into you.

"God that's- fuck baby- you see that?" He stutters out, placing his massive hand on your waist so he can lay his thumb over your stomach and feel his cock head poking out from inside of you.

All you can do is gawk up at him and let your body be jostled by him as he continues to break in your body.

"How's it feel angel?" He asks, voice gentle and coaxing.

"So. Good. Daddy- fuck." You stutter out, the words come out choppy, cut off as you jolt from his pace.

"You feel so perfect, so fucking perfect." He mutters before diving down to press his open mouth to your neck.

He attempts to kiss you there, but all he can manage is a sloppy, inconsistent tongue against your skin. With his mouth open, you can hear all his sweet moans unabashed, and it's fucking beautiful.

A particularly broken sounding moan reaches your ears as Kiri grabs the meat of your thighs with his strong hands, angling your legs upwards a little more. His hands slide up to secure themselves under your knees, pressing them upwards he successfully folds you in half.

The tops of your thighs press into your sides as he braces himself up a little more, using your crumbled body as leverage. The second he sinks in from this new position, your thighs tremble and your cunt spasms. You cry out as your hands fly to his abs, almost pushing him back, overwhelmed by the intensity.

Overwhelmed, but so enraptured. Tears prick your eyes as you watch every muscle of his ripple as he works hard to fuck you this relentlessly.

"Talk to me sweetheart, how's it feel?" He asks, voice strained and unsteady.

"Feels- so- fuckin- good- Daddy." You all but sob, blinking the tears from your eyes as your jaw drops.

"You're such a good little girl, you look so pretty on your back."

His words hit a nerve you didn't know you had. The filthy praise, the sounds of his hot skin slapping yours with each thrust, the crushing grip he has on you, it's all awakening something deep in your chest. More, you need more.

"M-more- fuck- please give me more- I'm so close." Is all you can manage as the tears start to fall, wetting your rosey cheeks.

"Shit- give it to me baby, let go, I'll fuck you through it, just let go." He eggs you on. One of his arms shifts to hook your knee over his elbow as he sets the other beside your head to brace himself.

As soon as he releases that one leg, bending the other up even more as his thumb gets to work drawing figure eights on your clit, it's fucking over. You shiver and sob and claw. The most spectacular sensation you've ever felt takes over your entire body.

It captures every inch of your skin, wrapping it in velvety ecstasy. Your nerves shatter like glass, sending shards of pleasure flying in every direction. You can feel it up your spin, in the backs of your legs, and deep down in your chest.

Your body goes limp as your walls pulse around him, and he sure does fuck you through it. Your head flops back as you take it all, cherishing every sharp hit to your abused cervix.

"Gimme one more princess, I'm almost there." He moans, pulling your brain out of its stew.

You blink up at him, finally realizing how hard you're crying. As soon as you make eye contact, your heart nearly flies out of your ribcage. He's so fucking beautiful. Brows drawn together in a look of pure determination, skin dewy and flushed, bright ruby eyes looking at you like you hung the stars.

"I love you- fuck Kiri- I love you, I love you, I love you." You babble, hands sliding up tangle in the hair at the back of his head.

His eyes flutter at the sensation, nearly rolling back into his head. Kirishima is a slut for gentle touches like that, a trait that makes your heart go all gooey.

"I love you so much more angel." He sighs, eyes full of fondness and what you can only describe as home.

He's still fucking going. Pounding into you just as before, and your cunt is somehow taking it so well. You feel made for him, nobody else.

"Poor baby." He says as he brings a hand up to your cheek to wipe some tears.

The slight mocking tone sets a fire in your belly, another feeling to add to the endless list of things you're learning about yourself tonight.

"Did Daddy fuck you too good? Can't help but fuckin' cry about it?" His voice is back to straining, shoulders drawing up again, like he's trying to hold back.

Oh hell no.

"Y- yes Daddy, fucked me so good, you ruined this little pussy." You shock yourself with the vulgarity of your words, almost embarrassed by it. It's short lived though, given the way Kiri huffs out a gorgeous, "oh fuck", as he buckels down on his thrust even more.

The sparks start to fire again as your nerves wind back up, not even fully recovered from your last orgasm.

The hand on your cheek twitches down, but halts once his thumb presses into your jaw. It all clicks when he looks into your eyes, a silent plea in them.

You don't waste a single second, nodding frantically as you seize his wrist. You bring his hand down so he can rest his palm against your throat.

"Please, I want it." You beg with a pathetic voice, sniffling at the end as more tears fall when you feel your walls start to contract again.

He looks almost relieved, eyebrows relaxing on his scrunched face as his shoulders drop. He tentatively presses his large thumb into your pulse before speaking with a harsh, authoritative voice. His hips slow only slightly, more rolling than thrusting now, but still just as deep, still just as jolting.

"If it's too much, at any point, you tap me three times, let me see you do it."

You offer three pats against the forearm of the hand on your throat, gazing up at him with pleading eyes, desperate for approval. Obviously, you've never done anything like this. Nothing even close, but with Kiri looking at you like you're made of porcelain, you'd trust him enough to try anything.

"Good fuckin' girl." His voice drops, a powerful, deep rumble as his hips start to work up speed again.

The hand teasing your throat starts to tighten, but not how you expect. There's little to no pressure on your actual throat, most of it is on the sides. His grip cuts off the blood flow enough to give you a wonderful, delirious feeling in your head. Your whole body reacts to the exhilarating sensation. You can't help but let out a strangled moan once Kiri reaches his previous pace once again.

He fucks into you so intently, chasing his own release now. Your muscles start to seize again, walls twitching as you moan out nonsense praises below him.

"Little baby likes bein' choked, huh?" He taunts, releasing his grip just enough for your head to fill up with clarity again.

Then it clicks, he's allowing you to respond, he wants you to.

"I do, I fuckin' love it." You assure him, your voice doesn't even sound like you anymore. All whiney and wanton, full of lust and desperation. That greedy feeling scratches at your insides again. It fills your chest with white hot need for something rougher, nastier, more shameful.

"Be mean to me, Daddy, make me your bitch."

It all happens so incredibly fast. Suddenly, Kiri fucking growls down at you as he rips himself from your overworked hole. The absence of his massive length makes you cry out, you want to argue but your words are stolen from you by his next move. His hands are on your waist in the blink of an eye. He flips you onto your stomach, the speed of the rotation makes you instantly dizzy.

He straddles the backs of your thighs. Rough, selfish hands slide up the backs of your thighs. He gathers the fat of your ass in his palms and squeezes, letting out a low chuckle when you jump at the harsh feeling.

"So, you wanna be my bitch?" He asks, the tone of his voice sends a chill down your spine. He sounds almost… sadistic?

You don't get a chance to answer before his palm cracks across your ass cheek.

You yelp and whip your head around to give him a pouting look as you wipe more of your tears. The sight of him makes your dripping pussy clench around nothing.

He's sat back on your thighs, almost lazily. He isn't truly sitting on you, though, he would absolutely crush you. He's just braced over you, one hand stroking his glistening cock as the other kneads as your plush ass.

You just nod as your hands stretch out in front of you, grasping at the pillows, the sheets, the headboard, anything you can get a hold of.

His eyes are wild, strands of scarlet hair stick to his forehead with sweat. His stunning, chiseled muscles all flex as he pumps himself. Seeing him like this, it hits that rebellious nerve. There's no such thing as first time nerves now, your Kirishima's bitch, and that's all you want to be.

"Please, give it to me Big Daddy." You bat your eyelashes and bring your thumb to your mouth so you can bite down on it.

His hand freezes, body rigid with what must be shock. The hand on your ass slides up your back at a torturous pace. Buzzing anticipation settles in your gut as he leans down so he can spread his finger through the hair at the back of your head. Gathering a handful, he tightens his grip so he can crank your head back.

The bite at your scalp distracts you just long enough for him to press his broad tip against your quivering hole again.

"You think you're cute, don't you?" He says, low and dangerous.

You just blink at him, brain firing wildly to try and process every new addiction you're developing. Slowly, cautiously, you shake your head.

"Oh but baby…" He leans down even more so he can press his lips under your ear.

"You are. You think you can say something like that and get away with it. It's adorable." As he talks, he presses his length into you. You would think that after being fucked for so long that your hole would have been more prepared for him. You're so fucking wrong. The stretch is just like it was when he first put it in, but this time you're so ready for it, you welcome it.

"When you talk like that, you're gonna get your shit rocked." He mumbles against your ear.

You feel his hands at your hips, then you feel him hoist you up so your ass is in the air and your face is in the pillows. Then, all you feel is a shockwave of pleasure as he rams into you from behind. Within seconds, he has you squirming and screaming as he decimates your cunt over and over again.

The hand buried in your hair pulls your head to the side so you can moan out into the air instead of into the pillows.

"What are you?" He asks, the hand that isn't in your hair snakes around your waist so he can bring your torso up and press your back against his chest.

The action has you reeling, because your knees lift off the bed in order for you to be high enough to be fucked in this position. That's not a problem for Kiri though, he easily holds you up with the arm around your waist. Your legs dangle as he falls forward, other hand leaving hair so he can brace on the headboard.

"Daddy asked you a question." He pants against your ear. Hips still snapping into you impossibly fast.

"I'm your bitch- fucking hell- I'm your little bitch." You cry out, tears falling as one arm flies to hold the back of his neck as the other grabs at the arm around your waist.

His fingers bite your side as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder. He moans as he soothes the mark with his hot tongue.

"That's right, you like it don't you? You like bein' a little cry baby for this fucking cock. Don't you baby?" His words are dripping with the most sinful tone, even without any attention to your clit, your cunt starts to dance around him once again. Just his voice, his voice and his nasty praises are enough to start another fucking orgasm.

"Oh I fuckin felt that- You really do want me to be mean, huh?"

"Please- oh fuck- please, Daddy, please!" You sob.

"'Please, Daddy, please.'" He says with a mocking tone, "I told you to use your words, brat." That does it, "brat", something clicks within you. It fills you with a sticky, sweet feeling. It's something more intriguing than anything else you've felt. Whatever the feeling is, you're absolutely starving for more of it.

"Use me, please, use my little hole, let me feel you cum." You finally conjure a reply, digging it up from your newly found well of obscene phrases.

"Shit, princess, I'm gonna- fuck-"

Your filthy words seem to be enough to send him into a frenzy. Again his hands are on your waist, pulling out just long enough to flip you onto your back before he plunges back into you after your back hits the mattress.

He's so rough and fast now, all desperate, harsh hands as he fucks and fucks and fucks.

"Look at me, fucking look at me." He grabs your jaw, eyes full of feral desire.

"I'm gonna fill you up, you're gonna take all of it aren't you? 'Cause you're a good little slut." He commands before letting his other hand fly to your clit as you nod and stutter out promises that you'll do as he says.

As soon as his fingers start rubbing, your body seizes. Your eyes stay on his, nails scratching down his back as you cry and shake and writhe.

"That's it- fuck yeah- that pussy's gonna make me cum- you're gonna make me fuckin' cum- SHIT!" His voice breaks at the end, a crackling shout as his hips falter and he sinks all the way into your silky walls.

Your eyes stay locked on each other's, he drops his forehead onto yours. The hand grasping your jaw moves to cup your face, his other hand coming up to mirror it so he can cradle your head.

This orgasm is much softer than the others, all fuzzy and warm as it oozes through your limbs. Kiri rolls his hips into you as his cock spits hot cum deep inside of you. You both shutter and moan, hands loosening you finally feel him fill you up. Something you should have probably expected, is just how much he cums. He pulses again and again and again as your walls massage him. He fills you so much that he leaks out around himself, inevitably ruining the sheets beneath you both.

The feeling is foreign, briefly uncomfortable, but it quickly becomes a comfort. As your bodies calm, his hips still with one final gush into you. His thumbs rub your cheeks, wiping the remaining tears.

"You ok?" He asks with a scratchy, tender voice.

"Perfect, baby, that was perfect." You sigh as you pull him down for a kiss.

It's slow and feather soft, your lips work so reverently against each other, thankful for everything you've both shared.

He inches his hips back so he can pull his softening length out of you. Both of you shiver once he's all the way out, then you feel the mess he made inside you spill onto the bed.

"I should probably go get cleaned up…" You say as your cheeks heat, not at all prepared for what happens after something so intense.

He just looks at you like you're growing a second head.

"Princess, I'm gonna take care of that." He assures you.

Before you can argue, he's got you scooped up into his arms. He carries you off to the bathroom, completely abandoning the wreck you've left on your bed. You wrap your legs around his waist the best you can and bury your face into his neck. You feel strangely dependent and needy. You suppose that must be normal after something like that.

Once you're in the bathroom, he steps into the shower. He secures you with one arm around your waist so he can flip the water on with the other.

You try to ease yourself down from him, but the second you move your legs you're made aware of the powerful ache in your center. Standing might not be an option right now, or tomorrow.

"I gotcha, baby, don't worry." He says before kissing your temple.

You don't answer, just hold onto him nuzzle into his strong chest.

The shower is filled with gentle kisses and an abundance of sugary words. He tells you how well you did, thanks you for trusting him, kisses the parts that hurt. He makes you feel so explicitly loved, so abundantly cherished. It feels your heart with syrupy fondness. It's all so blurry, but all so distinct. Every soothing touch as he washes you lures you further and further into a state of complete relaxation. He puts lotion all over you afterwards, making sure he's careful with the tender spots. Soon you're wrapped in a plush towel, perched on the counter as he combs your damp hair.

You let out a long sigh at the cathartic feeling, then lean forward to kiss collar bone. You rest your chin on his chest and look up at him. You snake your arms around his waist and pull his huge frame between your legs. He sets the comb down before bringing his hands up to hold the sides of your head.

"You're my sweet girl, you know that right?" He says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod and give him a soft "mhm" as you press your lips into the opposite collar bone.

"Words please?" He asks, gentle and guiding.

Your brain is still so incredibly foggy, you're having a horrible time trying to scrounge up any coherent phrases.

One of his hands slides down the side of your face until it settles under your jaw, with the pad of his thumb against your chin and his index finger under your jaw, he tilts your head up so you have to meet his eyes.

"What are you?" His eyebrows raise slightly, eyes full of adoration.

"I'm your sweet girl." You somehow manage the admission with a hoarse voice.

"Perfect, don't ever forget that." He kisses the top of your head then, breathing in as he pulls you against him even more.

You love Kirishima, and he loves you. You both feel it in your bones. He has all of you now, and you feel like you have all of him. Regardless of past sexual experience, you've both given each other something new to cherish and learn about.

"Let's get you to bed." He says before attempting to scoop you up again.

"Uh- Kiri?" You say, pressing your hands to his chest to stop him.

"Hm?"

"I'm kinda hungry…" You admit, suddenly aware of the gnawing in your belly.

He looks down at you for a brief second, an amazed look dances in his eyes before he throws his head back to let out a rich laugh.

"Burgers, and then bed?" He asks fondly, head tilting down to kiss your forehead.

"Oh fuck yeah." You say excitedly, the promise of a big nasty burger makes you giddy.

It's not long before you're sat next to Kiri at a booth in your favorite burger joint. One heavy arm draped over your shoulders, the other holding a massive cheeseburger. You sit comfortably dressed in one of his hoodies, it falls all the way to your knees, drowning your body in fabric that smells like him.

He takes one, huge, messy bite out of his burger. Lettuce and condiments flops onto his plate as you carefully bite your own.

"You're an animal." You giggle up at him.

He considers your statement as he chews, then leans down next to your ear once he's swallowed.

"You like it." He whispers.

Your spine goes rigid and blush heats your cheeks. Of course nobody heard, only a few others out at this hour, but you can't help but glance around the diner to make sure.

You slap his arm and pout up at him.

"That's not fair." You protest, but you can't help the smile that spreads when you see him beaming at you with all his pointy teeth on display.

The rest of the night is spent full of laughter and teasing over milkshakes. You eventually wind up back home, tangled in bed together. After a change of bedding of course. You press yourself into Kirishima as much as you possibly can, though you'd both be content to melt into each other if it were possible. As you drift off, you thank your lucky stars for the man holding you, for the safety he provides, for such a dazzling first time. You're glad you waited, you'd do it again, you'd do it forever if it meant you could share it with Kirishima.

#kirishima smut #kirishima x reader #daddy kirishima #kirishima #bnha kirishima #eijirou kirishima #kirishima x you #mha kirishima #bnha smut #mha smut #my hero academia smut #my hero academia #my hero smut #bnha eijiro kirishima #bnha eijirou #kirishima fluff #mha fluff #bnha fluff

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puredivinity · 3 years

Text

nsfw alphabet (a-z) | eren jaeger

warnings: nsfw (18+), mentions of unprotected sex, of filming, slight breeding (?), very minor mention of blood in the letter ‘N’, i’m also not sure what else to work you about so i’ll just leave it here. original link.

word count: 2.6k (the same wc as my last post, haha)

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

After sex, Eren is usually relaxing and reflecting on what just happened. His hand is always on you, whether it be him holding you to his chest or simply linking pinkies, he’s there. His face is flushed and he’s breathing heavy, but he’s never felt better in his life.

All he can think about is how amazing it was, and he rolls over to press a kiss to your warm skin, mumbling an ‘I love you,’ where his lips connect.

He checks on you, making sure any marks he might’ve left don’t hurt too bad or sting too much, and he’s careful to scoop you up for a bath afterward. He makes sure you don’t have to lift a finger.

Regardless of if he’s mean to you, or if he’s rough with you, he always does this.

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

Eren’s favorite parts of his body are probably his arms and shoulders. He’s not very muscular but they’re defined enough to his liking, and he hopes you like them too.

His favorite body part on his partner is probably your thighs or your ass. He likes to squeeze them. He loves settling between your thighs and marking them, or having them sat atop his shoulders when he goes down on you.

He likes squeezing your ass when you ride him, and it’s where his hands rest the majority of the time (He’s not sorry).

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically…)

Eren’s cum is pretty thick, and he does it a lot. He has a lot of things pent up and it comes out during sex, but he tries.

He’s messy, like real messy, but he tries to not get it everywhere. Does it work? Absolutely not. But he tries.

His favorite place to cum depends on what you’re doing. If you’re blowing him, he wants to do it on your tongue/face. He’ll ask you to stick your tongue out (he does it like so much that you do it without him having to at this point) and he does it up there.

Anywhere else, and he tries to cum on your chest or inside of you, because he really likes to watch it seep out. He pushes it back in with his fingers and reprimands you for letting it fall out, opting to plug it with his tongue instead.

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

He doesn’t really have a dirty secret; whatever he does is out in the open, including the time he stole your panties to jack off.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

In canon, Eren isn’t experienced. At all.

In modern times, he’s fairly experienced. Before dating you, he’s had a few partners, but they’ve all had significant periods of time between so it’s not a consistent experience.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Doggy — I think this goes a little without saying, but he likes to watch the ass jiggle, and maybe smack it a little. Bonus points because he gets to really see how he’s fucking you, and it motivates him further.

Full Nelson — I said it. He likes it. He only does it when he’s really pent up, and he does it in front of a mirror so you both can see. He whispers the filthiest things to you and hearing your reactions really sets him off. Plus, he can tease you for the way you're dripping wet. He loves that. It also flexes his arms and strength, adding a boost to his ego <3.

Missionary — Eren loves to see your face, and the pleasure he’s giving you. He relishes the fact that he’s the primary source of your pleasure, thoroughly enjoying the way you bite down on your lip and your eyes get glassy, lips swollen from kissing him. He gets a full view of you in all your glory, and it becomes one of his favorites for that reason.

Mutual Masturbation — It’s not necessarily a position, but it’s something he really likes. He likes being able to look in your eyes and feel you come undone underneath his fingers, his touch, while you do the same to him. It’s a level of intimacy that’s unmatched for him.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

You two share a good laugh or two, yeah. He’s not intentionally funny—someone just makes a weird noise or if you have a little trouble getting into a position, it’s a little funny.

Also sometimes he gets stuck in his clothes and might accidentally rip a shirt, which makes you laugh and he gets flustered. Poor baby.

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

Eren isn’t too big on shaving. He more so prefers to leave everything as is down there, minus trimming a bit before it gets too unruly. He doesn’t leave a ton of hair down there bc it gets in the way, hence the trimming.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

It depends on the mood. I don’t think he’d ever be your cheesy type of romantic, with candles and flowers and all that jazz. He’s not great with his words, so he’s lacking a little in that department, but he’s very passionate. Very energetic, very needy and desperate for your touch and to touch you as well, that it makes up for what he lacks in other areas.

He maintains his usual playful persona throughout it, and likes to exchange a few giggles or small laughs here and there, and is generally all smiles whether it’s a needy moment or he decides to tease you just a little bit. He sometimes laughs at you when you whine after he pulls away to edge you, but he makes it up to you. Like he always does.

Sometimes he’s mean, building you up just to let you fall back down, dragging out your release for as long as you’d let him (or for as long as he feels like). He marks you, ensuring to leave something where others can see. You’re his. Remember that.

Other times he’s soft and sweet, praising you as always but without that little taunt in his voice, pressing meaningful kisses to your dampened cheeks; telling you he loves you more than anything, and if you want to cum, he’ll let you. You just have to let go.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Eren only does it when he’s alone and/or you’re absolutely too busy to do it and he doesn’t want to disturb you. He has a high sex drive, so he’s no stranger to doing it and he knows how to get himself there in no time, and he usually doesn’t care much for prolonging it because he’d rather be fucking you. Or have you be the one to stroke him.

You’re the main and only thing on his mind during these times, and he imagines that his hand is yours. If you’ve let him, he uses your panties to do it sometimes.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Overstimulation — He really likes overstimulating you, and takes great pride and pleasure in watching your legs shake after being brought to your orgasm over and over again. The heightened sense of pleasure makes you release the most delightful sounds he’s ever heard, and he makes sure to give you a kiss and all the praise you deserve after being so good for him.

Orgasm Denial/Edging — For the kinda same reason as above, he takes pride and pleasure in those things. He also doesn’t mind relinquishing control and having you take the reins, denying him his orgasm until you feel he deserves it. Do this and he’ll lose it. In your hand.

Praise Kink — I think we saw this one coming. Eren loves, and I mean loves, to tell you how good you’ve been for him. Tells you how pretty you look, all cute for him. Praises you for taking him well, too. For him, he needs you to tell him how good he’s doing. How well he’s pleasuring you, how well he’s making you feel. He craves it, he needs it.

Filming — Also not sure if this is considered a kink, but he does love this. I headcanon him as a photographer/having interest in photography, and you’re his main model both in fashion photoshoots and nude ones. He has several polaroids of you in little to no clothing (with your permission, of course) and has them for ‘safe keeping’. Code for pervert. There’s something about doing it on camera that thrills him, and he enjoys watching back the footage whenever you’re away or you’re in the mood for home videos. Lovely, right?

Marking/Biting — He uses his mouth a lot during sex, whether it be going down on your or simply biting a kiss into your skin—he does. He leaves marks on you and circles them with his teeth, tracing the imprints they’ve left after sex. He ensures they hurt as little as possible, but are heavy enough to be seen.

Not sure if this would be considered breeding, but he also really likes to fill you.

Threesomes are also in the question for him. He wouldn’t mind sharing you with a trusted friend, like Armin.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Eren prefers to do it on the bed because it’s significantly easier and it’s what he’s used to, but he doesn’t mind getting it on on a countertop or a desktop. Anywhere you’d let him take you is where he’ll have you. Greedily.

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

Call him what you will, but he absolutely cannot deny being turned on by you snapping at someone. You show the slightest hint of an attitude and Eren’s like “Oh, word?” He’s horny.

Also if you yell a little, it’ll get him riled up.

Likes it when you take his fingers in your mouth, or when he has your fingers in his. Pair that with the right amount of eye contact and he’ll quite literally be jumping out of his clothes. Also lip-biting.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that involves extra bodily fluids (you know what I mean).

Also reluctant to do anything blood related.

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

Eren prefers to receive, but he doesn’t mind diving in. Absolutely not. He moves faster than you could blink.

He’s not too experienced with it at first, but his determination leads him to figure out what you like and what you don’t in no time, and soon enough he’s got it down. He never disappoints.

He’s real messy when he eats, and will let you taste yourself if you let him.

Also, snowballing. Will absolutely cum in you, eat it out, and swap it with you in a heated kiss. Makes him ready for another round. And if you stick your tongue out and show him before swallowing? He’s gonna bust.

Now, in terms of him getting head, he’s quite awkward the first time. He shoved your head down too hard out of excitement one time (and felt real bad) so he made sure to keep his hands at bay for the most part, and instead let one settle at the back of your neck.

He loves making eye contact with you when you blow him, and if you keep it, he’ll nut within seconds. The visual of you on your knees makes him lose it, and he’ll cum right on your face, usually without warning. He apologizes right after though.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the mood he’s in.

Sometimes he’s sweet and slow, kissing you and moaning into your mouth, savoring the sweetness of your lips and the feeling of your touch. Your bodies mold together perfectly, and everything feels ethereal; just right.

Other times, he’s teasing. He’s sweet, but it’s almost mocking. Taunting, even. Treats you with a sweet smile and hungrily drinks in the moans you make, the sobs of pleasure that fall from your pretty lips. He moves faster this time, gripping you so hard that the flesh of your hips burn, driving into you repeatedly. He’s needy then, but still teasing.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Quickies are fun for him. Eren takes them as a challenge to see just how quickly he can make both you and him cum in a short span of time.

They’re not his preferred, but they’re still fun.

Will happily take you in a closet just far enough from the general crowd, or dip into one of the empty classrooms on campus.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’d be down to experiment with anything! As long as it isn’t hurtful or harmful to anyone involved, he’d be down. If it doesn work out, then it just doesn’t work out.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Eren can last for a fairly long time. He has a lot of stamina and energy from being an athlete, so it’s granted him a boost in the bedroom.

Lasts for maybe two or three rounds, sometimes even four if you’re not knocked out by then. However long you’re up for.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He didn’t really own any toys before getting in a relationship. He uses them primarily on you, but doesn’t mind using them on himself.

Recently purchased a fleshlight vibrator combo that activate whenever the other is used, so you can use them together. It’s great for when either of you leaves.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

It’s ridiculous with the amount that he likes to tease. He’ll have you begging for ages, mumbling that you just have to ‘let go’ and trust him and he’ll let you cum. He builds you up with his mouth, bringing you just dangling at the edge before slipping into you, and the cycle repeats. He’s ruthless but pretty, so you let him get away with it.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s loud. He’s a moaner and a groaner, and fully encourages you to be the same way. He’ll let out the prettiest sounds when he’s close, murmuring curse words under his breath and talking about how good you feel around him.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Did I mention that when he eats you out or removes your panties, he stuffs them in his pocket? He does that. For ‘safe keeping’. He gives you a grin that sends you to heaven, so any complaints you had die out on the tip of your tongue.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

It’s decent down there, he has a dark brown patch of hair, probably freshly trimmed and neat-looking. His dick is a little bit darker than he is, tip flushed with a pretty pink color. It’s a bit above average length, and a bit veiny, standing at seven inches even when erect. He’s shower.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

High. Very high.

He’s down for it all and any time of the day.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t fall asleep immediately unless he’s really tired (which rarely happens), so it takes a little while for him to pass out. He usually hops in the bath/shower with you to clean up, and then he showers you in love before falling asleep. A gentleman.

tagging: @levilaughlove69, @proseofpandemonium, @starstruckkittensweets, @alrightberries, @redhairedace, @jean-does-not-have-a-horseface, @jaegerbrat, @blondeboyfriend, @thethyri, @gojosweets, @namrekcaivel, @shisoaya, @ghvsts, @levisbrattiestbrat, @imonmylastthreadofsanity, @asterroidd

#eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #aot smut #snk smut #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager x you #nsfr #eren x y/n #eren jaeger x y/n #eren yeager x y/n

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bloody-bee-tea · 3 years

Text

Coming out

Jiang Cheng is having a bad feeling about this dinner. It feels like his parents are working up to something and he just knows it will be bad.

There are way too many meaningful looks between his mother and father and Jiang Cheng resigns himself to being yelled at yet again. It wouldn’t be something new after all.

But it isn’t until the very end of the dinner that his mother decides to speak.

“You’re in a relationship,” she says and it’s not even a question.

Jiang Cheng presses his lips together. The less he gives them the less they can do to him or Nie Mingjue.

“You are in a relationship and you failed to introduce her to us,” his mother goes on, clearly not concerned with his lack of a reply. “You will bring her to the next dinner.”

Jiang Cheng opens his mouth to tell her that it’s not actually a ‘her’ he’s dating and that he doesn’t appreciate her just ordering him around but his mother silences him with a look.

“That was not a suggestion,” she icily says and Jiang Fengmian sighs.

“Just do what your mother says,” he wearily tells him and Jiang Cheng clenches his jaw.

It would probably be better to come out to them now, but Jiang Cheng finds that he doesn’t want to. He will get yelled at, and he will be berated, and they will try to convince him that this is ruining the family and the company.

Jiang Cheng would really rather have Nie Mingjue at his side for that.

His parents don’t know how to behave in front of guests, after all, so the reaction will still be the same.

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng grits out and is glad when that’s the last they speak until he is allowed to leave.

Jiang Cheng thinks about calling Nie Mingjue immediately after he leaves his parents’ house, but he finds that he would much rather tell him the bad news while he’s cuddled up to him.

He makes his way home as quick as he can. When he sees the light coming from the windows, a warm feeling washes over him, because it means Nie Mingjue is waiting for him like he always insists on doing when Jiang Cheng meets his parents.

“I’m back,” Jiang Cheng yells into the apartment as soon as he opens the door and he is immediately engulfed in a hug.

“Welcome back,” Nie Mingjue says into their kiss and Jiang Cheng is helpless against the smile that blooms on his face.

“Hi,” he whispers like the love-drunk fool he is, but Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem to mind at all, because he meets him with a rather stupid smile himself.

“I missed you,” Nie Mingjue tells him, clearly completely unashamed and Jiang Cheng presses a little bit closer.

“Missed you, too,” he mumbles into his shoulder.

“How was it?” Nie Mingjue asks him as he guides him over to the couch, where he immediately pulls Jiang Cheng on top of himself.

This is exactly what Jiang Cheng was hoping for when he left his parents’ house and he lets out a content hum.

“Bad,” he still honestly says and melts when Nie Mingjue kisses the top of his head. “You’ll get to experience it next week,” Jiang Cheng tells him and Nie Mingjue tenses under him.

“You told them?”

“Nah.” Jiang Cheng wriggles around so he can sling his arms better around Nie Mingjue’s middle. “They know I’m dating. They expect to meet her next week.”

“Her,” Nie Mingjue repeats and he sounds really damn unhappy about it. “You didn’t tell them?”

“No. They are going to yell at me either way, and I would much rather have you at my side. That way you can also see that I’m not lying when I say they are the worst parents.”

“It’s not that I think you’re lying,” Nie Mingjue starts and Jiang Cheng sighs.

“But you can’t understand or imagine,” he finishes for him. “I know, I know, but you’ll see. They are the worst.”

“They really shouldn’t be treating you like this,” Nie Mingjue vehemently says and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“No, they shouldn’t. Won’t stop them, though,” he mutters and rubs his cheek against Nie Mingjue’s chest like an overgrown cat. “And I’ll feel better if you’re there to hold my hand through it,” Jiang Cheng mumbles, sleep already tugging at him and Nie Mingjue sighs.

“I will,” he promises him and that’s the last Jiang Cheng hears that evening.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng would really like to pretend that he doesn’t care about this at all and it’s not like he’s afraid of his parent’s reaction, but he’s still nervous; his heart is beating fast and his hand is sweaty in Nie Mingjue’s.

“We’ll go in, let them get it out of their system, hopefully enjoy the admittedly nice food, and then we get the hell out of there,” Jiang Cheng says, not for the first time and Nie Mingjue squeezes his hand.

“And then we’ll have a tub of ice cream at home,” he gives back, because he knows Jiang Cheng entirely too well and Jiang Cheng manages to smile at him.

“Deal,” he agrees and leans up for a kiss, which Nie Mingjue gives him very willingly.

“Just a fair warning,” Jiang Cheng says before he rings at the door. “There will be three stages to this.” He waits for Nie Mingjue’s raised eyebrow before he goes on, and Jiang Cheng has to bite back a small smile. “The first one will be confused politeness,” Jiang Cheng predicts. “Followed by a lot of them trying to guilt trip me over failing the family, before they will turn towards you and accuse you of trying to steal company secrets.”

“What the fuck,” Nie Mingjue mutters and Jiang Cheng reaches for his hand.

“I’m just telling you this now so I get to say ‘I told you so’ three times when we leave. But also because I want you to hold my hand through all of these stages.”

��Of course I will hold your hand through this,” Nie Mingjue says and raises their clasped hands to press a kiss to the back of Jiang Cheng’s hand. “But I really shouldn’t have to.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jiang Cheng sighs out even though he shrugs. “But this is how this family works.”

“And I hate it,” Nie Mingjue grumbles, but he also nods at Jiang Cheng to ring at the door. “But we’ll do this.”

“Just—don’t come to my defence, okay?” Jiang Cheng looks pleadingly at Nie Mingjue. “It won’t help and I don’t actually want you to fight with them. I just want to get this behind me, so I never have to talk about this with them again. If you get into a fight over me I will never hear the end of it.”

Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem like he understands at all, but he still dutifully nods.

“Fine. But I am going to hate every second of it.”

“Deal,” Jiang Cheng agrees and then takes a deep breath. “Here goes nothing,” Jiang Cheng mutters before he finally rings.

It feels like both him and Nie Mingjue are waiting with bathed breath for someone to open and Jiang Cheng straightens automatically when it finally happens.

“Mother,” he greets just as Nie Mingjue bows slightly in greeting as well.

“Madam Yu,” he says and Jiang Cheng watches how his mother musters Nie Mingjue up and down.

“Who are you?” she demands to know with a frown. “What is the meaning of this, Jiang Cheng? We specifically told you to bring your girlfriend.”

Here we go, Jiang Cheng thinks as he forces a smile on his face.

“You told me to bring whoever I am in a relationship with. You assumed it is a girl, which is wrong. So I brought who I am actually dating, which is Nie Mingjue.”

“I—see,” Madam Yu says and steps to the side. “Please come in then.”

Jiang Cheng looks over to Nie Mingjue with a look that already tells him ‘I told you so’ and Nie Mingjue squeezes his hand in reassurance.

Jiang Fengmian is seated at the table and he looks just as caught off guard as Madam Yu had, which almost causes Jiang Cheng to laugh right in his face.

“What is this?” Jiang Fengmian asks, his gaze on Nie Mingjue. “We were supposed to meet your girlfriend.”

“You’re supposed to meet my partner,” Jiang Cheng corrects. “This is him. Nie Mingjue.”

“Ah—I see,” Jiang Fengmian says though he still sounds unsure. “Like your business partner?” he then clarifies and Jiang Cheng doesn’t even try to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“No, father. My life partner. He’s my boyfriend. You know, like my girlfriend, just in male.”

“Ah,” Jiang Fengmian says yet again, and by now Jiang Cheng can tell that his mother is seething.

“This is not what we expected,” she says, still so painfully polite that Jiang Cheng cringes.

Nie Mingjue squeezes his hand and it’s enough to relax him again.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like you ever asked,” Jiang Cheng gives back and sits down at the table, Nie Mingjue steady and reassuring at his side.

“Is this how you come out to us?” Madam Yu demands to know and Jiang Cheng squints over at Nie Mingjue, trying to get his thoughts across.

The first stage is done; now for the second one.

“I didn’t make any elaborate plans for coming out to you, if that is what you mean,” Jiang Cheng tells them with a shrug. “It just never came up before so I didn’t see why I should tell you.”

“You’re coming out to us as what, exactly?” Jiang Fengmian asks.

“As gay,” Jiang Cheng says and he is not really surprised by the icy silence that settles over the table.

“Gay,” his mother repeats and Jiang Cheng nods.

This is—well, not going to be fun, directly, but it’s certainly going to be interesting.

“So what you’re saying is that you’re exclusively into—” his father trails off as he eyes Nie Mingjue up and down.

“Men,” Jiang Cheng finishes for him. “Yes.”

“What about women?” Madam Yu asks him and Jiang Cheng gives her a tight smile.

“I’ll leave that one to Wei Wuxian, seeing as he is bisexual and I am homosexual,” Jiang Cheng says, and tries to breath a bit deeper when Nie Mingjue squeezes his hand.

“So you just decided you won’t give us any grandchildren.”

Madam Yu sounds honestly affronted, as if that could be the motivating thought for Jiang Cheng, who merely shrugs.

“Adoption is still a thing,” he casually says, but then he can’t help himself. “I mean look at Wei Wuxian.”

Madam Yu immediately turns towards Jiang Fengmian, who seems unable to make eye-contact with her, or anyone at the table for that matter.

“Yes, look at Wei Wuxian,” Madam Yu presses out and Jiang Fengmian flinches.

That reaction seems to be enough for Madam Yu for now because she turns back around to Jiang Cheng.

“That would still mean there is no legitimate heir.”

“I know,” Jiang Cheng says because he couldn’t give less of a fuck about that.

Either he adopts a kid and they want to take over the company, or he’ll train someone else to do it.

If he even stays that long.

“Jiang Cheng, if you don’t have an heir, you’re ruining the family,” his father says and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“As if there’s anything left for me to ruin in this wretched family,” he mutters. “Maybe you can ask a-jie if she will give you an heir.”

“She renounced the family name when she married that Jin boy,” Madam Yu seethes and Jiang Cheng is still so damn proud of her for that.

“And good for her,” he says and looks over at Nie Mingjue who has thankfully stayed quiet the whole time so far, just like Jiang Cheng had asked him to though judging by how he is working his jaw he is not liking this at all.

“Do you want to adopt?” Jiang Cheng asks him, damn well knowing the answer, but he has to admit he’s enjoying aggravating his parents a little bit too much right now.

“It’s still too early to say that,” Nie Mingjue gives back as he shrugs. “But I think being an uncle is the cooler option.”

“Definitely,” Jiang Cheng says with a smile, because being Jin Ling’s uncle is the single best thing to ever happen to him.

“Oh, I see,” Madam Yu says suddenly and Jiang Cheng holds up three fingers under the table, only for Nie Mingjue to see.

“Are you deliberately trying to keep Jiang Cheng from having kids, because you want to ruin our company?” Madam Yu asks Nie Mingjue, and it’s the first time she addresses him directly.

“I—” Nie Mingjue starts but he doesn’t get far when Jiang Fengmian interrupts him.

“What was your name again?”

“Jesus Christ, you have dealt with him multiple times at work, so don’t even pretend to not know his name,” Jiang Cheng snaps out at him.

Jiang Fengmian had always spoken rather highly of Nie Mingjue before—he admired his work ethic and his clear stance on things—but of course he would conveniently forget all about that when he’s suddenly dealing with Nie Mingjue as Jiang Cheng’s boyfriend.

“Jiang Cheng!” Jiang Fengmian raises his voice like he only ever does when he thinks Jiang Cheng is being mean to him personally and for obviously no reason.

“You’re the heir of the company, you should at least pretend to have some manners.”

“For that I would have to learned some in the first place,” Jiang Cheng shoots back, thoroughly fed up with this whole evening. “And I’m the heir now? Funny, I thought Wei Wuxian was getting that position, seeing as he is the only one who gets any official training.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Madam Yu chimes in and Jiang Fengmian sinks deeper into his chair.

“It means that I am currently holding the position of a temp while Wei Wuxian accompanies father to all the official meetings. Mingjue has seen Wei Wuxian more times at work than me.”

“Are you trying to steal company secrets?” Jiang Fengmian tries to redirect the conversation but there is really no way this could be salvaged.

“In order to do that, I’d have to date Wei Wuxian, seeing as he is holding the more important position in the company,” Nie Mingjue calmly gives back and Jiang Cheng wants to kiss him.

And since they are already aggravating Jiang Cheng’s parents, he figures why not. So he simply leans over and presses a kiss to the corner of Nie Mingjue’s mouth.

“Jiang Cheng,” Jiang Fengmian snaps out, as if Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji don’t get up to more shit on a regular basis.

“What?” Jiang Cheng sweetly asks but of course his father only clenches his jaw and doesn’t say anything else. “Wei Wuxian can do it, but I can’t?”

“Those two things cannot be compared at all!”

“Of course they can’t be,” Jiang Cheng says with a sigh and drags Nie Mingjue up with him when he stands up. “I think it’s time to leave. You met my partner, so the reason for this dinner is over, right? Let’s not do it again anytime soon.”

“Jiang Cheng!” his mother calls after them but Jiang Cheng truly couldn’t care less.

And it seems like Nie Mingjue is right there with him, because he easily keeps step with him.

It’s only when the heavy door falls close behind them that Jiang Cheng relaxes.

“Wow,” Nie Mingjue whispers out and Jiang Cheng laughs.

“I told you so. I told you so, I told you so, I told you so,” he chants, but he also leans up on his toes to pepper Nie Mingjue’s face with kisses. “Worst parents ever.”

“I didn’t quite believe you,” Nie Mingjue apologetically says, “but fuck, you’re right.”

“Let’s not have dinner here for a while, okay?” Jiang Cheng asks though he doubts his parents will invite him again in the foreseeable future.

“Deal,” Nie Mingjue agrees easily enough and then he smirks at him. “Dinner and a movie? Seeing as we didn’t actually get to eat anything?”

“You’re just starving,” Jiang Cheng accuses him, but having Nie Mingjue at his side like this, making jokes like always and pretending that nothing is different is doing wonders for him.

Jiang Cheng long ago learned to not care about what his parents say or do, but he can’t deny that there was the tiniest bit of worry that maybe Nie Mingjue will look differently at him now that he knows just how fucked up Jiang Cheng’s family is.

But now that Nie Mingjue looks with the same love as always at him, that tiny worry dies out.

~*~*~

“I want to come out to my father,” Nie Mingjue says apropos of nothing one evening and Jiang Cheng freezes.

“What?” He definitely needs Nie Mingjue to use more words than this, because this just doesn’t make sense. Especially not after the fiasco that was dinner with Jiang Cheng’s parents.

“I’m not technically out to my dad,” Nie Mingjue easily says with a shrug and Jiang Cheng simply stares at him.

He stares at him for long enough that Nie Mingjue feels the need to explain.

“I’m pretty sure he kind of figures that I’m not straight, but he tends to go with that until we explicitly tell him otherwise,” Nie Mingjue finally does explain. “And I just never did that. I would like to have you there, if that’s okay with you.”

“Don’t you think one disastrous coming-out dinner with the family is enough?” Jiang Cheng asks as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

He will say yes of course, simply because Nie Mingjue asked, but he really could do without that.

“Not everyone is like your parents. You’ll see, my heart. It will be a lot easier with my dad,” Nie Mingjue promises him and Jiang Cheng sighs.

“Fine, whatever,” he mumbles under his breath. “Take me to dinner then.”

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng didn’t think it to be possible, but he’s actually nervous. He thought he got over that long ago, because if his own parents can’t faze him then how should any other parent be able to do that, but it turns out he wants Nie Mingjue’s dad to like him.

Desperately so, actually, so this is kind of important.

“Relax,” Nie Mingjue tells him for the fifth time that evening and presses a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head. “It will be fine.”

“I can’t quite see how that could be true,” Jiang Cheng grumbles but he leans into the contact when Nie Mingjue pulls him into his side.

“Just trust me. And let me say ‘I told you so’ at the end as well.”

“Ugh, fine.” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “If it makes you happy.”

“It does,” Nie Mingjue agrees with a nod and after one more kiss he knocks at his father’s door.

It doesn’t take long for it to open and Jiang Cheng always thought that Nie Mingjue is huge, but it turns out his father is kind of bigger.

The fact that Nie Huaisang is so tiny and delicate is all the funnier now.

“Nie Gengxin,” Jiang Cheng greets him and is overly aware of how he is being mustered.

“You’re not a girl,” Nie Gengxin says after a long moment and Nie Mingjue snorts at Jiang Cheng’s side. “I mean, you don’t present as one. Do you prefer to be referred to as female?”

“Eh, no?” Jiang Cheng asks, completely taken off guard with this, but Nie Gengxin only smiles at him.

“So it’s not a girlfriend, but a boyfriend, huh?” he asks his son and Nie Mingjue shrugs.

“Surprise,” he weakly says, and Jiang Cheng has to press his lips together.

“Not as much as you think,” Nie Gengxin gives back. “But I’m glad you told me. Thank you,” he says as he clasps Nie Mingjue’s shoulder. “Well, and I guess thank you for trusting me with this, too, since you did kind of came out to me as well. Welcome to the family!” Nie Gengxin earnestly says and it’s enough to bring tears to Jiang Cheng’s eyes.

“I told you so,” Nie Mingjue whispers over, even as he pulls Jiang Cheng into a hug and Jiang Cheng has to cling to him for a few long moments.

Dinner after that only gets better and Jiang Cheng is not ashamed to admit that he feels wholly welcomed into the family there.

Especially not when Nie Mingjue keeps holding his hand all evening.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #the untamed #mdzs #mingcheng #coming out #hurt/comfort #madam yu and jfm are the worst #but we know that #nmj's father on the other hand #he's the best #fluff #acceptance

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rkived · 4 years

Text

year 22 (m) — jjk

‘‘I knew you’d be standing in my front porch light, and I knew you’d come back to me.’‘

Pairing: childhoodfriend!jk x f!reader

Genre/Tags: angst!!!, drama, a lil fluff, f2l, e2l-ish, pining, slow burn, smut

Rating: M +18

WC: 11.5k

Warnings: time jumps, underage drinking, jk being a douchebag for most of the fic, reader can’t catch a mf break, mention of character death ((no major one tho)). smut in the form of oral (f. receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex ((wrap it b4 u tap it y’all)), my being called pretty kink making a brief appearance soz

A/N: i listened to cardigan for the first time n had it on replay the whole time i wrote this so ig u should do it too ! this is my first time posting smut on here but who would i be if i didn’t throw in some good angst ? also tysm to @periminkle for being my unofficial beta reader n checking it up for me, she knows i’m constantly looking for her validation n i def wouldn’t post this if she didn’t love it ilu vira thx for being the best ever mwah !!!

You’re five, cowering behind his mother’s legs, sniffing as tears stream down your face. In front of you both stands Jungkook, there’s remorse written all over his face as his mother stares him down with hands on her hips and a look that just screams that this is only the beginning of his punishment.

‘’Apologize to Y/N right now Jungkook, or I’ll have your father have a word with you,’’ she threatens with a stern tone, making her son quickly shake his head no. ‘‘You need to learn how to share your toys.’’

You peek behind her lanky leg and find the slightly older kid looking at you with narrowed eyes, ‘‘I’m sorry, Y/N.’’ He apologizes with a bow, but he’s obviously displeased with the whole ordeal.

His mother sighs and Jungkook pouts at the look on her face. She urges you to come out from your not-so-secret hiding spot and to go back to playing with him, even though you seriously doubt that will do any good to what just happened.

Jungkook’s bedroom door is kept open as he sits back down on his city patterned carpet, you twiddle with your thumbs and stare at the Spiderman poster on his wall. There’s an awkward silence between you two until you feel a toy bump your crisscrossed legs.

It’s the shiny red car he had refused to lend you before, provoking an argument between you two which eventually made you run out of his room in tears as you ratted him out to his mom.

‘‘Wooow,’’ you whisper in awe, taking the car in your hands with so much care, treating it like it’s one of your newest dolls.

Jungkook huffs, crossing his arms as he looks at you with distaste and he’s forced to settle with other boring toys as you giggle to yourself, making the car follow the carpet’s tracks. He learns then to never trust his mother again. If she ever says she’ll bring a new friend for him to play with again, he’ll refuse wholeheartedly.

He doesn’t like sharing his toys, and it’ll probably take him a long time to learn how to.

You’re nine as you hand Jungkook one of the multiple Valentine’s Day cards you carefully crafted the night before with your mother, adding all kinds of pretty stickers and shiny glitter to make each one of them unique. His is different from the rest, though.

You added hearts to the dots in the I’s, there’s a hint of your favorite body splash enveloping the pink construction paper and it fills Jungkook’s nostrils with so much force that he feels he could gag at the smell.

‘‘What do you think?’’ You ask the fourth-grader with a big smile on your face, cheeks tinted with a light shade of red as you see him reading the little message you wrote inside the card.

Jungkook lets out a mocking chuckle, ‘‘Are you serious? You like me?’’ He asks you, but it doesn’t look like he’s looking for answers. Your smile slowly fades away, looking at him with glossy eyes, ‘‘I don’t like you, you’re just a dumb little girl.’’

His card was the one you had invested the most time in and yet it only took him a second to crumple it with his hand, and another five for him to toss it into the trash can near you before he goes back to his group of friends in the school’s playground.

You learn how to hold your tears in then, thinking it’s a great accomplishment and that maybe now he’ll stop calling you a crybaby.

His friends receive him with high-fives and he smiles with gratefulness because they just saw how much of a badass he can be. Once recess is over and everyone’s going back to their classrooms, Jungkook nears the garbage bin where he had thrown the Valentine's card in, but finds it’s now dirty with yogurt someone tossed inside.

He grimaces at the sight and sighs, there’s no way he can save it now.

You’re twelve and you’re the only girl in the treehouse who hasn’t gone through puberty yet. It wasn’t something that bothered you until just recently, when it became pretty evident why none of the boys would even give you a onceover compared to the other girls.

“I don’t know if I want to play,” you mumble after Kim Jihyo suggests playing spin the bottle. You’re the only one who opposes the idea, though you could count Jungkook in given as he just sat there without saying a word.

Park Yerim rolls her eyes, “You’re so boring, Y/N!” The comment makes the rest giggle as you pout at being the designated party pooper.

It’s all fun and games of truth and dares to whoever the bottle lands on and you’ve been lucky enough to avoid the tip of the plastic Coca-Cola bottle to point at you, until it lands on Jungkook who has done a few funny dares so far.

“Alright, Jungkook, let’s make things even more fun!” Jihyo announces since she’s been the one who has assigned most of the embarrassing challenges and questions, “I dare you to kiss one of the girls here for ten seconds.”

The dare makes the boys cheer with excitement and the girls gasp with anticipation, hoping one of them is the lucky chosen one. Your lips part slightly as you stare at him sitting across from you, he’s clearly not comfortable with the dare, but knowing him, he won’t express his current discomfort.

His eyes land on you as you stare back at him with concern, hoping that he’ll speak up to avoid himself the embarrassment. Has he even kissed someone before? If this is his first kiss, you’ll witness it alongside everyone else and you can only imagine how terrifying that must be. Even though Jungkook’s always been a brave kid, you can always tell when he feels under pressure.

“Uhm, I’ll uh—“ Jungkook keeps staring at you and you feel your heart start to beat like you just ran the usual ten laps around the gym in P.E class. Are you about to have your first kiss? With him?

You nod your head absentmindedly, a sign to let him know it’s okay for him to pick you from all the other developed girls who probably have more experience kissing than you do, but it’s okay because you’ve always been a quick learner.

“Yeji,” Jungkook says after what feels like forever, though it’s only been a mere few seconds, “I’ll kiss Yeji.” He adds, removing his eyes from yours and settling them on the girl with the high ponytail and pink colored nails.

You bite your bottom lip hard, breaking the dry skin as you feel yourself taste blood. It doesn’t matter because no one’s paying attention to you and instead they’re focused on Jungkook’s neverending kiss with Yeji.

When you get home that night, you look at yourself in the mirror and frown at your lack of everything. Is this the reason as to why he hadn’t picked you?

You’re fourteen and Kim Taehyung just sent you a message through MSN in which he confesses to have feelings for you. Your eyes widen, rereading the message several times, rubbing at your eyes just to make sure you’re seeing things correctly.

You run off across the street to Jungkook’s house, ringing the doorbell quickly for someone to open up. You’re greeted by him looking at you with an annoyed expression, he had to pause his GTA game to come and open the door.

“What do you want?” Jungkook asks harshly, crossing his arms as he stares into somewhere that’s not your face. He’s anxiously waiting for you to spit out whatever it is you’re there to say.

You calm yourself down by breathing in deep and out, blowing the air right at him, “Does Taehyung like me?” You ask him, making Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise and his brows to raise.

His reaction tells you that you might’ve just discovered a secret you weren’t supposed to and it only makes your heart beat even faster because if it’s true, then this is a pleasant surprise. Kim Taehyung is one of the hottest boys in the tenth grade and he happens to be one of Jungkook’s closest friends. You think he must know something since you see them hanging out at lunch.

“Uh—I don’t know, Y/N.” Jungkook mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck, finally looking at you and he feels a gut wrenching punch in his stomach at the sight. “Taehyung isn’t a really good guy, you shouldn’t—“

“What are you saying?” You interrupt him with a question, confused as to why Jungkook was painting a negative picture of his friend. “He was really sweet with what he said, he thinks my eyes are pretty when they sparkle — I didn’t even know they did that!”

Jungkook grimaces and sighs, there’s really not much he can do here. You’ve always been so stubborn, so relentless. No matter how many times life tries to tell you something’s not meant for you, you challenge each and every one of it’s obstacles until you take what’s yours.

“Okay, then what are you gonna do? Date him? You haven’t even had your first kiss yet.” Jungkook reminds you with a mocking tone and you furrow your brows together because, how does he know that?

You stammer, “I-I have! I had it at camp last summer, actually!” That’s a lie, but he wasn’t there so he can’t prove the veracity of your statement. “And what do you care? So what if I want to date him?” You add with anger, not understanding why couldn’t he just support you in search of true love.

The thought of dating Kim Taehyung had never crossed your mind, thinking he was way too out of your league for him to ever notice you. But that confession sitting in your MSN chat now served as a nice feeling of knowing you aren’t as invisible as you think you are.

Jungkook scoffs, “Taehyung would never date you, okay? He’s older than you, he’s cool, he goes to parties and has kissed almost every girl in his grade, do you think he’d really like someone as boring as you?” He doesn’t mean to be so harsh, but you’re just so difficult and impossible to get through.

Jungkook’s used to the trembling bottom lip and the teary eyes that you give him everytime he says something that definitely strikes a nerve within you, but he’s always impressed on how you always refrain from crying in front of him. Last time you did that you were both kids and he probably took the last lollipop from your batch of collected halloween candy.

“Screw you, Jungkook,” you say through gritted teeth, and if looks could kill, he’d be dead already.

He looks at you quickly stomp your way back to your house, only heading back inside once you slam your front door shut. Jungkook enters his room to find two new messages in his MSN.

$$ kIm tAaEhyYyuNG $$: it worked!

$$ kIm tAeEhyYyunGG $$: she fell for it xDxD where did u even come up with the sparkly eyes thing?? that’s gold bro rofl

Jungkook sighs, ignoring the messages and shutting his computer down.

You’re sixteen and you’ve been invited to your first party. Granted, it was Jungkook’s, but he knew that if he didn’t ask you to come you’d probably tell on him with his mom. No matter what age he was, he’d always fear his mother’s scolding.

“Drink this!” Park Jimin says with his beautiful smile and you’re starting to realize why they gave him that very same superlative on the school’s yearbook. You take the red solo cup without any second thought, placing the rim straight to your lips and choke once you feel the liquid burn your throat.

“Ugh—What’s this?” You ask, cleaning the droplets of liquid around the corners of your mouth.

He chuckles, “Fruit punch!” The liquid is indeed red like the familiar drink you’re used to, but there’s definitely something else mixed inside. “Oh, and vodka,” he adds with wiggly eyebrows as he shows off the small flask he was hiding in his sweatshirt’s front pocket.

You gasp and hand him the cup back, “No, I don’t drink alcohol, sorry.” Jimin rolls his eyes and it reminds you of the many times you’ve received this same reaction from your classmates before. Always a party pooper. He’s about to take the plastic red cup from you until you quickly drink the spiked punch in one go.

The boy howls in excitement, “Woo, go Y/N! Another one coming right up.”

Jungkook knows he should be making sure everything’s alright downstairs. If his mother notices there’s at least one misplaced object, she’ll know right away something went down in her house while her husband and her were away for the weekend on an emergency trip to their hometown. Leaving him unsupervised only because they both believed their son was old enough to tend for himself.

But Jung Eunha had dragged him into his room with the excuse of wanting to see what it looked like, but the mini tour had turned into them kissing on his bed and Jungkook is thankful he changed his Spiderman sheets in exchange for some boring plain grey ones. Eunha smells like fresh mint and Jungkook is way into his head to focus on properly kissing her.

It’s not until his bedroom door is abruptly open, slamming against the wall that Jungkook literally jumps to his feet, making Eunha gasp as they both look at the person who has interrupted their awkward makeout session.

“Guk-ah, what are you doin’?” You curiously wonder, a hiccup following right after which makes you giggle. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with quickness as he notices you look different from the last time he saw you twenty minutes ago when you were talking to Jimin. “Guk-ah, were you—you kissin’ Eunha?” You ask once more after not receiving an answer to your previous question.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks in concern, coming closer to analyze your weird state. You stretch your arm out to avoid him from nearing you, making him falter in his place as he studies your expression.

You hum, “Guk-ah, you busy. Sorry,” you apologize in a shy tone, ready to head back down and have more of that fruity alcohol punch you now found tasty, but you stumble and only avoid yourself from falling by holding onto Jungkook's door frame, he’s already reaching out by then.

“Are you fucking serious, Y/N? Get out!” Eunha complains with irritation, getting up from the bed and ready to kick you out of his room, but his free arm stops her from getting near you. “Whu—?”

“Eunha, go back down. I’ll deal with her myself.” Jungkook says as calmly as he can, thinking three’s a crowd and dealing with you wasn’t an easy thing in of itself. She’s about to argue, but he interrupts her again, “Go down, now.”

She rolls her eyes and bumps her shoulder against yours harshly once she steps out of his room, “Whatever, that kiss was shitty anyway.”

He pretends he didn’t hear that and takes you in his arms instead, dragging you to lay on his bed as you cuddle into his favorite pillow and hug it close to your body. How much did you drink? Why did you even do it in the first place? Jungkook knows you’ve never tried alcohol before, which means he’ll be in big trouble if you show up back to your house like this.

When you open your eyes hours later, your head hurts and it feels lightweight when you move it side to side. The room you’re in is familiar, that spiderman poster is still hung on the wall, but there are no more toys laying around the floor; they’ve probably been stored somewhere in his garage or sent off to a donation center under his mother’s demand.

The pillow that you’re hugging smells just like him and any other day you’d hold on to it tighter and inhale his scent like your life depended on it, but you abruptly sit on the bed as you’re reminded of how you got here. The action is not appreciated by your dizzy head, but you look around the room to notice how dark it is and there’s no more music playing downstairs.

You quickly jump to the ground, only to hear a “Fuck, ouch!” from below, stepping on Jungkook’s leg unintentionally. It makes you gasp, looking down to notice the older friend laying on the cold floor, having gotten rid of that childhood carpet of his. His head’s laying on a makeshift pillow made out of a towel and he’s trying hard not to shiver.

“I’m sorry, sorry, sorry!” You quickly apologize, stepping away from his figure as he soothes the shin of his leg you stepped on. “Jungkook, what happened?”

He sighs, “Someone decided to drink like five cups of spiked punch knowing damn well it was their first time drinking alcohol, stepped into my room like a crazy person, and then crashed on my bed like they—What’s with the face?”

“Bathroom.”

Jungkook grimaces while he holds your hair back, you’re throwing away all the liquid you had taken with a few additional snacks you had munched on earlier, “Are you done?” He asks in a tired mumble and you shake your head no.

He feels guilty that you’re in this position. He didn’t even want to kiss Eunha, but she was one of the most popular girls in his grade and he knew that if he turned her down she would most likely put a bad word in with the rest of the girls and the guys would make fun of him for being such a wuss.

That would’ve been better, because after laying you down on his bed he had to go down and tell everyone that the party was over, putting an excuse that the neighbors had warned him and threatened to call the cops. They all cleared pretty quickly, but he knew he was going to be the butt of the jokes come Monday. He even had to call your parents to let them know you had gone home to a friend’s house for a sleepover, which he knew wasn’t totally believable, but it had somehow gotten them convinced that their daughter was alright because they trusted Jungkook to never hurt you ever.

Once you feel like you’ve puked your stomach out, Jungkook hands you a pill accompanied with a glass of water and hands you clothes of his that might be more comfortable to sleep in.

“Good night, Jungkook,” you whisper once you’re laying back on his bed, still hugging the pillow he preferred to sleep with. He makes a sacrifice to make it up to you.

His back is going to hurt by the time the sun comes out in a few hours, but it’s okay if it means you’ll sleep comfortably after the events of tonight. “Good night, Y/N.”

He’s unable to sleep, but finds entertainment in your hanging hand beside his bed. The skin on your palm looks soft and there’s this strange urge inside of him that makes him want to grab your hand in his, but he refrains.

To calm the current chaos in his head, Jungkook finds peace in the light snores coming from his bed.

You’re just about to turn eighteen and your date to the prom is Jeong Jaehyun, who had only asked you out a day before the event because the girl he had initially wanted to take had been asked and he didn’t have a plan B.

Jaehyun is okay, at least he managed to get you a corsage that matched the color of your dress. He even smiles in the pictures your parents take of you both as you awkwardly try to look comfortable with his arms around you even though by then you had only exchanged a few sentences.

The prom’s theme is Summer Nights and you think it’s fitting considering this is the very last event before the graduation ceremony, meaning that you’d most likely never see most of these people ever again. You had purposely applied to a college that was outside of your hometown for that same reason. You’re ready to live the life you’ve always wanted to live, without anyone judging or knowing you.

Your date spends most of the night talking with his group of friends as you’re left alone on your table, looking at your well manicured nails. You knew you weren’t going to get the same prom experience the high school kids on T.V enjoyed, but you at least hoped it would’ve been a little more fun than this.

A tap on your shoulder makes you turn around to see Jungkook trying to loosen the tight tie around his neck. He looks incredibly handsome and you suppose his mother helped him pick the suit out, Jungkook rarely ever wore fitted clothing, so this is one of those once in a lifetime moments..

“Hey you,” you say and he gives you half a smile, wondering why you’re sitting by yourself at an empty table when everyone else was either mingling or dancing. “Where’s your date?” You ask with curiosity, you’re surprised that Jinsoul isn’t trailing alongside him given how she had behaved for the past week ever since he asked her to come with him.

“Retouching her face or something,” he answers casually, “what are you doing sitting here? Where’s Jaehyun?” Jungkook asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “Don’t know, probably talking with the guys of the basketball team. He’s been gone for a while.” Not like you care, anyway. If your conversation with him inside his car on the way to the venue had been any indication of what it would’ve been like for the rest of the night, you’re glad he's not here trying to make any more small talk with you.

Jungkook huffs, thinking he’ll kick his ass if he sees him. He had asked him to invite you so you wouldn’t come alone, and yet here you are, sitting all by yourself while the douchebag’s making a social life somewhere in the crowd. He calms down once he notices how unbothered you are by it, though. You’re a big girl now, you’ve been through too much to be affected by something as simple as this.

“Is there something you wan—“

“Dance!” You interrupt with excitement and Jungkook chuckles.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted something to drink, but—alright, let’s dance.” Jungkook can’t dance for shit, but you took lessons when you were younger and he can still remember how you’d always show him the routines you learned in class. He’d always boo you, but in reality you were pretty good. He wonders why you stopped, he doesn’t recall you ever telling him.

It’s just his luck that once you both step into the dancefloor, the hired DJ stops the up-tempo song playing before and switches to a much slower romantic one, “Alright everyone, I want all the couples on the dancefloor for this one.”

You step away from him with nervousness, it’s couples only after all. But Jungkook holds onto your lower back firmly, pulling you closer into his space. Your eyebrows raise as your lips part, “Uh, s-should we, uh—?”

“It’s just a song, Y/N. You wanted to dance, then we’ll dance.” He tells you with such confidence it makes you feel like this is totally normal and something all friends do. All the known High School couples are dancing together, heads tenderly placed over chests and chins resting lovingly above them. You wait for Jungkook to take the lead because you have no clue of what you should be doing, you might’ve taken dance lessons years ago but you’ve never slowed danced in your life.

Jungkook places his hand on your hip, the touch makes goosebumps crawl in your arms. He pretends he doesn’t notice it as he takes your right hand in his. You stare at the way he delicately holds it like it’s his mother’s fine china. “Place your other hand on my shoulder,” he instructs and you do as asked, your palm coming to rest on the strong muscle.

He’s only slowed danced once before at a family member’s wedding where his mother taught him how to, with her as the teacher. Back then he thought it was incredibly ridiculous, but now he’s sort of glad that happened because he’s the teacher now and you’re now looking at him with your big eyes as you sway alongside him.

You clear your throat, “This isn’t that hard.” Jungkook nods as he stares down at you, noticing how uneasy you are given that you’re looking at everything and not entirely immersed in the moment.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He says out of nowhere, making you look at him like a deer stuck in headlights, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He had never called you that before.

An awkward laugh escapes your lips, looking away from his intense gaze as you try not to take his words too literally, “Ha ha, that was a good one.” To you there’s no other explanation than this being one of his mean pranks on you.

But Jungkook doesn’t falter both his words and gaze, “I’m not laughing.” There’s seriousness in his voice and you have to look back at him again just to make sure he really isn’t, “You look beautiful, just take the compliment.” You nod and there’s silence between you two after that. You’re digesting the romantic lyrics that the singer is talking about and hope that the song ends soon, because you’ve never been this close to him and it’s starting to feel too crowded.

You clear your throat, “So…”

“So…,” he repeats.

“What are you doing for summer?” You ask him in an attempt to break the tension and wanting to take advantage of the little intimate moment since Jungkook rarely ever lets you pry into his private life.

“I think I’ll train before heading off,” he answers. It was more than obvious he was going to earn that sports scholarship he had been aiming for, he was one of the best athletes on the school; though you considered him to be the number one between them all. “I’m kinda scared, not gonna lie.”

You look at him with surprise, tilting your head to the side, “You’re scared?” You ask in disbelief because as long as you’ve known him, he’s never been scared of anything. This is the same kid who instilled your fear of monsters in a closet after watching Monster’s Inc. together, also the same kid who helped you get over it after he realized you had actually taken it seriously.

He chuckles lightly, “Yeah, I’m just scared about starting over.” It’s interesting how his biggest fear is the one you’re looking forward to the most, but you suppose it’s fitting for someone who has never had to worry about what people think of him. In this town, Jungkook has swam freely without any concerns. Out there, he’s just another fish in the big and scary ocean. “Aren’t you?” He questions, hoping that you’re able to relate to what he’s feeling.

“Honestly, I—“

You’re interrupted by Jaehyun clearing his voice in front of you two, making you both turn your heads towards his direction. You quickly separate from Jungkook and he feels his body lose the warmness you were providing.

“If you wanted to dance, you could’ve just asked. I’m your date after all.” He says smugly and you chuckle awkwardly, nodding because he’s right.

Jungkook wants to punch his stupid face, how dare he interrupt you both when he had been ignoring you the whole night? Why does he suddenly want to dance with you when he’s probably still upset at him for asking Jinsoul to the prom before he could?

“Your date’s looking for you, buddy. She doesn’t look too happy.” Jaehyun adds with a smirk as he takes your hand in his and drags you away from Jungkook towards another place on the dancefloor.

He’s left to stare at the way he holds your hand, and he only hopes he’s doing it ever so carefully.

You’re twenty when Jungkook sees you for the first time since you both left for college two and half a years ago. He’s rendered speechless when he spots you in the crowd, there’s a manly hand around your waist as you giggle into the stranger’s mouth before placing a kiss to his lips.

There’s only so much social media can provide him, pictures and stories aren’t enough for Jungkook to keep up with you. He thinks you’ve changed, not only appearance wise but you seem way more outgoing, carefree, and happy. Did he miss the boyfriend announcement picture? He’s sure he didn’t, he checks your profile almost every day and he’s never even seen him in any of your stories.

A gasp escapes your lips once you spot him, completely forgetting about the possibility of bumping into him given that both your schools were playing against each other that night. You tell Namjoon you’ll be right back and he nods, going back to a conversation with the group of college friends you had made.

You surprise him by jumping into him, arms around his shoulders as you hug him from behind. You let out a shrill of excitement and he blushes as his friends chuckle at the unexpected approach from this unfamiliar girl.

‘‘Jungkook! You didn’t tell me you’d be here,’’ you say once he turns around to face you and he’s able to see you better upfront. You look beautiful and he thinks the Instagram pictures are not doing you enough justice. You’re glowing, and it has nothing to do with the highlighter you applied on your face and collarbone area.

The both of you aren’t able to properly talk until you suggest moving to a different area, Jungkook apologizing to his friends as he explained he needed to catch up with an old friend. They don’t complain and instead shoot him teasing looks and small pervy comments that go by unnoticed to you.

Jungkook listens with intent to your ramble about what you’ve been up to. From your courses, to your roommates, the parties you’ve attended, and even the fact that you handle your alcohol better now. He’s happy that you seem so too, but it irks him that you hadn’t been capable of telling him that you had a boyfriend now. Is there a reason as to why you omitted that important piece of information?

‘‘And what about you? How’s college?’’ You ask with curiosity.

He blinks a few times, realizing you had stopped talking about yourself and was now wondering about him instead. ‘‘It’s fine,’’ he answers with a tight lipped smile, the lack of detail compared to you was astonishing, but even though you were still hungry for more you decided not to pry any further.

There’s fear in revealing that he’s been having a hard time catching up with the rest of his peers. College was indeed fine, but it could be better. He’s settled with the idea that this is as good at it’ll get, some things just aren’t like you expect them to be. At least you’re happy, and that fact brings him comfort.

‘‘Was that your, uhm─boyfriend?’’ He finally asks after a while, both about to head back to your respective group of friends.

The question takes you by surprise, looking at him with raised eyebrows and mouth agape. ‘‘Who? Namjoon?’’ He nods, though he doesn’t know anything about the guy he had first seen you with. You let out a wholehearted laugh, ‘‘Hell no, too many commitment issues with that one,’’ you answer and Jungkook’s forehead creases with confusion.

Why were you kissing him then?

‘‘We’re friends with benefits,’’ you inform him as if you had read his mind. ‘‘He’s a nice guy, though. Also, super smart, he’s helped me with a few of my─’’

‘‘You’re not a virgin anymore?’’ He abruptly asks, disbelief in his tone as he internally screams to himself for thinking out loud. Jungkook expects you to berate him about such an imprudent question, but is surprised when he sees you giggling.

‘‘Duh, silly. I think I lost it freshman year?’’ The carelessness in your voice makes him look at you like you’ve gone crazy. Why are you so lax about this? Why are you telling him about losing your virginity without a care in the world? ‘‘Anyway, are you going to be home for the─’’

Jungkook interrupts you once again, ‘‘Was it with your boyfriend at the time?’’ He asks in genuine curiosity and you sigh, rolling your eyes slightly at him.

‘‘No, it was some random dude at this party I went to. Could you please─’’

‘‘Y/N, are you insane? Why would you give up your virginity to some fucking stranger like it’s nothing?’’ Jungkook’s voice raises as he scolds you about being so negligent about yourself, ‘‘You can’t do shit like that!’’ He fumed, making you let out a breathless chuckle.

‘‘Could you stop treating me like a fucking child for once in your life? I’m perfectly fine, Jungkook. I’ve been doing pretty well for myself without you here, actually. I don’t know why you think you have a say on what I do, is it the entitlement you have of me that you still carry around because we grew up together? Because if that’s it then you can drop it, I let go of my little girl who wanted a friend and was treated like pure shit in return complex a long time ago.’’

He knows you’re right, but he thinks he’ll always have this odd sense of protection over the five year old girl who cried to his mom about not lending her his favorite toy. He’ll always want to apologize to the eight year old girl who declared her love for him with a Valentine’s Day card while he ended up breaking her heart in exchange. He’ll always wish to look for help within the twelve year old girl who witnessed him give out his first kiss to another girl who he didn’t even like. He’ll always feel guilty towards the sixteen year old girl who had gotten tipsy on a spiked fruit punch and crashed on his bed. He’ll always hate himself for not asking the seventeen going on eighteen year old girl to prom when he knew he could’ve, but chose not to in fear of ruining your friendship.

You only wanted someone to be there for you growing up and Jungkook had never been the brave boy you thought he was, always running from his fears in hopes he’d have a wide advantage margin from them. Yet here they are, standing right in front of him in the form of a twenty year old you, and they’re there to let him know that you’ve never needed him, yet he’s always needed you.

He can’t even apologize, he only looks at you with wide eyes as he fidgets in his place. Either you’re both too old now to understand each other or you just realized that you’ve outgrown Jungkook.

Your mouth set in a hard line as you crossed your arms, the night’s breeze feeling colder than usual. ‘‘I miss you Jungkook, but I can’t keep playing this cat and mouse game with you any longer.’’

You leave him behind to go back to Namjoon’s arms, seeking refuge in his sweet embrace as you try your hardest to put on practice what you learned all those years ago when Jungkook broke your heart for the first time, you should be used to it by now.

You’re twenty-one when you’re back in your hometown to attend the funeral of the old lady down the street, the one that always scolded you and Jungkook growing up.

You had been scared of her as a child, but always following along your friend’s footsteps when he proposed playing around her garden. It tugs at your heartstrings even if you hadn’t known the woman well. Her death was imminent seeing as she’d been ill for quite some time.

A taller figure stands next to you as you both stand way in the back of the ceremony. He looks tired and you figure that it’s because of the fact he arrived late into the night, you heard his car’s engine from your bedroom window. Dressing in all black, you notice he bought a new suit. You’re sure that the one he wore for prom no longer fits considering he’s bigger now.

You haven’t talked to each other since last year when you both left off on a sour note. The hurt you felt was no longer present, though. You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought of a way you could talk to him again without making things awkward, but you let out a small gasp once he placed his arm around your shoulders, giving it a small squeeze as he sighed and kept his focus on the service.

Watching the casket be lowered into the ground felt weird. She was a human being just like you, but her existence was a reminder of your childhood. Would it be okay to say that her death meant a part of you leaving with her too?

Once it hits you, it’s Jungkook who consoles you by hugging you tight. Your eyes are too blurry with tears for you to realize this is one of those rare moments where he’s holding you close without hesitation. He lets you ruin his tuxedo’s jacket with your mascara covered tears as he brushes your hair as a sign of comfort.

You know things are back in order when he proposes the idea to go back to the old lady’s porch, for old times sake. ‘‘Will we ever let her rest?’’ You ask him with a small laugh as Jungkook sits on the doorsteps of the old lady’s empty home, opening the bag of candy worms he bought at the grocery store.

He shrugs, ‘‘She loved us, always told my mom how much she missed us running around the street.’’ The revelation makes you smile, hoping it was true. He pats the empty space next to him, indicating for you to fill it up with your presence. Once you do, you feel the familiar warmth of his proximity.

Jungkook seems different and you only hope he’s changed for the best.

‘‘When are you going back?’’ You ask him with curiosity, hoping that he’ll be in town for a few more days so you can catch up with him on a better note this time around.

He munches on one of the snacks, ‘‘Tomorrow morning, I have training camp and can’t miss it.’’ His answer makes you sigh with disappointment, but you nod nonetheless. ‘‘What about you?’’ He asks in return, and you inform him that you’ll stay for a few more days to spend time with your family. There’s silence after that and Jungkook can only offer you the gummy worms in the bag, you take one with a small thanks.

‘‘College fucking sucks,’’ he says out of nowhere and it makes you look at him in bewilderement, ‘‘I hate it there, I wanna drop out so bad. But I’m a year away from graduating so it’s too late now.’’ You see his shoulders visibly relax, like a weight had been lifted off them. ‘‘Plus my mom would kill me if I do so,’’ he adds with a chuckle.

Last time you asked everything was fine. Had things changed or had they always been this way and he was just now being honest with you?

You rest your head on his shoulder and focus all of your undivided attention on him as he keeps rambling about what his life has been ever since he left this town. He’s had bad games, bad grades, and bad girls. But he’s also had incredible games, good grades, and a couple great hookups, and yet he still feels empty, it’s not enough.

‘‘I miss you,’’ he mumbles as he faces you, ‘‘I’m sorry for being such a shitty friend, you deserved better.’’ His apology is genuine and you can feel it in the way his voice trembles, sincerity has always scared him after all.

Jungkook’s never known when the time is right, and he misjudges the look on your face. When he leans down to press his lips against yours, he’s blinded for a mere moment into believing that you wanted to kiss him just as much as he had been waiting.

You abruptly separate from him with wide eyes and parted lips, ‘‘Jungkook, I’m─I’m dating Namjoon now.’’ He can physically feel his heart shatter, the revelation coming out like an old newspaper headline he should’ve read a long time ago.

He lets out a breathless chuckle, ‘‘He got over the commitment issues?’’ The rhetorical question is bitter.

You scoff, ‘‘And what about it? I preferred to wait than to rush into getting my heart broken.’’ Plus it’s not like you were expecting Namjoon to grow feelings for you, the whole no strings attached arrangement was named that way for a reason.

Jungkook looks at you with narrowed eyes and he shakes his head sightly. Old habits never die down, still so stubborn and challenging as ever.

He’s startled as you stand abruptly, fuming as you look at him, ‘‘I don’t even know why you care! Did you forget that you threw my Valentine’s Day card into the trash? Or that you kissed Yeji in front of my face? Or that you let Taehyung date me as prank between your friends? Or that you were making out with Eunha while Jimin kept giving me alcohol? Or that you asked Jaehyun to take me to the stupid prom even though I was perfectly fine going without him or anyone for that matter?’’

‘‘We were just kids!’’ Jungkook argues back at you.

‘‘It still fucking hurt,’’ you counter, ‘‘still hurts, actually. You think that by giving me a measly apology and kissing it better I’ll suddenly forget about all of it?’’ Jungkook knows it won’t ever make up for all those years, but he had at least hoped you’d be willing to give him a chance.

He wishes he could say something else. Explain that he had just tried to protect you in his own shitty way from everyone else or himself maybe, he doesn’t know anymore. He wants to speak up again, but there’s disappointment written all over your face, you’re not angry at him...just saddened.

‘‘Hope you have fun at your training camp.’’

Jungkook watches as you leave him sitting by himself on the old lady’s doorstep. A hand runs through his hair as he feels his eyes water, and he can almost hear a whisper in the wind that asks him why he didn’t stop you when he could’ve.

Jungkook didn’t think that his family coming together with yours for Christmas dinner would’ve been a great idea. You’re cold to him at first and it’s fitting for the winter weather, but as always it only takes for him to sit next to you for things to warm up again.

It’s with the excuse that you’ll run over to your house to grab a new bottle of wine from the kitchen counter that Jungkook trails behind you, both slightly tipsy on the different alcohols your families had offered each other.

Years have passed since he last stepped foot inside your home, you used to visit him more often than he did anyway. It still smells and looks the same; the only difference is that there’s new pictures of you hung up on the walls, updated accordingly to the changes you’ve made ever since you left off for college.

You’re sporting a big smile in all of them, which in exchange makes him copy the action as well. His lack of presence in your life has done you better than compared to when he was around, and if that’s the case, then at least he did something right.

There hasn’t been much said since the beginning of the night, just a simple hey out of courtesy. There’s so much he wants to say, but with no clue where to begin. Another apology is due, though he thinks it’s a little too late for that. He also wants to ask about what you’ve been up to since he last saw you, are you still dating the Namjoon guy you had told him about after he kissed you? If he’s still there, Jungkook rather keep quiet and not wonder out loud to you, he’s sure that it’ll hurt if it’s true.

Growing up Jungkook always mistook your bravery with stubbornness and your courage with relentlessness. You’ve always been challenging, but only because you wanted him to do so too. It’s moments like this that prove him that you’ve always been the stronger between the two.

‘‘So, we’re just gonna pretend like nothing’s wrong between us?’’ You ask, speaking directly to him for the first time that night. It makes him look at you like a deer stuck in headlights, surprised by the sudden question and out of all the years of knowing each other, he feels small under your gaze for once. ‘‘How much time is it going to pass until you want to finally talk things like adults?’’

Jungkook gulps the lump in his throat, his brain quickly thinking of the right thing to say, ‘‘I just wanted to protect you from─’’

‘‘From what? From you? Everytime you’ve done that I end up getting hurt in the end. I’m left to pick the pieces up by myself,’’ you interject with anger in your voice. ‘‘It fucking pisses me off that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you kissing me, I haven’t stopped thinking about you and─’’ A sigh, you close your eyes to center yourself again as Jungkook waits for the final blow, ‘‘and you look like none of this has ever bothered you in the slightest because, you don’t really care about me do you?’’

‘‘I do care about you.’’ He’s sure about it, even though he’s been extremely bad at showing it.

Even though your eyes are threatening to spill tears, you still muster up the last bit of what’s left of your courage to step closer to him until you’re a few inches away. ‘‘Prove it, then. Show me that you care.’’

His brain is sent into quick overdrive due to your close proximity. There’s a slight hesitation because he only hopes that what he’s about to do is what you’re demanding him to prove. He doesn’t care if you’re still dating the Namjoon guy because he’s settled with the idea that it’s okay if you don’t correspond, it’s not like he did the same to you when you were both younger.

Once his lips press against yours, there’s no turning back. He’s waiting for you to push him back and let him know that your heart’s still taken, but you kiss him with such fervor that he knows in that moment that you’re right, it’s better to wait than to rush right in.

It’s no fairytale kiss, though. There’s desperation in the way you chase his lips, as if you were to slow down he’d find a way to escape from you. You grip the cotton material of his crewneck into your small fists, holding on to the fabric like your life depended on it. The small kiss you had both shared last year was nothing compared to this, and Jungkook’s taken aback by your neediness.

He doesn’t know how you manage to drag him to your childhood bedroom without missing a beat, only separating once you both realize you need to catch your breaths, and even then Jungkook can’t have a minute to take just happened in because your lips attach to his neck to get more of a taste. His fingers curled around your arm, sighing at the way your kisses felt like electricity on his skin.

‘‘Y/N,’’ he calls your name out in a breathy tone, but you’re too immersed in your little bubble to even realize it.

Jungkook groans when you bite into the skin of his neck, then blowing over the red mark as you kissed it better. It’s going to be bruise and he doesn’t like when that happens, but he’s not bothered at all if it comes from you. He forcibly grabs your chin so you can face him, looking at him with big eyes, a small pout, and with your chin messed with drool.

It’s then that Jungkook kisses you hungrily, making you feel like you’re in a dream-like state, though you could partially blame the Christmas eggnog for that. The way he bites at your lips and how your tongues clash together is an extreme juxtaposition as to how you could describe this moment. It’s as if you’re floating on air, clouds surrounding you in a heavenly embrace, angels singing in the background every time his hands touch, grab, hold and caress every part of your body. And yet, even with such a difference, it’s perfect because it’s Jungkook. You’ve been waiting for this too long, which is why your hands creep beneath his crewneck, touching his tonified abdomen tentatively and enjoying the way goosebumps arise on his skin at the sensation of your fingers trailing patterns wherever they caress.

It’s only fair that he pays attention to yours as well. Jungkook’s lips trail from your mouth onto your jawline, planting wet kisses on each space until he begins sucking on the skin of your neck, making you moan in the process. He chooses then that his new favorite sound is the way you voice out the pleasure he gives you. ‘‘Hurry up,’’ you say, ridding the bottom of the crewneck higher over his stomach, making him shiver at the sudden change of temperature.

Jungkook chuckles before completely getting rid of the material, ‘‘Calm down,’’ he sighs as he gives you a sweet smile, ‘‘You know our moms could talk forever.’’

You ogle his chest, admiring the way his training camps have obviously done wonders to his body. ‘‘It’s not them I’m talking about,’’ you correct him with a teasing smile that only makes his grin grow wider, chuckling at your impatience. Jungkook lets out a small gasp of surprise when your hands grasp at his shoulder blades, turning him around so you can back him until the back of his knees hit the edge of your bed. It’s funny how he lets himself be bossed around by someone who’s way smaller compared to his frame.

Jungkook finds leverage on his elbows splayed against the mattress, your knees resting on each side of his hips as you leaned into him and kissing him just as widely as you had done before. Jungkook could fill just how quick things were escalating, especially the way his crotch area was beginning to become a problem he couldn’t possibly control at the moment, not with your own being directly on top of it. In any other situation he would’ve apologized with an awkward laugh, but his breath hitches once your hips start grinding over him.

His hands make their way on the inside of your knitted sweater, provoking goosebumps on the exposed skin. You let out a shaky laugh, halting your movements so you can quickly get rid of the fabric as Jungkook’s eyebrows lift in surprise at your haste and then at the sight of your bra covered breasts. His hands are still steadily placed on each side of your waist, only brought up because your own had redirected them over your breasts, hoping he gets the message on what you want him to do now.

Jungkook hesitantly squeezed one of the round globes, provoking a small moan to come from out of your lips. He wishes to hold you as close as he possibly can because the idea of ever being away from you again has been his main fear as of lately. But he refrains, you look so delicate and he feels like you could easily break. He stares at your body lovingly and your cheeks heat up at the way his eyes ogle your chest like a kid in a candy story. You give his arm a light slap and he chuckles, leaning over you to place a passionate kiss on your lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he says frankly. It doesn’t help to dissipate the flush on your face, but the compliment doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Jungkook leans in to trail kisses past your collarbones and into the swell of your breasts, making you bite your lip with anticipation. He looks at you asking for permission and you nod quickly with parted lips as you start to become impatient for him to make his next move. Jungkook lowers the cups of your breasts, freeing your hardened nipples and immediately envelopes one of them with his lips. “Mph—!” A sigh escapes your lips as you try to memorize the way his tongue traces over your tit. He pays attention to your other one, fingers rolling over the bud and pinching ever so often.

You can feel your panties damp by then, trespassing into the fabric of the black leggings you’re wearing over them. Reaching behind your back, you fumble in unclasping the hooks of the now uncomfortable bra. Jungkook’s forced to stop the undivided attention he had places on your breasts to look at you like he’s lost, why are you going so fast?

Once your hands delve with the buckle of his belt, he has to hold on to your wrists with a firm grasp, ‘‘What are you doing?’’ He asks with quick breath, you blink stoically towards him.

‘‘Uh─getting you naked?’’ You answer with a nonchalant tone, but his hands don’t let go and your demeanor changes, ‘‘D-Did you not want this?’’ Your voice turns smaller, embarrassed that maybe you had pressured him into something he didn’t want to participate in.

Jungkook quickly shakes his head no, ‘‘No, I-I do want this! It’s just─you’re going so fast,’’ he tries to explain, ‘‘I’ve been waiting for this for too long, I don’t wanna rush.’’ Your eyes lit up at the revelation as he waits for you to answer back, only for his back to hit the comforter with a small thud, giggling at the way you urgently kiss him again, but this time with much more care.

‘‘Why didn’t you say so before, stupid?’’ You mumble with a sheepish look, ‘‘I thought it was just going to be─nevermind, I need you right now.’’ You have to force yourself from spitting out any details that could possibly ruin the moment between you two, deciding to wait instead for any emotional confessions you want to make.

He switches positions between the two, panting as he brings you down to the mattress and Jungkook can feel the goosebumps on your skin, whether from the coldness of the room or because of the sheer electricity of his hands caressing your body like it was molded just right for him. He dips his hand lower, cupping your clothed heat on his hand. It makes you tremble and you whine, encouraging him to keep going.

“Baby, you’re really wet,” he comments with a teasing tone and you pout at him. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leggings and he pulls them down as he travels with them, greeted by the sight of the damp cloth of your panties. He exhales with content, caressing your thighs in an up and down motion. You twist underneath him and he has to hold your hips down to calm you down, “Patience is a virtue.”

“I’ve been too patient, do some—Ah!” Your whining is interrupted once Jungkook moves your underwear to the side holding it with his free hand, fingers coming to trace the slick covering your pussy lips. He becomes entranced with the transparent gooey liquid, bringing them close to his face as he separates his fingers and sees a strand connecting between them. “Guk-ah, p-please…” Your needy voice brings him back to reality, delving his fingers back into your exposed heat but this time with intent.

Jungkook’s thumb lifts the hood covering your clit, mouth coming down to give it a small tentative kiss. That action alone has you writhing above him, it makes him chuckle to himself as he dives back in. The moans you let out are loud and clear inside your bedroom, thankful that it’s only you and him inside your house. Your hand pulls at his hair, making him groan against you and the vibrations are felt throughout your body, only adding to the euphoric pleasure you already possess. His fingers trace the inside of your thighs until they reach your entrance, circling the fluttering hole which makes you pull at his hair harder and with your other you hold on to the bedsheets of the comforter tightly into your fist.

Jungkook’s tongue is still working your engorged bud, but he focuses his eyes on you as he dips the first finger inside you. “Oh—fuck,” you let out in a breathy moan. He tries to maintain a rhythm between his two ministrations, but it’s hard when he wants to focus on all of them at once. “‘Nother, please,” you begged once he let your clit rest, quickly following your request by adding another into your warm heat. He lets out a breathless chuckle as he notices how easy it is to thrust both fingers inside of you, your whole crotch area is covered in slick and his wet chin is a dead giveaway to where he was seconds ago.

He watches you unravel over him with such adoration, not even his wettest dreams or dirtiest fantasies could prepare him for this. Seven minutes in heaven he plans to stay in forever. “Guk-ah, I wan’ you. I-Inside, please.” You plead with teary eyes, and he slowly stops, removing his arousal covered fingers from inside you as he makes you sigh in the process. He kisses you again and again, your hazy brain is probably hallucinating all of this right now, but damn is it good. You tug at the crewneck he’s wearing, he’s too overdressed for this occasion. He tends to your demands, quickly getting rid of all the layers of clothing that stop him from being inside of you fully.

“I don’t have a—“

“I’m on the pill.”

You both speak at the same time, making each other chuckle. Jungkook gulps at the idea of taking you raw as the first time together, and you salivate at his hardened length; the head already oozing precum out and you want nothing more than to wrap your lips around it and lick the tip up. You’re just about to when Jungkook quickly grabs your wrist to stop you from reaching him, you look up at him with the big sparkly eyes he has loved for too long.

“I just—I wanna be inside you right now,” he sheepishly admits, and you smile with a nod; sharing the sentiment. You back up until your head rests on the pillows comfortably, relaxing into the mattress as you wait for Jungkook to ready himself. He places a kiss on your lips before placing a hand next to your head, using it as leverage above you. His free hand takes his cock and rubs the tip along your folds, making you squirm with anticipation. Jungkook chuckles, “Are you ready?” He asks with a sweet smile.

“I’ve always been,” you whisper, your hand tucking a strand of his long hair behind his ear.

A caress to his cheek as he nods, slowly pushing the head of his dick into you. You bite into your lip hard, it’s been a while since you had sex with someone and Jungkook’s size and girth was different from the rest. Your walls are tight around him and he has a tough time trying to reach the hilt with you squeezing him so hard, “Baby, relax for me.” He pleads and you nod apologetically, breathing in deep as you feel him reach parts inside of you, you didn’t know existed. Once he’s all the way in, he waits for you to give him the go ahead while he presses kisses into your heated cheek. You wrap your legs around his waist and give him a nod, letting him know he was allowed to start thrusting.

Jungkook manages to hit all the right places, keeping a steady pace as he enters and exits you each time. You’re left to moan and writhe underneath him, letting him take you as he pleases. Your kisses become messy, teeth biting into each other’s lips, teeth grazing against each other as you both tried to fight for the dominant position. It’s that heavy makeout that incites you to push at his shoulders, making him turn in his back, exiting you in the process. Jungkook pants, chest rising and falling with quickness as you straddle his lap, arms connecting behind his neck.

“You always want to win, right?” He chuckles with half lidded eyes, enjoying the way your pussy lips grinded over his twitching length. You bat your eyelashes at him, offering him an innocent smile. The same technique that used to get you everything you wanted when you were younger. Same determination as you seek for what’s yours. He’s under you after all, still a victim to your charms.

Jungkook takes the bulbous head of his cock and teases it in your clit, if you weren’t holding on to him tight you would’ve collapsed into his chest. And by the way you moan his name out, he knows you’ll always look for him no matter the weather. “What a pretty girl,” he coos into your hair and you pinch his nipple in retaliation which only makes him groan in return. “My pretty girl.” He states before sinking himself deep into you again, sighing at the feeling of your hips circling over him. His rough hands guide them as you bounce up and down his length, moaning every time you rose and hissing when you came back down.

He makes sure to keep this image engraved on his head forever. Your breasts bouncing over his face, your thighs working extra hard to keep up with his thrusts, and the way your sounds bounced off the walls of your bedroom.

“You’re doing s-so good, baby.” Jungkook praises you, kneading your ass cheek. “Taking my cock s-so well,” he falls into a trance of admiring the way his length would appear and disappear inside of you, covered in a thick layer of your arousal. It makes him drill into you faster, sitting properly against the bed’s headboard as he takes your hips with force. He’s too turned on to keep treating you so delicately, and the way you moan and pant at the increase in speed only lets him know you enjoy him like this way more. “I-Is it good, baby? Am I-I fucking you well?” He asks in between rapid thrusts, your thighs had given out by then.

You nod and a whimper escapes your lips, “Y-yes, Guk-Ah. S-so good, feels amazing.” Your praise is honest, the fucked out tone in your voice is a clear indicator of how well of a job he was doing. A minute longer and you’ll be right on cloud nine, never wanting to come back down. “Wanna cum Guk-Ah, plea—“ There’s no need for you to even finish your sentence because his thumb rubs your clit in figure eights, making you groan with the intensified feeling of his hips circling inside you deliciously. You can almost see the blinding white light ahead as Jungkook kisses you feverishly. You feel tears escape the corners of your high, the familiar feeling tickling inside you as Jungkook’s thrusts don’t let up. ‘‘Ah! Yes, yes, fuck,’’ you cry out once your orgasm hits. Jungkook holds you close to his chest, trying to soothe your shaking body with his arms. Your walls squeeze and relax continuously around him, it serves him as the impulse he needs to chase his own high.

‘‘I love you, Jungkook,’’ you confess in between panting breaths, ‘‘so much.’’

His release shoots out and he groans, digging crescent moons into your hips. You hiss at the sensation, but giggle at how his eyes are screwed shut and brows still furrowed together, as if he was holding on to the last of his orgasm. In reality, Jungkook is just hoping that once he opens his eyes you’ll still be in his arms. Your fingers tilting his head to face you are very much real, he sees spots once he opens his eyes as they adjust to the room’s lighting.

‘‘I love you too.’’ He says with a fixed gaze and you coo at how perfect this is.

You’re twenty-two when Jungkook’s finally yours.

You’re both twenty-three and it’s another weekend spent at his apartment, he’s been playing for three hours now and you’ve given up on having him pay attention to you. Deciding to switch your plan around and join him instead, if only he would let you play.

‘‘Jungkook, you said it was going to be my turn five rounds ago!’’ You complain with a pout, crossing your arms across your chest.

His gaze is still stuck on the T.V screen, ‘‘Baby, shhh, you’re gonna make me lose.’’ He mumbles as he tries to remain concentrated on the game in hand, but he can hear your humph’s from behind him, ‘‘Patience is a─’’

‘‘Virtue, yeah, who cares.’’ You interrupt him with a roll of your eyes, familiar with the saying a little too well. ‘‘Hope you remember that for later tonight,’’ you add in a mumble, but he doesn’t hear it because of the loud sounds coming from the game on the screen.

‘‘What did you say, babe?’’ He asks with a raised brow, hitting the buttons of the controller with expert ease.

‘‘I’ll call your mom and tell her you don’t wanna share.’’ You joke with a threatening voice, but Jungkook knows better than to take your words so lightly. He pauses the game and turns to look at you with an are you serious? expression on his face, you giggle as you’ve finally got what you wanted.

He apologizes by covering your face with kisses, pleading for you not to tell on him with his mom. You promise not to do so this time, knowing that the woman was probably tired of having to scold his son at his big age.

Plus, ever since Jungkook surprised you with the almost exact replica of the Valentine’s Day card you gave him all those year back, you’ve taken advantage to tease him even more knowing he’s at your beck and call. You always remind him that he came close because the stickers he used were not like the ones you had, but he remembered to add the hearts on the I’s so that’s good enough.

‘‘Alright you can play, but━!’’ He says after he finishes his attack of kisses, ‘‘I’ll be your guide, I can’t risk you messing my record up, no offense baby.’’ None taken as you nod excitedly, you’ll always take whatever chance he gives you.

Jungkook’s finally learned how to share his toys after all.

#heartsforbts #bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #jungkook smut #jungkook au #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #bts smut #f: year 22

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volturiwolf · 3 years

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Unorthodox - An Embry Call x vampire!fem!Reader Story - Part 3

A/N: I thought the second part was big, but this is bigger.

A/N 2: I'M SUPER HAPPY BECAUSE STEFANIA AND GREECE ARE ON THE EUROVISION 2021 FINAL !!

A/N 3: Again, (Y/N) likes expensive things.

A/N 4: This part is a bit cheeky, and it makes my heart melt thinking about Embry.

A/N 5: Enjoy

No of Words: 6300+

Through the parts, mentions of: Abusive relationship, Attacks, Hunt, Illusions, Loneliness, Mental health, Murder, Sex / Sex language / Sexual activities, Suicide, Swear language, Wild imagination

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Part 1 / Part 2

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"Unorthodox" Tag List (reply if you want to be added or removed): @eunoia-kth @eugeniapet @aquanova99 @foggyturtleknightangel @avecletempsy @girlgirlgirlnormal @hshehdyhd @musicandpenguins @letskidnapsenpai @foreveror-never @kpopgirlbtssvt @adaydreamaway08

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Embry’s POV

Hunting was a first-time and unique experience for me. As shifters, we didn’t need to hunt like regular wolves did; we ate normal, human food. We mostly ate the food Emily would prepare for the whole pack, and, thank God, her food was just as amazing as she was herself.

Honestly, we had to give her more credit than she accepted. She had to cook huge food portions to satisfy our insatiable wolf appetite, and she spent too much in her kitchen cooking for us every single day. She was like our wolf mom - if we could consider Sam as our wolf dad, making sure we were fed, healthy, and unharmed every day.

(Y/N) was running beside me, led by her vampire instinct to hunt. She was truly beautiful - she exuded so much power and confidence in whatever she did. I couldn’t help myself from turning to look at her every minute or so, watching the wind passing through her (y/h/l) hair, her eyes glistening in a deep gold color, her lips slightly parted. Every now and then, we would pass by a ray of sunshine, and her skin would glow like the most beautiful diamond I have ever come upon.

I didn’t know if it was the imprinting, but watching her doing her “vampire stuff” did not repel me at all; on the contrary, I felt closer and more drawn to her. She felt comfortable enough to open up to me, though I knew I had many more things to learn about her, and I was willing to wait for her to tell me anything she wanted.

I didn’t realize that transforming into a vampire could be as stressful as it was phasing into a wolf. I never had to think about it, because they are supposed to be our enemies, not people to sympathize with. In the end, I realized that we weren’t so different - just like us, most of the vampires we’ve come across, did not choose this lifestyle. In their case, though, it was someone else who decided for them; someone else who took away their choice in living a normal life.

I knew that, under normal circumstances, I would have never met or come across (Y/N) - and if I did, I would probably keep my distance from her. But I also knew that I was grateful that the pack made this “unofficial” agreement with the Cullens, and I could meet her, and be together maybe? Things were going fast here, and I didn’t exactly know if we were dating or just casual friends because of the imprinting. I didn’t want to believe she felt no connection to me, but I also would not receive the vulnerability she showed before as a sign she was into me. I would wait for her to decide, to tell me what she wanted for us. Whatever she chose, I’d accept it, as long as she was happy and alive.

She slowed down a little, looking directly at me. “At this point, we have to take in our surroundings, to take in every sound and smell around us. It is important to distinguish between an animal and a person, and control ourselves, to avoid anything bad happening.” She started explaining the process of hunting, and I could only nod at her for now, to assure her I understood what she was telling me.

She stood still for a few minutes, closing her eyes and breathing in every smell around us. “It’s a bit easier for me to “read” the environment around me. I create an illusion up to a certain distance, and if anything or anyone falls in the illusion, I can basically “see” them and understand their nature, what they’re thinking, what they’re feeling. That’s why it became a bit easier for me to abstain from human blood in the years after I decided to follow the vegetarian diet. I already kept my distance from humans, so I could avoid them easier.”

She suddenly opened her eyes and ran forward. I ran after her, trying to be close to her but also keep my distance. She stopped on top of a boulder, eyeing a mountain lion a few feet below us. She turned to me and nodded towards the lion, motioning me to stay quiet, before stroking my cheek lightly. I shivered under her touch and when she let go, I craved more.

In a swift move, she launched towards the lion, growling. The lion growled back at her, and I couldn’t help but growl at it as well. (Y/N) let out an animalistic growl as she fought to immobilize the lion, before sinking her teeth into its neck. Normally, the sighting would make my stomach turn, but, again, nothing was normal in our lives.

I watched closely as she sank her teeth in the lion’s neck once more, gulping the blood in the process. When she finally lifted her head, there was only a small strip of blood falling out of the left side of her mouth - her whole appearance still perfect, despite the fight. She looked at me, sweeping the blood with her pointer finger and licking it slowly. I don’t know why I was turned on by the sighting, but I was. Quite turned on.

She smiled cheekily at me, starting to giggle. And then, as if she was air, she suddenly disappeared in front of my eyes. She didn’t run away; she literally disappeared. I slightly freaked out, but then, I felt a small kiss under my ear, and I knew it was (Y/N). The sneaky little bastard “blinded” my vision, and was playing games with my head.

“Sorry. I was just messing with you.” She grinned, and snuggled in my side, wrapping her hands around my face. The smell of blood was still prominent in her breath, but I couldn’t care less. It felt as if she was reciprocating my feelings for her, and I couldn’t be happier.

“Are you okay? Shall we continue? I’m still pretty hungry.” She questioned me, her words barely coming out of her mouth, whispering so as not to ruin our happy little moment. I nodded, and she rubbed her face into my fur, before letting me go and running forward.

A couple of hours and many deer later, we were on our way back to (Y/N)’s place. She invited me over to spend some time together. She lived about 1 mile away from the Cullens; she told me that she appreciated them as much as she appreciated her own privacy and space, and they understood her need to spend time on her own.

She waited a few minutes for me to change back to my human form, giving me the space and privacy I needed. Though I had no issue changing in front of her, I thought it would still be too early for that. After shifting back to human and getting dressed, I came out of the woods.

She waited for me in front of her house. Her house was pretty big, a mix of dark wood and glass, making it extravagant but also warm and welcoming. Her very expensive car that I noticed in the clearing we "trained" a few days ago was parked in her driveway, along with a white silver Cadillac Escalade Hybrid.

She saw my wide eyes and overall shocked expression and laughed. “That is..my “more casual” car, you know, to drive around.” I gulped and nodded, as she motioned me to come into her house.

Matching its exterior, the interior also exuded a mix of luxury and warmth. There was a big bronze chandelier in the foyer, but it was nothing compared to the ones further into the house. At first glance, there was a huge living room, decorated with brown fabrics and furniture of different hues, enhancing the warmth. The kitchen was pretty big, especially considering there lived a vampire who didn’t need to cook. The counters, the cabinets, and the drawers were made out of white marble, in complete contrast to the living room. A wide wooden staircase led to the upper floor. My jaw was probably on the floor by now.

“I really like buying expensive things and such.” (Y/N) grinned at me, watching me turn around the place and take everything in.

“You must be pretty hungry, huh?” She looked at me, serious now, and my stomach growled in response. She smiled widely. “I have quite a few pizzas in the freezer if you don’t mind. I usually wouldn’t buy anything, but I thought that someone, or even you, would come over, so I went out yesterday and bought a few things. Would you be okay with that?” She looked unsure, waiting for my response.

I didn’t realize I hadn't said anything for a few minutes, until (Y/N) came in front of me. “Embry?” My name came so pure out of her mouth. “Are you okay? Are you feeling okay?” Her voice sounded concerned, as she examined my face for any signs that would “betray” a lack of wellbeing or something.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it. I just didn’t expect that you would go out of your way to make sure I ate if I ever came here.” I was indeed shocked, I didn’t lie.

“No, of course I would. I didn’t expect you to come over, but I just hoped you would.” She smiled, lowering her eyes to the floor.

I came closer to her and stroked her cheek lightly. She gasped slightly, but I felt her melt on my hand. My heart was beating so fast, pounding so loudly, full of love and nerves. I didn’t think about it twice before I leaned in and pecked her lips lightly.

I heard her gasping at my action, and I pulled away, worried that I scared her away. That wasn’t the case though, as she grabbed my neck carefully, afraid of her own strength, pulling me back to her and kissing me with more passion this time. The fireworks and stars I saw and the fire that was burning deep inside me were definitely not a part of any illusion. It was a reality - the reality we were currently living and experiencing together.

I captured her face between my hands and she swirled her hands around my shoulders and neck, keeping me close. She cooled down my nerves, and I set her body aflame. Even after we pulled away, we stayed close, foreheads touching, eyes closed, just feeling each other and relaxing under each other’s touch. (Y/N) was the first to speak.

“How about you go take a hot shower, and I’ll prepare the pizzas?”

She stroked my hair while looking me deep in the eyes and I just wished this moment would last forever. I was absolutely delighted and felt blessed to have met my imprint and mate for life. I couldn’t even remember what life was like before her, and I couldn’t even bear the thought that I would have never met if she wasn’t bitten and transformed into a vampire, over 100 years before me. I didn’t mean I was grateful for the vampire who bit her, or vampires in general, but I was grateful I had her.

“Okay.” The words barely came out of my mouth, before I kissed her once again.

“Let me help you.” She took my hand and guided me upstairs. She showed me the bathroom and brought me freshly-washed, fluffy towels, clear underwear, long jeans, a woolen t-shirt, socks, and slippers. I looked at her curiously.

“I bought a few things if you ever wanted to crash here.” She confessed, a kind of guilt on her face. I smiled widely and kissed her once again.

“Thank you, love.” She relaxed and smiled.

“Okay, now, go shower. Relax, have fun with the jet streams.” She winked before running downstairs. I chuckled at myself, and hopped in the shower, turning the jet streams on, and relaxing further into my thoughts.

----------------------------------------------------------

About half an hour later, I jumped off the shower, clean and relaxed. I quickly dried off and got dressed. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. I would have never thought of being this happy in my life.

I didn’t have the best childhood. I never met my father; I never knew who my father even was, but I definitely knew he was a Quileute by now. My mom, however, was a Makah, an outsider of the Quileute tribe, so she didn’t know about the shape-shifters.

There were a lot of one-sided fights with her when I came home after a long night patrolling. She thought I was going through a rebellious stage, and I just let her believe that. Even Sam offered to tell her the truth about the Quileutes, but I refused. I couldn’t have her getting in trouble or hurt; it would be better if she didn’t know. I sighed deeply and slowly walked downstairs to meet with (Y/N).

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

(Y/N)’s POV

I didn’t mean to watch Embry’s head, but I couldn’t help it. All these images suddenly started flooding my mind; his mother yelling at him for being out of the house at odd hours, but him never yelling back at her, never revealing the real reason for his absence. He was thinking about all the times he asked his mother about his father, but she refused to say anything more and dismissed Embry’s inquiries.

Embry’s head was heavy with these dark thoughts, tangled and disorganized, reminding me of my own. His thoughts were all over the place; small images and scenes here and there like little flashes of memories.

I heard him coming down the stairs and tried to forget about everything for his own sake. In a minute, he entered the kitchen. He looked so beautiful, even a plain pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt. He was mesmerizing, his face calm, a small grin lighting up my world, and, if I hadn’t seen his thoughts, I would think that his head produced only happy thoughts.

Anyone who saw Embry, saw a quiet, reserved, but seemingly happy young man, not what I had just seen for myself. I decided not to talk about it; if he ever felt comfortable talking about it, he would, and I would wait for him, no pressure.

“Like what you see?” Embry grinned seductively. Cheeky bastard.

“I do, actually.” I leaned forward, over the counter standing in the middle of the kitchen, pressing my breasts against the surface. It only lasted for a few seconds, before I sat back straight, but it was enough for Embry to gulp down and his cheeks to turn red under his already tan skin, his eyes wide in shock. Two can play the game, babe.

“Well, come on, the pizzas are ready.” I acted as if nothing happened, and continued acting normal, taking the pizzas out of the oven before handing a plate to Embry from the nearby cabinet. He was standing close to me, watching my every move with a look of questioning.

“Are you okay? You seem as if something is bugging you.” I didn’t see a single image in his mind that could give me any clue as to why he looked concerned.

“I just have a question. It is a weird one, and you don’t have to answer it if you don’t feel comfortable. I suppose that’s personal, but I was just wondering.” I nodded at him to continue. “How did you come up with all this money? Like, I guess the Cullens are rich, Dr. Cullen is a doctor and they probably come from old wealth or something, but how did you afford to buy all these things?” He motioned around the house.

I sighed. “I actually waited for you to ask this question, eventually. First of all, I should let you know that most of Cullens’ money - if not 90-95% of it - comes from trading stock, bonds, foreign exchange, investments; Alice’s visions have helped A LOT. And, everything is legal. Nobody says that visions count as fraud; inside info does, but visions don’t. So..that’s their story. Mine is complicated. It is on the verge of being illegal but not really.”

“What do you mean “illegal”? What, like, you sell drugs or something?” He laughed but then, upon seeing my blank face he stopped. “YOU SELL DRUGS?” He plopped down on a chair.

“Yes, and no. I sell..candy, sugary sweets, gummy bears, anything really that is considered candy. But, I present them as “drugs” to people who I know are interested in buying drugs. I sell them the candy, which is regular candy, sugary and sweet, something a kid would eat. And then, I just stand nearby or a few kilometers away - it depends - and cause them to see illusions, so they actually think they are on drugs. The more they pay for a “drug”, the more intense illusions I create. Most of my regular clients are CEOs, CFOs, businessmen, investors, you name it. Usually, they will organize a party and “book” me in advance to provide them with “drugs”. I always make sure they pay half price in advance and half price when I arrive with the stuff so that I don’t get fooled.”

“Aren’t you afraid of getting caught? Isn’t it dangerous for these people?”

“Embry, I never, ever, present my true self to them. Again, I create an illusion of myself when I collaborate with them. And I am never the same person more than once; they actually think there is a whole network behind it. And, I always make sure they are safe and don’t take things too far. That’s why they “book” me. I’m like a designated babysitter for the “junkies”. I take all necessary precautions so that they have fun, don’t harass others, and don’t do things that will get them killed. It’s an extra paid service.”

“And that pays a lot, huh?”

“Everything you see around, and many more, have been purchased with this money. Though, I recently had Alice manage my money and invest them wherever she thinks it’d be profitable for me. You know, so I don’t risk getting caught, and actually start making money in a completely legal way. Though, I have to admit, I liked the small doses of danger, and the money was REALLY good.”

Embry looked skeptical. “Normally I would say that this still seemed illegal and it would be better for you to stop. But,..” He stood up from his chair and came closer to me. “...I also know that you must know what you’re doing by now, and you’re not doing anything that is more illegal than what your clients are doing. So, I think you should choose for yourself, see the pros and the cons, and see what would be better for you.” He wrapped his hands around me and held me against his hot chest.

“If I’m being honest, I have enough money by now to last me a lifetime - a human’s lifetime, maybe two or three. And..I think it is time to go legal. I think Alice’s idea was the right one. It will also give me a chance to be closer to her and the rest of the family - though I told her I didn’t want to take advantage of her gift, she assured me that I wouldn’t.” I sighed. There was a lot of pressure in my head, but Embry’s presence and touch actually managed to keep me calmer than usual.

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“I guess it’s time to go deeper, so shoot away.”

“When you said it was easier to stay away from humans when feeding, did you ever actually kill people?”

“Well, I do have pretty good control over my thirst now. I still had to go through the newborn phase though, for a year or two. I killed many people, I couldn’t contain myself, until my gift started developing more, and I could see my ugly, scary side in their head. When I told you I can see what people are thinking..? I basically can see the images and illusions in someone's head - kind of like what Edward does, but he can actually read someone’s very thoughts at a specific moment. I can only see the images. So, I could see that I wasn’t who I wanted to be. I didn’t realize it at first. But I didn't want to be like the vampire who attacked me. I didn’t want to be that kind of monster. I know I am a monster, but I didn’t want to live at the expense of other humans. My life being taken away from me did not excuse me from taking other lives.”

Embry was speechless. He only had to squeeze me harder for me to understand that he was trying to sympathize with me. It couldn’t be easier for him when he first phased, and every other moment from that point on couldn’t be any easier. I had to leave my family behind for their own good. He has to live with who he is; he has to keep the secret from his own mother to protect her while going through her critical and vigilant gaze. She was certainly concerned for her son, but knowing about the shifters would most likely put her in great danger, and Embry could not risk that.

We have long forgotten the pizzas, but I reminded myself that the wolf had to eat, so I forced myself out of his arms. Embry looked upset as if I rejected him. “You MUST eat. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

He nodded and grabbed a few slices, devouring them in under a minute, taking a few more on his plate. I looked amused at him; I never saw anyone eat so much so fast. Within ten minutes, he finished all five pizzas I had baked. He looked proud of himself, a wide smile spread across his face.

“You sure have an appetite!” I laughed at him.

“I could say the same about you.” He grinned back, reminding me of the fact that I did actually kill one mountain lion and about a dozen deer.

“Touché.” I laughed and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me up in the air. I wrapped my legs around his waist and we just stayed there, foreheads against each other, eyes studying the other’s soul. He kissed me lightly and I could only feel happiness, my undead heart bursting with love, forgetting about everything and everyone.

Suddenly, my phone rang. We both sighed deeply. “Moment ruined.” I said disappointed, climbing out of Embry’s grip, and unwillingly picking up my phone. It was Alice.

“Alice? What happened?” I was worried. Alice did not just call without any reason.

“(Y/N). The newborns. They are coming earlier than we thought.” Alice was panicking by now.

“What do you mean “earlier”? How much earlier?”

“They may be arriving early in the morning, sometime after the sun has risen.”

“Are you sure? That’s like...” I checked the kitchen clock, it was already 11 pm by now. “...in less than 9 hours!”

“I’m positive. Edward and Bella just left. They will be camping in the mountains, where they had agreed. Jacob will probably be on his way there. The wolves will be getting ready by now. I called Sam. They will be staying away from the reservation tonight, just in case. Is Embry with you?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Okay, good. It will be better if he stayed with you for tonight. The further he is from the reservation right now, the better. The wolves don’t want to risk the safety of their families right now. Only Brady and Collin will stay behind, to make sure everyone back in the reservation is safe.”

“I understand. Thanks for calling, Alice. I’ll see you in the morning. Bye.” I hung up the phone and I turned to look at a shocked Embry, his jaw clenching. “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah.” He sighed deeply. “We’ll manage, (Y/N). Don’t worry. It doesn’t matter if it’s 9, 10, 12, or 15 hours. We’ll be good.”

I nodded. “Yeah.” I paused. “I hope so. Can..Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, whatever you need.”

“Can you communicate with the pack? You can use my phone. Tell them to come here. I have plenty of rooms for them to sleep in.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Are you sure? I mean, that’s kind of you, but, won’t the smell annoy you?”

“The smell will be fine. What matters now is that they are safe. They can’t stay in the woods. They need a good night’s sleep. Please, talk to them.”

“Okay.” Embry took my phone, dialing a number, and waiting for a reply. Finally, somebody picked up, and Embry was talking almost frantically to the other person. About 5 minutes later, he ended the call and gave me my phone back. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“Good. I’ll go get things ready.” I pecked Embry’s lips and ran to turn the heater higher on and get pillows, bedsheets, covers, and blankets for the rooms. I also laid some hair, body, face, and feet towels, in case they wanted to have a bath or a shower.

Apart from my own, the house had four additional rooms that I used as guest rooms. When I bought the house, my thought was that the Cullens may be visiting someday and would like to stay over, so each pair could have their own room. Now, they will accommodate the wolf pack and I was just as happy as if it was family coming over. Well, technically, they were family - they were Embry’s family, so that would likely make me family too? I just hoped they saw me like family.

I finished getting everything ready, spraying some spray freshener around each room and through the corridors, to cover up my own scent. I said I wouldn’t mind their scent, which I wouldn’t, but I didn’t know how my own scent would make them feel, especially when it is spread all over the house. I just wanted them to sleep well, and rest; for tomorrow would be a tough day for all of us. I smelled and heard them quicker than I saw them, and I ran downstairs to stand next to Embry. He took my hand in his own, and we walked towards the door.

Opening the large entrance door, we were greeted by six tired and upset shifters - Sam, Jared, Paul, Quil, Leah, and Seth; though Quil and Seth were a bit happier to be there, compared to the others.

“Hey!” I greeted them, extending my hand to Sam, the Alpha of the pack. He looked at my hand, looked at Embry who nodded, and then, he shook my hand.

“Thank you for having us in your house. I hope we are not intruding.” He was careful with his words, his face serious and stern.

“Of course you are not! Please, do come in.” I motioned them to come further into the house, and they took small steps coming in. I smiled encouragingly. “I have prepared your rooms. Please, follow me.” I walked up the stairs, turning to the left corridor, them following behind.

“Unfortunately, some of you will have to share between you.” I informed them as we were walking through the corridor. “This room is for Sam. As the Alpha, he will be sleeping on his own.” Sam laughed at the others and thanked me. I continued to the next room.

“This room is for Jared and Paul.” Jared and Paul looked at each other and shrugged. “Don’t worry. All the beds are quite big, in case you have restless sleep, or just don’t want to be close to each other.” They barely hold their laughs. I had to admit, they were quite amusing.

“Next, this room is for Quil and Seth.” They turned to each other, and high-fived, smiling widely and howling.

I took them further into the corridor, to the biggest guestroom. “And, this last room is for Leah, to have some privacy away for the guys. I know what it feels like being the only girl surrounded by guys, and honestly, I couldn’t handle being surrounded by boys with extremely high hormones.” I turned to Leah, and I saw her smiling at me, mouthing a “Thank you”. I smiled back at her, I felt for her more than anyone.

“Also, as you may notice later, I have also laid some towels on your beds in case you wanted to have a shower, a bath, or use the jacuzzi.”

“THERE’S A JACUZZI?!” Jared, Quil, and Seth practically screamed. Sam turned to stare at them like how a disappointed parent would stare at his 5-year-olds who were causing trouble. Leah rolled her eyes, disappointed but also kind of expecting that. Paul and Embry couldn’t stop laughing. I tried to keep a straight face, stifling my laugh.

“Yeah, every room has a bathroom, equipped with a toilet, a sink, a shower, a bathtub, and a separate jacuzzi. You are also welcome to go anywhere around the house if you can’t really sleep, or if you feel like it. I don’t have anything prepared if you are hungry, but you may bake and eat anything from the freezer. If you need anything else, feel free to knock on my door or call me on my phone. It is written on the phone catalog, near the phone, on your bedside tables. And my room is across the hall, at the end of the corridor. I will leave you to it now. Have a good night's sleep.” I smiled, and they all said their goodnights, walking towards their rooms.

I took Embry’s hand in mine and led him to my own room. I opened the door, walking into the room. “You will be sleeping here tonight. Hope you don’t mind.” Embry was grinning, a wide smile spread across his face, radiating true happiness. He held me in his arms, squeezing me, his wide smile never leaving his face.

“I wouldn’t mind sleeping on a cement floor if it meant that I slept with you in my arms.”

“I could say the same. If I could sleep at all.” I laughed and he joined me. “Shhh, the others will hear us. I don’t want them to feel uncomfortable or weirded out.”

“They won’t, believe me. I think that you are the first vampire to warm up to them. Pun intended.” He laughed.

I lightly shoved him back, afraid to put too much force on him. “It’s time to sleep, mister. You have a long day ahead of you.”

“Only if you lay in my arms while I sleep.” He lightly swayed me around, as if we were dancing, and walked me towards the bed. He lied down, me sitting on his lap, each of my legs on each side. It was a very intimate moment but I knew that he had to rest well.

“We’ll have plenty of time for that. You now need to rest. Please.” I stroked his head, my fingers running through his thick hair, which shined even under the dim light that came through the windows, from the full moon in the sky. He sighed and I climbed out of his lap and sat on the bed. He took my hand and kissed it, making my insides melt and my eyes slightly stink with venom.

“You promise you will stay with me forever?” He looked me deep in the eyes, a mix of worry and seriousness in his voice. I looked startled but confident in my answer.

“I promise. You are the most important person in my life now. I won’t leave you, ever. But you have to promise you will stay alive tomorrow. For me, for your mom, for the pack, for the tribe.” There was a pause. Nothing was certain for tomorrow; no one knew what would happen, but we could only hope.

“I promise. I won’t leave you like that.” He shot me a small smile and he leaned in to kiss me lightly on the lips. I kissed him back, thinking that it may be our last kiss, but not wanting this thought to come true.

He slowly laid back on the bed, pulling me in his arms, and kissing me on my forehead. We laid there for a few minutes before his breaths started becoming more steady and heavy, indicating that he finally fell asleep. I looked at the beautiful man in front of me. I wished everything was different; that we met under different conditions; that we were free and careless.

“I promise you, when all this ends, I will take you anywhere, show you everything.” I whispered, kissing him on his cheek, him smiling in his sleep.

We talked for what felt like hours; Embry was telling me stories about the pack, their imprints, the shifting, and everything in between. I lifted a dome-like illusion around the house and the surrounding area, in case anyone came too close to us, and I closed my eyes, listening to Embry’s steady heartbeat, as he took deep breaths. This was the happiest I had ever been in my almost 153 years of life. I sank further into Embry’s arms and wished I could stay there forever.

----------------------------------------------------------

I didn’t realize how much time had passed until I opened my eyes. I was still in Embry’s arms, and thankfully, he was still asleep and really warm. He was breathing deeply and steadily, his lips slightly parted. I smiled at the sight; he looked so peaceful and pure, I couldn’t imagine him killing vampires. He seemed too good for me, for the world.

However, I couldn’t calm down, too nervous about what was going to happen today. I slipped away from Embry’s embrace, trying not to wake him up. I slowly stood up from the bed and looked at the clock on my bedside table. 3:45 am. Less than 4 hours away from the newborns’ arrival.

I grabbed my phone and ran quietly towards my bedroom door, opening it, and slipping away, trying to go undetected by the wolves who slept across the corridor. I ran down the stairs and out of the house. I fixed my brain on a decision I made on the spot, hoping both Alice and Edward would pick up on my actions.

I was worried we would not be able to realize the exact location of the newborns at all times, so I went out to make sure we had the upper hand in terms of time. That’s what I kept telling myself - the actual reason why I did this was actually more selfish. I wanted to know how many of them we’ll be dealing with; how many I would have to mess up with, mentally or physically. How many vampires I would have to fight off to keep Embry safe.

Alice saw the newborns coming out of the sea in her vision, so that was my lead. I assumed they would travel through the Quilcene Bay, which was right in the middle, between Seattle and our fighting location. The 70 miles that separated my house from the bay were nothing for me. I was mostly motivated by anger and protectiveness towards Embry - I had to know and warn the others.

I reached close to the bay and went up to a higher point, so I could watch everything around me better. I looked at my phone. 4:15 am. That was faster than I expected. I decided I would just sit here and wait. The clearing where the Cullens and the wolves chose for the fight to take place was about 35 miles away, which was still far away from Forks, and close enough to the mountains where Bella, Edward, and Jacob would be staying for the night.

My phone rang unexpectedly. I saw the caller ID. Alice.

“Hey, Alice. What’s going on?” I answered casually.

“(Y/N)! Where are you? Why did you leave your home?”

“Hey! Don’t worry. The wolves are safe.”

“You know I’m not worried about the wolves! Why are you after the newborns?”

“I just want to make sure we have the numbers. I need to make sure, Alice.”

Alice didn’t say anything for a while. “Okay. Just be careful, okay?”

“Okay. I will call you later. Just make sure the wolves are ready. I will break down the illusion when you are near. I’ll probably meet you at the clearing.”

“Okay. Bye, (Y/N).”

“Bye, Alice.” I ended the call and just waited, and waited.

It was almost 5 am, when I saw movement in the water. I leaned closer, trying to be careful to stay out of their way while watching them closely. I knew I would probably be the only one they wouldn’t be able to see, “blinding” their vision if they came close to me.

From Alice’s vision, I remembered about 15 or 20 newborns, but I guessed the number changed during this time. I was now staring at about 30 or 40 newborns, way more than what we expected. It was as if whoever created - I assumed the redhead everyone was talking about - did not just want to take down the Cullens, but the whole town of Forks.

They were walking rather than running, which I thought was odd for newborns, as most of us tend to run all the time at that stage of life. With this speed, they would probably arrive at the clearing in 2 and a half to 3 hours, just like Alice predicted. Hopefully, they would not come across any humans who would, inevitably, become their meal.

I ran away, towards the mountains and the clearing. I would warn the others when I went there, knowing they would have enough time to get prepared.

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songbirdstyles · 3 years

Text

sparks

summary: you’re a music journalist assigned to covering one of harry styles’ gigs, and he’s absolutely smitten with you. (part one.)

warnings: slight fluff, excessive liberties taken about music journalism; smut in later chapters, angst in later chapters

word count: 8.2k

inspo.: almost famous - cameron crowe; sparks - the who; hello, i love you - the doors

You’d never truly gotten a big assignment before - sure, you’d gotten a few pieces here and there detailing local LA bands that you knew would never live to see more than 100,000 monthly listeners on Spotify, and they mostly ended up buried by your higher-ranking coworker’s higher end stories on the front covers - and, for the most part, you’d honestly been fine with it. You’re fresh out of college, the newest recruit to your company and your colleagues who are sent out to tour with big bands and artists have been here for years, some even decades, and you suppose they deserve the opportunities more than you, don’t they?

You work your way up, your boss had told you the first day you’d started working, following him around like an eager puppy as he showed you the office. Eventually - if I’m impressed with you - you’ll get something big.

It’s enough for you. Small bands playing in hole-in-the-wall clubs and restaurants may not be the exact thing you’d envisioned when you’d set your sights on being a music journalist but it’s worked out well for you so far, hasn’t it? You’ve made friends - even dated the lead singer of an underground rock band who cheated on you hardly two weeks into the relationship - and your portfolio is slowly building, stacked with exposés and detailed recounts of small gigs that you’d watched from backstage. Eventually, you’ll leave this company and move on to something bigger, like Rolling Stone, and your career will take off until you’re practically the face of music journalism.

And, really, those dreams have carried you through college and the first year of your career, putting your all into every article and every piece just so your boss can tug you into his office one day with a rarely-seen grin to finally tell you -

“I want you to write an article on Harry Styles.”

You furrow your eyebrows, shifting in the cushy office seat that your boss has for guests in his office. It’s a facade that you’ve learned to acknowledge, because, no matter how much he makes it look like he appreciates guests in his office, you know he regards you as nothing more than an interloper, even if he’d invited you there to begin with. “Harry Styles?”

“You’ve heard of him, haven’t you?” Mike asks, light shining off his bald head, and your mouth opens and closes a few times uselessly.

“Of course I have!” You push yourself to sit up straighter in your seat, staring up at your boss with shock written in every feature of your face. You, writing about Harry Styles? God, you nearly want to pinch yourself to see if you’re dreaming. “Write an article about - about what?”

Mike scoffs in that pretentious way that makes you hate ever having to talk to him, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at him. “He’s coming to do a few shows along the West Coast. You can go to one or two - talk to him a bit, talk to his band - you’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

“With small bands, sure - Tacocat and - and the Mystery Lights -” You swallow thickly, and Mike stares down at you in your seat like he’s unimpressed with your enthusiasm, or lack thereof. And it’s not that you aren’t executed - but, Christ. Going from bands performing in underground clubs to Harry Styles is like going straight from crawling to flying a fucking plane and you’re not sure if any of your experience with the musical locality in LA could prepare you for that. “I mean, that’s huge, Mike.”

“It is huge,” Mike confirms, crossing his thick arms over his chest, leaning against the desk before you as though he’s immune to sitting in his seat behind his desk like a normal boss. “Do you not want to do it? Because Melissa, you know - she’d love to, was going on and on about it last week -”

“No!” Your cheeks flush at the volume your voice raises to, and if you didn’t know better you could swear you see the ghost of a grin on Mike’s face. “I want to, Mike, I really want to - it’s just crazy.” There’s a pregnant pause between the two of you, your boss nodding smugly down at you as you struggle for words, before you ask the question burning the tip of your tongue with its desire to be heard. “But - why me? I’m sure you have people more qualified for it -”

“Easy,” Mike says, cutting you off and you’d be annoyed in any other instance but you’re too desperate to hear his answer. “Look, Harry’s a young guy. Younger than anyone else our people have interviewed - I think he’ll respond more to a young, pretty girl like yourself than someone older than him.”

Well, that makes sense, you suppose. The only coworker even close to you in age is Melissa, and she’s pushing 30 as it is. You’re 23 - graduated college just over a year ago, and by far the newest recruit this company has taken in years - but you had always imagined that was the main reason you wouldn’t get many big articles, and here it’s the main factor in you getting what will surely be the highlight of your portfolio once you apply to Rolling Stone. An interview with Harry Styles - God, they’ll probably foam at the mouth when they see it, and a grin spreads across your face as you think of it.

“Is that a yes?” Mike questions, blonde eyebrows raised high and nearly disappearing into his scalp.

“Of course,” you respond without another moment of hesitation, and you push yourself to stand, office chair rolling behind you with the force, and it hits the wall behind you with a soft thump. “Yes - of course - of course.”

“Great.” And he crosses to the other side of his desk, pushing aside a few loose papers and folders on his desk, and you clutch your hands in front of your stomach as you watch him, practically bouncing up and down with uncontained joy and fear bubbling inside of you. The last time you’d felt like this was the first time you got a real assignment - more than just ranking songs and discussing new album releases - and you’d been sent to a strip club to cover a gig from an up-and-coming band. Back then, you’d never expected to ever feel more excited over anything in your life, and yet, here you are, eight months later, fighting back the urge to burst into joyful tears. “They come in a week - I’ll send you the address - if you need help with your questions -”

“I’ll ask Francine,” you finish the same advice he gives you every time you’re assigned an article, referring to your oldest coworker - a little old woman who’s been with the company since the 70s. She’s always been more than willing to help you with your assignments but this - you need to do this by yourself. “Thank you so much, Mike, this is - this is great.”

“Don’t let me down,” he says, pointing his finger at you, and you nod furiously. “I’m trusting you on this - it’s a big opportunity.”

“I won’t disappoint you,” you promise, holding up your crossed fingers just to show him how much you mean it, and you know it’s the truth - you’ll make this piece the best damn one this company has ever seen if it’s the last thing you ever do.

The night begins a bit - rocky, to say the least.

For one, you couldn’t decide what to wear, even after spending nearly a half hour trying on every variation of clothes in your closet and tossing them onto the floor of your studio apartment when they didn’t satisfy your needs. In the past you’d worn to gigs what you’d wear if you were a simple concertgoer, albeit a bit more modestly, but you can’t decide what you would wear to a Harry Styles concert if you got the regular chance to - and you’d never even dreamt that it would happen in the first place -

Well, you peruse your closet intently and land on a pair of patterned flare pants and a long sleeve sweater. It only seems fitting for the chilly weather outside, and you fold a shirt into your bag in case you need to change if it gets hot backstage. You’re not dressed to impress, necessarily - you’re dressed to get a job done, as Mike would always say, but how could you be expected to not attempt to impress Harry Styles? It’s a preposterous idea. You’re sure anyone would understand.

Journalism pass - phone - keys - deodorant - when you’ve checked your bag over three times to ensure you have everything necessary you finally leave, locking your door shut behind you and ordering an Uber to take you to the concert.

You hadn’t anticipated Uber and Lyft being absolutely overloaded with patrons due to the concert just a half hour away and you need to be there by 6:30 at the very latest to ensure you get in and can at least talk to Harry before he goes on - a quarter of your questions are geared towards how he feels pre show and you can’t get pre show questions after the show - that’s barbaric. But the minutes inch closer to 5:30 and your Uber driver is still ten minutes away and your heart beats so fast against your chest you think you might vomit right into the street in front of your building -

You’re in the car by 5:45. It’s not ideal, and you know you’re cutting it close, but hopefully you’ll be there before the soundcheck ends. It’s always an ideal time to take photos, watching the band warm up and check mics, and with a piece like this, you need all the opportunities for pictures you can get.

And traffic is horrible - you suppose that’s also to be expected, and your Uber driver curses in a language you can’t recognize as cars cut him off on the highway and if you were a different person, you’d recommend a shortcut he takes, but he doesn’t look like he wants to hear a single word come from your mouth. He had given you a dirty look when you entered the car, and that’s enough to make you shut up and pray for the entire car ride that you make it on time.

6:27. Mike would piss himself if he knew how close you cut it, and you hop out of the car with a speed you didn’t even know you could muster, pushing past the buzzing crowd standing in front of the main entrance. The hoard of people seems to have a steady heartbeat, pulsing with excitement much like your own, and you can’t help but smile as you make your way around the group, goosebumps cropping up over your skin as your teeth chatter in the coldness. For a moment you fear that the directions to the backstage entrance that Mike had given you were total bullshit - but then you see the door, blocked by a burly security guard that glowers at you as you walk up to him like you’re something sticky beneath his shoe.

“Hi!” you call, breath exploding in a white cloud in front of you in the cool night air. The security guard smells so strongly of booze that you need to try harder than you’d care to admit not to scrunch your nose - you cough softly. “Let me - um - find my pass - I’m with Autoamerican, the magazine?”

Fingers grab onto your journalism pass, deep within your bag, and you tug it out, flashing it to the security guard with a slightly nervous grin. All of the gigs you’d been to before hadn’t even had backstage doors - to get backstage, you just had to climb onto the stage and walk behind the wings - but this is a fucking stadium, not just a measly club, and a big one, at that. In your youth you’re sure you could recall your dad watching a football game that occurred in this very stadium - funny how life turns out, sometimes.

“Autoamerican?” the security guard questions, bringing his face closer to your badge as the wafting smell of alcohol increases, and he raises his eyebrows with a scoff. “Never heard of it.”

“Oh.” you pause, feeling your teeth beginning to chatter in the cool February air. You’re not quite sure what to say - you’d assumed Mike had called to arrange the entire thing, hadn’t he? And this is the time you’re supposed to be here - “well, we’re not as big as Rolling Stone magazine, but - we’ve done interviews with The Cure, The Smiths - even Zeppelin, at one point -”

Your voice trails off into silence. He doesn’t care. He’s looking at you like you’re some innocent teenage girl, trying to bribe your way backstage so you can bombard the artist and not a fully grown woman here on business, goddammit. And you’re not sure what to say - he doesn’t believe you, clearly, and you hadn’t anticipated that even as you listed all the ways tonight could go wrong.

“Look, kid,” he begins, and that really has your blood boiling, eyes narrowing to glare at him. “We get this all the time. I’m a journalist - I’m with the crew - it’s a bunch of bullshit. Now go to the front with your general admission tickets like the rest of them -”

“I have a pass - I’m a journalist!”

“Sure -”

“I can call my boss if you want proof!”

And before you can reach into your bag to search relentlessly for your phone to follow through on the promise like you intend to, the door the man is guarding suddenly swings open, nearly hitting the guard in the ass as it opens out. You take a step back as dim light from inside floods the darkness, and a man steps out of the doorway, his eyes darting between you and the security guard.

“Are you with Autoamerican?” the man questions, raising his finger to point at you as though he could be speaking to anyone else. You nod furiously, and you hold up your journalism pass again just to prove it. “You can come inside, then - c’mon, Steve, she’s got a pass, for God’s sake -”

And you can’t resist flashing the guard a smug smile as he steps to the side to let you inside, rolling his eyes so far back into his head that all you can see is a strip of white.

The man lets you inside and the door shuts behind you, and you nearly knock straight into a second security guard standing by the door inside, as though trying to stop people from going out. And, well - you’ve been backstage at more concerts than you could count but this is certainly bigger, better, bustling with people carrying equipment and makeup artists and more people you couldn’t possibly identify. You’re half inclined to reach into your bag and grab your notebook to jot down exactly what you’re seeing so you can make sure to include it in the article, but you have a distinct feeling you’ll never forget it.

“I’m Jeff,” the man tells you, already setting off through the people, and you’re quick to follow, trying to maintain your pace beside him. After a second of walking in silence you realize he’s waiting for you to say yours - you clear your throat and introduce yourself, and he sends you a smile. “The band just finished their soundcheck, if you’d like to have a word with them before they go on - what’s the article about, anyway?”

Jeff shoulders the two of you through lingering groups of people until you emerge into a small hallway lined with doors, and you can hear bustling noise coming from the one closest to you - holy shit, is that Harry?

“Um - just about the shows, the tour, how everything’s going. My boss basically told me to do what I want with it, so I’ll have a better idea once I speak to the band.” It’s the loosest instruction you’ve ever been given for a piece - you’d expected a clear cut outline - but perhaps with an artist this big, Mike trusts you to know what to write. “It likely won’t be anything too personal, but I’d love to get a chance to speak with Harry before and after.”

“Sounds great,” and you can tell he’s stressed - you wonder if he’s always anxious before his client’s shows, or if there’s something special about tonight that has him worried - and then he reaches past you, twisting the doorknob closest to you and holding the door open for you to enter before him, and you give him a gracious smile before walking in.

The room isn’t as crowded with people as you’d expected but they’re bustling with energy - a woman and a man, holding a guitar, lean against the wall with each other - two other women sip water bottles, laughing loudly amongst each other - another woman leans above someone, their body hidden from view except for their legs, covered in silk, floral printed pants -

Your breath catches in your throat as Jeff shuts the door behind you both, and the sound of the door clicking shut draws far more attention to yourself than you’d expected - it seems like every pair of eyes lands on you and Jeff, and you’d decided on being a music journalist to keep away from being the center of attention. You’ve always preferred being behind the scenes, a bit, at least until your career progresses until you’re a household name for music journalism, and now -

You feel very much in the scenes, eyes on you as Rhiannon plays in the background.

And then Jeff is tapping you on your shoulder, leading you around the room to the small groups of people lingering - you shake hands with Mitch and Sarah, the couple against the wall, and the rest of his band, and they’re so nice your smile feels like it’s going to break your face in half. You’ll need to interview them at some point - nothing too intense, and you may not even need to, if Harry’s answers are satisfactory enough - and you can already feel yourself building a strange sort of rapport with the band, their kindness rubbing off on you until you practically glide beside Jeff to the woman bent over Mr. Floral Pants, whose identity you’re fairly certain you’ve already deduced.

It doesn’t make it any more surprising when the woman steps aside where she’s carefully applying powder to the man’s face, and then Harry fucking Styles is staring up at her with a smile and an outstretched hand, suit jacket matching the floral pattern of his pants. His curls are carefully slicked back from his face, skin matte with the powder the woman resumes applying to the side of his face that isn’t turned to you, and you swallow your shock before reaching to shake his hand, Rhiannon turning into Hello, I Love You, playing from a source you can’t identify.

“Nice t’meet you,” Harry says when you’ve told him your name and the magazine you work for - Jeff had already mentioned it, but it is customary to repeat it to whomever you may have to interview. “Y’know, I love Autoamerican - told Jeff, s’the only magazine I’d let interview me backstage. Don’t usually allow it.”

“Really?” your stomach flips as Harry stops bouncing his arm, but it takes just another half second for him to untwine his hand from yours - you’re sure it’s because the makeup artist fretting above him is using her thumb to wipe off powder from his nose, but it still makes your heart thump faster against your chest. “I assumed most people haven’t heard of it - it’s nowhere near Rolling Stone.”

“I love it,” he insists, dropping your hand, and he looks so casual, as if this interaction isn’t blowing up your entire life, and you’re brought back to the many moments you’d spent as a teenager fawning over him in his One Direction days - God, this feels like a dream, and you’re half inclined to pinch yourself in case it is. Maybe you’ll wake up in Mike’s office to him giving you another shitty underground LA band to interview. “The interview with Sublime s’great - read it all the time.”

You swallow thickly, grin spreading wider across your face, and before you can open your mouth to tell him about Francine’s go-to story about how Eric Wilson had flirted with her while she interviewed them for the story, Jeff interjects - “Steve hadn’t even heard of it.”

“Steve’s an idiot,” Harry starts, and you giggle - his lips lilt upwards just a bit. “Hope he wasn’t hasslin’ you ‘bout it.”

“Just a little,” you say, hoisting your bag further up your shoulder just as the makeup artist drops the powder back into the apron slung around her waist, and her manicured nails tilt Harry’s head around for a moment before she seemingly deems his makeup satisfactory before leaving, sending you a tight lipped smile as she goes. “I’d love to ask you a few questions before the show - nothing too heavy - and then I’ll observe the concert and how everything goes, ask a few questions after.”

“Sounds great,” Harry responds, lifting his fist with his thumb up and you didn’t think your heartbeat could grow any faster or louder but you suppose today is just proving you wrong time and time again. “D’you need t’record m’answers? S’a bit loud in here.”

The truth is, you’re sure you’ll have this entire experience engraved in your brain for years to come - you’ll remember every word he utters for you until your dying days - but it is more practical to have a recording. You swing your bag off your arm and open it, digging through the jumbled mess of items inside until you find your phone, and you hold it up with a nod. “Yeah - there isn’t anywhere a bit quieter, is there?”

It takes a minute of bustling - Jeff tells you two instructions to go down the hall into another room where you may find more silence - and Harry promises, accent thick and eyes rolling, to be back in twenty minutes or less, if tha’s enough time for you, ma’am, and you try to trick yourself into thinking the burn flushing up your cheeks is due to the heat of the room.

Down the hall is another door that Harry opens for you, letting you walk in first. It’s a small room, clearly meant for storage, and he shuts the door behind the pair of you. There’s - luckily, or perhaps unluckily - just enough room for you two have at least a few feet between you, and he leans against the wall with an air of casual elegance you couldn’t hope to achieve as you scroll through your phone to search for the voice recorder app.

“Hope this s’good enough - is it?” Harry inquires, leaning his head closer to yours, and you nod. “Good - wish there was a nicer spot for you, but -”

“Don’t worry about it,” you interject, smiling up at him, and he grins back, and your stomach churns violently. You almost feel like you could vomit - when he goes on, you’ll go and have a bit to eat at the table set up with foods that Jeff had wheeled you past when you arrived. Eating seems to solve more of your nerves than you’d care to admit, and you feel like you’re nearly 95% nerves right now. Your fingers fiddle with the voice recorder app, adding a title to the recording while entirely too focused on the sounds of Harry’s breathing above you, and you can practically fear his eyes boring into your face before you press record.

And, for the most part, it does go smoothly. Harry introduces himself with an ease that only comes with years of practice, so much time spent being interviewed that it must feel like as much of a second nature to him as interviewing is to you. He’s charming and charismatic - flirtatious, even - making jokes and adding lines that you make a mental note to be sure to include in your final piece - whatever direction you go - and you can’t say you’re bothered by the way he leans closer to the phone, and thus closer to you, in order for his voice to be heard more on the recording when occasional noise bustles in from outside.

You don’t need to look at the questions you’d spent weeks laboring over - every question you inquire derives directly from his answers like he’s practically feeding them to you, and then you’re interviewing him so naturally, you could nearly fool yourself into thinking it’s an organic conversation between friends.

What’s his process to prepare for shows? Well, listening to Fleetwood Mac and eating finger foods, of course - he loves mozzarella sticks. Does Fleetwood Mac make you less nervous for shows? No, he doesn’t get too anxious before shows, now that he’s out of the band. He just loves Fleetwood Mac - he could listen to them at any time of the day. What do you think makes your solo career less anxiety-inducing than being in the band? Different fans let him be himself more. There’s less pressure to be someone he isn’t - do you think he could’ve worn a floral printed suit at a One Direction concert?

And, in the end, twenty minutes hardly feels like it, and by the time Harry tilts his head over the screen of your phone to check the time, you could nearly convince yourself that you’d merely spent a minute with the heartthrob, and it pains you to stop the recording.

“How’d I do?” he questions, cheeky smile indenting the dimple in his cheek, and you feel like you need to dip your face in ice once he goes on stage - your face hasn’t felt anything less than piping hot since the first moment he rested eyes on you, and his kind-bordering-on-flirtatious nature only makes your skin heat more under his gaze.

It isn’t as though you’d have it any other way, though.

“Perfect,” and you send him a smile. “I’ll watch the show - probably eat a bit, too, if I’m being honest - and maybe ask you a few questions. How many shows are you doing in LA?”

Harry reaches past you, grabbing the doorknob and opening the door for you once more, and you slip out with a small smile as he follows, face twisted in what’s clearly a show of being in deep thought. “Four. An’ a few more on the West Coast ‘fore we move out - reckon you’ll need t’come t’a few more?”

“Depends.” He looks at you curiously as the two of you make your way back to the room you’d been in before, and when you enter, it’s clearly in a more prominent state of preparation for the show - there’s more bustle and movement between every band member and Jeff, who looks entirely relieved to see you two come in as She’s a Rainbow thumps softly, volume clearly turned down on whatever produces the music. “If I feel like I’ve got enough material from this show, then that’ll be it - I usually just do reviews of specific gigs, and this is a lot broader - so I really don’t know.”

Harry nods, and you feel a flutter in your heart at how intently he seems to be listening to you, like he really cares, and you’re sure it’s a facade - he probably has a million other things on his mind as Jeff descends upon the both of you, whisking him away as he calls goodbye! to you - but still. When was the last time you’d felt listened to? By Mike, or by the security guard outside, or even from your own parents when you try to convince them over and over that you have a plan, that your degree wasn’t a waste of time when you could’ve been a doctor -

Well, Harry’s a gentleman, you decide, sliding your phone into the back pocket of your flares as you reach in your bag for your notepad. You can tell they’re preparing to go on soon and so you descend against the wall, grabbing your pen from deep inside the confines of your bag to scribble the essential notes of what you’ll need - it’ll make it easier when it’s time to write, rather than listening to the entire 20 minute interview again to try and find the important sections to include.

His responses to your question still burn fresh in your mind, and you began scribbling your bullet points on the small notepad in your hands. It’s decently easy to block out the chatter of the room you’re in along with its music, volume turned down further until it’s hardly audible, and it really is a skill you’ve mastered, though you suppose you’ve had to - trying to take notes for articles about gigs occurring in buildings so small that their noise reverberates off of every surface has made you a master in tuning out noise surrounding you.

You are aware, and acutely, at that, when the band starts exiting through the door beside you. They don’t look nervous, returning your encouraging smiles with ones of their own, and you watch them pour out the door with confidence practically radiating off of them. Well, that’s something to mention, isn’t it? Most of the bands you’d interviewed were practically vomiting with nerves -

Harry takes up the rear, fingers running through his slicked back hair, and you can’t tell if it’s a nervous habit or if he’s simply trying to let his curls fall in front of his eyes more. Jeff walks in front of him, giving you a smile as he leaves, and the singer stops beside you.

Your breath just about catches in your throat as you look up at him, and he’s staring down at you with a decidedly ambiguous look in his eyes, and you smile at him. “Good luck out there.”

“You’re gonna come and watch?”

You nod. “Eventually - I’m gonna eat something first, finish my notes. Maybe give myself a tour of the backstage in case I decide to include it.”

“Sounds good t’me,” Harry says, but he doesn’t make a motion to leave, and then his eyes roll down your body and is he fucking checking you out? Because - no - that’s crazy. That would cement into your brain the knowledge that this is a dream, and not reality, because there’s no fucking way Harry Styles is checking you out, eyes roaming from your eyes to your stomach to your - “I like your pants. Where’d you get ‘em?”

Ah. Of course. Fashion icon, he is, inquiring about the pants you’d chosen specifically because they looked like something he may like. “These?” You glance down as though you’d forgotten what pants you’d donned, as though you hadn’t spent hours in front of your closet envisioning what outfit you could wear to impress him. “I think they’re from Zara. Got them a couple years back.”

“They’re pretty.”

“Why, thank you -”

“Harry!”

Jeff’s voice calling from outside the room snaps you both out of your conversation, a slightly embarrassed grin spreading across Harry’s face that you’re sure is mirroring your own. His cheeks are tinged pink and he clears his throat.

“Sorry - gotta go - make sure y’try the mozzarella sticks, ‘kay? They’re good,” Harry tells you, and you grin, drumming the pen clutched between your fingers against the notepad in your hands.

“Will do,” you reply, and then you lift your hand and point to the door, raising your eyebrows with a smile. “Go break a leg - and then be ready to talk about it when you’re done!”

He doesn’t say anything else - just gives you a thumbs up and slips out the door, and you can hear his frenzied apologies to Jeff as their voices fade away, surely preparing to get on stage and sing his heart out and blow the fucking stadium away, but you can hardly focus on it. Because - God, you really don’t want to sound like a narcissist - but he was joking around with you, complimented your pants, and he did technically check you out, even if it was just to see your pants.

Was he flirting with you?

Surely not. No, that would be absurd. He’s probably just bored - maybe entertaining random people backstage is his way of dealing with his nerves.

That makes a bit more sense.

When you glance back down at your notepad, the page half filled with scribbled bullet points of things you’d sworn to remember, and when you click your pen open to continue your list, you find that you can’t quite think of anything else to write. All you can think about is the mozzarella sticks waiting for you, and then standing in the wings to watch him sing his heart out to a crowd of adoring fans that you, at one point, would have killed to be apart of -

You shove your pen and pad back into your bag with a determined spin of your heels. Food first - contemplation second.

~~~

The show is - needless to say - amazing.

You’d feasted on slightly-cold mozzarella sticks that were, even in their lowered temperatures, immensely good, and clearly garnered all the affection Harry had for them. The food table was nearly completely empty, crew members repeatedly coming up to fill plates with vegetables and snacks, and so you simply gathered the last three sticks of celery once you were done with your sticks before taking a leisurely stroll along the backstage area. Celery firm between your teeth, you pulled out your notepad and your pen once more and jotted notes of what you could possibly include in the article to jog your memory later -

It takes a while, admittedly. You don’t want to leave anything out, and eventually you have two pages filled with notes in your handwriting that would surely be illegible to anyone else who happened upon them - and, sure, your pages are small, but still. Two pages is a lot, and you’re sure most of it won’t even make it into the article but you don’t want to risk forgetting any important information.

A trip to the bathroom - perusing the food table again to pick up the last few carrot sticks - and the show is nearly halfway over, so you decide it may be time to slip into the wings and watch. Take notes, possibly, but mainly just listen and absorb the music and the atmosphere and exactly how the fans react to his every move. That’s what the people want to know, isn’t it? It’s what you would want to know - so you slip past the lingering groups of people into the wings of the stage, where you get a clear view of Harry and his band, singing his heart out to a tune you know to be Kiwi.

It’s ear splitting, truly, in a way that none of the other gigs you’d witnessed had been. But it sounds good - better than good - and he’s as charismatic on stage as he is off, waggling his eyebrows during the more suggestive lines and undoing the button of his suit jacket, and the latter garners a deafening scream from the adoring fans in the crowd.

No, you won’t need to take notes, at least not yet. You’ll remember this forever, won’t you? Watching him work the crowd like he was born to do it, like it’s a second nature and you’re sure it is, at this point. It’s all you can do to stand there, watching him, and you’re sure you look no different from the other fans in the crowd, your eyes wide and lips parted in absolute awe of him -

His head turns to the side, briefly, as if he can sense your eyes on him above anyone else’s. In reality you’re sure he’d simply turned his head to flick a sweaty curl out of his face but it’s never a bad thing to dream right? And your gaze locks for just a moment, his eyebrows raising when he sees your face, and heat burns at your cheeks before his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his right eye shuts in a quick wink before he’s turning back to the crowd as if his attention had never left them.

Shit. You nearly drop your damn carrot. God, he’s a fucking tease, and you’re not even sure he knows it - that this experience will never leave your brain for as long as you walk this Earth, watching him wink as he stared into the depths of your fucking soul, clad in a gorgeous suit with his gorgeous hair and -

Harry truly is a sight to behold, and you’re more than content to watch him forever.

Forever ends up being another half hour or so before you’re made entirely too aware of the fact that you have to pee - not insanely bad, but enough to make you shift uncomfortably from side to side before sighing, turning and making your way further backstage in your search for the bathroom. In your determined tour of the backstage you’d forgotten to search for the restroom, and you wander about for nearly five whole minutes before getting to it -

You do your business. There’s not much more explanation needed.

It’s when your washing your hands, though, water freezing cold against your palms, that you become slightly aware of a myriad of noises occurring outside the restroom. At first you choose not to focus on it, shoving your hands beneath the air dryer to ease your soaking, cold hands, and the noise of violent air assaulting your palms drowns out the scuffling sounds from outside.

When the dryer turns off, and you reach down to wipe your damp hands on your pants, the noises haven’t stopped. And, sure, no one could expect it to be completely silent backstage, but whatever you’re hearing isn’t the normal laughter and chatter and muffled music that you’re used to hearing -

It sounds like someone is fighting, and your hand freezes in its place on the cool metal doorknob. You lean forward, scrunching your nose as you plainly try harder to hear what’s happening -

But, Hell. You have a job to do - you need to get back to the wings to watch the remaining few minutes of the set before Harry leaves and, subsequently, returns for the encore, and you’d intended to write with detail about his closing repetition of Kiwi. So you grab the doorknob, swing the door open and step out, and freeze nearly immediately once you’ve exited.

There is a fight - not as violent as you’d expected - as the security guard from inside scuffles with Steve, who looks positively wasted in a way you’ve come to know all too well, doing gigs in LA. His face shines with a sheen layer of sweat, skin glowing in the artificial light, and his fists move slowly to pummel into the other security guard’s back. It’s, truthfully, a bit pathetic to watch - he isn’t putting up much of a fight against the guard trying to hold him, and your mouth parts with poorly-concealed confusion at the display in front of you.

You’re not sure what to say - or do - or think - standing in the doorway of the bathroom as you watch the poor excuse of a fight, Steve nearly toppling to the ground as the other guard tries to contain him.

“Come on, Steve - don’t be like this -”

Then the other security guard looks up and sees you, and the expression on his face nearly makes you burst into laughter, but you contain it with a bit more difficulty than you’d like to admit. He looks annoyed, like he’s absolutely done with his coworker, and also slightly embarrassed. Clearly, he’d dragged Steve into the hallway containing the bathrooms with the hopes of nobody seeing either of them, and you’ve interrupted his bid for privacy desperately. “Sorry, ma’am,” the guard says, grabbing one of Steve’s flailing fists in his hands. “Don’t mind us - he’s drunk - just trying to contain him.”

You’re doing a damn good job, you want to say, but you bite back the retort with a small nod and a whisper of a smile on your face, walking with your back to the wall past their display in the hopes of Steve not seeing you. He hadn’t been particularly nice to you when you’d first seen him and you can tell he’s in a much more heightened state, now - he’d been drunk when you’d seen him before and you can tell it’s only gotten worse.

Maybe you should’ve told Jeff the guard was drunk?

Well, it’s counterproductive to dwell on the past.

You’re not so lucky, though - you’ve barely made it down five steps down the hallway before Steve lifts his head, pupils blown and skin even stickier looking than before, and he gives you the same disgusted look as though you’re something his dog had left on the grass. “Hey - hey - Jim - do you know who that is?”

And the other security guard - Jim - just rolls his eyes. “No, Steve, I don’t - stop making a fool out of yourself.”

“She works at - at - Eat to the Beat - Parallel Lines - what is it?”

Do you answer him? You don’t quite know. You just swallow thickly, forcing yourself not to don the smile that’s urging its way onto your lips as you hear roaring screams from the crowd that alerts you to the fact that, if Harry isn’t done with his set yet, he’s close, and you need to watch the end. “Autoamerican. Those are all good albums, though.”

“She’s snarky - get off of me, Jim -”

In Steve’s final bid for freedom his legs kick out, and his sneakered foot knocks into your ankle, and it’s certainly not hard by any stretch of the definition but it’s enough to catch you off balance, his toe hooking into the loose fabric around your ankles as he brings his foot back to kick again. One kick did it, though - you tumble to the ground, legs flying out from under you until you land on your ass on the hard floor, your bag slipping off your shoulder, and its contents scatter across the ground.

Fuck. That hurt, more than you’d care to admit, as you brace your elbows behind you to stop your head from knocking into the ground. Your ass hurts and you can see Steve’s leg bracing backwards for another kick, and you push yourself backwards so his foot merely pushes against the air.

You can already see Jim opening his mouth to desperately say sorry when a set of footsteps interrupts his apology - you don’t have to look to your side to see who it is, the smell of expensive cologne wafting before him like an introduction. You practically feel him before you see him.

Your name falls off Harry’s lips entirely too easily, like he’d been looking for you in the overtly small window of space he has before he has to go back on stage - his hair is messy and his skin is sweaty and he bends down next to you with such sentimentality in his eyes - you almost feel like a child again.

“Are y’okay?” Harry questions, and his hand rests on the small of your back and warmth seems to seep through your body from its spawning point, palm moving in circles against your sweater so gently you can tell he’s scared to go much harder. “Wha’ -?”

For his eyes had just landed on the sight in front of you - Jim managed to pull Steve up, the latter clearly coming to his senses at least a little bit, and his eyes narrow at the sight of you on the floor and subsequently widen as he sees Harry next to you.

“Wha’ happened?” And you can hear anger quivering under his voice like boiling water, ready to overflow, and you instinctively reach up to press your hand against his forearm - you do it to your niece all the time when you can tell she’s on the verge of a tantrum and it always works on her - but she is five, and Harry’s twenty years her senior, so, needless to say, the motion doesn’t do much to soothe him. “Fightin’ back here, kickin’ her - you’re s’posed t’be security guards!”

“It’s okay, Harry -”

“S’not okay -”

And then there’s another set of footsteps jogging over to you, and you look up to see Jeff -

“Har, you need to get back out -” but you can see the confusion set into his features as he stands over the scene, eyes flickering to you and Harry on the floor to Jim and Steve, the former having settled the latter into a fairly calm position. The scent of alcohol is strong and you can practically watch as Jeff smells it, his nose crinkling. “Is he drunk?”

“He is drunk, an’ got into a fight wit’ -”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupt, squeezing Harry’s arm again as you push yourself to stand, attempting not to wince at the pain in your ass as your muscles tense. He’s looking at you like you’ve just been hit by a car instead of having a mild scuffle with a security guard, eyes wide and concerned, and you shake your head at him. “Didn’t get into a fight, Harry - he accidentally kicked me. It’s really fine - you need to go back out, anyway.”

“She’s right,” Jeff insists, reaching down to tug Harry up as his eyes bore into the sight in front of you, Steve slowly calming himself down until he’s simply red in the face and reeking of booze. “Come on, Har - you need to get on.”

But Harry’s already bending down again, grabbing your pen and your notebook and your phone (you can see a crack in the screen that most certainly hadn’t been there just a mere ten minutes ago) and you could nearly laugh at the display he’s putting on, shoving your items back into your back, if Jeff’s demeanor wasn’t bordering on murderous as he drags Harry up again. You reach down and grab your bag, now fully stocked again with all of the items that had clattered out, and you give the tussling security guards one final fleeting look before following Jeff and Harry as they make their way down the hall.

“Y’sure you’re okay?” Harry questions, slowing his pace so you can jog beside him, much to Jeff’s lingering annoyance as he brings his fingers up to rub at the space between his eyes. “Y’should know - tha’ doesn’t usually happen -”

“I get it,” you tell him.

“No, really.” You’ve reached the wings of the stage, and Jeff leaves the pair of you alone to descend on to where the band stands, clearly waiting for the cue to go on. Harry runs a hand through his hair, and he looks oddly exasperated and you wish you could get it through his head that it really isn’t a big deal - “Someone will take care of the guards, okay?”

“Don’t fire them,” you insist, even though you’re sure he has no say in it. “Not Jim, at least.”

“Jim -?”

“The sober one.”

“Oh.” He pauses, dropping his hands to his sides. “I can’t make any promises.”

“Just try.”

“Will do.”

There’s another brief second of silence before you nod towards the stage where he’s needed - the few lowly minutes between the end of the show and the encore has come to an end, and you’re sure people are beginning to wonder if he’s not coming back. “Go on, Har. There’s people waiting for you.”

“M’going!” And he isn’t going, just staring at you with his brows furrowed, and you raise your own with a confused stare. “Are y’gonna come t’any more shows?”

You pause, nibbling on your bottom lip as you contemplate your answer. “Well - maybe. If I need more information.” “You should,” he tells you, and you tilt your head to the side. “Look, I don’t want your only impression of m’shows t’be that they’re violent an’ crazy.”

“I don’t think -”

“Jus’ one more? In two days. I’ll send you th’address. I really want you t’come -”

Before you can process the request Jeff has stepped forward, hooking his arm in Harry’s and practically dragging him towards the stage, and you watch him prance back in front of the audience like it’s his God given purpose and perhaps it is. You’ve never quite met anyone like him, you don’t think, and you’d certainly had a perception of what you’d imagined him to be like based on the insane amount of time you’d spent obsessing over his band when you were younger -

Your mouth feels suddenly dry as you watch him begin, and the music seems to reverberate beneath your skin, and suddenly - without having to think about it much at all, really - you know it won’t take much convincing on his part to get you back for a second night.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles series #harry styles drabble #harry styles one shot #im sure im going to regret starting this as a series and not trying to make it one long piece #but honestly??#im working on another fic right now so i just want the beginnings of this to be out there #i hope u enjoy

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y0itsbri · 3 years

Text

Falling for You

ballet au one-shot for @gallavichthings 's a.u.gust

summary: dance instructor mickey! ian keeps messing up the lifts with the dancers, and mickey cannot have his girls injured because of this himbo, even if he is hot. he makes ian stay after class to practice on him -- and he swears there's no ulterior motives. but they're so close and his hands are all over him and he can feel his breath and it is so unprofessional but fuck it.

words: 2k

Mickey had a new guy in his class that wasn't doing... well... by any standards. Alright, the dude sucked. Mickey had been a ballet instructor for several years and not once has he met a dancer as uncoordinated and unbalanced as Ian fucking Gallagher.

Somehow, Ian had managed to not only rip the ballet barre off of the goddamn wall in his attempt at a grand plie, fallen flat on his face after pas de chat gone wrong, but he also managed to launch his fellow ballerinas onto the floor instead of the air.

He was a disaster.

Mickey had better shit to do with his time at the studio than patch up his dancers, and studio, after Gallagher's classes. Svetlana's father would have his ass if she got injured on his watch. And Ian being the only guy in their class, there was no way for him not to share the front-and-center spotlight with Svetlana.

Yeah, Mickey wasn't letting Ian any-fucking-where near Svet if he could help it. At least in his current state. Dude was a piece of work.

Mickey figured he would be a lot more upset about all this if Ian's apologetic puppy dog eyes weren't so goddamn convincing.

Fucking Gallagher.

"Ayo, Mands! Come help me with this!" Mickey called, echoing in the studio, now nearly empty besides the Milkovich siblings and a six-foot-tall ginger man looking both utterly clueless and utterly terrified. Mickey was utterly hopeless.

Mandy popped in the doorframe, sliding her shoes on but leaving them untied.

"Can't! I got actual shit to do! I don't live and breathe the studio like your sorry ass. No offense, Ian, my brother is great, please stay. Full offense, Mickey, get a fucking life!"

Mickey was left speechless and slightly embarrassed by Mandy's outburst and only managed to flip her off before she was out the door.

"Charming sister you got there," Ian let a quiet laugh slip before schooling his expression at Mickey's lack of amusement.

Mickey sighed and rubbed his hands down the length of his face for a moment. Ian and Mickey held eye contact a bit longer before Mickey abruptly straightened up and clapped his hands together. The noise startled Ian from his own amused trance.

"Alright, Clifford, how do you feel about private lessons for a little bit until you're not tripping over your own feet?"

Ian stepped forward to argue, but, proving Mickey's point, stumbled over the shoes on the floor in front of him. He didn't miss the way that Mickey's mouth quirked up on the side.

"Can't afford extra classes," Ian shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

"It's on me," Mickey swiped his top lip. He didn't miss the way that Ian's gaze lingered on his mouth,"Kinda need you..." really want you, "to, uh, look good..." as if he doesn't already, fucking red-headed alien-looking motherfucker, "on the floor..." of my bedroom, goddamn it, Mick, get it together! "the, uh, dance floor."

Ian paused, considering the way that Mickey was stumbling over his words in a way that one might call endearing, another might call the-worst-fucking-experience-of-his-life.

"I'll do it."

Do me. Seriously, go drink some water, oh my god.

Mickey literally took a sip from his water bottle, hoping that it would at least calm his nerves. He was a professional!

He crossed his arms over his chest. "You free after class?" A pause, "To work on some skills, I mean."

"It's a date," Ian smirked, leaning down to pick up his shoes from the ground in front of him. By the time he was upright again, Mickey had already started walking away, but the blush on his cheeks and the back of his neck could be spotted from a mile away. He was utterly fucked.

Mickey yawned and got up from his stretching position on the floor. He walked over to the stereo, systematically knocking his dancer's feet on his way over until they were all turned out and pointed.

"No Orange Boy today?" Svetlana asked, meeting Mickey's eyes with a challenging stare.

Mickey ignored the chorus of "He's so hot!" "Have you seen his arms?" and "Ian's the nicest!" from the rest of the girls.

Svetlana raised her eyebrow in question and Mickey's defenses flew out the window. This goddamn power dynamic was going to be the death of him.

"I put him on private lessons until he's no longer a disruption to the class," he shrugged.

"Aww," one brunette pouted.

"Disruption to class or disruption to tiny bulge in your pants?" Svetlana smirked, earning some scandalized gasps from the other dancers.

Mickey flipped her off, "The fucker made me take out a greater insurance policy with all his accidents, don't be fucking absurd."

A blonde nodded understandingly from the back of the class, "My ankle is still a little funky from the last lift we tried."

Mickey held his arms out in a display of I-told-you-so and Svetlana rolled her eyes.

"Great!" Mickey clapped his hands together, earning the full attention of his class as they hurried to their feet, "Now that all the hot drama is outta the air, let's do a quick warm up combo across the floor. Chasse step pas de bourree double pirouette step arabesque, in 5, 6, 7, 8..."

Ian had been waiting outside the studio for the last ten minutes of class, more-so watching his instructor shift around than paying attention to what the dancers were actually doing. That's probably what got him into his current predicament, and he couldn't decide whether that was a curse or a blessing. Mickey's arms flexed as he pointed across the room to call out someone's weak spot.

Yup, it was a blessing.

Oh shit, Mickey was looking his way. Was this a double sided mirror? No, of course not. Why would there be a double sided mirror? Oh, Mickey was definitely staring at him. Fuck. Wait, did he just wink? No way, he must've just blinked. With one eye. Yeah, totally normal. Nothing to overthink, Ian.

Get it together!

Mickey dismissed his class five minutes early and it had nothing to do with the Jolly Ginger Giant standing outside his studio.

While most of his dancers wordlessly accepted the easy out, Svetlana stayed back to taunt. "Have fun with private lessons," she sneered, jerking off an invisible cock.

"Choke on it," Mickey retorted tossing her warm-up jacket at her face, which she swiftly caught.

Svetlana turned and made a show of looking Ian up and down, his cheeks turning pink under her intense gaze. She faced Mickey head on, "You will be vegetable stew by the time this man is done with you."

The fuck does that mean?

Sometimes Mickey thought that Svetlana spoke in riddles just to mess with him. He blamed it on the Russian accent, never mind he was part Ukrainian himself. The languages were similar, but not identical, fuck you very much.

But, damn, forget that, Gallagher looked good. He was wearing his usual white tank top and grey sweatpants, but Mickey never got the opportunity to openly ogle in class. Not that that was what he was doing now.

Ian returned the long look appreciatively before stepping closer and Mickey snapped back into professionalism, well as far as professionalism goes, Milkovich-style.

He turned his back on the bane of his pathetic existence and snapped a quick but polite, "Get your shoes on and we can get started."

"Oh, right."

That seemed to be enough to get the gears in Ian's head going again as he dropped his bag to the floor, echoing in the truly empty studio, and dropping down onto the floor himself to secure his ballet shoes, which may as well be clown shoes for as big as his feet were. Mickey fit into the same brand as the girls, but he had to order special for Gallagher.

"Thanks for doing this, Mickey."

Mickey. The way that this man said his name was making him feel all sorts of flustered that he would most definitely deny.

"Mandy said you don't usually make exceptions."

"Gotta catch you up to speed or you're gonna be dancing with the 5 year-olds, man."

Ian tilted his head considering.

Mickey frowned, "Don't do it."

Ian smirked and Mickey had to look away as a grin and blush creeped up on his own face.

"Alright, so we'll start you off with the basics."

Mickey went through their normal class routine, but broke it down slowly, pausing to explain certain positions in details he couldn't afford to spend time with in class, specifically how not to fall. It should have been fairly obvious in his opinion, but Ian still managed somehow. The first few times, he was on the floor before Mickey even knew he was going down.

But the third, Mickey made a mistake. Mickey instinctively reached out to catch him.

As soon as he realized where his hands were, he pulled them off like he'd been burned, which he may have well been. He pulled his gaze to his feet, studying the floor while he composed himself.

"Mickey," Ian waited until he looked up, and then he spoke so quietly, "You can touch me."

And what made things worse was that Ian's dazzling eyes left little to the imagination. They both knew where this was going, and the moment was too intense too quick. The longer their eyes held, the hotter Mickey felt his neck grow.

"Ya know," Ian stepped closer. "To fix my positions..."

Mickey swallowed, "Uh, I think we're done for today."

He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. He never meant them to begin with. But if Ian stayed any longer, Mickey was going to climb him like a tree and that really wasn't under his personal code of professionalism, no matter how loose those terms may be to begin with. It was getting late anyways, he reasoned with himself.

"What about the lifts? That's the important part, right?" Ian questioned, eyes pleading like he would die without this one skill being taught to him by his oh-so-unprofessional instructor.

Mickey sighed. Ya know what? Fuck it.

Mickey sauntered over to Ian, pressed his back to Ian's front, and grabbed one of Ian's massive hands and placed it on his own waist.

Ian gave an experimental squeeze and Mickey softened in his grip.

Ridiculous.

"We're not doing the lift are we?" Ian murmured breathily, hot air making the hairs on the back of Mickey's neck tingle.

"What do you think, Firecrotch?" Mickey pushed his weight back into Ian's chest, which would be the second mistake of the day.

Ian toppled over backwards, landing with a painful sounding thud and sending Mickey down on top of him before he rolled off the the side with a groan.

Ian started laughing and Mickey was concerned. Was this idiot actually fucking concussed this time? He wasn't sure how he would explain this to his insurance company.

Mickey straddled Ian's lap, gently slapping his face, "Are you good, man? Alive?"

"Never better." Ian was still smiling like an absolute goof.

Mickey raised an eyebrow in concern.

"Seriously, I just can't play things cool," Ian raised his hips to grind against Mickey's ass, "Obviously."

"You're an idiot," Mickey rolled his eyes, and all Ian could do was grin and reach up towards Mickey's neck, pulling his down until their lips almost touched, sharing breaths and excitement.

"Maybe," another breath, "But I still got you to fall for me."

It was Mickey's turn to laugh, more of a raspy exhale than anything. His "fuck you" was almost lost between them as they fell together at last.

(side note: this was the lift that they were going to do, so i feel like the hand on the waist makes sense -- gotta have a visual lmao)

#i might have an idea for a sequel/series if anyone is interested: mandy pov of this and another one shot in their relationship era???#who knows #shameless #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #mandy milkovich #ian x mickey #shameless fanfic #shameless fanfiction #gallavich fanfiction #gallavich fanfic #svetlana yevgenivna #my posts

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years

Text

Moral Insanity - Andy Barber smut

The one where you’re Jacob’s friend and Andy fucks you on a balcony.

Warnings: this is divorced! Andy and college! Jacob, so while there’s a definite age gap there, reader is legal. So other warnings go: semi-public sex, a lot of dirty talking, no daddy kink on this one, which came as a surprise even to me, curse words and really rough sex. p in v, porn with little plot, masturbation (f). A/N: Kinktober Day 27 prompts were sex on a balcony or window + “Don’t cum yet”. Hope you guys like this one, I feel like it was a good one, but if I had more time, I could probably make it better. I think that’s kind of the sentiment behind the whole kinktober, actually.

Andy’s P.O.V.

Even the strongest of wills caved when faced with a sweet enough temptation. All it took was one look and I knew she was mine.

Perhaps I should have known better than to let Jacob invite his friends to our beach house, but I was recently divorced and in desperate need to feel cool again, even if I knew that trying to be seen like that by my own kid would only lead me to the opposite direction. And maybe I also forgot just how old he was, ignored that he was now in college and saw the image of his teenage years when I looked at him, because the truth was, when I saw her walking in, I was frozen in my spot.

I didn’t even consider that my son was old enough to have sleepovers with girls now. And when I had to confront my own desire for the much younger girl who he introduced as a friend, in my own eyes, he grew up too.

But I still had to face the reality that she was undeniably young enough to be my daughter.

“Good morning, Mr. B.” My head automatically whipped around to look at the ray of sunshine personified in the body of Jacob’s college best friend. I’d heard about her before, obviously, and even teased him about being embarrassed to admit that he was dating her, but now that I knew the girl I could only acknowledge the fact that she was way out of his league.

Maybe I shouldn’t retroactively feel relieved about their relationship being so innocent, but I was way past denying the attraction I felt for her. My goal now was to keep it hidden, despite just how enticing she was.

“Good morning, Y/N. You do know you’re on spring break, right? There’s no need to keep waking up so early.” I chanced a glance up at her, to find her looking out at the balcony, towards the sea.

“I know,” she nodded, her eyes still focused on a distant point before they suddenly met mine. “I just like to keep you company.” I didn’t know what to say, so I just resumed my previous activity of frying bacon, letting the silence of the morning fill the space between us. Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Maybe because in the last few days I’d had the chance of striking up many conversations with her - which only added to my attraction, since she was an incredibly intelligent woman - so I felt like I knew her enough, by now. Enough for what, I didn’t know.

“Well, the eggs are ready. Will you accompany me to breakfast?” We made idle chit chat before two of her friends made their way downstairs, my signal to leave them alone. As much as I liked to view myself as young at heart, I remembered just how weird it was when adults tried to force their presence into a group, and I wasn’t about to do that.

Just before I left, her eyes met mine in a longing stare, and it felt like she wanted to say something, but refrained from doing so. But perhaps it was just my hopeful imagination, wanting her to like my company as much as I enjoyed hers.

The next time I saw her, it was lunch already. Jacob and his friends had spent the day between the beach and the pool, while I remained in the bedroom returning some calls from the office. When I finally joined them downstairs, I was once again shocked by the view of her glistening wet body in what could only be described as a barely there bikini.

She caught me staring, that much I knew and I couldn’t really admonish myself for my lack of restraint, not when I hadn’t seen that much of her body yet and it was driving me crazy. Besides, I definitely wasn’t the only one staring, perhaps just the only who really shouldn’t be doing it.

“Why are you pouting?” Was the first thing I asked her when she approached the kitchen island where I fixed myself a sandwich, making sure to keep my eyes on the bread slices in my hands, instead of on her chest.

“You left me alone with dumb and dumber! In the middle of a conversation about the Supreme Court! You really know how to make a girl feel interesting, Mr. B.” My heartbeat sped up in my chest, my mind racing with the possibility that she was flirting with me. Was she? How could I know?

From my experience being single, I knew the only way was to slowly reciprocate it and hope for the best. Hopefully I’d be able to get out of it if she ever called me out on it. “You are interesting, Y/N. I’m the one who’s a boring old man. Say, what happened to the bathing suits you were wearing until today?”

My question made her look down to her own body, like she didn’t remember what she was wearing until I asked. When she did return her eyes to mine, she was biting her lip, though it was hard to assess if it was due to embarrassment or excitement for my acknowledgement.

“I lost a bet to the other girls. They gave me one of their bikinis to wear for the day, knowing I don’t usually wear them because they make me uncomfortable.” She looked downright adorable, the pout back on her lips at the memory, and I had to shake my head to swipe away the thought of leaning over and kissing it away.

“Well, I think you look great.” That was all I considered safe to say, but I did throw a wink in her direction before picking up my plate and moving to my bedroom, where I still had some work to go through while I ate. I didn’t look back to witness her reaction, but hoped she’d be at least a little intrigued by my sudden expression of interest.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“You sure you don’t wanna go with us?” I nodded patiently, confirming for the upteenth time that I did in fact desired to stay back at Jacob’s huge beach house instead of following my friends to a noisy, sweaty club. I’d never really liked those environments, so it wasn’t that weird that I ditched them for whatever crime show was on tv for tonight, but in the back of my mind, I knew it was more than that.

I wanted to see Andy again. I wanted to have the opportunity to talk to him without the fear of being interrupted or judged. So really, it wasn’t any surprise to me that after everyone left for the night, I could barely sit still in front of the television, quickly deciding to turn it off and go look for the man that had been plaguing my thoughts for the last few days.

I paced in front of the door to his room for a while before finally gathering the courage to knock, expecting him to open it and follow me downstairs so we could talk. So I was beyond surprised when he simply ordered me to get in without even asking who was there, but I hesitated only for a few seconds before complying.

It was clear by Andy’s expression that he wasn’t expecting to see me, and all at once I realized he must have thought it was Jacob that wanted to speak with him, after all, no one else had probably ventured to this part of the house besides his son and himself. So I was beyond sheepish as I remained by the door when he lifted an eyebrow to ask me what I was doing there. “I thought you guys had gone out to a club or something.”

“I-I decided to stay back here and I was wondering if you wanted to chat.” Now both of his eyebrows were lifted, like he couldn’t believe what he had heard. In the seconds of silence that followed, my mind finally processed the fact that what Andy was wearing weren’t swimsuits, but boxers, and there wasn’t anything else covering his body from my wandering gaze. His hair was wet, too, like he’d just gotten out of a shower, but none of that distracted me from the fact that in those few seconds of silence, his expression changed from incredulous to something entirely different, something I couldn’t really pinpoint, but made my body feel hotter than the sun.

“You wanted to chat?” The question sounded more like an accusation and I found myself giving a step back when I realized that Andy had crossed the room to stand right in front of me, his eyes taking in every inch of skin the bikini exposed. “You wanted to chat,” he repeated, and I gulped before opening my mouth to explain myself, even though I wasn’t entirely sure of what I should be explaining, when his hands found their way to the door behind me and he closed it before settling them in the dark wood, caging me between my escape and himself. “You come into my room when your friends are out and we’re the only two people in the house, dressed like that after spending the last few days driving me absolutely insane, and you tell me you want to chat?”

Andy’s P.O.V.

God fucking damn. This girl had to be completely unaware of her effect over me or absolutely intent on having me going crazy over how badly I wanted her, because it was impossible for her to have waltzed into my room without knowing that this was how I would react.

Still, I had to admit it came half as a surprise even to myself, so maybe I shouldn’t judge her too harshly. Maybe if I hadn’t just tugged one out to the thoughts of her and spilled over myself so badly I had to take a shower, I would be able to ignore the temptation. But as it were, she’d just incited the beast within me, and all I needed was the confirmation that she wanted this just as badly as I did so I could take her exactly like I’d been dreaming about for the last few days.

She heaved as she looked up at me with unmistakable lust-filled eyes, and I felt an insurmountable amount of pride spread through my chest at the knowledge that this desirable young woman was affected by me.

“Well, now that you’re offering me an option, I’ve been wanting your cock in my mouth.” The surprise that hit me over hearing those words fall out of her innocent lips was soon overtook by my desperate need to have her, and with a growl, I pulled her by the back of her head to meet my lips in a furious kiss.

Completely immersed in the taste of cinnamon on her lips, I bit on the lower one to beg her for entrance so I could graze my tongue on hers, taking up the opportunity to finally feel her body against mine. I pressed her up against the door, running my hands over her body before I reached the back of her thighs, pulling her to wrap her legs around my body.

In a few quick strides, we were through the open doors that led to the balcony from where I had a perfect view of the sea, and when I let her go to stand on her own legs, she looked around, clearly confused about my choice of place.

“Did you think you could tease me like that and not get punished? Oh no, you tempted me publicly, I’ll fuck you right here.” It was easy to see that the shiver that ran through her body wasn’t completely due to the wind that was caressing our bodies, she was aroused by the idea. Still, I knew she had a fight in her, so the second she opened her mouth to argue, I lunged at her, capturing her lips with mine again.

The beauty of a bikini. One simple movement and the top piece was on the floor and my hands were full with her breasts, my fingers occupied with circling her hardened nipples as I kept kissing her with all that I had.

“Now, princess…” Leaving her lips to kiss down her jaw, my fingers found their way inside her little bottom piece before they teased her, testing her wetness to find her dripping for me. “I know you said you wanted my cock in your mouth, but I think we can leave that for later, huh? Right now, I really need to have you. So you’re gonna cum real quick, with my fingers deep inside this tight pussy, before I bend you over the rail and rail you.”

I fucked her quickly and harshly, making sure to hit her sweet spot every time when I managed to find her, while I distracted myself from my throbbing cock by nibbling on her earlobe and imprinting her scent in my memory. When she did cum, it was with a breathless gasp as she held tightly onto my biceps, and I groaned just from the feeling of her tightness squeezing my digits.

“I gotta have you now.” That was all the warning I gave before I did just what I promised, bending her over before pushing her bikini bottoms and sliding home. Our moans echoed each other, only fueling my arousal to a point where I couldn’t really wait for her to adjust to my size. So I just started pounding into her, keeping a grip on her hip and another on her hair as I watched her ass slap back against me, her breasts bouncing with the force of my thrusts.

“So fucking tight.” I bit my lip so hard I tasted metal in an effort not to cum too quickly, but it only made me hornier. “C’mon, sweetheart. Tell me how much you love being ruined by me. Don’t you wish your friends would get back sooner, so they’d see just how great you are at taking my cock?”

She cried out at my words, her legs shaking with the effort to keep herself up, but the sight before me was too fucking pretty to let her go. “Been dreaming about my cock deep inside this pretty pussy, haven’t you? Just like I’ve been jerking off to the thought of these pretty little lips wrapped around it.” Having pulled her against my chest by her hair, I rubbed her lower lip before pushing my thumb inside her mouth, where she eagerly started to suck just like I imagined.

“Won’t have to think about it anymore, will I? Because you’ll let me fuck you any time I want. Every time I get hard thinking about you, you’ll bend over for me to take you and I won’t have to say a single word.” I could feel her pussy clenching periodically because of my words, but I wasn’t quite there yet. I still needed a few more minutes of fucking this tight young pussy and I wanted her to cum with me, so I ordered, “Don’t cum yet,” giving a quick slap over her clit before holding her by her throat so I could kiss her cheek.

“Tell me, baby. Tell me how badly you wanted my cock, how much you want my cum and I’ll let you have it. I’ll let you milk me dry inside this pretty little pussy until it’s dripping out of you.”

I knew she was having a hard time trying to contain her orgasm, but she still managed to beg me while holding the hand that was pawing at her breast. “Please, Andy, Mr. Barber. I need your cum inside of me, sir. ‘Ve been thinking about it for so long. Please, let me cum with you.”

The sir did it for me. With one last command for her to cum, I allowed myself to release deep inside of her, sliding my hand to her lower stomach so I could feel myself and making her clench again at the feeling.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, catching our breath while staring out into the ocean, until my softened cock slipped out of her, and I gave her a quick kiss on the shoulder. “It’s a pretty view,” she murmured, and I chuckled before turning her to look at me.

“Not as pretty as you. And hey, as great as this was, I want you to know that I really want to get to know you better, Y/N. Talking to you every morning has been the highlight of my day and I’m in desperate need of something like that.”

She smiled before standing up on her tiptoes to deposit a quick kiss on my lips. “Sounds good to me, Mr. Barber. Now, have you ever gone skinny dipping?”

#kinktober 2020 #kinktober #andy barber smut #andy barber #smut #my fics #andy barber fic #andy barber fics #andy barber reader #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber oneshot #andy barber ff #andy barber fiction #andy barber writing #andy barber writings

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blush-and-books · 3 years

Text

i am always yours

canonverse juke one-shot, light angst with a happy ending :) as a part of the effort to get juke back on the tumblr fandometrics ship list! title from the end of all things by p!atd. again, fuck brendon urie, but i’ve had this hc about luke for awhile (you’ll see what i mean) and had to get this out! <3 enjoy!

When Julie told Luke about Panic! At The Disco, she didn’t just give him a list of songs to check out. She advised to listen through entire albums.

“You have a lot to catch up on,” she said, grinning over a mug of steaming tea. Her smile could convince him to do anything. “And these guys were a phenomenon. Despite… A lot that has happened with their lead singer, you’ll appreciate the music. Just give it a try when you feel like it.”

Julie never rushed him on anything. It was one of the things he loved most about her -- she only really insisted he know how to use her phone and the internet and maybe know some memes, but the rest was up to him. She loved him -- he hoped -- even if he wanted to stay in 1995.

However, whenever she told Luke to do something, like “look into it if you’re interested” or “check it out if you’re ever bored,” he would jump on it in an instant.

He wondered if she ever noticed. Acts of service was one of those love language things that Flynn was always talking about, right? Does making the effort to show an interest in the other person’s life by listening to every album by a band they like count?

He would ask Reggie or Alex, but Reggie doesn’t have much experience in the love department and Alex and Willie are much better at communicating than he is with Julie.

To be clear: Luke doesn’t have experience either. In fact, Reggie probably has more romantic experience between the two of them.

But none of it was as serious. This weird thing he has with Julie; this undefined, label-lacking supernova of passion and emotion that he has curled up in his chest is so strong sometimes it hurts. When Julie was upset at him and ignored him, it felt like the time his mom took his guitar and locked it away for a week.

But when Julie is around, and she’s smiling at him, he could swear that not even a roaring audience could spark the kind of nirvana he feels.

So, the day after she gives him the name of every Panic! album to date, she goes to school for six hours and he sneaks her laptop down to the garage and starts his deep dive.

(Yes, Julie gave him computer privileges. He knows boundaries. She’s just broadened hers.)

Blissfully and with few interruptions from his other bandmates, he goes through the first albums quickly. He skips most of Pretty Odd -- Julie should have warned him about that one -- and is enjoying himself until he gets to the later projects which are significantly less his sound.

But he keeps going. He reaches their album from 2013, which has this neon-angsty-alt-pop vibe that he honestly has a neutral opinion on. The songs are all good until he realizes that half of them have a painfully romantic overtone that ropes his mind back to Julie every time he tries to stray.

Fuck, one of the songs is literally titled Girl That You Love. How is he not supposed to have a montage of Julie in his head?

And then some shit called Far Too Young To Die comes on, and yes, he agrees, he was far too young to die. He also vows to never listen to it again in the next 24 hours because he is ultimately tempted to loop it until Julie comes back and kiss her breathless the second that she walks through the door.

Moving on, Collar Full doesn’t make things much better. He is sick and tired of waiting and dancing around his feelings for her, and every time they are together he is filled to the brim with lyrics and love from just minutes in her presence.

(“If you’re gonna be the death of me, that’s how I want to go” definitely shatters him. But only briefly. He wants to soak up every ounce of love he can get from her before the world catches up to them and he’s crossing over without his consent.)

Luke thinks that he’s out of the woods when he hits the album-ending ballad, The End of All Things.

And then he sees that he’s still in the thick of it.

The way it hits him is nearly indescribable -- but every line hits like a read-aloud of his diary.

No matter where he is, or where he ends up, his soul will always belong to Julie Molina. And that’s the truth of it. He can cross over or the band could break up and he could wander the planet as a lost ghost for the rest of eternity, but his soul will linger; tied with Julie’s in an unsolvable knot.

He is hers.

He is hers, he is hers, he is hers.

And he’s in love with her.

He can’t ask her to love him back. But he can hope, right? For just a single moment where they can lay together and be Julie and Luke like they should have been.

The tears on his cheeks and under his eyes don’t register until they are streaming down his neck and onto the pillow that he’s laying on.

He doesn’t deserve Julie, he knows that. And he knows how fucking selfish it would be to even try. But sometimes the wanting reaches inside of him and individually snaps each and every one of his ribs, and that feeling keeps him pushing and pulling like the tide. Get close to her, make her smile, make her laugh.

Leave her alone. Stop flirting. Don’t you dare hurt her.

Think about somebody other than yourself.

This song, he ends up looping. Over and over and over until his emotions are exhausted and he doesn’t have any tears left to cry. He’s on his… Probably his ninth listen when the doors crack open, and the piano music is leaking out of the garage as Julie slips in.

“Luke! Hey, uh… Oh! You’re listening to Panic!”

He guiltily allows his heart to skip at the pleasant surprise in her smile. Clearing his throat, he swipes his hands viciously across his cheeks to rid of the tear stains and shoots her one of his classic smiles. “‘Course, Boss. You told me to.”

Her backpack hits the coffee table as she slowly approaches the couch to settle next to him. “Yeah, well… I didn’t actually expect you to. People normally just say ‘yeah, I’ll check it out!’ and then no one talks about it again.”

Something rubs him the wrong way about her not thinking that he would actually follow through with her recommendation. Does she doubt him? How does she not know that she could say jump and he would ask how high?

“Well, I’m not normal people. I care about what you care about.”

He knows he got her when she averts her eyes to Alex’s drums across the room; giving Luke a perfect view of her blush. Maybe he lets himself revel in it for a moment longer than necessary.

“Anyways, how was school? Did you have a good day?”

“It was fine,” she shakes off her previous flusteredness, tucking her leg under her body so that she can turn to fully face him. “But there's nothing to tell. I would much rather hear about what you thought of Panic! And you have to tell me why you were wiping tears off of your face when I came in.”

Luke mirrors her position and gives her a joyful grin, trying to ignore the fact that she clearly noticed him trying to clean his face and wants to talk about it. The two of them have been so good at communication, and if it were about anything else, he would tell her.

But he was nearly sobbing because of how much he loved her and couldn’t have her, so…

“They were pretty cool, I’ll give it to you. I liked the album… Vices and Virtues?” Julie nods her head. “Yeah, that one. I was finishing the Vegas one when you got home.”

“Did you like it? The album you just finished. It sounded like End of All Things when I came in.”

With wide eyes and an exaggerated nod, Luke is praying internally that she will move on and go on a tangent about her favorite albums and songs because he just wants to listen to her talk and quietly love her instead of dodge questions about his emotions.

“Okay, and did you like it? Is that-” She chuckles. “Is that what got you emotional? I mean, I get it, that song hits different sometimes, but-”

Luke stays quiet. If he keeps his mouth shut, and just smiles and stares and nods, it won’t slip.

“... Luke? Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, of course!”

“... So? Are you… Are you okay? Did it remind you of your mom?”

It reminded me of you, he instantly corrects her with the little voice in his head.

But the voice sounds louder than usual, and then Julie’s eyes widen, and Luke couldn’t even smile and nod well enough to cover this up. Since when is he so bad at bottling up his emotions?

Right. Since he couldn’t write songs about his feelings. Because if he did, Julie would see them, so every word of affection toward her was shoved into an overflowing filing cabinet in his brain that was probably waiting to explode at any moment.

“It- Really?”

Mental checklist: She isn’t running away. She isn’t crying. She isn’t running away while she’s crying.

She isn’t slapping him, or screaming at him, or expressing any negative emotions.

Maybe he can push another inch… Just for some relief.

“Y- Yeah.” The single word takes considerable effort to stutter out, but he says it.

Julie formulates her next move. “And… Like, what about it? What reminded you of me?”

Is Luke imagining things, or did she just shift closer to him? Oh, God. The selfishness has already done it’s damage. He’s initiating something that he definitely shouldn’t for both of their sake, but-

God, why does she look so pretty?

“Y’know,” he scratches the back of his neck, “the… The lyrics.”

“The lyrics?” “Yeah.”

“Which ones?”

She’s leaning in. Her fingers are trailing up the side of his leg, and he wants to poof himself out of this conversation but what would hiding do? Just create a bigger gap between them?

His mom always told him he was selfish. He really, really doesn’t want to be selfish to Julie. He wants to protect her. He wants to put her health and happiness and life before his. Hurting her will never give him peace.

Is he being selfish either way? Telling her his feelings to make himself feel better, and avoiding his feelings because he thinks it will be better without talking to her about it -- neither are ideal, are they?

His hand, which was previously resting in his lap, inches down to brush against hers. “The first verse…” Their index fingers wrap around each other. “And the chorus, and the second verse…”

Both of their hands tangle until Luke doesn’t even remember what his hand looked like before, because all he sees is a bronze-ivory marble of skin and he knows he doesn’t ever want to see his hand without hers again.

“Luke…”

“Yeah, Boss?” “Why were you upset?”

She really won’t let it go. She clearly knows him too well, because he would hope any other person would be distracted by the fact that they were about to kiss, but this is Julie. They’re friends first. Family first.

He owes her honesty, doesn’t he?

“Because the song was right,” he answers, staring deadlocked at their joined hands. “No matter where I am, or how much time goes by… It’s gonna be you. On my mind. My feelings will never change.”

He can’t tell, but Julie’s heart ignites in her chest.

“Feelings? What-”

Somehow, the words still don’t want to come out. The eight letters are resisting every opportunity she has offered him, so he resorts to actions and cuts her off by raising their joined hands to kiss the back of her hand.

His lips linger before their union drops back into the space between them.

“... Oh.”

“Yeah.”

In a moment of courage, Luke peeks up at her, just to see how she looks. If he can read everything she’s feeling in a millisecond of a glance.

There are tears in her eyes.

“Whoa, Jules, why are you crying?” “Why were you crying?”

“Because I’m afraid of doing this!” Her hand tightens around him at his volume. “Julie, I- I don’t want to do anything selfish. I can’t have you thinking I’m selfish. I’m afraid of-” He has to take a deep, shaky breath. “When we hold hands or when you smile at me and I just feel so much and then I tell myself that I can’t, because you have so much ahead of you, and I don’t even know what’s in my future.”

The tears well in her eyes. “What would you be doing that’s selfish, Luke? You have a second chance at life. You should fucking live it. You have a future, and it has the boys, and the band, and me. I’m in your future.”

There’s a beat, because he’s looking at her, and he wants to cry but he wants to say it so badly.

He still doesn’t know how much time he has in the future, but Julie is telling him that she’ll be there. And he needed that more than anyone would understand.

“Well, aren’t I?”

Julie’s question shocks him a little because he hadn’t realized that he had been quiet for so long. Her bottom lip trembles the smallest amount when she sucks in a deep breath, and it sets him off to do what he had once deemed to be the most selfish act of all.

His free hand tucks itself in the hair on the base of her neck and tugs her towards him before he covers her mouth with his in a kiss that he has furiously dreamed of for a long time. For such a sweet moment, there is an overload of passion behind it. All of his fantasies were rushed and adrenaline-fueled after shows before he would talk himself down; and now, that is translating to this kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps as he pulls away. “That’s the selfish thing I was worried about. Fuck, I-”

Her hand wrestles free from his, and suddenly, two hands are on his cheeks like the night after the Orpheum and the love of his life is pulling herself into his lap. On autopilot, he untucks his leg from underneath him and shifts to sit normally on the couch while Julie’s legs hold her up on each side of his hips.

And she’s kissing him again, touching him again, before he can let the panic set in. She moves her lips against his like she has her own overflowing filing cabinet of feelings and fantasies and lyrics just for him.

Her hands wondrously drain every jolt of worry and anguish from his nervous system as they run from his face to his arms to his chest and back again. Kissing Julie Molina is a thousand little feelings and it’s own feeling in itself.

When you get cold water from a water fountain and it’s so refreshing that you insatiably want more. When the set ends and Luke is taking his bows and watching people scream and clap for their performance, knowing once again he’s succeeding in the one thing he’s ever wanted to do.

Only now, making music is now tied with making Julie happy on that list of priorities.

Holding her under his hands is stupidly one of his favorite things, and in this context, it is leaving him clawing for more. He applies more pressure against her back to try and press her closer, but it never feels like enough.

Julie is an endless fountain of fervor, and he can only drink up everything he can get.

She’s the one who pulls away this time; but she keeps her fingers knotted in his hair because she plans to not stray far.

“You’re not selfish,” she sighs, chest heaving with deep breaths. “If you think that’s selfish, then I’m selfish. And we can do this together. We deserve it.”

Hearing the words tumble from her lips cancels out every fight he’s ever had with his mother.

She’s right -- they do deserve it. She shut the world out for a year, he was locked away from the world for 25, and by some miraculous turn of fate, they were brought to each other.

“We deserve it,” he repeats, a little distracted by her blown pupils and delirious smile. “We deserve it.”

They lean in at the same time to fall back into one another like it’s a new routine they’ve set. Luke doesn’t say the words, not yet, at least-

Because like she said, they deserve this. Julie Molina is on his lap, in his arms, playing him with her soft hands like his skin is the ivory keys she’s been playing since childhood. He loves her, and he’s pretty sure that she loves him -- so maybe, even though the future is uncertain, he can just wait a little longer to tell her. There’s simultaneously less of a delay and less of a rush.

Later, when they’re in her room and staying up way too late for a school night in deep discussion, he mumbles it against her forehead while she has her head tucked into his shoulder and their shared earbuds are playing The End of All Things.

Any concerns of selfishness fade when she wastes no time in reciprocating his declaration and punctuating her feelings with a cripplingly soft kiss above his collar bone.

If any of this is selfish, they can be selfish together. Luke can find himself to be content in that if Julie is right there with him.

tags: @lydias--stiles @bluefirewrites @willexx @moreflowersthanweeds @ruzek-halstead @xxprettylittletimebombxx @unsaid-emily

#juke #jukebox #jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #juke fanfic #julie molina #luke patterson #julie molina x luke patterson #palina

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