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dbnightingale24 · 11 months

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Christmas Wish List

A Johnny Storm One Shot

Surprise @autumnrose40 !! Okay, so I had planned for this to go with your gift, but as you can tell, that didn’t work out -__- . This is just a small thank you for being there for me all the time, and listen to me cry and vent about any and every thing. Also, I know that things are tricky right now, so I hope this brightens your day a bit! I love you tons and I hope you enjoy it!

Thank you, as always, to @fuckingbye for the moodboard and literally everything else that you do. I love you!

Word Count: 11,037 (don’t get used to this)

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+ Only!!!!!), Fluff, Angst, Bit of A Slow Burn, Drinking, Smoking, Swearing, SMUT, Insecurity, A Bit of Self Loathing, Bits of Depression, Shitty Ex BF...I think that’s it?

Song(s) That Inspired This Story: You’re Here, Where You Should Be

I do not consent to any of my works/stories being posted elsewhere.

You try to get lost in the Christmas music you have playing in your office, trying to block out the music that’s being played from the ballroom down the hallway. It’s not that you don’t want to observe the festivities going on for the holidays, but you just feel that it’s not the best idea.

“You don’t have to keep working,” Susan Storm laughs, causing you to jump just a little as she enters your little office with two drinks in hand. “You should be enjoying the party with the rest of us.”

Or, Mrs. Richards. She doesn’t mind either.

“No, I still have work to do, it’s okay-”

“It’ll still be waiting for you when you get back from your holiday break,” she interrupts softly as she takes a seat at the other side of your desk. “Are you gonna go and see your family?”

“Um, no family to see,” you smile awkwardly. “Parents are gone, lost them in the attack on the towers, and I don’t have much a relationship with my siblings. I’m gonna stick to the tradition I’ve been following for about...six years, now? My friends and I make our favorite foods, have a big dinner, and exchange gifts.” “That sounds like fun,” she smiles, finally putting down the drink she brought in for you.

“You didn’t have to-”

“You work hard, Y/N. I know we don’t always acknowledge it, but Reed and I do see how hard you work, and how you come in earlier or stay later than you have to. You deserve a night of fun, even if you don’t stay for the party, you should enjoy being young. How old are you? 22?”

“You’re kind!” you laugh in disbelief. “I turn 28 this year.”

“Seriously?!”

“Good genes,” you smirk and she laughs.

“Well, no one is going to hold you to all of this work. If you want to, we’d love to have you at the party,” she says with all sincerity before getting up. She looks over on your desk and sees the picture of you and Johnny at the beach from last Summer and smiles before walking away.

The teeth he had pull to get you on that bike. Sometimes, his patience truly amazed you.

It’s not like you don’t want to go, but you’re trying to avoid him. Ever since the night you made a move on him, almost two months ago, you’ve made it a point to avoid Johnny Storm at all costs. It’s not like you didn’t try and stop yourself, but Johnny Storm is just that:

A fucking storm.

However, you didn’t want to be just a notch in his bedpost so, you did the only logical thing your drunk brain could come up with: you ran out of the room like a bat outta hell. You know it didn’t mean anything, so you’re not sure why you keep thinking about it. You were both drunk and said he said some things he couldn’t have possibly meant. Drunk men will do and say anything to get into someone’s pants, and why should he be any different? Because he’s a superhero? Because he’s your best friend? What the hell does that mean to you? Yes, like most women, you think he’s gorgeous and, even though you hate to admit it, you’ve spent more than a few lonely nights getting off to the thought of him and all of the things you’re more than sure he can make you feel.

Unfortunately, for you, it’s so much more than that.

You work for the Fantastic Four, and you have for fours years now. You get to see a side of them that the rest of the world doesn’t, and that’s what made you fall so hard for him. You’ve seen him triumphant and you’ve also seen him defeated. You’ve seen him being the sweetest guy while sober, and the biggest douche while drunk. You’ve seen the temper tantrums, while you’ve also seen him step up and take charge.

You have seen every side of Johnny Storm and you can’t help but love him. You know most people don’t see it (or think it for that matter), or believe it, but he is complex. He struggles with being a son his parents would be proud of (maybe that’s why him and Tony Stark get along so well), while also struggling with his own damn personality. Johnny is a fire by default (superpowers be dammed), and he can’t help but be a little reckless. He’s the youngest and has been spoiled since birth.

He doesn’t know how else to be.

That being said, you don’t know how to turn it off. You don’t know how to not want him. He’s nothing but chaos, but for you? Well, for you, he acts like he’ll move heaven and hell for you.

You don’t know how to stop being in love with him.

As you sip the whiskey neat Susan left you, you wonder how the hell you’ll be able to keep handling this job?

How the hell will you be able to handle Johnny Storm?

Johnny’s P.O.V

Why aren’t you here? I suggested this party just for you. It’s not like I haven’t tried to fight what I feel for you, but it’s...you. Of all the people I expected to fall for, you were who I least expected. Then, I saw you that night a year ago, and you’ve been all I’ve focused on since.

“Johnny, this club is beat!” my date whined before she took a drink of whatever the hell I ordered for her. “Lets go!”

“We’ve only been here for five minutes-”

“And it’s not gonna get any better!”

“Let me finish my drink,” I mumbled, irritated that it was taking me so long to get me to what I wanted.

That’s what I get for hanging around with the crowd that I do.

“Well, make it fast,” she scowled and I rolled my eyes.

It’s not like she was wrong. For a Saturday night, at 11pm, it was pretty dead. Of course, she was scouting for new candidates once I got rid of her, and I just wanted to see if it was anything worth revisiting. I was more than ready to leave as I started to down my drink, but then...

Then, I saw you.

“You can leave if you want. I think I wanna stick this out,” I told my date as I saw you dancing and laughing with your friends to ‘If You Dare’ by Jazmine Sullivan.

“Fine,” she huffed before she ordered another a drink.

I should’ve left, because there was no reason for me to stay. We were friends and I shouldn’t have thought of you in that way. You weren’t like the women I usually dated or flirted with, you stayed focused on your work at all times, you had your priorities straight, you had been through enough and didn’t need me complicating things for you.

You looked so happy and content, and it’d been so long since I’d seen you like that. Yeah, that was on me, but it didn’t matter in that moment. You always wore modest clothes, you never smiled like that while working, you were dancing so freely, and you looked like you didn’t have a care in the world.

I tried, but I just couldn’t look away. As the songs kept playing, and the drinks kept coming, you just became more and more carefree, and it just made me miss you even more.

It’s not like I didn’t believe in real love or relationships, I just didn’t believe in them for me. Seeing you in that moment though...it had me seeing things differently. However, if I’m honest with myself, it started long before that, didn’t it?

“Johnny,” Reed called, pulling my attention away from the X-Games on the screen in front of me, “this is Y/N. Be nice to her, she’s going to help with research and also acting as a receptionist.”

“Don’t tell me you found someone to keep you occupied while Sue is busy,” I chuckled as I looked you over.

You instantly froze at that.

“Johnny!” Reed snapped.

“It was a joke,” I sighed, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“Y-you too, Mr. Storm.”

“God no,” I groaned, “Johnny. Please, call me Johnny!”

“Will do,” you laughed softly, “it’s nice to meet you, Johnny.”

Something abut that small, innocent laugh made something stir inside of me. I made that remark about you keeping Reed busy while Sue was away, because you looked like the type of nerd he’d fall for. I won’t lie though, I did think you were cute. Shy, quiet, anxious, glasses that were slightly too big for your face, a beige sweater that was too big for you, and little black pencil skirt. You were the type of woman I would’ve secretly crushed on in High School.

From that day on, you did your best to stay out of the way. You were kind to everyone, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry or get angry, you were always two hours too early and stayed three hours later than you needed to, and you rarely ever asked for days off. The days when you weren’t in the building felt empty.

Lonely.

I think what changed things for me was how you treated me after the incident with the Silver Surfer.

“Johnny?” you called softly as you came out onto the balcony.

“Stay back, I might fuck you up too,” I scowled, grabbing another beer from the six pack I brought out with me.

“You didn’t fuck up anything, Johnny,” you sighed as you took a seat next to me.

That was the first time I ever heard you curse.

“Tell that to Reed.”

“You went after the Surfer because it was your job. You didn’t do this to yourself.”

“I almost killed-”

“But you didn’t,” you interrupted softly. “Accidents happen. Are you headstrong and cocky? Absolutely,” you smirked and I couldn’t help but scoff, “but you’re also a good guy who loves his sister, his friends, and wants to do what’s best for everyone else. It was just a bad day. All of this will get sorted out and it’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do,” you smiled reassuringly before getting up, “I’ll get out of your hair so you can-”

“No....stay...if you don’t mind. It’s nice...having someone to talk to about this. It’s nice...talking to you,” I muttered as I offered you a beer.

We stayed out there for hours, talking about any and everything. That’s when I learned about your family, your awful money hungry siblings, your shitty boyfriend, your love of art, classic and horror movies, and how much you love to cook.

That’s when I learned that I was in love with you.

Fast forward two months and my luck seemed to change just a bit.

“You can’t be here, Tyler!” I heard you snap softly.

“You’re always here!” Tyler responded with a gruff tone that I didn’t appreciate at all.

How the hell could your boyfriend be getting angry with you for doing your job? Especially when he does nothing to contribute!

“It’s a fucking party-”

“Do you not see how many diplomats are here?! This is much more than a party! Deals are being made, help is being asked for, agreements are being-”

“Another fucking night that you’re not home! You’re coming home with me-”

“Let me go!” you almost yelled. “I have a fucking job to do! A job that pays our bills and keeps food in the fridge, since you lost your fucking job! Maybe, if you’d go out-”

“You little bitch! You know that wasn’t my fault! I-”

“You were drunk on the fucking job, Tyler! You got fired because you don’t know how to get your shit together!”

“You think you’re so much fucking better than-”

“Is there a problem here?” I asked as I made my way out onto the terrace.

“Johnny, everything is fine,” you scrambled frantically over to me, “you don’t have to-”

“Who the fuck are you?!” Tyler interrupted.

“A friend,” I warned as my hands flared up.

I didn’t even mean for it to happen, I was just that concerned and angry. God, what the hell were you doing to me?

“Jesus, you’re fucking the Human Torch?!” Tyler snapped.

“TYLER!”

“You need to leave,” I warned as I made my way over to him, “you weren’t invited and no one wants you here. Leave.”

“Johnny-dammit!” you snapped, touching my shoulder only to find my clothes damn near boiling.

“Fucking stay here if you want,” Tyler snapped, his laugh was condescending, “but I won’t fucking be around when you get back to the apartment. We’re done!” he spat as he stormed off.

“Are you okay?” I asked turning to look at you as soon as he was gone.

“I’m...I’m fine, I’m so sorry...you shouldn’t have had to...fuck!” you winced as clenched your fists, because you forgot all about the burn on your hand.

“Shit! Lets get you inside and wrap that up, okay?”

“No...you go back to the party!” you sobbed as you tried to fight back your tears. “You don’t have to-”

“Hey, lets get you inside, get this wrapped up, and have a few drinks, okay?”

“They’re so many people here to see you-”

“Who gives a shit?” I smirked which gained a small giggle from you. “I have something more important to take care of right now.”

You cried for hours that night and it broke my heart. You hide everything so well, all for the sake of a paycheck, that I sometimes forgot how much you had going on in your life. I forgot about the pain you hid in order to keep your head on straight, the stress you cried yourself to sleep over at night, and the anger you pushed aside so you wouldn’t lose yourself in it.

You make it so easy for people to forget, because you don’t want to inconvenience anyone. You don’t want to feel like you’re a burden, because so many people in your life have made you feel like one. I held you for hours, calmed you down, and convinced you to stay in my room that night. Of course, you protested (not wanting to put me out), but I eventually got you to agree when I lied and told you I usually sleep on the sofa anyway.

I didn’t want you crying all alone in your apartment, and if that asshole would’ve been there when you got home, someone was definitely going to get hurt.

And it wouldn’t have been you or me.

From that day on, I found reasons to be around you. Whether it was keeping you company when you stayed too late, or annoying you until you’d agree to go with me to get lunch.

I don’t know why I was so shocked by how funny you were, but you never failed to make me laugh. Whether it was an offhanded comment, your horrible impersonations of reporters who did stories on the Fantastic Four, or you singing some song you loved off-key, you constantly kept me laughing. You didn’t make a big fuss or catch an attitude when people would crowd around and ask for pictures and autographs, you just stood off to the side and waited for me, always asking if I was okay after all was said and done.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” I scoffed as we got back to the building.

“I know that you love all of the attention that comes with all of this,” you said with that smart-ass smirk of yours, “but I also know that everyone has a limit. It’s a lot to be in the public eye all the time and, on top of that, you’re a superhero. I know how loud it can get in ones brain and I just wanna make sure that you’re okay. You know you don’t have to hide from me,” you smiled up at me, with those big beautiful eyes of yours.

Of course I had to hide from you. Everyone else could see what was happening, except you. I went from wanting to be in your space to needing it. You calmed me, as lame as that sounds. That ego of mine, that always seems to grow by the second, always seemed to come back down to earth when I was around you.

“Johnny, just tell her you like her,” Susan smiled one day when she caught me staring at you from the living area.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Cause women like her don’t go for guys like me. She’s too smart for me.”

“I’m sorry, do my ears deceive me? Johnny Storm thinks someone is too good for him?” Ben laughed as he made his way down the hall.

“You don’t have any fucking ears,” I scowled with an eye roll.

“Just tell her, kid. She probably feels the same way-”

“No, she doesn’t. She couldn’t.”

“She spends a lot of time with you for someone who doesn’t feel the same,” Sue encouraged.

“It’s better this way-”

“Just got off the phone with, Stark,” Reed interrupted as he rushed into the hallway, “he and Bruce have discovered a cosmic disturbance and it’s headed...did I miss something? Why are we all looking at Y/N? Is she okay?”

“This is the guy you chose to spend forever with?” I asked Sue with a cocked eyebrow.

“Trust me, I question it sometimes too,” she muttered with an eye roll.

“What am I missing?!”

“Just let it go, buddy,” Ben laughed, “what’s wrong with the world this time?”

After that, I did my best to stay away. It would’ve been best for everyone. I don’t know how to do relationships, and you deserve someone who isn’t emotionally stunted.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

“Did I do something wrong?” you asked one day as you cautiously approached the kitchen.

“What? No. Why would you think that?”

“You just...you seem far away. You don’t come and visit me, we don’t get lunch together anymore, you don’t stay with me after work anymore...”

“You’re perfect,” I sighed, hating how much pain was in your eyes, “I just figured I was becoming a distraction for you. Plus, I know there have been some rumors that we’re dating circling around, and I don’t want you getting hassled.”

“That’s outside. Even in here, you avoid me like the plague. I don’t know, I just feel like we haven’t spent time together in forever.”

“I’ve just had a lot on my mind. There’s a lot going on.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t wanna bother you with it.”

“Johnny, if there’s something I did-”

“It’s not you, sweetheart. I promise.”

God, I hated how sad you looked and I hated that I was the reason for it, but I really felt like it would be for the best. For once, I was trying my hardest not to be selfish. I buried myself in as much work as I could, I went back to dating random models and socialites, and I did my best to avoid you.

“You’re a real asshole, Johnny,” Susan scolded as she made her way into my room.

“Aren’t you supposed to knock before you start harassing someone?”

“Johnny, you’re breaking Y/N’s heart!”

“Stop being so dramatic. I’m sure she’s fine-”

“Then why did I just catch her crying in the research office?”

“Susan-”

“What the hell is wrong with you? You spent every waking moment with her, brought her flowers, her favorite foods, stayed late with her every chance you got, and now? Now, you’re back to hooking up with the same airheads and getting into dead end relationships!”

“Susan-”

“You finally found someone perfect for you and you’re just letting her go? For what? Because you refuse-”

“SUSAN!” I snapped, tired of hearing all of the wrong reasons I’m staying away. “Just stay out of it.”

“What am I missing here, Johnny?”

“It’s just better this way. She’s better off this way. Whatever she thinks she feels for me will go away.”

“Johnny-”

“Just stay out of it, Susan, and close the door on your way out.”

I could tell by the way her eye was twitching that she wanted to say more, but just nodded, before leaving and slamming my door shut.

It’s not like it wasn’t hurting me too, but I didn’t do relationships. I never knew how. I didn’t want my first real attempt to be with you, fuck it up, then lose you forever and all together.

You’re entirely too important to me, and if we’re going to be together, I want it to be forever.

So, I pretended to not feel your longing gaze on me when I would walk by, pretended that I didn’t hear quiet sobs at night when you thought we were all off doing something else, and I pretended that I wasn’t the loneliest I’d ever been in my life.

In response to all of the hell I brought upon myself, I was more irritated than usual, more times than not I ignored Reed and did what I thought was best (everyone loved that), I went to pointless parties with empty headed people, and I kept looking for comfort in women whose names I didn’t care to remember.

No, it wasn’t the best solution, but what else could I do? As much as I was pissing everyone else off, they didn’t say anything. Everything was fine until I saw you on that dance floor.

“Those things will kill you,” I smirked, coming up behind you outside as I snapped my fingers and made a small flame appear.

“Mr. Storm!” you gasped as you almost dropped it. “I...I didn’t know you were here.”

“Mr. Storm? Really?” I scoffed as you lit your cigarette with the flame I made you. “When have I ever wanted you to call me that?”

“Things are different now...” you trailed off before you took a drag of your cigarette.

“When did you start that?” I questioned, nodding towards the cigarette.

“Um two months ago? Maybe three, I’m not sure.”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing really, just some shit with my siblings, it’s fine. You should get back to your date-”

“She can wait. What’s going on?”

“Mr. Storm-”

“Stop calling me that.”

“No, it’s better if I don’t. I got too comfortable before-”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. I don’t know, I thought we were friends-”

“We are friends. You’re my best friend.”

“Best friends don’t just randomly start ignoring each other.”

“I’m sorry. I was going through something and I didn’t know how to talk about it. I’m back though. I miss you.”

“Mr. Storm-”

“Sweetheart, please.”

“Johnny...that really hurt. You just left and you didn’t-”

“I really am sorry, sweetheart. I won’t do it again.”

“I should get back inside,” you sighed as you dropped your cigarette and stomped on it.

“JOHNNY! OVER HERE!” a photographer yelled as he started snapping away.

“Fucks sake-”

“It’s fine, I’ll head back inside-”

“Let me take you back to-”

“ARE YOU TWO BACK ON?!” another photographer yelled, “WHAT’S HER NAME?!”

“Lets get you out of here,” I growled as I hugged you close, covered your face, and got us a cab.

Once we got inside, you didn’t let me go, and it tugged at my heart more than I thought it would.

“I really missed you, Johnny.”

“I know, I missed you too, babe.”

“Don’t leave me again, please.”

“I promise I won’t.”

From that day on, we went back to how we were almost instantly. You even started inviting me over to your place. Once again, everyone was pushing me to ask you out, but being apart of your life again was more than enough for me. I stopped going out so much, my attitude went back normal (which according to Ben wasn’t much better), and stopped partying (which made Sue happy).

Every night that I had those feelings, I took care of it myself, your name softly leaving my lips every time. If all I could do was want you, that was fine by me. I still didn’t trust myself with you and I had no intention of fucking things up again.

At least, that’s what I told myself at the time. Then, two months ago, I ruined everything.

“Why are you still working?” I pouted as I poked my head inside your office.

“Because there’s still work to be done,” you giggled, not even looking up from the screen.

“It’s 11:30 on a Friday. You know you’ll come in tomorrow and finish up-”

“Maybe I’ll take tomorrow off, you never know.”

“Yeah, and do what?” I smirked as you shook your head.

God, you were so damn cute when you got flustered.

“I don’t know. Go to Ithaca and walk down a waterfall.”

“What the hell?”

“You can! I’ve done it before!”

“You’ll have to take me one day,” I laughed, “c’mon, close up shop and lets go.”

“Go where, Johnny? I don’t feel like going to a club, or a bar.”

“I’ll order us some food, we’ll have some drinks, and we’ll watch a movie.”

“We can do that any day.”

“Yes, but I want to do it today. So,” I started as I pushed myself off the door frame, “lets turn all this bullshit off and decide on dinner.”

“Johnny!” you laughed as I pulled you out of your seat.

“You know you’d rather be hanging out with me anyway.”

“You’re nothing but trouble,” you giggled.

“It’s your favorite thing about me.”

Everything was going fine. We ended up getting Chinese food, drinks were flowing, the conversation was great, and we ended up watching the ‘Philadelphia Story’.

At some point, you ended up in my lap, and I was holding you as if I’d never let you go. Yeah, we’d been drinking, but I should’ve known better than to let it get that far in the first damn place.

“Don’t you want that, Johnny?” you softly slurred as you laid your head on my shoulder.

“What? A bunch of tricks and schemes, and a failed wedding?” I laughed, just as drunk as you were as I brushed your hair out of your face.

“No! To rediscover your true love and make it work!”

“Is that you want?”

“I think I just want to find my true love,” you chuckled as your arms snaked up and around my neck.

You felt like home.

“What about you?” you asked softly.

“What about me?”

“What do you want in a soulmate? What are you looking for?”

“I don’t think I’m soulmate material.”

“Of course you are! Everyone is,” you promised sympathetically as one of your hands cupped my cheek.

I should’ve stopped it right then and there, but between the alcohol coursing through my veins and how bad I’ve needed you, I couldn’t have pumped the breaks if I’d wanted to.

“What would I want in a soulmate? Someone like you, I guess.”

“Someone like me?”

“You’re perfect,” I confessed softly as I met your soft gaze.

God, you looked so beautiful. When didn’t you?

“Johnny, you and I both know-”

“You’ve been everything to me for the longest time. If I were looking for someone to spend forever with, it would be you,” I admitted as I tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

In the blink of an eye, your lips were on mine and it felt like heaven. Everything that I had day dreamed of and imagined, came to life in that moment. When your fingers found their way into my hair, I did nothing to stop them. Even with how tight you were gripping my hair, it was still the closest to heaven that I’d ever felt.

“Y/N,” I moaned as you straddled me.

I had every intention to tell you to stop, but it just felt too damn good. Imagine your favorite dream or fantasy finally becoming real.

This was better than that.

“I’ve wanted you for so damn long,” I whispered as I started to trail kissing along the column of your neck. “I’ve needed you.”

“I’m all yours,” you whimpered as your hands traveled down to the hem of my shirt, “I’ve always been yours.”

You broke away for just a second to take my shirt off, and the whimper that left your mouth had me smirking. It was nice to know that you liked what you saw. Once again, somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I should’ve stopped, but the thought alone was too much for me. Instead, I reached for your panties and ripped them off, having to remind myself not to get too excited.

“Johnny,” you whined, “thought about having you like this for so long!”

“Fuck,” I growled into your neck, trying not to get too rough when I bit your neck “you fucked this perfect little cunt thinking about me?”

“So many fucking times!” you confessed with a moan as you ground yourself against me.

There was no way I was stopping.

“Lift those arms, baby. Gotta get this fucking shirt off. I need to see all of you,” I begged with a husk.

And that’s when everything changed.

“No...no, no! What the fuck am I doing?!” you questioned as mortification showed all over your face.

“What’s wrong?”

“This is...this is all wrong! Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you almost sobbed as you got off of me. “Fuck!”

“Y/N-”

“I’m so sorry, Johnny. I have to go,” you sobbed before you ran out of my room.

Since that night, you’ve avoided me like the plague and it’s not like I can be mad at you. I never planned on it going that far, and if it were to ever go that far, I wanted us both to be sober. I can only imagine that you ran off because you didn’t want to be just another trinket.

Another trophy fuck.

Every time I tried to talk about it, you had an excuse not to. Sometimes it was work, other times it had to do with your friends, and sometimes you just told the truth and told me you didn’t wanna talk about it.

I tried to think of a way to make it up to you, but nothing felt right. Flowers felt too small, your favorite food felt like a cop out, and there was no way in hell that you were gonna wanna be alone with me again.I wanted to do something for Halloween, since I know it’s your favorite holiday, but I couldn’t think of anything you’d want to do with me. So, that just left Christmas.

“Sue, why don’t you throw a Christmas party?” I suggested nonchalantly as I sauntered into her office.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with Y/N not speaking to you, would it?”

“She has nothing to do with this. She and I are just fine-”

“You’re a shitty liar when it comes to me, Johnny. So, don’t try it.”

“I just thought it would be nice. We’re invited to every party, but we’ve never thrown one ourselves.”

There was no way in hell that I was about to fess up and say this was all for you. The last thing I needed was everyone giving me unsolicited advice.

“I’m not buying it, but you make a good point,” she sighed as she sat back in her chair. “I’ll talk to Reed about it-”

“You’re not gonna let him be in charge, right?”

“Just because I’m in love with the man, doesn’t mean I’d leave him in charge of any social event,” she scowled and I chuckled.

“Thank you, Sue. I mean it.”

“Whatever is going on between you two will work itself out,” she promised with a reassuring smile.

I don’t think I’ve ever worked so hard on anything in my life, or been so damn stressed. I made sure to have all of your favorite foods on the menu, your favorite deserts, and your favorite drinks. I’m more than sure I annoyed the hell out of Sue, but I didn’t give a damn. As long as everything was set up how you would like it, I didn’t care who I pissed off.

Now, everyone is here except for you. Going to see you won’t help anything, but even if you don’t forgive me, I at least want you to enjoy a party that was built around you.

“Johnny, standing in a corner and pouting won’t help anything,” Susan sighs coming up next to me.

“This is her favorite song,” I mutter as ‘Silent Night’ starts playing.

“Is that why three different versions of it are on the playlist?”

“I wanna make sure she hears it.”

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“She’s still not here, Sue. Even if she doesn’t wanna see me...they’re a ton of people here and she’s still not here.”

“What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter.” “Johnny-”

“Just drop it, Sue.”

“Well, give it time. I went to see her and, while I can tell that she’s torn, I think she’s going to show up.”

“How are you so sure?”

“I can just tell. When something is right, it just works out,” she smiles before turning her attention back to the crowd, “Natasha! Bruce! I’m so happy you were able to make it!” she beams before walking off.

I pray that she’s right, because I don’t know what took me so long to realize that you’re the only person I’ll ever want to commit to. I know that I can be a real pain in the ass and difficult, but I’m willing to work on myself if it means that I can have forever with you.

I’m willing to do any and everything if it means I can make you mine.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed with the party. All of your favorite foods, you’re more than sure you’ve heard at least four different versions of ‘Silent Night’, every drink option that you love...

It has to be Johnny.

God, why did that night have to happen? Where the hell did your self control go? No, you don’t think Johnny would ever intentionally hurt you, but you also know that Johnny is shit with commitment. It’s not like the man doesn’t try, but you also know that the idea of him being with one person forever terrifies him.

However, that doesn’t change the fact that you miss him so damn much.

You came into the party with the intention of staying out of sight and out of mind, but Ben was in a good mood and pulled you into a conversation about latest research you were helping Reed with until Alicia pulled him away. You tried to get back to your corner of solitude, but somehow, you found everyone wanting to talk to you.

Unbeknownst to you, Reed and Sue had been talking you up. Telling everyone how much they appreciate all the hard work you do, how committed you are to your work, and how your attitude always brightens the mood, no matter how bleak things may seem.

Now, you’re being asked left and right if you’re willing to split your time, if you have any friends that are just as hard working as you, and where you studied Science at (in hopes of finding someone just as dedicated as you). As flattered as you are, you just want to stay in a corner by yourself, quietly scanning the room for Johnny (and whoever he brought as a date), and make sure that he’s happy. For as heartbroken as you’ve been for the last two months, that doesn’t mean you don’t want to see him happy.

Even if it is with someone else.

Sure, you could go and talk to him and put an end to all of this, but that would mean facing him, and you’re not ready for that just yet. Yes, you were both drunk and got swept away, but you don’t know how to handle it the way you think you should yet. The fact of the matter is: you love Johnny Storm. You have been for a while and you had been doing such a good job at hiding it. You’d seen the type of women Johnny fooled around with, and you knew you’d never live up to those standards. Yeah, he remember what he said that night, but he was also drunk and horny. No, he’s not a bad guy, but you’ve seen him play women before by drawing it out even though it was obvious to everyone else that he had no intention of sticking around. You’d like to believe that you were different, but once again, he was drunk and horny.

Accidents happen all the time.

However, you’ve been asking yourself the same question over and over again since the whole thing happened: if you could take any of it back, would you? You come to the same answer every time.

Hell no.

Having some of Johnny was better than having none of him, even if it was only for a moment. So, you told yourself that the next time you see Johnny, you’re going to apologize for your actions, promise him it’ll never happen again, and hope that you two can go back to the way things were.

At least that’s what you keep telling yourself.

After a few more uncomfortable conversations, you’re finally able to grab yourself a drink and make your way back into a corner. It seems silly to be in a corner of a party that seems to be catered around the things you love, but you just feel safer. Being in that room full of high profile diplomats and superheros just doesn’t feel right alone. It won’t feel okay unless Johnny is by your side.

“Why don’t you ever come to any of the parties?” Johnny asked you as he met you outside of your apartment complex. “You’re always invited.”

“Those parties are the last place I belong,” you scoffed as you put on the sunglasses he gifted you last week.

He told he got them for you because he was tired of you blocking out the sun with frames that didn’t suit your face.

“Why do you say that?’

“Cause that’s not me...it’s you,” you motioned towards him.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“You constantly save the world, and you’re ‘Mr. Personality’. That whole thing is your scene, not mine.”

“You’ve been huge help on all of those missions-”

“I’m a behind the scenes kind of woman, Johnny.”

“You don’t have to be. You could go with me,” he offered and you rolled your eyes.

“It’s all fun and games until you leave me for some model-”

“You know better than that, sweetheart. I wouldn’t leave you alone in a crowd, especially when I know how uncomfortable it’d make you.”

“You’d wanna be seen with me over some shiny model?”

“You’d wanna be seen with me over some fuckin’ book about space and atoms?” he questioned with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk as you let out a full bodied laugh. “Why wouldn’t I wanna be seen with you?”

“I’m not the kind of woman you’re ever seen with.”

“That’s because the only time you hangout with me is when we hangout for lunch.”

“When else can we hangout? You’re always busy or fucking.”

“We can hangout whenever you want, just say the word.”

“Yeah okay.”

“I mean it, tell me when you want to hangout and we will.”

“I wouldn’t even know what to do.”

“What are you doing today?”

“Lunch with you and then I was gonna do some more research on-”

“It’s your day off!”

“There’s always more work to be-”

“Yeah no, we’re hanging out. Your schedule has just been cleared. I know exactly what we’re gonna do,” he smirked as he pulled you along with him.

“Johnny-”

“Trust me!”

Usually, you hate Summer. You don’t like the beaches in New York, so there’s never one to go to. Sure, you can go to Jersey, but it’s always crowded and such a hassle to get to that, by the time you get there, you’re not even in the mood to do anything anymore. So, you usually stay in and do your best to avoid the heat, which is impossible because the city is always filled with too many people.

Summer hadn’t been something you’d enjoyed in a while.

However, that day that you spent with Johnny was one of the best days you’d ever had with him. He took you to one his favorite sports bars, spoiled you just a bit with new glasses and a necklace that he saw you eyeing while you waited for him to get off the phone with Reed, took you to his favorite casual restaurant for lunch, took you to the MET (you couldn’t tell but it made his heart so full to see you so happy), accompanied you on a stroll through Central Park, treated you to a movie, took you to dinner at Carmines (how he knew you’d always wanted to go is something you still don’t know), and ended the night with riding you around on his motorcycle (which only took about 20 minutes worth of convincing).

“See? I’m pretty fun to hangout with,” Johnny smirked as you both leaned against his bike, looking out at the view from the Brooklyn Bridge.

“I had the best day I’ve had in a while,” you smiled, laying your head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry about some of the hell we had to deal with today. The paparazzi and the fans-”

“It wasn’t terrible,” you shrugged. “Yeah, I was completely out of my comfort zone, but I felt safe with you.”

“Yeah, hanging with The Torch has the effect,” he said smugly and you burst out laughing.

“Never refer to yourself that way around me ever again,” you breathed once you finally caught your breath. “It has nothing to do with you being ‘The Human Torch’. I just feel safe with you...I trust you. I always have.”

“Yeah? Enough to go to one of these parties with me?”

“I will go to a party with you, I promise,” you giggled.

“Ready for me to take you home?”

“Lets stay here just a little bit longer?” you begged softy.

“We can do whatever you want, sweetheart.”

You wish you could just go back to that night. Everything was simple, and the both of you were so happy. Now, it’s all a fucking mess.

“Hey,” a familiar voice says softly from behind you. A voice you’ve missed more than you’ll ever be able to put into words.

You told yourself that you’d be gracious about the whole thing that you’d talk to him like an adult. Yet, the second you feel his breath on the back of your neck, you take off running like a deer in the headlights.

In fucking heels no less.

“Y/N! Please!” Johnny yells running after you.

Why are you running? There’s literally no reason to. It’s not like any crimes were committed and you didn’t murder anyone. All you did was almost completely give yourself to the one person your heart burns for.

No big deal.

You’re quick to get inside your office and start pacing, taking deep breaths as you try and calm your nerves. Why can’t you calm down? You can do this! You’ve talked to Johnny about so many things that were much more difficult than this, so what is the problem? You just want him back in your life, so you need to stop hiding from him (literally), and grow up.

“Wh...when the fuck did you...become a fast...fast runner?” Johnny breaths as he leans against your door.

“I’m sorry...” you mumble, toying with fingers and looking at your feet.

“Can you please talk to me? This is insane! It doesn’t have to be like this!”

“I know and I’m sorry, I really am. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about everything, but its turning out to be a lot harder than I thought.”

“Why? Yes, things got...heated, but we’ve always been able to-”

“We’ve never even kissed before, Johnny. That night...it’s not the same.”

“We’ve talked about more complicated things than almost hooking-”

“Johnny, I love you. I am so in love with you and I...I had planned on keeping it to myself, because you don’t do relationships, and that’s fine! I was fine with how we were, but then we kissed and said things...my panties came off...I’ve been wanting to talk to you, but it’s hard, because now you know. I made the first move, I said what I said...I wanted to talk to you, but I just couldn’t be around you yet,” you finish softly.

Wow, that came out a lot easier than you expected.

Since he isn’t responding you keep going, “I’m happy to just be your friend, Johnny. You’re always going to be my best friend, but I know we can’t be together, and I can’t take seeing you with other women yet and-”

“Why not?”

“Why not what? Why can’t I take seeing you with other women? Johnny, I just told you I’m in love with you-”

“No, why can’t we be together?”

“Is that a joke? You don’t-”

“I can-”

“Johnny-”

“For you, I can do anything,” he promises sincerely as you finally meet his gaze.

“Lets not do this-”

“I love you, Y/N. I love you and I have for a while now. I’ve had a crush on you since I first saw you, and the more I got to know you, the more all of it spiraled out of control. Why do you think I stayed away for those four months? I was trying to get over and distance myself from you, because I didn’t want to fuck all of this up. I didn’t want to ruin your chances with someone else by breaking your heart. I really did my best to leave you alone, but I was miserable without you, which I think speaks volumes about how much I love you. Even with Raye, which we both know it’s because of me that didn’t work out, I wasn’t all that broken up about it. Yeah, I hated that I hurt her, but you saw how quickly I bounced back from that. I can’t bounce back from you, Y/N. I can’t and I don’t want to.”

“Johnny-”

“I’m loneliest when I’m without you, I’m constantly in a shitty mood when we’re not speaking, whenever I’m out fighting to save the world I’m only thinking of saving you, your laugh is my favorite sound in the world, I listen to your voicemails when we’re not talking because it’s the only thing that soothes me, your touch is what I crave more than anything else in the world, I’m lost when you’re not around...I am so insanely in love with you. I love you to the point that it hurts.”

“Johnny...”

“If you don’t want this, that’s fine, but I think you do. I think you want this as bad as I do,” he states softly as he makes his way over to you.

“You don’t...you don’t like relationships. You said so yourself that they’re just not for you because you don’t wanna be chained to someone-”

“That was before and it was stupid for me to say that. I don’t know, I just...I don’t feel like that with you, sweetheart. If you want me to stay away, I understand and I’ll do just that,” he promises softly as he stands in front of you.

“I...I didn’t say that,” you confess, looking down at your fingers.

Using his forefinger, he gently lifts your chin so your gaze is on him, “tell me what you want.”

“I want to believe that you want this, because it’s all I’ve been thinking about for a while and...I don’t believe you’d ever hurt me, but I know you, Johnny. I know...how you act and that commitment scares you and I don’t want to be-”

“I wouldn’t say anything if I wasn’t serious about this. Serious about us.”

“Johnny-”

“There’s no one on this planet, or the others for that matter, that I find more beautiful than you. No one gets me like you do, no one cares for me like you do, no one...loves me like you do, Y/N. I don’t want to be with anyone else, I don’t look at anyone else, and I’m never gonna love anyone the way I love you. You’re the only person I’ll ever want to commit to and that’ll never change.”

“Say it again,” you beg softly as he leans in closer.

“You’re the only person I’ll ever want to commit to,” he breathes softly, his face a mere few inches from yours, “and that’ll never change.”

Before you have a chance to think of an argument, his lips are on yours and you’re gone. Yes, you still have your fears and reservations, but you miss Johnny. You already missed him when you weren’t around, but now that you’ve kissed him and felt his hands all over you in that way, you crave it more than anything else in the world.

You crave him.

“Johnny,” you moan as he kisses down your neck.

In all honesty, you wanna tell him to stop, but you can’t seem to form the words or remember why. Instead, you wrap your legs around him as he picks you up and places you on your desk. What’s the point of stopping anyway? You believe him and it’s starting to become very clear that you two are no longer able to keep your hands to yourselves when along together.

“I fucking missed you,” Johnny growls, hiking up your skirt then ripping off your panties, “never letting you go again.” “Fuck!” you gasp at the feel of his thumb on your clit.

You’re more than sure the warmth flooding through your body has nothing to do with his power.

“So fucking wet already? We’ve barely gotten started,” he smirks teasing your cunt with his fingers.

“Pl...please,” you whimper softly, “dreamt of this for so long!”

“Tell me what you’ve dreamt of,” he coos as slowly sinks two fingers into your desperate and greedy cunt.

Right now, you love him just as much as you hate him for torturing you.

“Having...having you all to myself, loving me, pulling me...apart, oh my God!” you cry out at the feel of him curling his fingers. “John...Johnny please!”

“Tell me more,” he pushes, picking up his pace just a little, applying just a bit of pressure to clit, which only makes you cry out in pleasure as you start grinding yourself against his fingers. “You’re a fucking dream, babygirl. Tell me!”

“Fuck! I’ve thought about...oh Johnny,” you moan, lulling your head back as you feel a warm sensation on your clit, kicking shoes off and curling your toes.

“Never thought I’d ever have you like this, baby. So fucking perfect, baby. Gotta tell me more or I won’t let you cum, and I can tell just how bad you want to by the way this pussy is squeezing my fingers,” he chuckles, easily sliding in a third.

“Jesus!”

“No, just Johnny,” he teases as he picks up his pace. “C’mon sweetheart, be a good girl and tell me more!” “Aht! I’ve...I’ve been dreaming of you on your knees eating my pussy while fingering my ass, want...wanna taste you so fucking bad, Johnny!”

“Fuck,” he growls, no longer teasing you, and you can tell he’s desperate to give you whatever you want. “Keep going, babygirl!”

“Dreamt of you fucking me hard and fast, claiming and making me all yours! I wanna feel you so deep inside my pussy, baby!”

“Give it to me, sweetheart! Be a good girl and cum hard for me!”

Your body has been ready to obey anything Johnny has to say for years, so you’re not surprised that you squirt hard on his fingers as the words leave his mouth. You’d be embarrassed, but you’ve wanted this for so long that you just can’t be bothered to feel any shame. All the cards are laid on the table now, so he may as well see every side of you.

Not just the parts that are work appropriate.

Johnny grips your neck with his free hand before puling you upright and crashing his lips into yours, “who knew my perfect girl was so filthy?” he broods once you two break apart, still fucking you through your high.

“Need you, Johnny! Please!”

“I’m gonna take care of you, baby, I promise,” he smirks, removing his fingers and bringing them up to your lips, “open.”

Keeping your gaze on him, you open your mouth and stick your tongue, your pussy clenching around nothing at the feral growl that leaves his mouth.

“Suck ‘em clean, sweetheart,” he commands, as he gets down on his knees.

You feel his breath on your core when you remember, “not here!” you mumble around his fingers. “The cameras!”

You hear him mumble incoherent against your folds and you whine in pure want, needing one of you to come with a solution fast. Thankfully, Johnny’s on his feet almost instantly, taking your hand in his while he removes his fingers from your mouth, and pulls you along with him.

“Follow me, sweetheart,” he broods, practically jogging down the hall.

At least he’s just a desperate for you as you are for him.

He pulls you into the elevator with him, hits a button without even looking at it, before pinning you against the wall and kissing you passionately. One of his hands snakes its way up your skirt, and you moan into the kiss as he starts fucking you with two fingers.

“They’re cameras in here too,” you giggle with a breathy moan as he starts biting and sucking on your neck.

“A little making out in the elevator never hurt anyone,” he smirks before licking the spot he just bit.

“And how about getting fingered?”

“They can’t see that, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear before biting the shell of it.

Johnny Storm is gonna be the death of you.

When the elevator finally arrives at the floor he selected, you whine in protest when he removes his fingers, and is pulling you out of the elevator. In almost no time at all, he has you pinned against his bedroom wall and is kicking his door closed before getting on his knees.

“You don’t know how much I’ve gotten off to the thought of eating this perfect little pussy, baby,” he groans before licking your clit.

This must be what heaven feels like.

“Oh my fuck...Johnny! Yes!” you cry out, running your fingers through his soft brown locks, gripping them tight before grinding your your pussy against his face.

He easily slides two fingers into your soaked cunt, curling them as they give you a warm sensation. When you feel his lips pulling on your clit, you lull your head back and hike your right leg over his shoulder, granting him better access to your greedy cunt so he can fuck you deeper. His free hand travels up your side, finding yours, and he entwines his fingers with yours.

The small gesture makes your flutter and fall in love even more.

“I love you so much...Johnny! Need to feel you, please!”

Maybe it’s because it’s Christmas, or maybe it’s because he’s just as desperate as you, but your pleas doesn’t fall on deaf ears. He starts licking and sucking on your clit with such ferocity, you won’t be surprised if the whole hears you as you yell his name, a euphoric cloud washing over you as you coat his fingers and lower half of his face with your desire, gaining a grunt of approval from him as he fucks you through your high.

“I will be back down here tonight,” he promises as he kisses his way up your body, unzipping your skirt and letting it fall freely to the ground, “ but right now, I wanna get lost inside of you.”

“Please,” you whisper once he’s on his feet again, unbuckling his belt as quickly as you can.

“You sure you want this, sweetheart?”

“Too late to turn back now, and I don’t want to. I love you and I want this with you, I want everything with you.”

“God, I’ve waited so long to hear you say that,” he smiles before crashing his lips into yours.

Clothes come off easily, and they’re no sounds other than the desperate and hungry kisses you both are giving one another. His skin is heated and his touches are soft and, for the moment, you can’t remember what the hell you were so afraid of. Being here with Johnny, like this, and having him all to yourself is all you’ve ever wanted. You know the fear will come back later when all is said and done, but with the way he looks at you, the way he holds you, and has always looked out for you, it’s hard to believe that he would ever hurt you.

It’s hard to believe that this isn’t meant to be.

“Lay back, baby,” you tell him breathlessly as you softly push him back, “I’m gonna take care of you tonight.”

“You are nothing like I imagined,” he smirks and you laugh softly.

“Is that good or bad?”

“So fucking good,” he broods as you dip down lick the tip of his heated length. “Fuck,” he sighs as he grips the sheets.

“Just relax, baby. Let your good girl make you feel good.”

No, giving Johnny Storm (aka the Human Fucking Torch) a blowjob probably isn’t your best interest, but you’ve dreamed about it too long to not do it.

You smooth your hand over his abs, your pussy clenching around nothing as you try and figure out how you got so lucky, while you’re hand strokes him in an attempt to prepare yourself for his size and length.

“Just relax,” you coo before finally getting your mouth on him, moaning in satisfaction at the taste of him.

“Shit! That’s it, babygirl! Fuck, just like that!” he moans as you start to take as much of him as you can.

Your movements are slow at first, taking more of him bit by bit as you relax your throat to accommodate him, falling in love with the way that you’re making squirm beneath you and breathe heavy. Once you’re finally able to fully accommodate him, you’re unable to to control yourself when you pick up your pace as your hand starts to play with his balls.

“FUCK Y/N!” he proclaims, eyes clenched shut as he tries to control himself.

You run your hand over his his abs in an attempt to calm him, but it’s useless because you’re too worked up yourself. You turn your gaze up towards him to find that his gaze on you is intense and heated. In fact, you’re more than sure you see a little orange tint around his eyes, and it only turns you on more to see how much you’re playing with fire.

Literally.

“Not gonna....fuck, I’m so....FUCK!” he exclaims, filling your mouth to the brim, bucking his hips a little as he fucks all of it into your mouth.

You ignore the desperate longing between your legs as you do your best to swallow everything he has to offer, wanting to make sure you don’t miss a single drop.

“You okay?” you smirk once you’ve cleaned him to your satisfaction.

“I need to be inside of you right now, get your ass on top of me,” he growls as you giggle.

“Tell me what you want and I’ll do it,” you promise as you straddle him, rocking your hips against his, your soaked lips dragging along his cock.

“I want you to do whatever you want...whatever will make you happy, sweetheart. I’m yours to use however you want,” he moans as his hands start to travel up your body.

“I want to make you as happy as you’ve always made me,” you moan, adjusting yourself so you can align him with your entrance. “I wanna show you just how much I love you...SHIT!” you cry out once you start to slide down on him.

You’ve never been so full and you’re not even half way down.

“Oh my GOD!” you whimper, loving the delicious burn of him stretching you. “Fuck!”

“Never had a cock this big before, sweetheart?” he questions with a cocky grin, with his mouth slightly agape.

“N-no, but...I can t-tell you’ve never been in a pussy t-this tight!” you moan, finally settling against his hips.”Tell me how good it feels baby,” you moan, pressing your hands against his chest, the hairs a welcome comfort as you dig your nails into his pecs.

“Fuck, best pussy I’ve ever been inside of,” groans as he grips your hips tight, the heat radiating from his hands sending you closer to release. “Thought having you like this to myself for so long, and God, you’re better than any fucking fantasy that I ever came up with...fuck! That’s it, baby!” he encourages as you pick up your pace, rolling your hips against him. “So fucking beautiful!”

“S-so fucking close!” you whine, clawing at his chest, finding that spot deep inside that only ever seemed to exist when you used your vibrator. “Aht, aht! YES!” you cry out, squirting hard as you try and ride out your high.

You’re only left in charge for a second before Johnny wraps an arm around yourself, and sits upright which only pushes him in further.

“FUCK!”

“You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen, did you know that?” he broods, gripping your hips before starting fucking into you relentlessly.

“Johnny! Please...feels too good!”

“I’ve been watching you for so long, imagining what it would be like to be worthy of you...your love...fuck, the way this cunt squeezes me!”

“Never felt this good!”

“Gonna spend all night showing you just how much I love you...how much I’ve needed you,” he mumbles into your chest, before taking one of your nipples into his mouth and licking it.

“Fuck!” you gasp, running your hands through his hair as you try to hold on, still tying to recover from the last orgasm.

His tongue is deliciously vicious against your nipple, showing no mercy at your desperate whimpers and pleas, not even when tears start forming in your eyes. You’ve never felt this good in your life, and while you’re more than sure you’ll be sore tomorrow, it’ll be more than worth it. You’ve been waiting for this forever and there’s nothing that could make you regret it.

You’ll never regret giving all of yourself to him.

“Mmm Johnny! Too much!”

“I know you can give me more,” he encourages with a husk, looking up to see you in your blissed out state. “You’re fucking gorgeous,” he groans, his skin getting just a bit hotter, sending you over another euphoric waterfall.

At some point, you’re going to need to remember to invest in aloe.

“Ya know, I don’t think my bed has ever been this wet,” he chuckles, before getting you on your back and starting to fuck into relentlessly. “I think I wanna make this a nightly thing,” he husks, entwining fingers with one of your hands, while the other is planted firmly by your head.

“Oh my GOD!”

“What do you think about that, babygirl? Hmm? Be my good girl during the day....my filthy, desperate little thing at night?”

“Johnny...” you sob, that knot in your core tightening again.

He dips down and whispers against your ear hotly, “I think that’s exactly how it should be. Cause you were made for me, just like I was made for you.”

You feel your legs start to tremble as another orgasm starts to build, and you truly wonder if you’ll be able to last the rest of the night after this one.

“C’mon babygirl, I need it. Please,” he rasps into the crook of your neck as his movements become erratic.

“Too much! I...I...FUCK!”

“Y/N!” he shouts as he fills you with his seed, you squirting on his cock, only soaking the bed even more.

As you fade out of consciousness, you try to remember if you’ve ever felt so full and loved in your life, and you’re pretty sure you haven’t.

“You okay, sweetheart?” you faintly hear him ask, and you only have enough energy to nod. “Did I take it too far for you?” he chuckles and you giggle.

“No baby, I just need a minute, “ you smile up at him. He dips down and starts peppering kisses all over your face and you start laughing, “don’t tell me that you’re a giant softie underneath that giant ego of yours.”

“You know it’s only for you. Its always only ever been for you,” he groans as he pulls out, before laying down beside you and pulling you close.

“And why is that, Johnny Storm?” you question as you lay your head on his chest, feeling secure and like you’re loved.

“Because I love you.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you,” he chuckles before kissing the top of your head.

“I don’t know if I should even bother giving you the actual Christmas gift I got you,” you smirk as you start to press soft kisses along his chest.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he sighs, and you can tell he’s getting worked up all over again.

“Hmm? Why’s that?” you ask, propping yourself up on one arm, while the other softly stokes his chest.

“Because,” he starts, cupping your cheek and stroking it gently, “you were all that I wanted, and it’s been that way for a long time now, Y/N. You were all that I had on my Christmas wish list.”

taglist: @autumnrose40, @fuckingbye, @emerald-evans, @maroonsunrise83, @whxre4cevans, @sweetflowerdreams, @whiskeytangofoxtrot555, @companionjones, @pono-pura-vida, @nomadstucky, @mazda098

#Johnny Storm #johnny storm x you #johnny storm x reader #Fantastic Four AU #Fantastic Four Fanfic #Marvel AU #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fiction #Marvel Universe #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic #johnny storm x female reader #chris evans character fanfiction #Johnny Storm Smut

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cordria · 1 year

Text

Need some help

I've found myself in a little pickle, and I need some thoughts from people who are not involved. If you'd like to read and answer the ending poll, please read more. Poll at the end.

Necessary backstory part 1: When I first met my brother in law (BIL), my husband referred to him as an 'asshole'. BIL was raised in a family with very 1950's thoughts of how women are supposed to be, drank all that kool-aide, and got a huge dose of 'I get everything I ask for' on top of it.

In the years I've known BIL, I've found my husband's initial description to be apt. Always needs the best stuff, saves no money at all, bounces between jobs, gets everything he wants but never seems to be happy. Took up drinking about ten years ago and never looked back. Haven't had a sober interaction with him in years.

Necessary backstory part 2: Every year, my in-laws do a big family reunion at the end of December. Plan it a year in advance. Put down a deposit on a large party room. This year, in early-ish December, BIL texts and says he got the greatest tickets ever to go to Mexico - super cheap flight and resort stay. Only the plane leaves the day before the big family get-together... so can we move it?? Everyone reorganize their schedules instead of him just not come?

And... yes. Apparently my mother in law bent over backwards to move this family reunion for him. Everybody lost our non-refundable deposits. Had to do the reunion at my mother in law's tiny little house. Had to listen to my husband complain for a week about the whole thing.

Necessary backstory part 3: BIL was married and had two kids (currently 18 and 21), then divorced and found this new girlfriend and had two more kids (4 and 6) with her. When he got these tickets, he had framed it as a 'family vacation' and said 'the kids were going to have a blast'. Apparently when he said 'family' he meant him, his girlfriend, and his two newer kids. Not his older kids, who had thought they'd be invited as well, only to find out they don't apparently count as family anymore.

So we're walking into this reunion with feels, right? And lots of people are walking into this reunion with FEELS. Tense would be a good word for it. Ready to punch BIL into oblivion if he says the wrong thing would be another way to describe it.

SO. Story time.

Holiday gifts are being exchanged. We get BIL and family a gift card for a dinner out, and get nothing in return (as usual). Towards the end, BIL pulls out his wallet and grabs a bunch of money. Calls his two older kids over and hands them each a hundred dollars. That's it. That's their entire holiday present. Then he calls over (most) of the rest of his nieces and nephews and hands them each fifty dollars. My son gets skipped.

Normally, I'd call him out on it, because he's drunk and probably forgot my son (who was quietly playing with his new Lego set in the corner) even existed. But the atmosphere was tense and I was definitely on the side of just let it go. It'd take more than $50 to stick my hand in that hornet's nest.

Nobody really noticed. My daughter did, even offered to split hers with him, but I shook that idea off and just gave her a hug for being awesome. Repeat the phrase I've said plenty: gifts are given, not demanded to be received. BIL is under no obligation to give everyone a gift - even if he's an asshole for skipping just one kid, it's his choice.

Party goes without too much of a hitch, but everyone is definitely happier when BIL leaves early to go to a different party. (although the amount of bitching about how we had to move the whole thing and he left early?? was just insane to listen to)

Afterward the party is over and we head home, daughter goes shopping with part of her money (donated some to the food shelf near our house, saved the rest) and gets some doll thing she's been wanting. Son picks out a dinosaur that roars when you squeeze it. (They ended up with a significant sum of money from several relatives.)

We go home, write thank you cards. (yes, I'm old fashioned. If you get money or a gift in the mail, you send a thank you card.) Daughter writes out her cards (she had five to send), son does his four (same four, then not one to BIL). Thank you cards are getting too expensive to send for not getting a gift. Mail them off, think nothing of it, move on.

About a week later, I get a text from mother in law asking when my son's thank you card to BIL would arrive. I reply back that he's not getting one. If one does not give a gift, one does not get a thank-you card.

CUE DRAMA. OMG levels of drama. BIL was too drunk to remember what happened, and thinks he gave my son some money, and refuses to be talked out of it. Thinks that if he really missed someone, he would've been told at the time. He's dug himself a deeeeeep hole and nobody's going to be able to get him out of it.

Current situation, which is now almost six weeks of this insanity: My daughter's birthday is coming up, and BIL is threatening not to come and bring a gift if we don't send him a thank you card from my son. My instinct was to respond 'you were not invited; I don't want your drunk ass in my house ever again', but thought better of that before I clicked 'send'.

MIL is on BIL's side, thinks I should just send the thank you card and keep the peace, that it's just a silly little card and it doesn't mean anything. Husband is on my side, thinking BIL is throwing a man-child sized fit my three-year-old is old enough to know not to do.

Nobody's arguing that I'm in the wrong here, btw (other than BIL). I'm not the asshole in this situation. Nobody thinks I am.

HOWEVER. Sometimes you can stand on the moral high-ground of one battlefield and watch the war fall apart around you. Makes you wonder what's the bigger goal? I'm not 'fixing' my BIL with this. I'm not making a dent in the toxic hell-hole of a FOX-riddled black hole he calls a brain.

So now I have to make a choice - a bigger choice than just the stupid $2 thank you card. And here's where I need your thoughts.

Option 1: send the stupid thank you card. I'll likely hear about this later when he tries to lord his 'win' over me, but it'll stop the family rift. My children will not have to be in the middle of an almost-50-year-old throwing a tantrum any two-year-old would watch in amazement. Even though I and my husband would be willing (and happy) to never see BIL again, it's harder to unilaterally cut that tie from my children's lives. They deserve to get to know their family, and understand their family - the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Option 2: send an essentially blank thank you card. He'll get his card, but I am not sinking down to actually thanking him for anything. 50/50 on whether this would solve anything or make it worse, though. Would simply depend on his mental state when he gets it.

Option 3: hold onto my moral high ground, disinvite him from a party he wasn't invited to anyways, and wait for the chaos or for BIL to forget about it. This could possibly be the stake that drives BIL away (not sad at that thought). My worry is that where BIL goes, my children's nana will go as well. And the ultimate worry would be that we (me, my husband, and our kids) stop getting invited to family functions, since MIL coordinates most of them and she has zero backbone when it comes to BIL. It's a not-unreal possibility that this could cut a good portion of my husband's family out of my children's lives for some time (and most of the rest are wonderful people). And even if the worst was not to happen, this'll be a constant source of stress and strain on everyone.

So I'm... not sure really what to do. My family thinks I should hold my ground because morals are more important than having a relationship with a drunk asshole - and that there are more relatives to fill the hole. (all true) My in laws think I should just send the card because I'm not 'winning' anything here and I should look at the bigger picture. (also true) One even offered to purchase, fill out, and mail the damned thing for me.

I just... I dunno. This is just stupid. So, so, very, very stupid. Stupid enough it makes me want to cut BIL out of my life just because I don't want the anxiety surrounding this any more.

I'm trapped in a stupid, bizarre situation and I'm to the point where the thoughts of random internet people I do not know apparently mean something to me.

tl/dr: My asshole of a brother in law forgot to give one of my kids a gift, and is now causing major family drama by demanding a thank you card.

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kazewhara · 2 years

Note

I got you zuzu, thoma and mistletoe 👀 that I feel would be the purest thing ever with him

gotta honor tradition.

❄ winter prompts ❄

# — pairing: thoma x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, thoma, ayaka, ayato

# — summary: don't just stand there; you know what to do!

# — warnings: n/a

# — tags: modern au, fluff galore, best friends to lovers, christmas parties with the kamisatos and thoma

# — notes: I'M SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS YOU HAVE NO IDEA, I GOT MY CHRISTMAS PLAYLIST AND EVERYTHING FKHSJDBD anyways, as always, reblogs and reactions are always, always appreciated and enjoyed, and i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

wanna join the tag list?

✧ — 🌹 — ✧

"ayaka, will you please tell your brother that he's singing the song wrong?" you sigh exasperatedly. you've been arguing with ayato for the past fifteen minutes about the lyrics of one of your christmas songs. "i keep telling you, it's 'you can plan on me', not 'count on me'! look it up!"

ayato, the absolute madman, just shakes his head. he's always been as stubborn as a mule ever since you were kids, but even to this day, you sometimes want to kick his shins to get him to back down. "i'm just gonna keep singing it the way i know it." he laughs when you groan in defeat.

thoma walks into the living room with a plate of gingerbread cookies in hand. as he passes by, he pats your back. "i dunno why you insist on arguing with him," he chuckles. "it ends like this every time."

"you know he just likes to get a rise out of you," ayaka giggles as she picks a cookie off of thoma's plate.

as frustrating as the past fifteen minutes have been, you can't deny that you've been having the time of your life tonight. the four of you have spent every christmas eve together since you were children; back then, your parents would hold a christmas party and have everyone exchange gifts at midnight on the dot. when you got older, you decided to keep up the tradition, inviting your closest friends to your apartment to indulge in even the cheesiest of christmas traditions; from gingerbread cookie baking to bellowing off-key christmas carols at the top of your lungs, you, ayaka, ayato, and thoma never missed a chance to spend time with each other on christmas. everything was perfect every year.

well... almost everything.

there's one christmas tradition that you've come to dread over the years: mistletoe hanging. it made sense when you were a kid, considering your parents, ayaka and ayato's parents, and thoma's parents would never miss an opportunity to kiss each other every time they passed beneath it at the same time. now, without them here, you guys just did it for decoration.

it's not christmas without it! was ayaka's argument; you thought it reasonable until about four years ago.

because on christmas eve four years ago, you realized you were in love with thoma.

you thought it romantic at the time; the two of you had stepped outside to escape your drunk parents and it began to snow. you still remember the way your breath hitched when you saw the snowflakes sticking to thoma's hair and eyelashes; the way he grinned and challenged you to a snowball fight when morning came. you agreed silently, too dazed by your realization to speak. ever since then, christmas has become increasingly difficult to endure.

it was stupid, really. you had no reason to be so beat up about it -- it's not like thoma was going to kiss anyone during your parties, but every year, the desire to embrace tradition (and satisfy your biggest desire) with your best friend has grown to the point where it was almost unbearable.

but, when you look over and see him playfully chastising a smug ayato for harassing you, you resign yourself to your reality. it'd be nice to kiss him -- it'd make christmas perfect -- but this wasn't so bad either. you'll just have to celebrate another year of desperately pining after your best friend on new years'; no big deal.

you slump on the couch after taking a cookie from thoma's plate and take a bite. "for the record, ayato," you say once you've finished your mouthful, "i'm giving you a lump of shit for christmas."

ayaka tilts her head curiously at you, her shoulders shaking with poorly restrained laughter. "don't you mean coal?"

"i said what i said."

the couch dips beside you and you feel an arm drape across your shoulders. it's thoma; your heart kicks up a familiar unsteady rhythm when you notice that he smells like freshly baked cookies. you sigh and lean back against his arm. you're allowed this much, at least. "now, now," thoma chuckles, "it's christmas! you're supposed to play nice."

"i am being nice." you retort. "at least he's getting something."

thoma pinches your nose and makes a noise of disapproval. "you know what i mean, you brat." he laughs when you swat him off, grumbling under your breath about giving him the same thing. "aw, you wouldn't do that to me, would you? me? your best friend?"

for some reason, that makes you grimace internally. you hope it doesn't show on your face. you play it off with a roll of your eyes. "i'm weighing my options."

the rest of the night goes smoothly as it always does, with ayaka excitedly keeping track of the time every hour. you stand shoulder to shoulder with thoma in the kitchen at around 11:50, helping him wash the dishes while ayaka and ayato watch shitty christmas movie re-runs.

you consider yourself to be pretty lucky. most people in your position would have tapped out by now; being in such close quarters with a childhood friend that they harbor such strong feelings for is enough to break the spirit of even the strongest individual. and yet here you stood, speaking in hushed tones with the man of your dreams about old christmas memories.

"oh, i got one." thoma snickers. "do you remember when you tried to get up from making a snow angel and you fell face first into the snow fort ayaka built?"

you feel heat creep up to your cheeks. you remember that day vividly. it was four years ago; the day you'd fallen in love with thoma. you hope he thinks you're embarrassed because of the snow and not something else. "god, don't remind me." you moan quietly. "i had the worst cold after that."

thoma laughs anyways, mirth dancing in his emerald eyes as he puts a plate in the dish rack. "your mom made me take care of you for two days after that, remember?" he visibly softens, and you have to force yourself not to stare. you can't make heads or tails of his expression. "you're so annoying when you're sick." he flicks some suds at you.

you gasp dramatically. "you know what, just for that, i don't feel bad that you caught a cold right after me." thoma flicks some more soap at you and you bump his hip with yours, relishing in his amused chuckles.

it hurts. it hurts like hell to be so close, yet so far from what you want. but if being like this means you can keep thoma smiling at you like this, then you're willing to settle for anything.

your smile falters suddenly. you're probably being too blasé about your emotional well-being. ayaka would have slapped you upside the head by now, but you can't help it. what good would come from agonizing over your feelings every day?

thoma breaks you out of your reverie with a nudge of his elbow. his smile is gone and his brows are drawn. concern ripples in his eyes. "hey, you got quiet. you okay?" he asks.

shit, quick, think of something!

"yeah, just... miss my parents." you half-lie. you dry your hands and smile bitterly at the mistletoe that's hung on the entryway to the kitchen. you remember trying to push past your kissing parents just to get some egg nog one year. you wrinkle your nose. "on second thought, never mind. they're gross."

thoma follows your gaze to the mistletoe with a thoughtful hum. "gross, huh." he sounds almost... disappointed?

not liking his change in mood, you walk beneath the mistletoe. "they were! they would always take up all the space, remember?" you stretch your arm out and snort at how narrow the entryway is. it's enough to fit two people, but there's certainly not enough room for a third person to squeeze through; much like your childhood home. "ugh, and they wouldn't even budge if you asked them nicely."

you glance up at the mistletoe longingly. "then again," you sigh, "i guess it must've been nice for them." you're not being sarcastic; they must have enjoyed every memory made beneath that tree, even if some of them were made by annoying you and your friends.

"you think so?" thoma's voice suddenly comes from in front of you, making you jump. when did he get here? he doesn't laugh at your shock; he's just... staring at you. again with that unreadable look in his eyes.

"what?"

"you think, uh.." thoma looks away from you then, and you think you see his cheeks turning pink. "you think they enjoyed the whole mistletoe thing?"

"uh, yeah?" you chuckle awkwardly. "parents will be parents, y'know?"

"yeah."

you fight the urge to make a pained noise. why was this so awkward all of a sudden? you turn to face the living room and lean on the threshold with your arms folded. it was barely past midnight and already, both ayaka and ayato were fast asleep, the two of them curled in on each other. they were always like that as kids; it's nice to see that nothing's changed. you huff an endeared laugh when thoma speaks again.

"you know how kids would mimic their parents?" he says. you turn to look at him and he's mimicing your position, his shoulder pressed against the threshold. he's not looking at you. "like... they'd play dress-up, wear makeup, or play house?"

you frown, completely thrown by the question. "yeah..? why do you ask?"

thoma's shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath before he turns to face you, uncharacteristically serious. "have you ever thought about mimicking your parents on christmas?"

you tilt your head. "you mean, like, the cookie thing?" you hum, bemused. "we already did that, though..." your eyes widen. "wait, you're not gonna ask me to dress up like santa, are you? 'cause i'm not gonna do it."

thoma blinks at you a few times before he barks out a laugh. "no, that's not--" he snorts. "as funny as that would be, i... no, that's not what i mean." he steps closer to you, crowding your space.

the unsteady in your chest returns with a vengeance. there's really nowhere you can run; not unless you shimmy to the side and escape to the living room. you know that you can move, but you don't. you can't -- your feet won't obey you. "uh," you say intelligently, "wh-what's this about then?"

your best friend's eyes drop to your lips for a split second and already, you feel your knees start to wobble. thoma doesn't say anything; he's waiting for you to pick up on what he's trying to do. normally, you'd understand right away, but your thoughts are too busy catching fire for you to make sense of what's happening.

he wouldn't be trying to... kiss you, would he? no, of course not. you mentally slap yourself for thinking something so absurd. then again, something tells you, it's not out of the realm of possibility. you internally scoff; just because he can doesn't mesn he would.

your internal conflict must show on your face, because thoma gives you a crooked grin. "you're thinking too hard." he presses his thumb in the space between your eyebrows, smoothing out the wrinkles. "you're cute."

you actually sputter out loud. "i-i'm sorry?"

thoma sighs long-sufferingly. "are you really that dense, or are you just pretending not to know?" when you show no sign of comprehension, your best friend takes your face in his hands. you know he can probably feel how hot your cheeks are, and that only serves to make them burn more. "did you forget what we're standing under?" he asks.

"what?" you're so out of it that you legitimately have no idea what to think. thoma tilts your head upwards and your eyes blow wide when you see the mistletoe. you two have been standing under it this entire time. when thoma brings your face back down, you force yourself to look anywhere but him. "what's your point?"

all of a sudden, it clicks. you don't need thoma to tell you.

mimicking your parents on christmas...

"thoma, i--" you finally look at him, but you're silenced by the look of apprehension he's giving you. he looks so discouraged; did you do that? "don't look at me like that, i just-- this is--"

"did i... make a mistake?" thoma asks softly. he sounds broken by the idea of you rejecting him, but in true thoma fashion, cleans up his mess with a charming smile. "i'm sorry, i must've read the atmosphere wrong, then."

before he can let go of your face, you finally -- finally -- find the words to say.

"i love you."

... that's not exactly what you had in mind, but it'll do.

thoma's eyes are like saucers. "you what?" something akin to hope is trying to cling to his features, but he's not letting it. "say that again?"

you squeeze your eyes shut, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes anymore. you're already past the point of no return -- might as well keep going. "i said, i'm in love with you." you sigh. it feels like a weight has been lifted as soon as the words are out your mouth. you care more about the relief than you do about the potential repercussions; you can deal with that later. "i have been for four years, thoma."

you can't see him, but you can hear him. he lets out a short, incredulous laugh. "four years? that's it?"

"yes, i know, that's really stupid, and i-- wait." your eyes fly open. "what did you just say?"

you suddenly feel like you should close your eyes again. thoma's eyes are practically shining as they drink every bit of you in; you've seen your mother look at your father like this before. you have to remind yourself to breathe. "looks like i really am better than you," he chuckles warmly. "i've loved you for, what, ten years now?" his thumbs brush over your cheeks. "and you've only loved me for four. you're hurting my feelings."

you're amazed that you haven't passed out yet. your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water for a moment before you jab him in the chest lightly. "you just had to make it into a competition, didn't you?"

thoma pouts at you. "you're gonna hurt more than my feelings at this rate."

"oh, fuck you. i almost died just now because of you; go to hell."

"well, you can't die before i kiss you. that's just rude."

even though you know full well why you couldn't have confessed earlier, you beat yourself up for not doing it sooner. you and thoma fit so perfectly together that once the initial shock has worn off, you two have fallen right back into your usual routine. he's your person, after all. he always has been, ever since grade school.

"so, are you just gonna stand here or are we just gonna dishonor the mistletoe tradition?" you tease. you whine when thoma squeezes your cheek.

"i was trying to embrace tradition but somebody scared the shit out of me."

you grab his shirt and tug him closer, emboldened by your feelings. "still too scared to do it?" you whisper.

thoma's grin is borderline wolfish. his hands drop to your waist and he pulls you flush against his body. "maybe. gimme some time to think about it."

you scoff and lean in to kiss him, but he meets you halfway, your lips melding together perfectly. your first kiss is nothing short of adoring, with thoma moving his lips against yours so softly that you almost feel like you're going to cry. you've never wanted something -- someone -- so badly in your life. now that you have him, you almost don't know what to do with yourself. you move your hands to hold his face, swallowing down the affectionate noise he makes against your lips.

a thought occurs to you, and you break the kiss with a giggle. "oh, c'mon, you can't be laughing at me now." he says breathlessly.

you can't stop your giggles. "no, no, it's not that."

"then can i kiss you again?"

you roll your eyes at his eagerness. "remember what time it is?"

"not gonna lie, i don't really care."

"thoma, you ass, stop ruining this. i'm trying to be cute."

"you're always cute, though."

"i will punch you."

thoma sighs impatiently. "alright, alright." he glances at the clock on the kitchen stove. "uh, 12:15. why're you asking?"

you give up and kiss thoma briefly again, chuckling when he murmurs "finally" against your lips. "you're so annoying." you tease. "it's christmas, idiot."

thoma, ever the wise guy, pulls back and gazes at you with so much love, you can practically feel it encircling you. "were you trying to say that i'm your christmas present?"

"i was, but you ruined it."

thoma leans in to press his forehead against yours. "i'll say it for you then." he pecks your lips. "you're the best christmas present i've ever received. santa really outdid himself this year. you think if i'm good enough, i can get another you?"

you laugh. "merry christmas, thoma, you fucking dork."

"merry christmas, love."

✧ screaming. crying. throwing up. i want thoma so bad just drown me already.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin thoma #thoma x reader #z scribbles #IM SO HAPPYMFJEKDN

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

Text

Demigod MC Series: Dionysus

Hey y’all, sorry for going dark! I’m alright, almost completely recovered in fact! I just got so sleepy while my body was fighting stuff off and couldn’t really work up the energy to write... Still going to be spotty for a short time, but I’m glad to have gotten this done. See ya soon!

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus

Lucifer

Well, this mortal stumbled out of the portal covered in glitter, body paint, and carrying a red solo cup… which they proceeded to stare at like, "'ell sshhit… Thiz iz sum stron s'uff…"

First impressions were not on their side here.

He spent a depressingly long amount of time more or less assuming that the MC was a drunken f-up and spent the first few months trying to make them more… presentable.

But like… How do you stop someone from acting like a drunk fool when they can turn any drink they touch alcoholic???

For months they would show up to meetings buzzed or stumbling, all smiles and all giggles but HORRIBLY unprofessional, and he just couldn't stand it!

But then he found out their little secret…

Assassination threats befall the exchange students all the time. Most of them are dealt with quickly but some (through skill or dumb luck) manage to slip through...

He had been walking with the MC through their new vineyard in the House's courtyard, yet again trying to lecture them about their drunken behavior, when suddenly the two were ambushed!

Ten or so heavily armored demons dropped down from the sky to attack them! Lucifer was so preoccupied that he got cornered by three of them and it took him a hot minute to destroy them.

When he looked back at the mortal (who had been fighting a 1-on-7) he was certain they'd have been kidnapped or worse…

But he saw that they had already cut down two attackers with their weapon with ease. The other five were rolling in the dirt, babbling about inexplicable terrors and imaginary pain as their minds succumbed to madness…

Meanwhile, the MC just stood in the middle of it all with the icy glare of someone who’s just revealed how stone-cold sober they've always been under the surface...

When they turned back to him, they put their usual ditzy smile back on over the tormented wails of the demons around them...

MC: Whoopsie… Gotta little mad there. 🙂

He uh… took a big ol'step off their back after that. Surprisingly, they're more pleasant (and less dangerous) "drunk" than they are sober…

Mammon

Oh HELL yeah!! Lucifer actually gave him a mortal that knows how to party!!

Admittedly, they looked like utter trash when they first met, like, "Hey, I've been at this party since DAWN" trash, but they gave him one good look and pulled together a surprisingly hot smile.

MC: "-ey yer cute… Ya like strip poker?"

Spoken like someone else who also makes shit decisions… They were going to get along just fine!

And they did. The MC to him was that one friend that's always down for anything. Just anything. Whenever. Wherever.

He wants to try sneaking into Lucifer's room to steal stuff? Sure, what time?

He wants to take a mattress and see if he can ride it down the grand staircase of the palace? Alright, we bringin' pillows too?

He needs to set up another scheme that's gotta involve live rats and box of tiny hats and monocles?? That's oddly specific but count them in!!

Sometimes he honestly can't tell if they're laid back or just crave chaos... but it works out fine for him either way so who cares? 🤷‍♀️

And if you think normal Mammon is a pain in the ass for Lucifer? Check out drunk Mammon. All the same urges but literally none of the (marginal) competence!!

At one point, the eldest ended up stringing both Mammon and the MC from the ceiling after they both barged into his office looking for Goldie… while he was still in there… watching them wander around aimlessly calling out for a piece of plastic like it was a missing puppy…

They end up together on the ceiling a lot come to think of it, but hey, at least now he has some company. 😌

Leviathan

Thinks they're the most normal normie to have ever normed on this normie planet!!!

No, seriously. They're a billion times worse than Asmo!! All they want to do is go to parties and drink all the time! What kind of use is he to someone like that??

… That being said they ARE pretty fun to be around… And their sake is WAY better than anything he could get off Akuzon!!

They also like karaoke too! So at least he has someone else to go with (even if they get so drunk they can’t remember any lyrics and just belt barely coherent discount Mariah Carey vocals behind him...)

Of course, the real fun between these two is everybody else getting to watch a couple of the Devildom's sloppiest drunks attempt to communicate with each other…

Levi: MMM-*hic*-MCCC…!!! *throws himself at them from across the bar*

MC: What Leviachan??? 😨 Did the chair kick you off?!

Levi: Nooo! *pokes their cheek* I wanna-I wanna tell you sometin'...! *tries pulling them closer*

MC: Whaa? Secrets?? *leans in eagerly*

Levi: Mammon used all ma money on’a pyramid scheme a thou-zand years ago… AND HE STILL WON'T PAY ME BAAA-!!! 😭😭 *starts shaking them violently*

MC: *getting flung around like a limp noodle* Waaaat?! Nooo!!! I'm so sowwy!! 😢

Mammon: *watching it all go down right next to him* 😑 Ya guys need some water… I'm cuttin' ya off, got it?

MC: 😱 Shut yer whore mouth, criminal!! *starts pelting him with pretzel bites*

Levi: 😤 Yah!! *joins in*

Good thing he's a shut-in, because the hangovers he gets after those escapades are unreal…

Satan

A little concerned for their liver, honestly… How much damage have they already done to the poor thing...?

But at the same time, he'll be damned if they don't make some utterly fantastic wine!

Alcokinesis wasn't a power he would have pegged a demigod to have but apparently the great art of making drinks comes from their godly DNA.

When they first met, he was trying to get the MC to act less slovenly but made the mistake of agreeing to a wager: he'd let them dress however they pleased if they could give him the BEST drink he'd ever tasted.

Now, Satan isn't a huge drinker (thank you terrible alcohol tolerance), but he's still a man of fine tastes. Plus, he's sampled Demonus from Diavolo royal stock before. They should not have won…

But on that day, he had to let them go to RAD in a pink blanket toga... 😑 Their wine is just THAT good.

He hates to admit it, but they've gotten him drunk more times than he could probably count too… He's not a huge fan of clubbing with them and the others, but if they bring over a bottle from their vineyard he just can't resist. They're a master of their craft, truly.

And it's a good thing he likes their drinks so much, because if they called him, "Kitty-boy," when he's sober, he may have just become a sour grape himself…

They also may or may not have copious amounts of blackmail material of him either meowing between sentences, sobbing over some fictional character he likes, pole dancing on dares….

Yeah, he's been trying to destroy their phone for months now. If Lucifer were to see ANY of that, he's done for… 😣

He has also been meaning to ask them about other aspects of their abilities, their father is also the God of Madness after all, but anytime he tries to bring it up they shove another glass in his hand and tell him not to kill the mood...

Eh. What's the harm in having another drink, right? 🤷‍♀️

Asmodeus

Honey. He's MET Dionysus. He's been to a Dio-party or two and they're INSANE. He could not be more thrilled by this!!!

He practically scooped them up on the first night that they were in the House and it’s practically been a nonstop rave between these two ever since. They’re like the party twin he never knew he needed!!

He absolutely abuses their ability to turn pretty much any drink they touch into alcohol at clubs. It makes the nights so much easier on the wallet PLUS it makes an excellent little party trick to impress the succubi! Who doesn’t want a free drink? 😏

And can he just say that their drinks are better? Just flat out amazing! If it weren’t so unhealthy he’d consider drinking nothing but their booze and wine for the rest of his days, Satan’s certainly getting close to it.

But little does Satan know, he’s not even getting the GOOD stuff...

There’s the normal wine: grapes picked from the vineyard, hand squeezed, then magically helped through the fermenting process. But their real good stuff? They were given enchanted oak barrels from their father and anything that comes out of those is worth starting a WAR over. 😩

He knows, because he gifted an extra bottle to Diavolo once and Barbs came to him the very next day demanding to know what vineyard had produced it with the look of man willing to annex a small nation...

Asmo had to beg Lucifer to talk to Diavolo after the butler more or less kidnapped the MC back to the Castle… Devil knows even Barbs wouldn’t ever be able to reproduce their wine, so they could have been locked there for eternity!!

Thankfully, he got his party-buddy back and their debauchery continued! (Just now with Barbatos following them around sometimes like he’s trying to gather state secrets... It’s an impossible task but he hasn’t given up yet, bless his black heart.)

Beelzebub

He isn't much bothered by their carefree nature, at least they seem to be having fun with his family which he appreciates. 🙂

To be honest, though, he nearly ate them when they first met because they smell like freshly peeled grapes… and for good reason.

By their third day at the House they had (somehow) planted and cultivated a full on vineyard in the courtyard. Hell, the wall growing to their bedroom balcony was covered in grapevines!! Always ripe and completely healthy in defiance of the lack of sun... Whatever magic they used was strong.

And, of course, their grapes were also delicious! Easily among the best fruits he's ever tasted! Every cluster is ridiculously plump, juicy, and sweet like little droplets of pure Heaven… 🤤

When their fruit first ripened, the MC came out with a basket to collect some only to find Beel had gouged himself on over half of their crop!!!

… which may have been why he got snared up on one of the courtyard walls by pissed off grapevines... Even with all his strength, he couldn't break through them and had to wait for Lucifer to cut him down… 😔

From then on, Beel was pretty much the pesky rabbit to the MC's harvest. They had to set up traps and magical barriers to keep him from their precious grapes…!! Which inevitably meant one of his brothers had to come rescue him from their furious vines at least once a week... 🙄

SOMETIMES, the MC will bring him along to help harvest with them with the deal that he can have an extra basket for however many he helps them pick. But the second he takes a bite he shouldn't, it’s back on the wall!

Out of the vineyard, they're nice enough. But put some grapes between these two and they're mortal enemies… STOP messing with their plants, Beel!! 😤

Belphegor

So… this drunken fool is supposed to get him out of the attic? Never mind, this is never going to work…

He was SEVERELY underwhelmed when the "human" finally made it up the steps. This was who they decided to bring for their exchange program? They seemed like they could barely stand!

Naturally, he figured all the better for him. They probably wouldn't even last that long!

Some poor, incompetent human falling victim to a demon out there? Diavolo's reputation would in tatters and he wouldn't even have to lift a finger! (His favorite way of doing things really 😌).

But… they just kept coming back? Like. Nothing was killing them….! How guarded were they keeping this moron??

Or… maybe it was something else?

Sure, the MC seemed like a drunken idiot but there were times when he'd swear that they were just… too aware to be sloshed…

MC: *suddenly stops smiling at him mid-conversation and looks him in the eye* You tilt your head when you lie. You know that?

How can someone so cheerful ALSO be so unnerving…?

So really, he should have seen their sudden heel-turn after they opened the door coming. There he was, fully intending to take them by surprise and choke them after a hug…

...and they knocked him down, climbed onto his back like a spider monkey, and rode him around like a bucking bull using his horns like handlebars!!

It wouldn’t have been AS humiliating if they didn’t also keep shouting things like "Giddiyap!" And "Yee-haw!!"

It took him a whole month to be sure that any and all footage of that nightmare was erased and he STILL hates the MC quite a bit for it…. But he's too scared to attack them now, so…

The lesson here? It's not a fair fight when one side’s crazy... 😔😒

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demigods

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tobesolonely · 3 years

Text

it’s not christmas ‘til you come home

a/n: hello!! please enjoy this piece from my dad!harry universe! (u dont have to read any of them for it to make sense, but it would be cool if u did! loosely based on it’s not christmas ‘til you come home by norah jones <3 hope you enjoy! thank u to @harryysstyless for beta reading for me!! happy holidays everyone :)

warnings: SMUT, a bit of angst <3 word count: ~5.1k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

December 23rd, 2:00 PM

For as long as you and Harry have been in a relationship, you’ve never not spent a Christmas together.

Before expanding your family, you and he used to hop from party to party every Christmas Eve. Both of you would be absolutely trashed by the time Harry’s driver would drop you off at his house in the early hours of the morning. You’d sleep in until approximately noon, willing your hangovers to go away before finally making it down the stairs and into the kitchen to prepare two steaming cups of coffee. The two of you would then make your way into the living room and exchange gifts (where Harry always went way over the budget you’d set).

Once you had your first child, Allison, your yearly tradition of party hopping and getting so drunk you could hardly put one foot in front of the other was no more. Instead, you and Harry opted for calm nights in, watching Christmas movies and drinking hot cocoa until she eventually grew tired and got carried up to bed. You would wait an hour or so before springing into action, playing Santa and setting out all of the gifts she asked for and then some. Harry never forgot to take a big bite out of the cookie and carrot left out for Santa and his reindeer.

This tradition stayed the same once your second baby, Oliver, was born. Even though he was too young to know what was going on, Harry was still excited to spoil him rotten this year as it was his first Christmas. However, given the current state of the world, you were afraid Harry would not be here for the first time ever.

“Mumma, when’s daddy coming home?” your six-year-old, Ally, asked for what had to be the seventh time that afternoon. “I made him a drawing for his gift ‘nd I can’t wait for him to see it!”

“Let me see what you drew for Daddy, love bug,” you say cheerily, purposefully glossing over her question. Ally proudly holds her drawing up next to her face. She looks up at you with wide eyes, awaiting a compliment from you.

“That’s gorgeous, bug! Daddy’s gonna love it,” you inform her. “Maybe you can stick a lil’ bow on it and set it under the tree for him, hmm?”

“Good idea, Mumma!” Ally runs to the box where you kept all the supplies for gift wrapping, digging around for a pink bow to stick on the corner of her drawing.

While she’s preoccupied with finding the perfect bow to place on her drawing for Harry, you take a quick glance at your phone. He still hadn’t gotten back to you since last night’s quick conversation when he very briefly mentioned he didn’t know if he’d be able to make it home.

He was filming in Los Angeles. You shared your uncertainties about him going before he departed but in the end, this was an opportunity you didn’t want him to miss out on. You read the Los Angeles Times free articles on your phone daily, keeping track of the state of the pandemic in Southern California. You knew it was much worse there than it was at home in London. You feared what you were afraid of was sadly bound to happen— Harry may get stuck in LA.

You didn’t want to say anything to your curious daughter because communication with him had been so sparse. You didn’t know anything for certain yet. But what were you supposed to think? You knew flying nationally wasn’t a good idea at the moment, never mind internationally.

“Hey bug, d’ya think you can watch your brother for a moment? Mumma’s gotta go make a phone call.”

You hear your daughter let out a slightly irritated sigh. “I suppose I can, Mumma.” Ally responds with a voice laced with exasperation. You chuckle slightly under your breath at your overly dramatic (much like her dad) six-year-old and head into the kitchen, quickly dialing your husband’s familiar number.

“Hello?”

You let out a sigh of relief upon hearing Harry’s low, hoarse voice.

“Hi, honey. Just checkin’ in to see how things are going…” you hear shuffling on his end. “It’s December 23rd, you know.”

“I know, love.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Six in tha’ mornin’ here.”

“I’m sorry, H. S’just Allison keeps on askin’ when you’ll be home and ‘m just so worried you won’t make it home on time and you’ll miss Oliver’s first Christmas—“

“Darling,” Harry interrupts your anxiety-fueled ramble. “‘M gonna make it home. Have I ever not been there when I said I would?”

“No,” you say quietly. “I’m just worried, Harry. I hear traveling is going to get very strict because they’re trying to prevent people from going anywhere for Christmas…”

“Fine, then I’ll get my own plane with jus’ me and a pilot. Wear a mask the entire time and whatnot. Yanno I can make that happen if it’s necessary, pet.”

Harry’s calm demeanor about the whole situation brings you a bit of peace. Perhaps you were catastrophizing something that wasn’t as big of a deal as you thought it was a mere two minutes ago. If he wasn’t worried about not making it home, you didn’t see any reason to stress about it— not for one second longer.

“Okay then,” you reply, still a bit wary of his travel plans. “What shall I tell your daughter? She’s drivin’ me up the walls asking where you are every twenty minutes.”

Your husband lets out a breathy laugh, causing you to giggle along with him. “Tell her not to eat up all the Christmas cookies before I get a taste of one.”

December 24th, 8:45 AM

Part of you was hoping you’d wake up on Christmas Eve and Harry would be tucked into bed next to you, plump lips parted, the sound of his snores the only noise in the room. However, you were a rational woman, if nothing else. You knew he wouldn’t be by your side when you woke up.

You make your way down the hall and peek inside your son’s room. He was fast asleep, plump thumb in his mouth. You smile at your sleeping baby and gently close the door behind you, deciding to let him sleep in a bit longer before waking him up to feed him.

Next, you walk to your daughter's room, gently pushing open the door in case she was still sleeping. Instead, you find her sat at her desk, deeply focused on what appeared to be another drawing.

“Good morning, lovebug,” you greet your daughter in a sing-songy voice. “You’re up early. What are you working on?”

“Makin’ a letter for Santa,” she replies, not bothering to look up from what she was doing.

“A letter for Santa?” You start racking your brain for anything you and Harry could’ve possibly forgotten to get for Ally, but you finished your Christmas shopping for your children way back in November.

“Yes,” she answers matter-of-factly. “‘M askin’ him to make sure my Daddy is home by tonight so we can eat cookies together and watch Toy Story, Mumma.”

“I’m sure Santa will make that happen for you,” you reassure her. “You’ve been a very good girl this year, been so helpful with Olly and doin’ so well in school. The least Santa can do is get you whatever you want.” You see her smile as she digs around in her crayon box.

“Can we wait ‘til Daddy gets home to make Santa’s cookies, Mumma?”

“Sure we can, bug,” Ally claps her hands together excitedly, bouncing around in her tiny chair. “Gonna go make some pancakes, does that sound yummy?”

“Can we have chocolate chip pancakes please?”

“Are you askin’ me that because your dad isn’t here to throw a fit about it?” You give her a knowing smile, causing her to giggle.

“Maaaaybe…” Your daughter turns to face you, swinging her legs back and forth.

“If I make your chocolate chip pancakes, you can’t tell your dad. Deal?” You hold up your pinky. Ally gets up and runs to you and you bend down slightly so she can link her finger with yours.

“I pinky promise, Mumma!”

“Our little secret, yeah?” she nods. “Keep an ear out for your brother for me, bug. I’ll be downstairs.”

December 24th, 3:00 PM

“Love? ‘M afraid I got some bad news...”

As soon as Harry’s voice comes through on the other line, you can tell whatever news he’s about to share with you won’t be what you’re wanting to hear.

“What is it?”

It’s silent for what feels like entirely too long. You get up from your position on the couch next to Ally, telling her you’ll be right back. After breakfast, she convinced you to watch Toy Story with her, which quickly turned into a whole Disney movie marathon.

“Not so sure I’ll be able to make it home.”

You’re not sure if it’s his calm tone that bothers you, the fact that you didn’t want him to go to Los Angeles in the first place, or simply the fact that you and your children missed him terribly and haven’t seen him in nearly a month–– but your mood changes from relaxed to undeniably outraged in three seconds flat.

“You’re kidding.” Your tone is sharp, venomous. Harry once again takes a moment before responding, knowing that the current tone of your voice means he’d best proceed with caution.

“‘M not, love. I woke up early and everything to try and get this sorted out, it’s 7 AM so I was gonna try and catch an early flight––”

“I told you I didn’t want you going to LA,” you cut him off, voice rising slightly. “You knew how bad the pandemic was getting there. I told you this would happen.”

“What do you suppose I do then, Y/N?” His tone is becoming equally as sharp. “Y’want me to tell ‘em, “Sorry, I don’t give a fuck about the travel restrictions. My wife wants me home so let's make it happen!” ‘S that what you want me to do?”

“Don’t be a smartass, Harry,” you spit. “I’ll give the phone to your daughter and you can tell her you won’t be home in time for Christmas, then.”

“Y/N…” his tone is calm again. Fearful. “Don’t make me do that.”

“She woke up early to write a letter to Santa to tell him she wants you home by tonight, Harry,” your tone softens as well. “Even Olly has been asking for you. Swear his new favorite word is ‘dada’.” He laughs at this as do you, and the shared tension that was present just minutes ago dissipates.

“Just… lemme try a few more things before I tell her, yeah?”

“Harry, it’s already three here,” you gently remind him. “Even if you do make it home today, she’ll be asleep by the time you’re home. I think you just need to tell her.”

Your husband sighs, knowing you were undeniably correct. “Alright. Give Allison the phone, please.”

December 24th, 8 PM

“Almost time for you to head to bed soon, yeah Allybug?” Your daughter lets out a loud sigh in response, not shifting her gaze from the television to you. Ever since Harry told her he wouldn’t be home in time to eat cookies with her, she’s hardly said a word. She’s never experienced a Christmas Eve without her father so understandably, she was missing him tonight.

You shift Olly, who was falling asleep nursing on your lap, into a different position so you could face your daughter directly. From your new position, you can see just how tired she looks.

“‘M not sleepy, Mumma. Gonna stay up and wait for Daddy,” she informs you of her new plans. “When Daddy is home that’s when it’s time for bed.”

“Ally, remember what Daddy told you on the phone earlier? Santa won’t come unless you go to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna sleep,” she’s quickly starting to grow upset. “Not until Daddy tucks me in!”

You purse your lips, not wanting to argue with your headstrong daughter when your son was so close to drifting off into his nightly milk coma. Turning your attention back to the movie that was quietly playing on the television, you decide to drop it for now and try again later.

December 24th, 9:05 PM

Not more than an hour later, Olly is upstairs in his crib fast asleep whilst Ally is still laying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, fighting sleep. She was determined to stay up until her father walked through the front door, and you knew getting her to agree to go to bed was going to be a battle and a half.

“You’re not ready to go to bed yet, Ally?” Her eyes fly open once she hears you addressing her.

“Not yet, Mumma. ‘M not sleepy yet.” Her words are a little slurred due to the exhausted state she was in. You hum in response.

“Could’ve sworn your eyes just shut for a minute there,” you pause for a second to see if she’ll look your way. “Must’ve just been my old lady eyes playin’ tricks on me, y’think?”

“I wasn’t sleeping!” She immediately defends herself, frown lines indenting her forehead. “Can we drink more hot chocolate?”

You knew if you wanted your daughter to fall asleep within the hour, another sugar rush wasn’t the best idea. You instead offer her a hot cup of sleepytime tea and she excitedly agrees once you tell her it’s her father’s favorite type of tea to drink at bedtime. You place her down on the kitchen counter while you fill the kettle and wait for it to whistle.

“What are you looking forward to the most from Santa, bug?”

Her eyes light up at your question. “Well, I really want a new bike! ‘Member Mumma? How I asked him for a pink bike? And I also want a cool swing set! Since we haven’t been able to go to the park in so long,” her smile falters and she looks down at her dangling feet. “I want Daddy to come home the mostest, though.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to break in two upon hearing your daughter admit that Harry being home would be the greatest gift of all. “So do I, lovebug. He’ll be here in the mornin’ to watch you and your brother open all the gifts Santa got you though, don’t you worry.”

For everyone’s sake, you hoped that was true.

December 24th, 11:50 PM

Sleep wasn’t coming easy.

You finally got your daughter to bed at around ten o’clock and waited thirty minutes before laying out your children’s gifts. It took much longer than it usually did considering you had to do it all on your own. Harry was usually the one to quickly assemble the larger toys while you laid everything out around the living room.

Despite it taking longer than desired, you were proud that you got it all done without waking your children up. Consequently, that meant you were now left all alone with your thoughts considering you had no more tasks to occupy yourself with.

You kept contemplating calling Harry, but you weren’t sure if he was busy on set or not. Surely he was immersing himself in work to distract himself from the fact he would not be spending Christmas with his family.

Deciding you may need a cup of the sleepytime tea you offered Allison earlier, you quietly get out of bed and open your door, sock-clad feet padding softly against the wooden floors. It’s unnervingly silent in your home–– the tea kettle coming to a boil being the only source of noise. You keep unlocking and re-locking your phone, finally deciding to call your husband to see how he’s spending his day. It goes to automatic voicemail.

You assume the reason for this must be that he’s busy filming on set and set your phone down with a sigh, standing on your tiptoes to retrieve a mug from the cabinet. You mutter a slew of curse words under your breath intended for Harry who always puts the mugs up far too high even though you tell him not to.

Right as you begin pouring the now boiling water into your teacup, the faint jingling of your front door causes you to startle so badly that you nearly drop the kettle on the ground. You try to think back to everything Harry ever told you to do in the event of an intruder but your mind goes blank from fright. Deciding to use the scalding water as your weapon, you slowly creep towards the door, your only plan being to fling the water on whoever it was as soon as they got the door open. As soon as you hear the lock click, you flick the lid open that covers the spout and draw your arm back.

“Shit––”

“Harry?”

Your husband jumps slightly, his eyes blinking rapidly in an effort to adjust to the dark living room. You reach beside him and quickly turn on the light, shakily letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He looks exhausted, his hair is an absolute mess, and his eyes are red from sleep deprivation–– but he’s home. You set the tea kettle down on the coffee table and fling yourself into his arms, breathing in the scent of the man you haven’t seen in a month. He drops his bags at his feet so he can properly embrace you, pulling you into him.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head and stays like that for a moment saying nothing, just breathing you in. “Missed ya so fuckin’ much.

“How? I thought…” you trail off. “You said that they said…”

Harry laughs quietly. “Remember what I told ya? I said to ‘em, ‘Don’t give a fuck about your travel restrictions! M’wife wants me home.’” You laugh at him, knowing he was far too kind to talk to anyone that way.

“Yeah, okay,” you reply sarcastically. You pull him in for another hug, placing wet kisses along his jawline. “I’m so happy you’re home. The kids are gonna be over the moon, especially Allison.” Harry hums, surveying the room.

“Looks like you did a good job in here, Mrs. Claus. See ya even assembled some toys all by yourself,” he quirks an eyebrow. “Were you jus’ pretendin’ not to know how to do it all these years so I’d be stuck with all the hard labor?”

“Maybe.”

He pulls you back into him, tickling your sides. “My sneaky girl,” he bends down so his lips are level with your neck and sucks gently, causing you to let out a quiet moan. You see his eyes land on the tea kettle that was sitting forgotten on the coffee table. “Making a cuppa? Can I have one? ‘M freezin’.”

“I can think of something else we can do to get you warmed up,” you reach for his hands, interlocking his fingers with yours. “If you know what I’m gettin’ at.”

“Hmm…” Harry releases one of his hands from your grip and taps at his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Not too sure I can say I know what you’re sayin’. Maybe you should just tell me?”

You frown. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?”

“Y’know I’d give you the entire world if you asked me for it. All you gotta do is tell me what you want from me and it’s yours–– ‘m sure you’ve known that since the first day we met, though.” Harry takes a step back, crossing his arms across his chest. Even in his thick winter coat, you can see the way his biceps flex, and it makes you even more feral for him.

“Fine,” you say quietly, feeling yourself start to grow shy under his intense gaze. “I’m kinda... in the mood.” You say it so softly that it would most likely be inaudible to Harry if he wasn’t standing mere inches away from you. Harry throws his head back in laughter and you quickly shush him, not wanting any of your children to wake up.

“In the mood? C’mon, pet,” he uncrosses his arms and reaches for one of your hands. “Tha’s not tellin’ me what you want from me. Tell me exactly what you want, lovie.”

“You know what I want, H,” you tell him with a hint of annoyance in your voice. “It’s been a month. Yanno I want you to fuck me, why are you makin’ me say it?”

Harry gives you a shit-eating grin. “You jus’ said it. I didn’t make you say anything.”

You roll your eyes at his immaturity, already in the process of lifting your nightshirt (one of his old t-shirts that’s become just a little too tight on him) over your head. “Are we gonna get to it or not? Because if not, I’ll just go back to makin’ myself some tea and call it a night––”

Harry takes half a step towards you and reaches up to cup your face, colliding his lips with yours. His lips are a little chapped and taste of his favorite rose lip balm. You feel your body relaxing into the kiss, knees going weak as he walks you back onto the couch.

“You’ve been eatin’ up all the sugar cookies, haven’t you? Can taste it on ya. Thought those were for Santa,” he’s pulled away from you to examine your face. “A bit naughty of you, wouldn’t ya say?”

“Please stop referring to yourself as Santa when we’re about to have sex, Harry.”

“You’re not bein’ very kind to the person that’s about to go down on you, are you?” He sucks harshly on the valley between your breasts, wanting to be sure a deep-colored bruise will appear on your skin later. “That’s okay. It is Christmas, after all. ‘M in a giving mood.”

“Stop talking and get to it then.”

Harry slides off the couch and onto his knees in between your legs, gently kissing your thighs. “Cute pair of undies–– s’like you knew I was comin’ home tonight.” Before you can respond Harry’s fingers are tugging at the waistband of your underwear, eager to get them off of you. He presses light kisses to your core, mumbling about how much he missed the smell of you and how sweet you tasted.

One hand is resting across your stomach while the other one is in between your folds, spreading you open. You try squeezing your thighs around his head, overwhelmed by the feeling of your husband’s lips around your clit after being away from him for so long, but he removes his hand from your stomach and pushes your thighs back apart.

“Feels so good,” you’re breathless, tangling your fingers in Harry’s hair as his hollowed cheeks begin to suck more roughly on your clit. “Missed you so much. Missed this–– us.”

Harry pauses momentarily to look up at you. “I know, angel. God, do I know.” He attaches his lips back on you, swirling his tongue around your clit as you choke back your moans. The hand that is holding you open moves down to toy at your slit as he wordlessly checks to see if you’re okay with his fingers being in you.

“Please,” you say softly, encouraging his next move. He spits on his index and pointer finger before slowly sliding both of them in you, immediately curling them up. “Oh, Harry. Fuckin’ love when you do tha’...”

“Know you do,” His response is curt, simple. He’s focused on the task at hand–– getting you off. He uses the hand that’s lying across your stomach to rub tight circles on your clit, sensing you’re nearing your orgasm from the way you’re starting to clench around him. “Such a good girl fo’ me, darlin’. Gonna make a mess on my fingers in a second, aren’t you?”

You nod as you try to control your breathing and the loudness of your moans. The last thing you wanted was for your daughter to come down to inspect the source of the noise. “Fuck, Harry.”

“Come on, darlin’,” he gently pinches your clit, causing your body to jolt at the sensation. “Gimme a good one. A lil’ welcome back gift for me, hmm?”

Your hips are bucking up to the rhythm of his fingers slipping in and out of you as your orgasm quickly approaches. “Har, I’m close…” it comes out sounding more like a warning than a statement. He moves the two fingers he has inside of you in a back and forth motion, coaxing your first orgasm out of you.

“Tha’s my girl,” he whispers, not stopping his movements even as your back arches as your first orgasm rolls over you like a giant wave. “Givin’ me a good one jus’ like I knew you would. Jus’ like you always do. M’ sweet girl.” As you’re starting to still, Harry pulls his fingers out of you and holds them up to your mouth, instructing you to suck them clean.

You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can properly lean in to steal a kiss from him and notice a rather sizable tent has formed in his pants. Harry gives you a sheepish grin as he palms himself, hissing from the feel of his palm against his cock.

“Want me to do somethin’ about that?” You scoot over on the couch and pat the spot next to you, signaling for your husband to sit beside you. He lifts himself from his seated position, stretching his legs out a bit before plopping down beside you.

“Are you offerin’ me a blowie?”

“I mean, yeah?”

“Can we skip that an’ you can jus’ ride me instead? Think I’d quite like that.”

“Oh you would, would ya?”

Harry nods and unzips his pants, taking himself out. He licks his hand and gives himself a few pumps. “Still on birth control, I’m assuming?”

You roll your eyes as you move to straddle him. “Only been gone for a month, Harry. Of course ‘m still on it, you goof.”

“Can never be too careful. I don’t think now’s a good time for another lil’ one, do you? Think we should at least celebrate Oliver’s first birthday before we try for another one.” His hands are on his hips as he lines you up over his cock, helping you slowly sink down. You missed the burn of him which was even more intense than it usually was considering it’s been a while since he’s taken you.

“I think you’re right,” you reply. You rest your head on his shoulder while you adjust to the size of him, needing to take a moment to yourself before attempting to move. After a short adjustment period you begin rolling your hips, grinding against him in a way that was also bringing pleasure to your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your last orgasm.

Harry’s eyes are fixated on the way your breasts bounce in front of him, the way your stomach slightly jiggles each time you crash back down onto him. His lips are caught in between his teeth; you’re hoping he doesn’t break any skin so you don’t have to hear him whine about how badly the bruise hurts him later.

“Ridin’ me like your life depends on it,” Harry mutters. “Fuckin’ love takin’ you like this, angel. So fuckin’ deep.”

You simply hum in agreement, brain far too foggy to form a coherent sentence. Harry notices your movements starting to become smaller, lazier, so he puts his hands on your hips and decides to take over. He’s thrusting up into you like you’ll up and run away from him if he doesn’t give it his all. He cups your face with one hand and gently guides you towards him, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

“Fuck, H,” your eyes are squeezed shut and your wrap your arms around his neck, feeling your second orgasm quickly approaching. “Rub my clit please, almost there.”

Harry’s fingers immediately come down to rub at your slick nub, not faltering his relentless pace in the slightest. “Clench around me again, lovie,” his voice is higher than usual, whiny, and you know your husband is just as close as you are. “Love when you do tha’, jus’ need you to do it one more time.”

You do as he wishes once more, knowing once he cums you’ll be directly behind him. Harry lets out a string of expletives as he releases inside of you, pulling you tightly against his chest as he rides out his orgasm. You continue riding him, not slowly down as you chase your own release next.

“Harry,” you’re in a trance-like state, chanting his name over and over as you bring yourself over the edge. “Harry, fuck!”

“That’s my good girl,” he says quietly, rubbing your back as you rest your head on his shoulder while you catch your breath. You feel him beginning to soften inside of you so you lift yourself off and lay back on the couch, legs still shaking. It’s quiet for a couple of minutes as the two of you reveal in the afterglow of your orgasms, Harry gently running his fingers along your leg.

“Round two in the shower?”

December 25th, 6:42 AM

“Mumma! Santa came and he left lots of toys–– Daddy?”

Harry lets out a dramatic “oof!” as Ally jumps onto him, pulling the covers back. Her eyes are wide and she giggles are Harry pulls her into one of his infamous bear hugs, placing kisses all over his face.

“Mornin’, love bug! What’re you doin’ up so early?”

“It’s Christmas, Daddy! Santa came!” she sits back on her feet, a confused look on her face. “Did Santa bring you on his sleigh last night after me ‘n Olly went to bed?”

“Y’know what? He told me to keep it a secret, but he did,” Allison gasps in response to his news as she processes it, placing a little hand over her mouth. Harry sits up and gets out of bed, scooping her up in the process. “How ‘bout we go make Mum a cuppa before we see what Santa got for you and Olly? Tha’ sound good? Let’s let them sleep for a while longer, hmm?”

As you hear them exit the room you take a second to reflect on how lucky you are to spend another Christmas with you beautiful family before drifting back off into a deep, albeit short, sleep.

#harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #its not christmas til you come home #thanks for reading!

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slytherinnbitch · 3 years

Text

Proposal Part 2

Part 1

Harry walks into the cemetery in happy spirits. He can't wait to tell his parents about his decision to marry Draco.

When he stops infront of his parents grave, he finds fresh flowers there already. That's weird...

He frowns as he vanishes them and conjures up his own flowers in their place.

"Hey Mum, hey Dad," he says as a way of greeting as he sits down beside them.

"So I'm proposing to Draco tomorrow, I think it's about time, you know? It's just...I- I miss you. Like I have everything but one. Draco's parents, they aren't bad. I think I like them somewhat. Yeah I know how that sounds, Padfoot is probably horrified right now. The Malfoys, pup? How could you!" Harry makes a poor impression of Sirius and smiles as he thinks the scene which is hopefully happening in some other world.

"Tell him I know what I'm doing. Well somewhat. Do you think he will say yes? What if...what if he doesn't want to marry me? What will I do then, Mum? Honestly, I have no idea but I hope I don't have to think about that. I shall get going now, it's late and Draco is waiting." He caresses the grave once fondly, says his goodbye and apparates away.

...

"Hey Mione, I can hear Pans in the background as well." Draco says when he answers the phone call. It had taken him some time but now he could easily use most muggle appliances.

"Dracoooo," Hermione slurs and that astonishes Draco because Hermione never drinks a lot. Just a glass of wine or maybe two mugs of lager but not so much to get drunk. Just 'happy tipsy' she had called it when he had asked years ago.

"We have a secreeeeeet," Pansy sing-songs in the background.

"What secre-" Draco starts but suddenly it's Ron on the line, "Hey mate. Don't pay them mind, I have never seen these two more drunk. Hermione wanted to call to tell you that everything is in proper order and they have told Harry that tomorrow you have a picnic under the stars, as a gift from them. We'll meet you after, yes?"

"Yes, if everything goes well. Otherwise I would be vanishing from the face of the Earth for the next decade or four." Draco jokes, not really. Ron chuckles and they hang up.

Just then, Harry comes home and they order takeout, both of them too tired to cook dinner.

Just before midnight, Draco traps Harry between his body and their bedroom wall, "Hello, love."

A shiver runs down Harry's spine and Draco grins slyly, even after a decade Harry has the same reaction. Honestly, it's good for his ego.

"Hi..." Harry breathes, as he arches his neck in a silent request. Draco places sweet kisses all over his jaw and neck, sucking new marks and biting the tender skin now and then.

Harry is panting by the time he finds his lips. His wand vibrates in his pocket at the slight reminder that it's their anniversary.

"Happy Anniversary, Scarhead." Draco says against his lips and Harry smiles.

"Happy Anniversary, Ferret."

It's tradition to call each other names when wishing the other on a special day and at this point, it's quite adorable. You didn't hear that from him.

...

"We should really thank Hermione and Pansy for this, don't you think?" Harry asks as they finally sit down on the picnic blanket. The sky is bare of any clouds and they can easily see all the stars.

"Indeed, we should. What about an exclusive vacation to some exotic place? You think they would like that?" Draco suggests. It's the least he could do after such an wonderful arrangement.

"I think so, point me your star again?"

He takes Harry's hand and points towards the sky, slowly making an imaginary line with their hands.

There's a pleasant breeze blowing and the place is absolutely perfect, it's now or never.

"Harry, love. I have something to say," Draco says tentatively. Ugh, nerves!

"Oh? I have something to ask as well. You can go first though," Harry offers and smiles charmingly at him. Salazar and Godric, hope he says yes. Because Draco doesn't know how to live with a no, not after everything.

Here goes...

"Could you please stand up, please." Draco asks, "There's something I like to show you."

Harry frowns at him for a moment but stands up and faces Draco. He really hopes Hermione and Pansy can see them and start-

The sky is filled with different fireworks and Harry looks at them in awe. Harry had always been fascinated with fireworks and nothing brings Draco more joy than making Harry smile.

The words Will You Marry Me? shines through everything at last, crystal clear- thanks to Fred and George's handiwork. He gets down on one knee and takes out the ring box and holds it open.

Harry frowns at the words in the sky for a moment, then opens his mouth to say something to Draco and freezes when he sees him on knee.

"Draco..." Harry gasps, and his eyes widen. Maybe this was a bad idea, well it's too late now anyways.

"Harry, love. Today marks our ten years and in the past decade, I have learned so many things, I learned kindness and how love feels like and how- what I'm trying to say that in the last decade you have made me a better person each day and made me fall more in love with you. I want to do that for the rest of our lives and even if I don't really deserve it, I want to make you mine forever. So tell me, Harry James Potter, will you do the honour of marrying me?" Draco finishes with a smile and a single tear rolls down Harry's cheek.

"As inspiring as that was. This just isn't fair!" Harry whines and for a moment Draco thinks Harry is going to stomp his foot.

Draco hasn't been more confused in his entire life. He gives Harry a questioning look. Is he even going to get an answer or what?

Harry takes a calming breath and goes down on his knees. "This is what I'm talking about," he says and fiddles with his jacket and produces a black box, a ring box and was he ......

He opens the box and Draco looks up at him, "Yes, you idiot. I was planning on asking you tonight but no you always have to compete me." Harry huffs and then Draco starts laughing.

He can't help it, it's funny. They are both idiots, utter idiots. Harry looks very much like he wants to join Draco in his amusement but he holds off for ami minute, looking slightly put out. Then he joins in as well.

"So that's a yes then?" Draco asks, it doesn't hurt to be sure. Harry looks at him with are-you-actually-this-daft expression, usually Harry is on the receiving end of that expression.

"I can't even look at you right now." Harry says and drags him in for a rough kiss.

"Idiotic prat." Harry says as they break apart. "No Draco, I won't marry you. I just wanted to see how it might feel to propose to you on our anniversary just for laugh, yeah?"

Draco gives him a sheepish smile and Harry shakes his head.

"Give me your hand," Draco demands and Harry smiles fondly at his tone and gives his left hand. Draco takes out ring and places it on his ring finger where it will rest forever.

"My turn," Harry says and takes his hand in his and delicately places the ring there.

They look at each other tenderly with all their love on display, then slowly come closer. As if it's their first kiss and it feels like such as well, almost shyly they kiss each other, tender with love and rough with passion.

...

As they pull apart, someone behind them mutters, "Fucking finally!" And then all their friends are there, yelling out congratulations in various degrees as they come out from wherever they were hiding.

Pansy is the first one to reach them and she engulfs Draco in a hug and murmurs something in his ear which makes Draco swat her arm. She is onto Harry when Hermione arrives, closely followed by Ron, Blaise, Luna and Ginny.

They all congratulate them as hugs and kisses are exchanged. Harry is grinning throughout the night, even as they make their way back home.

He had been surprised when he noticed that they both had chosen almost identical rings for each other, except for the size of the diamonds. He had kissed Draco very inappropriately when he had noticed, much to Ron's horror. Seriously, the dramatics never stopped when it came to Ron and Draco.

"Draco...did you...visit my parents yesterday?" Harry asks as they keep their coats.

"...yes, I did, you know to ask for their permission. How did you-" Draco doesn't get time to finish because Harry is onto him.

He can't express the amount of love that passes through him at that single sentence. Draco went to Godric's hollow to ask his parents. The gesture is so sweet that he can actually feel his heart ache. They lose themselves in one another after that, no longer waiting for words to express their feelings, but rather showing it with their actions as they make sweet tender love.

Unbeknownst to both of them, craved inside their rings, is their story.

Masters of Their Own

Tagging @cissa-bee @sorry-i-ship-drarry @cupofsquirrelfan @textrovert-01 @a-disasterperson @thebusyfangirl @moramystery because you all requested this!

Part 3

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honey-boyyoongi · 3 years

Text

Pairing ➪ Y/n x Yoongi | Y/n x Jungkook

Word count ➪ 3.1k

Warning ➪ not beta read; angst; I am sorry in advance

Previous Fic Masterlist

Jungkook has been laying on your lap for what seems, hours. You haven’t spoken to him in a year, maybe a little more. A ‘hi’ here and there when Mrs. Jeon invites you, and Yoongi to events. You can never say no to her. Slowly, you start noticing Sooyoung showed up less, and less. Jungkook always gave the excuses, ‘She’s not feeling well’, ‘Sooyoung has a work project she has to get done’, ‘Her friend is having a baby, and she’s the birthing partner’, ‘She’s housesitting for her brother’. They never seemed to stop. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon were understanding, but visibly disappointed. As far as everyone knew, everything was perfect. Until it wasn’t. Your mother told you it was about children. Jungkook wanted children, but Sooyoung was not sure if she ever wanted to be a mother. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with not wanting children, and not wanting the commitment of it. But they wanted different things.

What Jungkook never told his parents was how messy it was. The harsh words, the long nights, large amounts of tears shed on both ends, and the feelings of failure. Jungkook wanted to make it work. He wants to believe Sooyoung wanted to make it work. Within the week Sooyoung had moved into her co-worker’s place, at the end of the month the papers were signed, by four months the divorce was final, and Sooyoung had accepted a transfer to a sister location across the country. It was fine for a while, at least Jungkook tried to convince himself it was fine. The days felt long, dreary.

He tried to get back into painting, boxing, and other hobbies he had pre-Sooyoung. He started hanging out with friends more, Namjoon was more than happy to catch up over some beers from his favorite brewery. He even started talking to Yoongi more. They were work partners, regardless of that, their chatter never went past the needed communication to complete the necessary work. Jungkook started slowly, asking Yoongi if he wanted a coffee while he got his own. Inviting him to lunch with Namjoon. Even making jokes here, and there. It’s not what it was before, but they’re getting there.

He moved out of the apartment that him, and Sooyoung shared. It was difficult, but he’ll make this new space home. It’s definitely smaller than his previous apartment. Cozier, he wants to say. Jungkook fills it up with art that had been put in storage, his salvaged knick knacks, pictures with his friends and family. His parents gift him new kitchenware. His older brother helps paint. Namjoon gives him some new plants to care for, and Yoongi comes over to assemble some furniture because ‘you need the help kid’. A few weeks post-divorce, he feels good, normal. He’s out with his mom at the mall when he finally sees her.

He wants to say she’s more beautiful than he remembers, but all he can focus on is the bump she has. His mom catches his line of sight, “Oh, look at my Yn-ie. She looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” He nods in response. “She’s eight months now, Mrs. Min says it’s a girl. They’re so excited, Hyeri says Yoonie has been talking non-stop about the baby,” his mother chatters. She talks his ear off about the Min baby. The name, the nursery, heck even the baby shower the moms threw as a surprise. He’s happy for her, for them. He ignores the ache in his chest the rest of the outing.

His mother, bless her heart, goes up to Y/n. Asks how she’s doing, how baby min is doing. “Surprisingly energetic,” she jokes, “Yoongi says she gets it from him, but this is the same man that knocks out if he gets comfortable enough on anything.”

While his mom is chatting Y/n up, he takes her in. She cut her hair to a lob, waves a little more defined. Her smile lines are a little more prevalent. Eyes sparkling, a bit tired looking, the baby must be giving her a hard time if it’s kicking up a storm in there. She rubs her belly in comforting motions, as she talks with his mom. He can’t help admiring her features.

“What do you think, kookie?”

Jungkook stared at his mother, and Y/n, “I’m sorry what?”

His mother sighed, “He’s been like this for a bit, sweetie. Nothing sweetheart.”

They keep chatting about the baby. He tells his mom he has to finish his errands. She waves him away with a ‘be careful’ and ‘love you’. Y/n waves goodbye with a shy look. They walk slowly to the nearest bench, his mother’s hands waving around as she speaks.

He doesn’t know how he gets to Y/n’s house. One drink turned into three then six and a half. All doubles, of course. The bartender could tell he was drowning his sorrows, and promptly cut him off as he was ordering his seventh drink, but instead of a double a triple. His angel of a bartender helped him order an Uber to the nearest place he could remember. Once he arrived at the apartment complex, he made the very unsteady way to Yoongi’s and Y/n’s apartment. He knocked on the door heavily. It felt like a long time until Y/n answered.

She looked so pretty. In her cute little pj’s, belly accentuated by the soft material. Her cheeks a little rosy from the effort of walking at this point in her pregnancy.

Surprise filled her face, “Jungkook, what are you doing here?”

He pouts, swaying a bit as he tries to find his footing, “I.. I miss you. It’s been hard these last few months without you.”

“Are you drunk,” Y/n asks worried.

Jungkook hiccups in response, “In my defense, the nice bartender lady cut me off.” Y/n sighs, she could call Mrs. Jeon to come get Jungkook. But she doesn’t want her to see him this inebriated. The feelings of the divorce probably caught up with him and were too overwhelming. Y/n doesn’t know what to do, but decides to take care of Jungkook like she used to.

Y/n takes his hand, and gently guides him to the large side of the L-shape couch. She avoids putting any of Jungkook’s weight on herself while gently, as gently as she can place a drunk man, sitting him. She coaxes Jungkook to slowly drink a full glass of water to sober up, with little difficulty thank goodness. After a moment or two of adjustment on the couch that wouldn’t make her uncomfortable, Y/n settles next to Jungkook. It would be better to be closer to him, as to avoid the unavoidable struggle that movement seems to have these days.

Jungkook must be finding it difficult to sit upright, as he ends up laying down. Feet dangling on the edge, head on the available part of your lap, his face looking away from your belly. He starts to hum quietly, nothing specific really, it’s calming.

“Can you pet my hair, please,” Jungkook mumbles. Y/n nods, “Sure. Your hair has gotten long, I like it. It suits you.”

Jungkook slurs, “Thanks, Sooyoung hated it long. Said it made me look messy.” She hummed in distaste, “She also hated anything that wasn’t to her liking. I’ve missed you too Kook. It’s been weird not having you around.”

He snuggles deeper into her lap finding comfort in her warmth, “I know. You don't know how much I’ve been wanting to call you, and just tell you all the things that happened.”

Y/n nudges Jungkook up, she settles more comfortably into her spot and nudges Jungkook back down. He decides he’s no longer satisfied with looking at the wall in front of him, and with the most grace he can muster he turns to face Y/n’s belly. If he was sober enough he could’ve seen the pink rising in her ears. He grabs her hand and places it back on his head to keep receiving his favorite head scratches. Maybe it’s the whiskey, but he feels like he’s having a staring contest with Y/n’s belly. He’s strangely okay with that, until he feels the (surprisingly) hard kick of baby min on his cheek.

Jungkook lets out a groan, and follows it up with an antagonistic soft poke at the spot the kick came from. “Your kid isn’t even here yet and it’s already bullying me,” he sighs. “You’re supposed to be nice to your elders,” he tells her. Y/n giggles, “She’s a kicker. Sometimes she’ll wake me up in the middle of the night. I don’t know where she got this energy from. My mother in law says her boys weren’t too rowdy, and mom says I wasn't a kicker, but more of a crier. So that’s something to look forward to.”

Jungkook laughs, he wants to say she still is. He looks up at her, “Is it okay if I touch your belly?” Y/n is a little shocked. The few times he’s seen her, he’s never mentioned anything about her pregnancy. She wants to question him, but decides against it. She gives him a soft nod, and guides his hand to her belly. “Be gentle,” Y/n tells him.

Jungkook moves his hand in small, soft circles. Making quiet noises of contentment. A few minutes of silence pass by with no words exchanged. It feels comfortable, even a little nostalgic to how things were pre-marriages. “Kids,” Jungkook says.

“What?” Y/n asks.

“We divorced over kids,” he says more firmly, “Sooyoung wasn’t sure if she wanted kids. You already know I wanted them. We couldn’t come to an agreement of when we would start trying. She wanted to wait because she was up for a promotion at work, and she didn’t want to pass it up by staying home with the kids. I told her I was okay being at home with them, the good thing about my job is that I can work from home, if needed. I could be the stay at home dad, be part time until we were comfortable enough to put them in daycare and go back to full time. She said she’d think about it.”

He sniffles, and buries his face into Y/n’s belly. She starts to caress his hair to comfort him, “It’s okay, take your time.”

Jungkook sniffled a bit more, rubbing little circles on her belly with his thumb, “She said we would talk more about it. A little before you got married we talked about it again, but she kept saying she can’t do her job and be pregnant. I told her she wouldn’t do it herself, I would help her. We were a unit. She refused to talk about it after that. Any time I wanted to have a talk about it, it turned into something bigger and ugly. A few months ago I mentioned that mom had told me you were pregnant.” He paused for a moment, wondering if it was appropriate to go on. Y/n kept playing with his hair, encouraging him to speak when he’s comfortable.

“I made a comment..,” Jungkook mumbles, “I made a comment about how I couldn’t wait for our kids to be running around together. Sooyoung got angry. She said that would never happen. I asked her why, you were still my friend, so is Yoongi. Why wouldn’t I want our kids to be friends too?”

Y/n hummed, not sure how to react to Sooyoung’s statement. “Is that what started the argument?”

He nodded, “Yeah. I got upset, I told her that she can’t keep avoiding my friends, I missed you guys and wanted to be how we were. I wanted you to, at least, be amicable. I didn’t expect her to be best friends with you guys.” Jungkook got quiet once again. He could feel baby Min moving. He wanted to feel what he’s missing these past several months.

“So, clearly she didn’t like us,” Y/n jokes.

Jungkook chuckled dryly, “Clearly. She said how do I expect her to be friends with the person she’ll always be second best to. As well as the people that blamed her for us not being together.”

“I told her Joon and Yoongi don’t blame her for anything,” he said, “She wasn’t second best to anyone, and you’ve been my friend for years. Sooyoung didn’t believe it. I asked her if we all somehow got along, why wouldn’t our kids be friends. She said there wasn’t going to be any kids for yours to be friends with. I asked her what she meant.” Jungkook choked up at the memory, “Sooyoung said after some thinking, she wasn’t sure if she ever wanted kids. She doesn’t know if she can commit herself to that role. She says she has her career ahead of her and I can’t make her be a mom.”

Jungkook started to tear up, “I told her I’m not expecting her to be a stay at home mom. I repeated that I would be a stay at home parent… She… She said she’s not sure if she wants to have kids at all. Sooyoung said it’s too much responsibility.”

He started to sob, his body shaking from the increased intensity. “I couldn’t believe it. When we were dating she said she wanted kids. I’m not upset that she doesn’t want any, it’s her choice. I’m upset that she lied to me about it.”

Y/n’s heart aches for her friend, she knows how much Jungkook wanted kids. Namjoon might be the one buying baby shoes because he finds them cute, but Jungkook has always talked about being a dad. Always talked about how he wanted to be the type of parent his were, that encouraged him to thrive in his likes and talents. He was passionate about it.

“We talked all night. We couldn’t come to any type of resolution. So we decided to separate. This was something that was non-negotiable.”

“Is that what led to the divorce,” Y/n asked.

Jungkook nodded, “She stayed at a coworker’s place that she’s friends with. We didn’t talk for a couple weeks. Sooyoung reached out first. She said this is something she won’t change her mind on. She’s sorry for not being truthful about her stance on kids. We decided to divorce. We settled pretty quickly. It’s signed and official as of last month.”

“I’m sorry kook,” Y/n whispered.

You were sorry, he knew you were. He keeps rubbing your belly, feeling baby Min follow around. Wanting to feel the comfort of having you around.

Jungkook ends up falling in and out of sleep. He doesn’t know how long he lays there for.

“No, I’m fine.”

“He’s asleep right now.”

Who were you talking to?

“No, Yoonie, it's fine. He’s sleeping and he didn’t do anything. I think the divorce finally got to him.”

He heard you pause, but didn’t hear anyone else in the apartment. You must be speaking with Yoongi on the phone.

“No, we just talked about it. He was pretty upset, obviously.”

You continued to play with his hair, brushing out the knots with your fingers. He hummed lowly, snuggling closer to your belly. Baby Min must’ve had the same idea because she was still squirming around. Yoongi assured you he would be home soon with Namjoon to get Jungkook home.

“Y/n?”

“Yes, Kook,” You answered.

He sits up, eyes puffy, and cheeks stained with tears. “Do you ever think about us?”

“Like? Our friendship? Of course, all the time,” you answer.

He scoots closer facing you, and reaches out to hold your hand. “No, I’m talking about us. What we could’ve been.”

“I did, but not anymore,” you answered honestly, “You chose Sooyoung, kook. I wasn’t going to wait forever. I deserved, and still deserve to be happy. And I am happy. You shouldn’t think about the what if’s.”

Jungkook sniffled. “I do,” he whispered, “All the time. I think about what if, I had worked up the courage to confess to you on one of our last movie nights? Things would’ve been different. We would’ve been happy. We would’ve gotten married, and had the wedding you always talked about.” He paused, he’s trying so hard not to cry about it. “We would’ve had those cats you wanted, and we would’ve finally adopted the dog that hangs around the convenience store. We would’ve had a baby. We would’ve been a family. I should’ve said something, shown you how much I loved you. How much I still love you.”

You pulled your hand away from him, “But you didn’t, you chose Sooyoung kook. I loved you, I still love you, but not how you want me to. Maybe things would’ve been different, but it’s too late.”

Jungkook starts to sob, he knows it’s too late. It felt bittersweet to hear that she still loves him.

Namjoon takes Jungkook home. He feels everything, yet nothing. Maybe he can start fresh with no what if’s to cling on to.

Joon helps him get cleaned up, and lays him down in his cold bed. He lets himself dream of what could’ve been.

“How are my girls doing?” Jungkook asked, while caressing your growing tummy. “SHE,” you pointed, “is giving mommy a hard time. S’been kicking all morning. She’s definitely YOUR daughter.” Jungkook lets out a sympathetic giggle. Your baby has been a pain in your butt, more like your bladder, since she could move. Mrs. Jeon says her youngest was the exact same, and to expect an energetic baby once she’s out. She’ll be all smiles, and sweet giggles, as well as a pain to put to sleep. Maybe she’ll take after her father and sleep like a log your mother in law jokes. The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of doctors appointments, birthing classes, nesting, nesting, and more nesting. The nursery has changed colors three times, Jungkook was insistent on doing art on the walls to give it a personal touch. Took a whole weekend, but now your baby girl will be slumbering under the stars.

Both of you have gone through the recommended parenting books, gotten advice from the grandmothers and aunties, Jungkook might’ve panicked a little at the repeated visual of you giving birth. But, it’s all part of the process. He’s been enjoying giving little facts he’s been learning from the shared pregnancy tracker.

“Babe, did you know our baby is the size of a cherry today?”

“Hey, by now they grew all their toes.”

“Did you know our baby can pee? In the womb?”

“Jungkook, what the fuck dude?”

Other than the obvious pregnancy issues, things have been smooth sailing. His favorite thing to do these days has been laying his head on your lap caressing your belly. If it was up to him he’d stay there for hours drawing patterns with his fingers, singing to his baby, feeling her movements.

A/N: Heyyyyyyyy~~~ originally I wasn’t gonna do an epilogue, but I got the idea after talking about a headcanon I had with my sister. Happy (super) late birthday to Jungkookie ❤️ hopefully in my next fic involving you, you get to be happy lol. Feedback is appreciated ❤️

Masterlist

#bts #bts angst #bts fics #bts imagines #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts non idol au #fic: all i want #yoongi #jungkook #yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #reader x bts #bangtan fics #bangtan angst #bangtan #bangtan imagines #bangtan fanfic #bangtan non idol au

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shyanshippingsociety · 2 years

Text

Shyan Shipping Society - New Year's Exchange 2022

hello hello hello!

this new year's, we had a special gift exchange in our server! it's our second new year's exchange and we had some amazing artists & authors participate! we are so excited to bring you their works!

check out the challenge collection here!

share your address by idkspookystuff | E, 4K, complete

It’s never fun when you wake up to your head pounding out of your skull after a night you can’t remember. It’s even worse when you wake up to someone chanting “shit, shit, shit!”

when shane and ryan get a little too drunk on a weird, wonderful world shoot, they find out they got married and it's all over the internet. a few weeks later, ryan learns he's pregnant. the plan? pretend to be a married couple. easy enough to do with feelings, right?

Gift (SSS gift exchange!) by LastBroadcast | E, 2K, complete

Christmas time is a time for giving! So what if Ryan gave Shane... himself?

Snowed In (Minus the Snow) by FireflyAndTheStoryJar | T, 2K, complete

Ryan’s mother would often ask why Shane would leave early on Christmas Eve, but with some half-truths, she was usually polite enough not to push for more. This Christmas, though, she was determined to keep Shane there until Christmas Day. Ryan realized that as soon as Shane couldn’t find his coat and shoes by the door hook and shoe shelf.

i love you in every context imaginable by icantturnthisthingoff | T, 4K, complete

The one where a Christmas trip to Schaumburg finally unearths a drunken "mistake" that happened two years prior.

love put a gun in my hand by bodhirookes | E, 20K, complete

“Evening,” Shane says, though it’s leaning closer to midnight than to dinnertime. “Heard from my deputy that somethin’ was afoot down here.”

TJ carefully tips his head, gesturing at the table of men. “They rolled in about an hour ago. It took me until now to recognize them—Bergara and his boys.”

Shane looks at the table again, and this time, one of the men is looking back. Even across the room, his eyes are fierce and devastating to gaze upon, like taking a pair of bullets to the gut. Messy black hair escapes the brim of his hat, brushing the top of a long, vivid scar that runs from forehead to cheek over his right eye, and the expression on his handsome face is as arrogant as it is enticing, like he’s inviting anyone who seeks him out to start a fistfight and end it with a good, hard fuck. Shane would know that face anywhere, and has seen it on more WANTED posters than he could ever hope to count.

Or, Shane is the sheriff of a town that infamous bounty hunter-disguised-criminal Ryan Bergara has set his sights on, and will do whatever it takes to keep Bergara from burning it to the ground

Sacrificial Lamb by tanabubbles | M, 6K, complete

When Ryan half-heartedly did a summoning ritual, the last thing he expected was to gain a hot demon butler out of it.

Hold On To Me by PlatinumPussycat208 | T, 2K, complete

His heart was racing and he could feel the fear coursing through his body. His throat choked up and there were tears welling in his eyes. Ryan wanted to leave, to run back up those stairs and out of the mansion and never look back. But Ryan was frozen. - Ryan encounters something supernatural in the basement of an old mansion. Shane is there to help him through his fear.

Howl (Snowstorm Song) by ghoulfriends (sungoldened) | E, 4K, in progress

I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again."

When a snowstorm strands him in Schaumburg, Illinois, Ryan stays with a stranger.

The Slow Realization by red_crate | G, 2K, complete

Five times Shane has feelings and one time he voices them.

Stars in Your Soul by Blue__Jay | M, 7K, in progress

Ryan is an unconventional kind of Angel... Meaning he owns a second-hand shop in downtown LA and wants no one to bother him. As fate would have it, though, a rogue demon shows up with an offer Ryan can't refuse. It shouldn't surprise him that fraternizing with a demon brings all sorts of trouble to his door, after all, demons are known for causing problems. So why does Ryan find himself agreeing to help with a smirk on his face?

The Coldest Winter by BittyBergara (Pennstram) | E, 2K, complete

“Because I’m fucking tired, Ryan.” He was tired of walking around in the snow. Tired of the cold. Tired of pretending. It was grating and draining. Pretending to be happy and in love with the one person you couldn’t stand to be around.

a kiss at midnight by verilyvexed | G, art

Fanart: At a party, more than half-drunk on good champagne, warm and soft around the edges. The clock strikes midnight and they turn to each other. Hesitantly, the inevitable becomes the actual.

I Want Ours To Be An Endless Song by sunlight_sonata | T, 11K, complete

“I promise.” Shane frowns for a moment. Maybe he sees the look on Ryan’s face, because something in his own expression clears. “In fact, let’s make an oath. I swear to never abandon you, Bergara. You’ve got me hooked, goddamn. I don’t know how you’ve done it.”

For one, fleeting moment, Ryan wants to kiss Shane right there in the front yard of this random suburban home. He wants it so much that it terrifies him, and the thought of wanting something so unattainable is such a familiar feeling it’s like it’s never left him. Like his mind is a haunted house where the spirits of “what if” and “maybe” roam the halls and wake him up at night.

“I swear too, big guy,” he manages. “I… yeah. I’m gonna stick around for a while.”

Or, When Ryan puts an ad in the newspaper for a room to rent, he doesn't mention the ghosts. What he ends up with is more than he could ever have bargained for.

But... what if we held hands? by madnerding | G, art

Demon Shane and Mothman Ryan holding hands. Done with alcohol markers.

Bergara Family Art by noviosfantasmas | G, art

My recipient asked for kidfic, and I’m always game for an opportunity to draw cute babies

helping hands by Artemis | E, 1K, complete

At this point, Ryan felt his attempts were futile. He had already come three times and he was working on a fourth chasing a feeling that he had seen many times, but had never done himself. Squirting was something he always wanted to try, but had never been able to achieve so he figured since Shane was working late at the office, it was the perfect time to try.

Or so he thought.

thank you so much to everyone who participated in this event! we can't wait until the next one!

#shyan shipping society new years exchange 2022 #mod ve #shyan #skeptic believer #watcher after dark #buzzfeed after dark #buzzfeed unclean #shyan shipping society

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alrightberries · 3 years

Text

strawberries and cigarettes (always taste like you)

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: angst ❈ word count: 4k

❈ summary: Levi celebrates Christmas Eve the only way he knew how: getting drunk and high on a rooftop while thinking about you.

❈ trigger warnings: drinking and smoking. mentions of violence, gore, blood and death. brief mention of sex. profanity.

a/n: canon compliant but also kinda not? idk if they have cigarettes in the aot/snk universe or if they celebrate christmas so just roll with it.

Smoke puffed out of Levi’s lips, slowly dissipating in the chilly December night. The breeze that passed by caused goosebumps to rise on his skin, a product of the winter’s unforgiving coldness, and the thought of getting off the rooftop where he sat in silence briefly crossed his mind. His office wasn’t that far and it wouldn’t take that long to quickly grab his coat, but the longer he stayed and stared at the dark sky, the more he found himself not caring about the cold breeze or the below zero temperatures.

He took another puff from the cigarette in his hand, eyes drifting towards the barracks where the rest of the regiment most likely was at this hour. The torches and lamps scattered around the base glowed a warm orange-y yellow, a contrast to the whites and blues of the snow and darkness. It looked gorgeous, almost, and Levi silently chuckled to himself at the sickening thought of finding anything beautiful at this fucked up time of year.

Christmas Eve.

A time for friends. A time for family. A time for people to gather around the fireplace and drink warm beverages as they sang songs, told stories, and eagerly waited for the stroke of midnight to open and exchange their gifts.

What a load of bullshit.

Christmas Eve was Levi’s version of a pain in the ass. It was a holiday filled with a bunch of cadets greeting him with a warm and cheery ‘Merry Christmas, Captain’ every time he passed them in the halls, and he would only respond with either silence or a brief nod of acknowledgement. Not to mention, it was also the time where Hanji would try to get him to celebrate different festivities in an attempt to cheer him up.

It was technically a week-long headache for Levi, with the eccentric soldier- for an entire seven days prior to Christmas- trying just about everything in the book in attempts to get him to sit around the fire with the other squad leaders or even do something as small as switch out tea for hot chocolate to match the holiday spirit. It seemed like Hanji’s excessive invitations would always get worse around Christmas Eve, but of course, it never worked.

Levi took a swig of the whiskey he’d brought with him onto the rooftop, extinguishing the cigarette he was holding and lighting a new one once it had reached its end, before taking another deep inhale of the stick of nicotine.

Indeed, Christmas Eve was nothing but a pain for Levi.

Perhaps Hanji thought of him as lonely. Maybe Erwin had even just half a mind to worry about his well-being. But truth be told, Levi did celebrate Christmas Eve in his own little way: at around 10 o’clock at night, without fail, Levi would make his way onto the highest rooftop of their current base carrying nothing but whiskey, nicotine, and strawberries. From there, he would drink and smoke until midnight came, at which point he would start to eat the strawberries he’d brought. Then he would drink and smoke some more until he felt like his liver couldn’t handle it anymore, before eventually making his way back to his quarters at 4 o’clock in the morning and attempt to get his drunk and high mind to rest.

It was his fucked up little Christmas Eve tradition.

The first year Hanji had noticed that Levi wasn’t around the base for their Christmas Eve celebration, they went around asking people if anyone had seen him, to which everyone would reply with ‘No, I haven’t seen him, sorry.’ When the second year came around, Hanji once again noticed that Levi was gone and no one had seemed to know where he was. So when the third year came around, they waited for him to leave his office and stealthily followed him around the base to find out exactly where Levi runs off to during the holidays. Hanji got caught, of course, and by the third time they’d gotten caught (and almost strangled each time) they knew it was best to stick to pestering him rather than following him.

Levi grimaced at the memories of Hanji trying to follow him around, him sensing it immediately and going around the base in an attempt to shake them off his tail, failing, and eventually just resorting to telling them off (Oi, four-eyes, how much longer do you plan to stalk me like a creepy old pervert?)

He sighed.

He wasn’t always like this. He used to enjoy Christmas Eve and doing all the cliche holiday traditions that came with it; sitting around the fireplace with Isabel and Farlan and playing the guitar, pretending not to care about their tone-deaf voices as they sang their own version of holiday songs, never really knowing the lyrics but knowing the tune and making up words to accompany the melody as they go.

Where did he go wrong?

It was around his second bottle of whiskey and his second (or third? He couldn’t remember but didn’t really care at this point) packet of cigarettes when Levi’s fuzzy mind would finally unlock the memories he’d kept at the very back of his mind- a place where he couldn’t reach them and they couldn’t reach him. Memories he’d repressed years ago, never to be thought of, never to see the light of day. Except on Christmas Eve.

He closed eyes as he exhaled, lying down on the rooftop’s snow-covered shingles as he carefully set down the bottle of whiskey next to him, just within his reach. He went through cherry-picked memories of his life Underground once again, relishing in the warmth and happiness he once felt when he was with Isabel and Farlan. But at the very corner of each memory, always within his peripheral vision, was a fuzzy character- a person, no doubt- laughing. Smiling. Holding his hand. Playing with his hair. Kissing him good night. Bandaging his wounds. Showing him tricks with a knife. Making tea. Talking with Isabel and Farlan.

He took another swig of the bottle of whiskey, eager to make the fuzzy memory vivid in a way that only the drink that burned his throat could do. His heart skipped a beat as the blurry edges and lines he’d superimposed into his own mind cleared and revealed the one person that made this living hell a bit less terrible, and the only reason why he ever did his little Christmas Eve tradition.

For a moment, it felt like he was floating on air as he finally got a good look at the character that he’d tried so hard to erase from his mind but never could. His mind may have forgotten but his body still remembered, and he felt the tips of his fingers tingle not from the cold but from the memories of a touch, a touch so endearing, a touch so warm, a touch that felt like home. A touch that was unmistakably you.

Mind fuzzy from the alcohol and head just a little light from the nicotine, Levi can faintly remember the moments he’d shared with you during his time in the Underground.

He remembers being homeless after Kenny had left him, then meeting you as you both ran into each other- quite literally, at that- when you stole bread from a bakery and made a run for it as two angry adults chased after you, cutting him a deal that if he helped you get out of it alive then you would share your measly loaf of bread with him. He remembers teaming up with you from that day onward and watching each others’ backs, sleeping in alleyways and taking shifts for safety, rummaging through garbage cans for food before Levi decided that enough was enough and robbing a stall so you both could eat that day.

Faintly, he also remembers the day he joined a gang that promised him food, shelter, and a steady paying job if he could prove how strong he was by beating up a rival gang member. He remembers getting jumped by three other people as he beat up the man he was told to pummel, fighting them off and winning without so much as a sweat. He remembers the gang he wanted to join eagerly inviting him after the fact, and he agreed on the condition that you came along too.

He remembers the first time he’d taken a shower after years of being filthy, and how clean and fresh he felt without the dirt and grime caking his clothes and his skin. He remembers hearing the door to his small room open- knowing that it was you- and turning around so he could marvel at how clean he felt. But his words died on his tongue as he took a look at you, hair clean, face visible, dirt free, and looking ever-gorgeous in the clothes he’d bought you the day before using his blood money. The clothes weren’t fancy in any way at all, just simple clothes that he bought on a whim when he realized that you’d been wearing the same unwashed garments for years, but he remembers it was enough for him to decide that, even though he didn’t understand what it meant when his heart sped up and the tips of his ears started to burn whenever he was around you, he liked looking at you when were clean. He liked being clean.

He remembers the first time you kissed him. He was sat on the bed of your shared room, gritting his teeth as you stitched up a cut on his forehead and berated him for being so careless, being too confident, on one of the jobs his boss had assigned him. He finished the job, of course, his ability to get the job done without fail being the main reason why he was assigned so many assignments in the first place, but it didn’t make you less angry when he walked into the room with bruised knuckles and a large gash on his forehead. He remembers staying silent, breathing through the pain of what was essentially surgery with no anesthesia as your berating slowly died down and he could finally see in your eyes the worry you tried to conceal with anger. He remembers taking your hand in his after you’d finished cleaning up the materials you used to administer first aid, gently pulling you down to sit next to him as your hands reached out and cradled his face, careful not to touch the freshly sewn skin as he slowly leaned in until his lips met yours.

He remembers the first time he had sex with you, how it was nothing short of awkward and clumsy as two teenagers tried to figure out what goes where and how to do this and that. You were both each others’ first, that much he knew, and though the first time wasn’t as hot and steamy as everyone had worked it out to be, he still enjoyed it because it was you. He remembers cradling you in his arms that night as you fell asleep, a small smile on your peaceful face, and he made his first silent promise that night: that he’d do anything within his power to keep you safe and happy.

He remembers Farlan and the support he gave as Levi worked his way up to a higher position in the gang’s ranks, inevitably becoming the leader through his skills and hard work (a result of the second silent promise he’d made to himself: that he would work hard and become successful enough that you wouldn’t have to lift a finger to live a decent life.) He remembers taking you out of your small shared bedroom and moving you to an actual house that you could call your own; it was barren and filthy and needed a lot of tender love and care, but it didn’t matter- as long as you were with him, he was home.

He remembers getting his hands on some ODM gear through the black market, training Farlan to become his right-hand man as you stayed within the base and administered first-aid to any member of his gang that needed it. He refused to let you learn how to use the gear, fearing that if you were to be seen doing his dirty work with him then you would become a target of both rival gangs and the Military Police. You didn’t mind, perfectly comfortable with staying at home and handling the more business side of things that involved pay distributions and document blackmails.

He remembers meeting Isabel that fateful day she barged into your home, scaring away the thugs who chased after her and accepting her into the group, your odd little family of dysfunctional orphans now complete.

He remembers spending Christmas Eve with his little family, sitting around the fireplace as you laughed at one of Farlan and Isabel’s stories, hand tightly clutching his as he silently reveled in the peace and happiness he managed to find in the least happy and least peaceful city within the walls. He remembers you telling him to close his eyes as the clock struck midnight, eagerly placing a cardboard box on his hands and apologizing for not wrapping it because you couldn’t afford the wrapping paper anymore, money already spent on the gift itself. He remembers his heart swelling as he opened the box, a beautiful porcelain tea set staring back at him as Isabel and Farlan proudly proclaimed that they also got him a copper kettle and some quality tea leaves to match your gift. He remembers scolding the three of you for spending so much money on such lavish gifts, but you dismissed him and said that it was alright, the little extravagance and months of saving being well worth his present for Christmas and his birthday (which were, coincidentally, the same day).

He remembers the Christmas Eve after that. He remembers the three of you shyly apologizing for not getting him a gift, still recovering from your lavish spending the year before, and he said it didn’t matter because he bought whiskey and cigarettes to share. Faintly, he could still hear Farlan asking him what the hell cigarettes were, and he explained that since the whiskey itself was expensive, he couldn’t afford cigars and instead opted for the cheaper synthetic version of it. He remembers being sat on the roof as you laughed and drank and smoked until sunlight peeked through the gutters on the ceiling of the Underground, clumsily making your way back inside your home to sleep (really, it was mostly you, Isabel, and Farlan who were clumsy. Levi had a high alcohol tolerance and though he grumbled about having to always babysit the three of you when you drank, he always made sure that you were all tucked into bed and snoring away before he himself went to sleep.) He remembers it becoming a tradition for your little family, something that you did every Christmas Eve after that.

He remembers the mysterious nobleman who sat in his little carriage, offering a job to Isabel, Farlan, and himself in return for a generous fee and citizenship to Wall Sina. He remembers rushing home and relaying the news to you as you held his hand, happy that they would be able to go above ground, a privilege that few had. He remembers kissing your forehead and promising to use the money that came with the job to buy you citizenship as well, promising that he would take you above ground and show you the sky. He remembers you crying, tears of joy falling down your face as you kissed him, silently thanking whatever higher being there was that you met Levi.

He remembers his last day in the Underground, gearing up with Isabel and Farlan as they prepared to execute their plan of getting “arrested” by the Survey Corps and taken above ground to finish the job. He remembers your sad eyes and the way you tried to conceal them with a smile, yet he saw right through your act and promised he’d be back for you. He remembers sarcastically asking what souvenir you wanted for him to bring back after the job was done, and you kissed his nose before saying you wanted strawberries, a rare delicacy in the Underground but commonly found above. He remembers agreeing, giving you one last kiss farewell before they set out to do the job.

He remembers sitting on the barracks’ rooftop with Isabel and Farlan, admiring the heavens. He remembers being in awe of how beautiful the moon and stars were, the way they twinkled and shined in the darkness of the night. It was the first time any of them had ever seen the sky. He remembers smiling as he sat between his two closest friends, a feeling of wonder and serenity washing over him as he made another silent promise to himself that night: that he would show you the sky the way he sees it now, with your little family.

He remembers the horror he felt the day after when he rushed back to Isabel and Farlan in the battlefield, finding nothing but Isabel’s severed head and Farlan’s torso on the ground. He remembers the pain, the anguish, the despair that ran through him as he yelled and cried, killing the titan that murdered his friends and ripped away half of his family before collapsing on the ground, realizing that there was no point because he was too late. He remembers Erwin telling him that he knew what he was up to all along, but he was more than welcome to stay in the Survey Corps if he so desired. He remembers agreeing numbly, mind still reeling at his loss. He remembers realizing it had almost been an entire year since he last saw you, but he was too ashamed and in too much grief to come back empty-handed. He had failed the job. He had no money. He had no citizenship for you. And he didn’t have Isabel and Farlan anymore.

He remembers working hard for the next couple of months, realizing that the longer he stayed alive the more money they would pay him. He remembers the day he realized he finally had enough money to buy you citizenship, immediately requesting for time off on Christmas Eve, planning to finally come back to you and fulfill his silent promises. He remembers stopping by the local market, buying a fresh basket of strawberries as an apology for making you wait so long (and also because he still remembered your request), before heading to the Underground the day before Christmas to surprise you.

He remembers feeling nervous yet giddy as he walked to the location of your home, thoughts of finally seeing you for the first time in so long filling up his mind. Nervousness was replaced with worry the closer he got to your home, and he realized that something was horribly wrong. He rushed to the house, fresh bodies littering the front steps as he tried not to step on them. Blood dripped around him, and he knew that whatever happened, happened recently. The door was already open, and Levi wasn’t sure what he was expecting as he cautiously stepped inside but he already feared the worst. Just then, he heard a loud thump followed by a groan coming from your shared bedroom, and Levi rushed inside. He remembers the way his heart stopped at the sight he saw: you, bleeding out on the floor, multiple stab wounds on your abdomen and struggling to breathe. He remembers dropping the basket he held, strawberries scattering around the floor as he rushed to your side, fear turning into panic as he clutched you in his arms.

“Levi,” he remembered you whispering with a weak smile. Your hand reached out to brush a stray strand of hair away from his face. “You came back.”

He remembers scoffing because of course he came back. He promised you he would.

He remembers trying to put pressure on your wounds but not knowing where to start because you had been stabbed so many times and there was only so much he could do since he only had two hands. He remembers you trying to stop him, telling him it was no use. He remembers yelling at you to shut up, okay? You’re not fucking dying on me. Not now. Not ever.

He doesn’t remember crying, however. But he does remember you reaching out once more to wipe at his cheeks, and he was briefly aware that somehow his cheeks had gotten wet. He remembers you holding his hands that were still trying to put pressure on the wounds, begging him to stop, Levi, please. You and I both know it’s no use.

He remembers the unmistakable sound of a grandfather clock’s bell, signaling the strike of midnight. He remembers holding your hand as you weakly looked up at his face, a small smile on your lips as you whispered “Merry Christmas and a happy birthday to you, Levi. I love you.” before your hands fell limp in his.

He remembers collapsing, yelling out your name as he held your corpse in his arms. He remembers shifting, feeling an empty basket bumping against his leg, and he’s suddenly reminded of the strawberries he’d brought as he rushed to gather them all up with shaky hands and put them in the basket once more. “I brought you strawberries, just like you asked.” He remembered saying, pathetically placing it down next to your head. But it was too late. He was too late.

It was gang activity, most likely retaliation. He remembered the Military Police saying. You’re lucky, actually. They left just a couple minutes before you arrived.

He doesn’t remember what happened after that.

But he does remember that he broke all of his promises to you. He remembers that you never even knew that Isabel and Farlan were dead. He remembers that you never even got to see the sky or breathe in the fresh air. He remembers that you never even got to know what strawberries taste like. He remembers that he was too late. For you. For Farlan. For Isabel.

He was always too late.

The feeling of something cold and wet on his cheeks snapped Levi from his reverie. He sat up, silently cursing the snow that fell on his face as his hands wiped at his cheeks, letting go of the bottle of whiskey in favor of blindly looking for the strawberries he’d brought up with him onto the roof. He felt numb. He wasn’t sure if it was due to the cold, the alcohol, the nicotine, or his own heartbreak at the memories he tried to suppress. He never allowed himself any time to mourn, instead choosing to keep all those memories under lock and key somewhere within the dark crevices of his mind, only to be opened on Christmas Eve, the day he lost it all.

The day he lost his entire family.

He shifts, suddenly aware of the small box in his pocket. As he took out and opened the small black velvety box, he noticed more snowflakes had melted on his cheeks, the gold ring staring back at his face for a few moments before he angrily closed it once more and shoved it back inside his pockets, its weight feeling as heavy as his heart.

He was too late.

Silently, Levi realizes that snow wasn’t falling. He realizes that the wet on his cheeks isn’t from the snow melting on his face, but rather, from his own tears as they slowly came down in gentle streams.

The bell tower rang throughout the base, signaling the stroke of midnight. Bitterly, he took a bite of the strawberries as he lied down once more, reaching for the bottle of whiskey.

Merry Christmas and a happy fucking birthday to me.

If you want to be added to the tag list, click this link!

#this was supposed to be fLUFF believe it or not #writing #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #snk x reader

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

Text

Secrets & Lies

Your brother's best friend has been asked to pick you up from college after your brother's car broke down - you've not met Jim before now, but you were keen to get to know him more.

Taglist: @queenshelby @margoo0 @cloudofdisney @peakyscillian @ntmynouis

Warnings - smut.. a lot.. outdoor sex.. virgin reader

A request from @noctvrnalmoth

*************************************************

"Thank you so much for the ride home, Jim, really appreciate it." You smiled at the driver as you pulled up outside your parents house.

"No problem at all y/n, it was nice to finally meet you, your brother has told me so much about you." You and Niall were really close, despite the 10year age gap. When you were younger you didn't get along at all, but when your parents divorced three years ago, shortly before your 15th birthday, you'd moved in with him and his girlfriend Ilona and become closer, finding you had more in common than you thought. Your mother and you never got along, your father couldn't take you in as he worked away so much, but your older brother welcomed you with open arms, without question.

"I don't understand why he's never introduced us before, I've met all his other friends?"

"Yeah, strange. But at least I've met you now." He smiled, making you blush. There was no mistaking he was very attractive, but he was your brother's friend - with those eyes and that floppy brown hair, he had the pick of anyone he wanted, what would he want with an inexperienced 17year old like you?

"I guess I'll see you at your birthday party, right?" You smiled again, your brother had arranged a house party for your 18th birthday this weekend. Your parents were no longer around - mum had packed up and gone to live with her toyboy in London, your father had turned to drink following the divorce and sadly passed away following a binge, driving his car into the wall of the local supermarket.

You nodded and got out of the car, feeling a little giddy but holding it together enough not to let it show.

The party was in full swing - your 18th, surrounded by those you loved the most. Only Niall was blood family, but you considered your combined group of friends to be your adopted family - you'd all known each other for years, and you adored them. Except Jim. You couldn't work out why your brother had never introduced you to him before, but you'd met now, and you were excited to get to know him better.

"Happy Birthday y/n," his thick Irish accent pulled you from your daydream as you turned to face him. He kissed your cheek and handed you a small gift bag. Thanking him, blushing, you placed it on the kitchen counter with the others and you each poured yourselves a drink from the punch bowl Ilona had made that afternoon.

"You didn't have to, thank you so much Jim."

"Can't let your 18th birthday go by without a gift now, can I? Enjoying the party?"

"It's amazing - I think a few of my friends are a touch worse for wear already!" You laughed watching your friend Becky try to walk to the bathroom - looking remarkably like a duck with a limp...

"Yep, she's not gonna feel good in the morning! You seem to be stone cold sober? It's your birthday!"

"I'm not a big drinker and I know my limits - slow and steady, wake up fresh as a daisy." You winked at him and his lips turned up slightly to smile at you.

"You like slow and steady then?" He leaned forwards to whisper in your ear and you felt an unrecognisable feeling in the pit of your stomach, it felt like a hot coil turning and you couldn't help but bite your lip. Jim smiled at the reaction he gave you, and winked. "I'll see you later, y/n." What the hell was that? Was that flirting? Was he coming on to you?

"Don't even think about it y/n..." You brothers voice suddenly snapped you out of your daydream. You took a deep breath and smiled.

"Think about what, Niall?"

"He's off limits. He's 29 in a few weeks y/n, waaay too old for you!!" You scoffed.

"How olds Ilona, Niall? Isn't she nearly 35?" You giggled.

"You're barely 18, y/n, he's pushing 30! No way am I letting him anywhere near my baby sister." You rolled your eyes.

"I'm not a baby anymore, I'm an adult now - a proper one! It's all official n shit.." you smirked. You'd been older than your years since the divorce, but you loved playing childish around your older brother.

"Y/n please - you deserve so much better than him okay? He's not worthy of you."

"And why not Niall? Huh? Give me one good reason why not."

"All he's after is a fuck, and a fuck off. He'll just break your heart, okay? He's never held down a serious relationship with anyone, he doesn't know how." He was whispering now, so no one else could hear him. "He's had more one night stands than I've had hot dinners, and I'm not prepared to let my sister become another of his conquests." You looked at Niall, he was serious. A look of worry etched all over his face.

"And this is why we've never met?"

"Exactly why. You're a young, impressionable, attractive girl y/n - you deserve the world on a plate. All he can offer you is likely to be something you'd need antibiotics to get rid of." You chuckled at his humour.

"Okay, okay... I'll keep my distance. I promise."

The party was drawing to a natural close, lots of drunk people but all in good spirits - dozens of cheek kisses, hugs, and happy birthday wishes later, it was you, Niall, and Ilona left at the end. Niall and Ilona were already snoring on the sofa. You sat in silence watching the movie Niall had chosen before they fell asleep drifting yourself, when the door suddenly knocked you awake. Groaning, you made your way to the door and were surprised to see Jim stood in the doorway.

"Sorry y/n.. left my phone!" You let him in to look for it.

"Want me to ring it?" You offered, taking your phone from your jeans pocket. He dialled his number and listened for the ring. Hearing it in the kitchen, he went to pick it up before coming back to you in the hallway.

"You're a star, thanks y/n! I'll see you soon, yeah?" He handed you your phone back and you couldn't help but feel the electricity surging through you when his fingers brushed yours.

"Get home safe, yeah?" You opened the door to let him out. He maintained eye contact with you as he walked out the door. "Player..." You mumbled. "Hot player... Damn fine, sexy player.. but still a player." You made a promise to your brother and you were determined to keep it.

Leaving college the following Monday, your phone pinged with a message.

"Hey, great party on Saturday - hope you weren't too hungover the next day! Jim xx" you heart lurched.. how did he - ah wait, the missing phone... Probably used that trick dozens of times. You deleted the message and put your phone back in your bag. You won't play me, Jim, you thought to yourself, suddenly smiling at the control you were taking in this situation. It was clear he was attracted to you, and you couldn't deny you were attracted to him too - but there was no way you were going to let him fuck and run with you. You'd never gone that far with anyone before, your first time wasn't going to be a one night stand.

**********************************************

3 years later....

"Niall!!" Your brother was waiting on the platform for you with Ilona and their newborn baby. You were so excited to see them - you'd been in England at university and you were finally home, your degree finished, and now meeting your niece for the first time. Your brother swept you up in a massive hug and Ilona held up baby Emily in her arms. You placed your bag on Niall's shoulder smirking, and took the tiny baby from Ilona, cooing over her.

"Oh she's beautiful... She's just perfect..." Choking back a sob as the little one gripped your little finger in her tiny hand. Ilona wiped a tear from her eye.

"So glad to have you home!! Come on, let's get back to the house and you can tell us all about it!"

"So how's things been here?" You asked once you'd settled back at home, your brother pouring you a glass of wine. Ilona feeding Emily in the armchair in the window.

"Same old same old - although it appears your old crush has settled down nicely now!" You choked on your wine as your brother smirked at you.

"What crush??"

"Oh come on y/n, everyone knew you fancied Jim, it was only because your brother put a veto on him that you didn't act on it!" Ilona chuckled. You felt your heart sink a little at the news.

"Settled down? I thought he was the biggest playboy in Dublin?"

"Apparently he's put it all behind him - been with Danielle for about 8 months now, seems to be going well." Niall eyed you, watching for a reaction. He knew the two of you had exchanged texts years ago, your better judgement getting away from you after your initial reluctance at first. Nothing more than a few flirty texts, as you'd left soon after to attend Leeds University studying Law. You'd bagged yourself a new job at a law firm back home in Dublin following your outstanding Degree results, and started the following week. The messages between you had dried up after you'd left home, clearly he'd lost interest now you weren't as physically accessible as before.

"Good for him. I'm glad he's sorted himself out." You smiled, hiding the sadness in your eyes as best you could. Regardless of the time that had passed and the certainty that he would have broken your heart had you let him, you still held a torch for him deep down inside.

Niall knew you better than to pry further, so he left it alone, and you spent the rest of the day chatting about your uni experience, and cuddling your baby niece. You'd be living back with Niall until you had enough saved to buy your own place - they'd left your room as it was before you'd left, but they'd need it for the baby before long.

Your girlfriends were so excited to finally have you home, they'd arranged drinks at Murphy's Bar in the city centre that evening to welcome you back. Walking in, they all screamed your name and you were suddenly drowning in hugs from all 4 of them. After settling in a booth, you were all catching up on the last 3 years - you hadn't come home much while you were away as in between classes you'd been working as a clerk at a law firm building your experience. Time off had been limited, but you were home now, looking forward to making up for lost time.

"Oh you will not believe who's just walked in here..." Your friend Kim nodded at the bar a few hours after you'd arrived. Stood at the bar, you noticed his dark hair first, then his eyes when he turned round to lean against the bar, his beer being poured. He didn't look happy, but you still felt a warm glow in your stomach as he suddenly caught you looking over. You saw him take a breath and smile warmly at you, and that glow burned a little brighter. You made your way over to him, smiling gingerly and he gave you a warm kiss on the cheek.

"Long time y/n, how've you been?" He smiled before asking the bartender to add your next drink to his tab.

"Busy, finished uni last week and I start my new job next week so catching up with everyone this weekend. How are you? I hear you're doing well, with Danielle now, right?" He looked to the floor.

"Yeah, I guess."

"You guess? Ilona said you guys were practically married!" You laughed, but he didn't.

"Yeah. So where are you working?" You chatted about your new job as a paralegal in Holland & Taylor's Law Firm on Dublin's high street, and he smiled, eyes never leaving yours. Suddenly, he ordered 2 shots for the pair of you, and raised a toast. "To you, y/n, and the success you absolutely deserve." You were already fairly tipsy, but you never refused a shot. You both knocked it back and he ordered another two.

"Jim I think I've had enough, but thank you..." Jim smiled at you.

"Still know your limits huh? Fair enough, I'll drink yours." You saw pain in his eyes again.

"Jim stop.. what's going on? Are you okay?" He knocked both shots back.

"Since when did you care? Fucked off to the UK, didn't even tell me you were going, just did one. I thought we were onto something, I wanted to get to know you better, then one morning poof! You were gone?"

"Jim come on, it was a few texts! We had a cheeky flirt - no doubt I was one of a dozen girls in your phone, it was years ago! Come on now?" He laughed, the drink taking a hold and he stumbled slightly. You turned and headed back to your friends at the booth.

"Girls, carry on without me, I'll catch up later. I need to make sure he gets home safe..." They knew better than to argue - you'd always had a soft spot for someone in need of help. They nodded and headed to the next bar, you'd catch them later once you'd got Jim home. "Come on," you said, hooking an arm under his and wrapping his arm over your shoulder.

As the air hit you both, you felt him stand next to you.

"I'm sorry I snapped... I didn't... I'm sorry." He sat on a bench by the taxi rank, sobering up.

"Hey it's me who should be sorry Jim. I should have stayed in touch, it was just so busy with uni and work.. but I'm home now yeah? We can catch up?" A taxi pulled up outside the bar and Jim stood, making his way to get in.

"My head's a fucking mess y/n.." He paused, standing in the open door of the cab.

"Jim? What's happened?" Without thinking, you found yourself getting in the car with him as Jim gave the driver his address.

"Found out she was fucking around with her colleague. She doesn't know I caught them. Went to her flat this afternoon, finished work early, and saw them upstairs through the window, all over each other, bending her over the bed I fucked her in last night." He grimaced at the memory of it. "This is karma, isn't it? For all those times I screwed around years ago... Fucking deserve it I guess." You noticed a tear falling down his cheek and you took his hand gently.

"Jim, no one deserves this.. yes you played around when you were younger but no more than any other single lad in Dublin!"

"Yeah I wasn't always single when it happened y/n. I was a dick, a complete dick. I'm not destined to be happy, and that's fine. I can live with it. Clearly better suited to being an eternal bachelor eh?" The taxi pulled up outside the flat he shared with another friend, and you helped him out the car and up the stairs, telling the taxi driver you'd be back in 2 minutes once you'd made sure Jim was inside safe.

His arm over your shoulder felt nice, you couldn't deny that, and you both staggered up the steps while he fumbled in his pocket for his keys.

"Thanks for taking me home y/n.. really appreciate it. I'm sorry I'm a wreck."

"Hey it's fine okay? Let's just get you inside, yeah? Get to bed and you'll be fine." He paused after opening the door and you felt your cheeks burn. He was definitely sober now, but his eyes were burning into yours. Without thinking, you leaned forwards and caught his lips in your own, before pulling back quickly. He caught your hips and pulled you back against him, pulling you inside as you kicked the door closed behind you. You tried to pull away, but your body was screaming for him - three long years of fantasising about this moment, you couldn't stop now even if you wanted to. Crashing onto the sofa, he pulled you into his lap, hands roaming up your back as he pulled away from the kiss quickly.

"Y/n, do you want me to stop?" You shook your head.

"Don't you dare.. but..." He held back slightly. But?

"You okay?"

"Danielle..."

"I've already sent her a text telling her to go to hell and her fuck buddy too. It's over, y/n." He ran his fingers through your hair.

"Okay.. but.. don't laugh okay?" He lifted you off his lap and sat you on the sofa next to him.

"I promise."

"I'm.. I've never.. I'm still a virgin Jim..." His eyes widened in shock.

"Wow.. really? But you're beautiful y/n... No one has ever.." you blushed, feeling embarrassed at his compliment.

"Just never got round to it I guess... Work and uni.. busy.. few dates here and there but I never really took a shine to anyone enough for them to be my first.."

"We should stop... It isn't that I don't want you, I do, but not like this.."

"I want you Jim... It's always been you.. since that day in the car? I've never wanted anyone else.. I sound like a crazy stalker don't I," you rolled your eyes and laughed, making your way to stand and leave. "I should get back, my friends are waiting. I'll see you soon yeah?" He watched you move to the door and pulled your hand so you fell back onto the sofa with him.

"Your brother will kill us both for this..." He moaned into your mouth as you kissed him, back in his lap, you could feel how hard he was under your legs.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?" He chuckled at your response. This was going to be fun. You teased, grinding your hips against his and stood up, leaving him speechless on the sofa. "My numbers the same - call me, yeah?" He nodded, watching your body sway out the door.

********************************

He picked you up from work Friday afternoon, around a week later. Your texts becoming increasingly heated over the last few days, you were excited to jump in the car. You felt like a giddy teenager again, sneaking round behind your brother's back.

"Where did you tell him you were going?" Jim asked as he pulled away, heading towards the hotel on the outskirts of Dublin.

"Said I was staying at a friend's house in Cork for the weekend - he doesn't have her number, it's a 'new' friend I've invented that I met at uni. We're safe for a couple of days." You felt nervous. Excited, but still nervous. The text exchanges between you making it clear exactly what you both wanted, and when he said he'd take you away for the weekend, you had been online and bought something especially for the occasion - wearing it underneath your smart work clothes.

"Sounds perfect - you okay? You're sure you wanna do this? It's not too late y/n.."

"Shut up and drive, Jim."

Pulling outside the hotel you gasped. It was beautiful.. out in the sticks, completely secluded, you couldn't wait to get inside. The room was laid out beautifully, and the view from the window went on for miles - green countryside, the flowers in the grounds blooming, farm animals off to the distance.. idyllic. He placed your bags in the corner and walked over to you, snaking his arms round your waist from behind.

"You look amazing..." He pressed his lips against your neck as you tilted your hair back, pushing your backside against his hardening erection. Considering your inexperience, you seemed to know exactly what you were doing - it's like your body was taking over. He pushed forwards against you, letting out a soft growl.

"I promise I'll take it slow y/n.. so gentle.. I've wanted you for years, I'm not gonna mess this up now.." you turned your body round to face him.

"I trust you - I do. I'm just nervous.." he kissed your worries away and pulled you down with him onto the chair into his lap. "I want to to have me, right here, right now... Please Jim..." You ground your hips against him, and he gasped at the friction. You stood up, and pulled the wrap-around dress you were wearing off, letting it fall to the floor. You smiled as his expression changed, seeing you stood in the lacy, navy blue lingerie, complete with thigh high stockings. He pulled you back into his lap and kissed you again, this time his hands roaming over your breasts slowly, moving down lower across your hips, and over your toned thighs. He looked up at you, before teasing his fingers over the lace thing covering your burning core.

"Can I?" He questioned, still in shock that you'd chosen him to do this. You nodded, lifting yourself up slightly to grant him easier access. He slipped a finger between your wet lips, bringing some moisture up to circle around a bundle of nerves at the top - you shuddered when he found it, and gasped when he put pressure on it.

"Relax.. this will feel good, I promise.." he noticed your tension and realised just how inexperienced you were - this was all new to you, all of it... He continued circling with his fingers as you rocked on his hand, his fingers driving you insane.

"This... Jim... Oh god that feels good... What... Oh...." You had no control now, his fingers circling a little harder as you threw your head backwards gasping for air.

"You're gonna cum y/n... Let it happen, just relax baby..." You gasped again, feeling an unfamiliar burning coil in the pit of your stomach. Rocking your hips involuntarily against his hand, you felt it. A white hot release, accompanied by a loud cry from your lips as your breath caught in your throat. You felt your core soak him, and blushed as he brought his now wet hand back up to lick the juices from them.

"You taste good baby.. I'm getting a first hand taste of this later.." your breath returning to normal now, you lifted your still pulsing body off his lap and sank to the floor between his knees.

"How about we take care of this first?" You pulled his jeans down, he lifted his body up to help and you bit your lip as his hard cock sprung out from them.

"It'll be fine y/n... Trust me?" You nodded, before he took your hand to wrap it around the base of his shaft, before moving it up and down slowly. You felt your core twitch again as he moaned gently, now releasing your hand to let you carry on.

"Do you want me to go faster?" He nodded down at you, and you tightened your grip slightly, moving your hand up and down a touch quicker. A flash of inspiration, and you suddenly moved your mouth over his cock taking him by surprise.

"Fuck y/n... Oh god..." You were doing something right... his balls twitched as you rolled them around your hand slowly, your mouth sucking lightly on his cock. "Harder, y/n..." You complied and took him down your throat a little further, sucking a little harder. His fingers in your hair now, guiding your head up and down. "That's it... This is so good but y/n.. if you carry on it ends here babe..." You smiled removing him from your mouth. He pulled you down on top of him again.

"I want you to control this - it's yours for the taking y/n... Reaching down to his jeans pocket, he grabbed a condom. Pulling it over his cock, he lifted your hips over him and eased you down slowly. "Go slow... Take your time okay.. stop when you need to.." you felt him enter you slowly as you gently brought your hips down. Pausing every few seconds as you adjusted to his size. You suddenly stopped, feeling a barrier...

"I need to break past this, okay? Relax for me..." Bringing a hand back to your clit, he rubbed gently as he spoke softly. "Relax... You feel so good y/n... Wrapped round me... I'm gonna make you feel so good..." Without warning he thrust his hips up taking your breath away, and you fell onto him taking him fully inside you. He held you close as you caught your breath, the pain beginning to subside, replaced by a full and pleasurable warmth inside you.

"Move those hips against me y/n... Like we're dancing..." You did as he asked and gasped at the feeling of pleasure coursing through you. Every movement of yours met by a gentle thrust up from him, making you moan against him.

"This... Fuck this feels good Jim..." Your hips moved faster now as he leaned forwards slightly to kiss the base of your throat, his hands roaming over your still-covered breasts under the lace bra.

"Need more of you..." He stood up, lifting you off him and carrying you to the bed, laying you down on your back and spreading your legs wide. "I'm gonna fuck you y/n.. just like you wanted..." Your core spasmed at his words, fuck this was turning you on... He moved over you and entered you again, this time harder. He brought one of your legs up against his chest and rocked his hips back and forth. You moaned loudly, hands gripping the headboard behind you as that feeling coiled up again inside. He could feel it too, and brought his thumb down to massage your clit hard. Stars now - shit you swore you even saw a fucking unicorn at one point - your orgasm washing over you as you came hard against him, his fingers and cock taking you to highs you'd never been to before but desperately wanted to see again.

"Fuck y/n...." He suddenly stilled, panting your name as his own climax overtook him, filling the condom inside you. Slipping out, disposing of it, he lay down next to you and pulled you close to him.

"That was amazing Jim.... Thank you..."

"It gets easier y/n.. next time will be better.." you smiled, better than that?? Now you were intrigued..

"I want to experience it ALL with you... Show me everything... Show me what I've been missing..." You looked up at him as you lay on his chest.

"Everything? You sure you can cope with that?" You nodded. "Buckle up baby, we're not leaving this room all weekend..."

********************************

He was bringing out a side of you you didn't know existed - and you loved it. The thrill of the secret, the excitement of the fact no one knew but the two of you.. it was a constant turn on for you. He'd taken you away for sex-filled weekends away, where he'd introduced you to different positions, different toys, bringing you both a new level of climax every time. He stunned you with his stamina, often making you cum at least three times before he did.

Your brother had invited him and a few others round for drinks and a games night one evening, the first time you'd been in each others company around other people since your first encounter six months ago. You'd spoken about making your relationship public a few times, but the opportunity never arose. You'd have to really hold back tonight if you were to keep your feelings for each other a secret.

After winning against him in Monopoly for the second time after he demanded a rematch, you headed to the kitchen to top your drink up. He followed a minute later.

"This is fucking impossible y/n... You know how many times I've wanted to bend you over that table?" He sneaked up from behind and breathed in your ear, pressing himself against your back. You bit your lip and pushed your hips against him, before turning to kiss him quickly before anyone saw you.

"You'll have to wait til this weekend Jim... Only another week..."

"I don't think I can wait much longer... Fuck I want you so bad..."

"Drink up. I've only had one. You're drunk, and you need a ride home, don't you now?" He smiled, getting the idea. He knocked his drink back and staggered into the living room

"I think I've had enough lads, beers gone straight to my head! Should've had food before coming over..." He was a cracking actor, you thought, almost convinced you!

"I'll drive him home, a taxi will cost a fortune and I've only had one. I'll be back soon okay?" Your brother eyed you suspiciously but you just smiled and guided a 'drunk' Jim out the house to your car.

"When are you moving out y/n? This sneaking around is getting really tricky...

"I get the keys next month, not long now and we'll have our own space to do as we please yeah?"

"Pull over..." He growled, and you pulled into a quiet side road leading to the beach in the distance. Leaning over to kiss you, he placed a hand over your thigh, parting it slightly before gripping you hard under your skirt between your legs causing you to gasp.

"Here??"

"No, keep driving until we're at the beach... About time we had sex in the dunes..."

"What? I'm not going there with you now, it's the middle of winter!!" Despite your protest, you still found yourself driving to the dunes anyway, his hand still between your legs, then pushing past your underwear to tease you as you drove. You tried to focus on the road ahead, but his fingers were making it difficult...

"Wanna make you scream my name on the sand baby..." Was the car getting hotter?

Rocking your hips against him as he thrust up to meet you, you found yourself riding him hard on the sand, gasping and moaning with each thrust.

"That's it... Ride it... Come on..." You paused for a second.

"What's wrong?" He held your legs and questioned softly.

"My legs are freezing!!!" You both laughed.

"Do you wanna stop?"

"God no..." Your hips moved again riding him faster this time - you needed this to end quickly before frostbite set in. "I'm gonna cum Jim.... Do it with me..."

"Cum on my cock y/n... Let me feel it..." Taking his hands in yours, you leaned back slightly and rode him hard, your organs flooding you as he came deep inside you. Condoms gone now you were on the pill. You felt him fill you up, before both of you started to laugh at what had just happened.

"Shit... Jim we've been gone an hour, my brother's gonna kill me!"

You both scrambled to get dressed, thinking up excuses as to why you were so late getting back.

"So you broke down..." Niall questioned when you finally made it home.

"Yep. Lucky he knows how to change a tyre eh!"

"And you broke down by the beach, did you?" You paused, what did he say? "You've got sand in your hair, and a dune reed too... Right - what's going on y/n?" You stumbled slightly.. shit - thought you'd brushed all that out...

"I um.. look it's not how it looks Niall..." Your brother's eyes flashed angrily.

"I fucking knew it... I'll kill him!" He flew out the door enraged, and you heard the car pull off the driveway. You followed, grabbing your keys, before Ilona stopped you.

"Let him go - Jim can look after himself y/n okay? Come on now..." You fell into Ilona's arms and sobbed. You knew this day was coming, but it was meant to be when on your terms, not like this.

"We didn't mean to hide it Ilona... We just knew what the reaction was going to be, and we were scared... I know he's got this playboy image, and he's a 'scumbag with women' but he's never been anything other than kind, wonderful, loving, and patient with me.. I've completely fallen for him Ilona..."

"And if he feels the same about you, he won't let your big brother get in the way now, will he?" Your phone suddenly rang. You answered, hearing Niall's voice on the other line.

"How long?" He asked, sternly.

"Six months. Give or take... Where are you?"

"I'm on the road outside the house y/n.. I've had too much to drink to drive..." You scoffed at your idiot brother and walked out the door to see him standing by his car on the pavement.

"The hell are you doing Niall? I'm a grown woman capable of making my own decisions!" You were shouting now, but you didn't care.

"He's only in it for the fuck Y/n, that's all!"

"For six months Niall? You think he'd be seeing me for six months if that's all it was about for him? It's more than that, he cares for me -"

"He doesn't care about anyone but himself! Even Danielle saw through his lies! I told you, you're too naive for this!"

"I'm 22 years old Niall, I'm not a child anymore!"

"Guys stop before you wake Emily!! Come inside and calm down yeah?" Ilona ushered you both inside, dying of embarrassment, hoping the neighbours hadn't heard you.

"Niall think about it - have you ever seen Jim as relaxed and happy as you have recently?" Ilona brought the three of you a coffee each and you sat round the table. Niall had to admit Ilona was right. He had noticed a change in Jim just lately. A positive one - he did seem happy..

"And have you ever seen y/n as happy as she has been just lately? How did you not see the connection?" Ilona smiled at you, almost smirking.

"You knew?" Niall gasped at her, stunned.

"Oh come on, you knew too... Those stolen glances when they thought we weren't looking? The weekends they were both away at the same time, but apparently not together? Are you really that blind Niall?"

Your phone ringing interrupted the silence in the room. Jim's number flashed on your phone on the table. Niall looked at you and took your phone into the kitchen. He wanted to talk to Jim away from you.

"He's gonna shout isn't he..." Your head fell into your hands, Ilona reaching a hand over to squeeze your shoulder.

"He's had his suspicions for a while y/n.. he won't shout. He doesn't want to wake Emily. He's disappointed you didn't tell him, that's all. You're still his little sister, and that's his best friend. He doesn't want him to hurt you."

"He hasn't hurt me, he's completed me... I haven't felt this way for anyone before.. I'm sorry we kept it from you.."

"Oh please, I've known something was going on for months and so has Niall, he's just refused to believe it." Ilona giggled. She thought it was brilliant - Jim needed someone like you to ground him, and it appeared to be working well for both of you.

"He's coming over tomorrow." Niall re-entered the room, sullen. "I can't stop the two of you seeing each other, as much as it pains me.. but I'd rather have a conversation with you both in person, together.. you okay with that y/n?" You nodded, smiling a little. No going back now.

The following day, Jim was sat next to you on the sofa, your brother sat opposite you on the armchair. Ilona watching from the dining room with Emily feeding her.

Silence.. for the longest time, before Jim broke it.

"This is silly.. you just gonna sit there looking at the floor making your sister nervous Niall?" You rested your hand on his knee.

"Niall... Please listen okay.. we didn't mean to go behind your back -" you started but Niall cut you off.

"It's okay. It's okay. I've had time to think about it all.. and.. it's okay."

"What??" Jim looked up at your brother, stunned. He was expecting a slanging match, not this..

"Ilona was right. You two have had a certain spring to your steps just lately, and it's clearly due to this 'thing' you have going on.. I'd be a fool to stand in the way of that.." you stood up, and pulled your brother to his feet to embrace him. He hugged you back, before pulling back to turn to Jim.

"You hurt her, and I'm coming for you, understand?" Jim gulped a little and nodded.

"Agreed - but it won't happen Niall. Your sister would rip my balls off before you even got close." He smiled, the tension now officially gone between them.

"Also agreed. Are we all good lads? Niall, you satisfied your alpha male complex?" Ilona came into the room laughing holding Emily, who was reaching out for you. You took your niece and blew a raspberry on her neck making her giggle. Jim watched you both, smiling.

"You are NOT knocking my sister up Jim, get that thought out your head right now!" Niall pointed at Jim's doe eyes and you laughed.

"Don't worry, we've had enough surprises to last a while, Niall."

#cillian smut #jim delinquent season x y/n #delinquent season #cillian x reader #cillian x smut #cillian x fem!reader

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huihuiheart · 3 years

Text

Spiked - Minho

Part of @clandestine-lixie ‘s Smutmas Collab and a great excuse to get some more Minho on my page!

Summary: It’s pretty much tradition at this point that Changbin spikes the eggnog at the annual Christmas party. What happens though when secrets slip through drunk lips and aren’t forgotten the next morning? At least not forgotten by the very person you confessed to.

Pairing: Minho x F! Reader

Warnings: Drinking (not drunk when having sex), drunken confessions?, cursing, some angst in the beginning, smut, lovemaking, unprotected sex (stay safe kids), oral (f! receiving), lots of petnames, moments where Minho is kinda smug, lots of praise, it’s sugary sweet, mild sir kink for a moment, fingering, some playful teasing.

I sincerely apologize but I haven’t had time to edit this yet, so...please excuse any errors and stuff I’ll be getting to those when I have some time. I wrote over half of this today with a migraine so we’re working on fumes here. Also if something seems off I apologize, I’ve never celebrated the holidays before so I honestly don’t know what Christmas is like....sorry.

Word Count: 4,992

“Awe don’t tell me you’re already finished taking bets? I haven’t even got mine in on how long before Changbin tries to get us all drunk.” You tease the rambunctious group in the living room as you remove your shoes by the door. Christopher joining you a moment later to help you with your coat, hanging it up for you as he often did.

“Hey, don’t look so glum. Felix was just getting to the interesting wagers now anyways. Bets of any kind are in Minho’s care this evening. Gifts for tomorrow morning under the tree as always.” Chris caught you up with where the ever excitable boys had already impatiently gotten up to, before stepping away with your coat so you could join the others.

“So what did I just miss then? You know the topic that had you all in a giggle fit?” You raise a brow as you claim a spot in their circle, between Minho and Hyunjin.

“Oh we were just discussing the last bet. Not that you’d be able to participate anyways seeing how it was about you.” Jisung smirks wickedly until you match his gaze with your own that was just as devious, making him fold in an instant, or so you think, “Just betting on whether we thought you’d stay the night or not this year.”

“That’s not interesting though, I stay practically every year cause I’m too drunk to go home alone and none of you will take me.” You chuckle shaking you head, “ A better bet would be who will get drunk the fastest, my money’s on Hyunjin.”

Minho took your bet money counting it out before the other boys made their wagers too, writing them all down as more and more bets danced through your group. Both those typical for the Christmas party and those unique to this year for whatever reason. Debates starting up over a few of them as they always did.

“No I’m telling you Y/N will be the first one to admit it. She always gets loose lipped when she drinks.” Jisung teases despite the validity of his statement, something you’ve proven true to them at more than just the previous Christmas parties.

“Still who she likes is the secret she guards more than anything else, she’d have to be so shitfaced for that to come out it would be ridiculous!” Changbin counters, “ My money is on Felix, he was practically giving it away unprompted last year. It wouldn’t be too hard to get it out of him if we really tried.”

“Maybe that’s just cause Y/N doesn’t trust some of you to keep your mouths shut.” Christopher shrugs as he takes a seat, though all eyes are on him not because of the motion, but because of his words. Giving away that you had already confessed your crush to at least one person in the room.

“Wait. So you told him, but you didn’t tell me? What do we even gossip for? Let I’m lowkey offended right now.” Hyunjin whines used to being your partner in crime when it came to exchanging secrets about your group, even the things you’d never tell anyone else. Trusting the other to lock it down tighter than even their own secrets, even if you exploited that information at times. Like when Hyunjin conveniently ended up paired with his crush for every game of the spring break party.

“In my defense I was distraught and looking for you when it slipped. Chris was just the only one around, so he’s the one who got that information.” You counter knowing there wasn’t any taking it back at this point anyways, Hyunjin barely accepting your answer with a grumble. You were somewhat glad that it was the case though, he’d surely exploit the information tonight if he had it. In this case you should be safe, or so you thought before you noticed the subtle smirk on Christopher’s face before he glanced between you and the very crush you’d revealed to him....Minho.

“Hey, the boys sent me to see if you needed any help.” Minho steps into the kitchen watching as you moved to pull something out of the oven. Most of the food had already been prepped before you arrived so you offered to be the one to actually cook it. This being the fourth time in an hour and a half that Minho had been sent to check on you, each time he showed up besides you though he announced himself with those same words....the boys sent me. Them digging a little deeper into your heart whenever you’d hear them again. It implying that that he never actually chose to come to you of his own will, only coming to you since the boys told him to.

“I’m fine Minho. You can go back to the others.” Your words were sharper than you intended and it nearly made you wince, even if he didn’t return your feelings he was still your friend and you shouldn’t be so harsh to him. Sometimes your feelings managed to rear their ugly head before you could stop them though, something you’d feel regret for later

“Rose....your thorns are showing again.” Minho’s gentle voice says the familiar phrase as he moves to stand at your side. His nickname for you with a subtle announcement of the fact that your emotions were slipping out quicker than you often registered, something he always managed to stay calm through no matter how snappy you sometimes got, “I don’t know what riled you up, and I don’t have to. You should go take a minute to calm down though. I’ll watch the food.”

The way he spoke to you was enough to calm you down enough to regain your composure, but not wanting to be so close to him and unintentionally get worked up again you conceded. Slipping outside into the frigid air for a few moments to collect yourself before finding the others in the living room again, sitting besides Christopher now.

“The eggnog spiked yet?” You question with a soft sigh as you lean against his shoulder, causing him to chuckle and nod, “Good, cause I’m going to need a drink to make it through the night.”

“You drunk yet Y/N?” Changbin teases as he pours you another glass. Internally cursing him out, he knew damn well he put something stronger in the eggnog this year without any warning. Knowing that you and Felix at least would try to keep up with everyone else despite being two of the light weights of the group. The others in that category smart enough to stop before they could make a fool out of themselves, even accidentally.

“Not drunk enough to lose to Felix or spill any secrets yet, if that’s what you’re asking.” You call him out, brow quirking as if to challenge him to tease you again. The alcohol buzzing through your system making you more confident in challenging them, even if it slowed your wit slightly.

“Nah just wondering if you’re drunk enough to at least confess you’re spending the night? Well officially anyways. We thought of a way to determine who you’re going to stay with tonight.” Changbin brings his own glass to his lips, hiding his smirk knowing that Christopher had come to him and Hyunjin with a plan to rig it so that you’d end up with Minho.

“Fine, I’ll confess to that.” You chuckle not catching onto their schemes, “So how are we figuring it out then? What’s your big, genius plan?”

The sarcastic way you’re carrying yourself makes Hyunjin snicker, leaning towards Christopher, “Oh if only she knew...” He shakes his head slightly before shaping up, to hide any suspicious acts from you, “Simple, you’re just drawing the name out of a hat. You know the deal though, you only get to pick once and that’s who you’re stuck with.”

“Yeah, I know the deal.” You sit up further waiting for them to bring the hat over, the liquid courage running through you making you feel really good about your odds. It was only a 1 in 8 chance that you’d end up picking Minho, you were most likely safe from your crush. Well the possibility of embarrassing yourself while alone with him anyways. Or so you thought until you managed to pull his name out of the hat.

“Well.....I guess I’m rooming with Minho tonight....”

"Alright I think that's enough for one night." Minho takes the glass from you before you can get it refilled yet again. You'd lost count three drinks ago, hoping you'd get passed out drunk instead of having to face him. Luck wasn't on your side this evening though as Minho still had his wits about him and he refused to let you do something dangerous to your health.

"But Minho, if I'm not drinking what am I going to do?" Your whine is only added to by the small subconscious pout adorning your drunk face.

"We've both had enough and are going to bed now. It's 4 fucking 37 in the morning and you know someone's gonna be waking is up too goddamn early hangover or not. So if you wanna drink something it'll be water on the way to bed." Minho insists moving to help your inebriated form up from your seat on the floor and towards his upstairs bedroom.

"You can use the bathroom, I put some clothes in their for you so you can sleep comfortably." Minho sits on th edge of his bed, pulling out his phone to scroll through seeming almost entirely disinterested as you wobble off to the bathroom. Not getting far though before you have to pull the door open with a blush, your shirt wedged half on with only one arm successfully out.

"M-Minho I got stuck, c-can you help me?" Your words held no room for any hidden implications, especially not when panicked tears started to well in your eyes.

"Hey, it'll be okay. I'm gonna help you and you'll be just fine." Minho coos trying to reassure you, not knowing your panic was partly due to having to face him like this. His warm hands gently in the way they helped untangle you from the shirt you'd somehow managed to get trapped in.

"There you go, all better. Now go get those warm clothes on and get in bed before the cold settles in too much." He insists gently wiping away the last of your tears before you returned to the bathroom.

Silence filled the space when you returned, saying nothing as you switched places with Minho. Sliding into the bed while he was in the bathroom. It wasn't like you'd never slept there before, staying with the boys frequently meant that you'd slept in all their beds at some point but never since your feelings for Minho had developed so much had you stayed in his. Never after you'd felt like you'd embarrassed yourself beyond repair in one evening either. Not realizing you were sniffling with a fresh batch of tears until Minho returned.

"Hey what's wrong rose? You've been upset all day. Please talk to me, we don't like when you're upset." Minho's brow furrows as he uses the paw of his sweater to gently wipe away the tears again.

"I-It's just so hard Minho. I don't know if I keep doing this." You feel exhausted from the alcohol, the excitement throughout the evening, and now an emotional breakdown too and yet you needed to get this off your chest or even that might not be enough to let you get rest tonight.

"What is? What's hard? What can't you do?" Minho asks feeling his heart bleed at your distress even if he was able to stay as calm as he was.

"L-Loving you...."

You had passed out nearly the moment those words had left your lips, but Minho couldn’t, not after your confession. It had been the last thing he’d seen coming after trying not to look desperate to you all day. Yet you’d confessed to him of all people and it weighed too heavily on his mind for the next two hours to even consider getting any sleep. Only getting maybe two hours in before an excited Jeongin bound in to try and wake you both up so everyone could come downstairs for Christmas. Though Minho ensured he never got to you before he shoved him out with hushing sound. Slipping down behind him to grab some water, coffee, and pain meds for when you’d wake up. Telling the boys you’d had a rough night, probably drank too much, and should be left alone to sleep as long as you needed. Not expecting you to already be shifting awake when he returned to the room.

“Hey, you can sleep more if you want. It’s alright.” Minho gently brushes the hair out of your face as your eyes slowly blink open, leaning into the warmth of his touch without realizing, “I brought you meds and coffee if you’re felling hungover.”

You accept his help to sit up and take the meds, willing your fuzzy mind to clear enough to recall what happened the night before, “Minho...d-did I do anything last night? I-I can’t remember.”

Minho froze debating how he should answer that, he wanted to be honest with you, but after seeing how upset you were the night before he didn’t want to embarrass you at all, “W-Well, umm....”

“I-I said something didn’t I?” You could read his face for once, the calm demeanor gone and it telling you something had happened. The way his eyes widened at your question was enough to confirm what you thought as panic bubbled up and made your throat feel tight, “W-Whatever I said I didn’t-”

Minho cut you off by pressing his lips to yours quickly, feeling his own panic, “P-Please don’t say that you didn’t mean it. I think I would die if I lost the hope that you actually loved me back.”

The panic stopped almost instantly, feeling it dissipate as you processed his words, “L-Love you back?....Y-You mean you love me too? B-But you were acting like I was such a bother yesterday.”

Minho sits on the bed, pulling you into his arms before you could cry again, “I didn’t mean for it to come off that way. I-I just didn’t want to look desperate when I couldn’t think of a reason for you to love me too.”

“You’re an idiot, I was literally like so obvious.” You whine softly and he chuckles though his focus seems to shift as his gaze falls to your lips, “You can kiss me again you know....a-after all we both just confessed so it would make sense to...”

Minho’s eyes flick back up to yours as a smirk forms on his face, but he makes no smart comment as he gives in to what both of you are wanting. Leaning in to kiss you again, less panicked this time as his lips softly meld with yours. Though the both of you were pouring too much emotion into it for it to become anything less than desperate. Now that you had each other you needed that more than air itself, it remaining sweet despite the way you both chased after each other as if afraid this would all disappear if you separated for any real stretch of time. You feel the faintest trail as Minho’s hands move from holding you against his chest to cradling your head as he lays you back onto the bed.

“If you want to take things slower then just say so. I-I just don’t want to let you go.” Minho’s voice comes out so light you wonder how you hear it over the beating of your own heart, especially with how it races when his lips press a fleeting trail down your jaw between his words.

“Y-You don’t ever have to slow down Minho, I’ve wanted this.....wanted you for too long to do that now.” You insist with a low moan as his lips press a little firmer against a sweet spot on your neck.

Minho hums against your skin too caught up in you to care about words when he could show you how he felt better anyways. His hands gripping at your sides, thumbs rubbing soft circles as if he’s afraid he’ll break you by being too firm. So you decide to make a larger move, reaching to grip the hem of his sweater and pull it off him, letting your hands and eyes roam his newly exposed skin. The feel of his warm skin beneath your fingertips heating you up inside, the flame of desire flaring up faster than you would have thought possible if the person before you had been anyone other than Minho. Minho’s hands gripping yours before looking up at you for permission, hesitating even as you nod.

“You sure you won’t be too cold?” Minho’s fingers peak under the hem to rub gently at your skin beneath it.

“Well if I am then I guess you’ll just have to warm me up.” Your words seem to light the same fire in Minho as he doesn’t hesitate a second longer to his sweater off you. Hands running over your stomach to squeeze your breasts through the bra, leaning down to kiss you again.

“Guess I will.” Minho speaks against your lips, tone deepening as he lowers again moving to rid you of your bra as his lips trail towards your chest. You nipples pebbling slightly from the frigid air and his advances, but noticing the unpleasant chill that runs through you he presses against you more, letting his warmth radiate onto you. His warm mouth closing around your one nipple as his hand toys with and warms the other, switching between them with a new path of kisses to make sure they get equal attention. Until he gets impatient to show his affections elsewhere and his mouth lowers while adding soft nips between kisses to reach the hem of the sweatpants he gave you to wear. His fingers nimble as they work on the tie, though he doesn’t do more than that until he has permission from you to pull them down and leave you in only your panties.

“Oh the thoughts I had while helping you get untangled from your shirt last night my flower, and to think now a few of them are becoming reality.” Minho places a kiss to your hip, as his hands gently spread your legs, loving the way he’s able to fluster you so easily, “I’ve been dying for a taste and you’re not making it any easier for me. May I?”

The way he drags his thumb over the wet patch of your panties makes it hard to respond when you’re moaning and focused on that surge of pleasure, but the thought of getting something more urges you to form words, “Y-Yes please, I’ve been wanting to feel your mouth.”

“All you had to do was ask precious.” Minho gently blows against the wet patch making you squirm before kissing your thigh and slipping off your panties and lowering himself between your legs, placing the gentlest of kisses to your clit. The way you whine impatiently makes him chuckle against your core only making you squirm, his thumbs rubbing softly against your plush thighs as he grips them firmly to keep them open instead of impeding his work. He has no intent on tormenting you with teasing, not this morning anyways, but he still wants to savor the moment. The way he licks through your folds slow yet firm enough to spark delicious waves of pleasure through you, enough so that you can’t complain too much about his pace. Minho’s tongue and lips working everywhere to get every last drop of you that he can, while also focusing on your reactions to find what makes you feel the best. Knowing that his own patience will wear thin soon enough and he wants to know how to throw you over that sweet edge with more intensity than you thought possible, wanting to make all of you feel as amazing as his heart did upon hearing your confession.

“M-Minho please, I want to feel all of you.” Desperation bleeds into your words and actions as you squirm against his grip, hips trying to roll against his mouth and it has his eyes darkening with a new surge of lust. Nearly giving into you pleas, but you’re his first priority and it has him pulling away slightly making you whimper.

“Shh pretty girl, shh.” Minho coos softly, grip loosening as he runs his hands over your thighs and hips trying to get you to relax some, “Calm down, don’t get so worked up. I’ll give you what you want, I promise. You just need to calm down so that I can get you ready for me. We’ve waited a long time I know, but you can be good and wait just a little longer can’t you?”

This time a simple nod isn’t enough for him as he’s a little firmer with you in this moment, pinching your thigh lightly as he demands your words, “Y-Yes sir, I can be good for you.”

Minho has to take a deep, shuttering breath when he hears the word sir fall from your lips so perfectly, now was not the time to lose control, not when he wanted to show you every emotion he’d had trapped inside for so long. Not when he knew there’d be plenty of time for that later. Yet, it does have him snap a little as he dives between your legs again with more purpose. Lips suckling and kissing your clit like his survival depended on it, eyes locked on your face as he feels your fingers weave into his hair. The soft tug you give has him moaning against your clit, only adding to that pleasure as he eases a finger in, though it’s not long before he’s able to add another. Curling them with each thrust in search of the spot that would have you trembling against him, thriving off the pleasure he’d able to feed you right now, nothing else in the world mattering more than your cries for him and the way you lose yourself to the sensations. He knows he’s found that spot, when you’re clenching around him, practically sucking his fingers in, thighs shaking as your edge hovers so close and yet just barely out of reach.

“Minho, please I’m close. Please make me cum or give me your cock, I-I don’t know how much longer I can wait.” Your pleas sound magical to Minho, it being enough for him to give you what you want, speeding up his fingers as his tongue flicks against your clit as he brings it between his lips again. Willing to throw your over the edge for the first time, so that he can have you losing his own patience as your nails drag lightly over his shoulders. The was you fall apart beneath him is like a work of art, the most beautiful Minho has ever seen as he slips his fingers from your spasming core to gently lick over you and ride you through the pleasure until you come back to him. Kissing you briefly before licking his fingers clean while keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“You’re sweeter than I ever could have imagined my flower.” Minho hums in approval, his smirk almost showing more in his eyes than on his lips. You’re quick to respond though not wanting him to drag it out any longer.

“I bet we’d taste sweeter together, but there’s only one way to find that out now isn’t there?” You purr back as your fingers work to untie his sweatpants, gripping both them and his undergarments to impatiently push both down at once. Freeing his beautiful, hardened length to you finally. Not giving him to to ask for your permission before you rub his tip through your folds, leg locking around his waist to urge his hips closer. Your actions seem to be enough as he places his hands on either side of you, slowly pushing in and leaning in as he gives you a moment to adjust to him.

“You were awfully loud earlier flower, if you don’t quiet down then all the boys will know what we’ve been up to. Do you want that?” Minho’s question is somewhat serious, but it also holds a teasing to it as he’s proud of the fact that he can make you feel good enough to be so loud. You getting him back by rolling your hips against him and earning a groan from him. Hands slipping around his neck to tug him down and tease his lips with your own.

“Why don’t you shut me up then?” Your words are almost daring and they have him crashing his lips messily against yours as his own hips start to move against you. The patience between you both is gone as he finds a quick pace and yet he’s not manhandling or overly rough in his treatment, the erotic scene still one of passionate lovers. Baring their emotions to each other in the most desperate of ways despite not being able to handle a slow pace any longer. It being everything you could have asked for and more, right now you didn’t need the soft, slow lovemaking. You need this the desperate lovemaking, the kind that showed that Minho had been longing for you just as much as you’d been longing for him. The kind that showed that you were his now and that he would show you that in every way possible for as long as you would ask it of him. Where every move he made was to find what made you feel best, because you were what he most cared for in this world and where it was so much better than he could have imagined that he wasn’t sure if he could hold off. Though he was intent on your pleasure coming first as he angled himself to perfectly hit the spots he found brought you the most pleasure with each drag of his cock, thumb rubbing quick circles into your clit as his other hand tangled into your hair to keep your lips pressed against his. Taking in all of your moans as your pleasure explodes once more, the feeling of you cumming on his cock enough to send him spiraling into his own high as he moans into your mouth in response. Slowing his thrusts as he rides you both through your highs. Hands gently tracing shapes over your heated flesh, finding you glowing in the aftermath of your climax.

“Come on my flower, I’ll help you shower before we join the others.” Minho kisses your forehead softly before scooping you up to take you to the bathroom. Getting you in the steaming shower as quickly as he can so that you won’t have to face the cold while bare for too long and so that you two can be quick enough to be able to get some food in before the others ate everything. Not that he wouldn’t cook you up a good breakfast if it came down to it. Willing to shower you in all affections imaginable after what you both had just done. Though before long Minho had you both cleaned up and in warm fresh clothes, going down the stairs to join the others.

“Weren’t you wearing something different this morning?” Jisung questions Minho slyly as if they hadn’t all heard what you two had been up to earlier. Minho knew what he meant, but still didn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Yeah well I took a shower, so I put on something else.” Minho shrugs pulling out a seat for you, before taking his own so you two could eat breakfast as well.

“Oh did Y/N shower too? Her hair is all damp still.” Jisung innocently inquires taking a bite of his pancake trying to hide his smug expression. Minho gently moving your damp hair away from your bare skin so that it wouldn’t get too chilled.

“Well then you obviously know the answer.” Minho rolls his eyes adding his portion of whipped cream and other sweet toppings to your plate instead of his own.

“Hm I just find that interesting considering we only heard one shower running.” Jisung smirks at you both as the others snicker and chuckle, teasing you all through breakfast while exchanging knowing looks.

The teasing had died down some later as you all gathered around to exchange gifts. Feeling your heart stutter as you hold Minho’s in your hands, the man seeming flustered as you go to open it. Finding a small necklace inside one that looked like a lifeline with a heart at the end, flipping it over to find his initials on the back besides yours.

“So if things had been different this would have been when I confessed.” He admits in a soft whisper into your ear, a blush adorning his cheeks so beautifully as you laugh softly.

“It’s alright I liked the way things turned out much better anyways.” Minho admits before the guys pretend to gag and whine at all the pda they were witnessing.

“Alright enough of the mushy stuff, you have to open mine next.” Hyunjin dramatically insists shoving his gift in front of you, a pretty envelope sitting on top and beckoning you to open the card first. Your attention immediately drawn to a special little note at the bottom...

PS. Minho’s name was the only one in that hat.

“Well guess I ruined your little plan huh?” You tease, flustering along with him as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek in front of everyone.

#stray kids #stray kids smut #minho #minho smut #lee know #lee know smut #lee minho #lee minho smut #smutmas

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pixelwisp-archive · 3 years

Text

Circles - Kuroo x Reader

Happy Birthday @larkspyrr♡

Note: since this is a gift for Lark, the reader is coded to essentially look/be more like her. so I’m sorry in advance that it might not be considered gender neutral/be relatable, but majority of my other works are gender neutral!

Genre: fluff fluff fluff

wc: 1.1k

It ended - just like it began - in the library.

It ended with you, looking as radiant as the day he met you, with your hair tied up away from your face; much neater than the haphazard bun you had that Saturday morning four years ago. The sunlight filtered through the arched windows, surrounding you in the same golden halo that always had him wondering if - just maybe - you really were a gift from the gods. Kuroo felt his heart clench at the wobbly smile you gave him, and he made no effort to move away from you when you took his trembling hands into your own.

“So,” you said.

“So,” he echoed.

“This is it,” you whispered, finally, and he wished you saying it out loud made him feel better, but the painful ache in his chest assured him that it did not, in fact, help him feel better at all. He rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand and nodded as a small, wavering hum fell past his lips.

Kuroo's thoughts wandered back to when it all began. He trudged into the library at 7:32am with a coffee in one hand, his phone in the other, and a frown settled deep onto his face. He threw his leather bag onto the table as he grumbled under his breath about how ridiculously early it was, far too early for him to even be conscious, let alone at the local library (and on a Saturday, no less). He had signed up for tutoring sessions; because while he excelled in the majority of his classes, he was - unfortunately - downright foul at poetry; and his professor told him if he wanted any chance at saving his GPA, he'd better make use of the free tutoring services the university offered - and so here he was, at 7:30am on a Saturday morning, looking as haggard as any chemistry major would, absentmindedly flicking through his copy of Poems, Poets, Poetry: An Introduction and Anthology as he anticipated your arrival.

It was 7:43am when you burst through the doors to the library, the books in your arms piled so high it threatened to topple over if you so much as teetered a bit too far. He couldn’t see your face over the leaning tower of textbooks, but he heard you huff and curse under your breath as the doors slammed shut behind you, attracting the unwanted attention of the whopping five people that were currently in the library. He bit back a laugh and made his way over to you, offering a helping hand while you nearly buckled under the weight. You let him take a generous amount of the books out of your hands, soft gratitude tumbling from your lips as you huffed in relief. Kuroo was in the middle of saying “no problem” when the words died in his throat at the sight of you.

Kuroo was never one to believe in love at first sight, but seeing you for the first time - with your flushed face, bright eyes, unkempt bun, and adorable smile - made him understand just what Lev was talking about all the freakin’ time.

You exchanged names, eventually numbers, and he was (probably) the worst student you ever had, because he did nothing but flirt with you the entire time; making bad science jokes, mimicking Shakespeare, crafting various little origami animals and sneaking them into your bag while you tried to explain whatever the hell iambic pentameter was (Kuroo still doesn’t know).

It was a miracle you ever liked him back, let alone dealt with him this long.

Kuroo had been smitten with you since day one. He cherished every time he made you smile, every time he made you laugh, even the moments where he made you cry (’lessons’, he thought, ‘so I can do better next time’). He stood by you through every rough patch, every celebration, every new opportunity. You were with him, too - celebrated with him when he finally got that teaching position at Nekoma, took care of him whenever he got a little too drunk with Bokuto, even grieved with him, during the passing of his grandfather. The two of you still make an effort to visit him with his grandmother. He hopes you know how thankful he is for that.

“Tetsu?” Your soft voice lulls him back to the present day. He clears his throat and shoots you a comforting smile.

“Sorry, I’m here. Was just thinking.”

“About?”

“You,” he admits. “Us.”

Your fingers feel smooth against his. He continues to map out every line, wrinkle, and callous; committing each piece of you to memory. “I’m just gonna miss it, is all.”

You snort - very unladylike, but very much you - and squeeze his hands. “Jesus, Tetsu, you’re acting like we’re breaking up.”

He laughs, his thumb running over the glittering diamond that sat on your ring finger. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant I’ll miss courting you.”

“Courting me? Is it the 1800′s?” Heat creeps up his face as he laughs along to your giggles, the sound music to his ears. Your smile brightens the room, far more than the cathedral ceilings and stained glass windows ever could.

God, he was so goddamn lucky.

You let your giggles falter as you adjust his tie, nodding in satisfaction once it was situated before bringing your hands to cup his face. He leans down, hoping to capture your lips with his one last time as his fiancé, but you press a finger to his lips and back away.

“Hey! No kissing. We already cheated by doing a first look. People are gonna start getting antsy, so you go on. I’ll meet you down there, okay?” You press a chaste kiss to his cheek before turning away, but he reaches out for your wrist and spins you back around.

“I love you. So, so much. You know that?” You smile.

“Promise?” He smiles then, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Promise.” You hum and take a step back, and it was only just then that Kuroo took notice of your dress. He could feel the tears prick behind his eyes as he sends one last wobbly smile your way.

You looked like a dream come true.

The music starts, and both of your faces fall into a panic as you push him toward the door to the main room, where all your friends were waiting with baited breath. He adjusts his tux one last time, and opens the door, before hearing a hushed ‘Hey!’ from the hallway, beckoning him to look back at you one last time.

You grin, grabbing a hold of your bouquet with one hand as you cup your mouth with the other, and whisper just loud enough for him to hear.

“I love you too.”

a/n: Today is Lark’s birthday and what better way to celebrate than some adorable fluff with best boy Kuroo♡ Also, since Kuroo becoming a capitalist is a crime we’ve decided to do him the justice and pretend he became a high school chemistry teacher instead. Eat the rich.😌

This is unedited/unbeta’d because lark is my beta and this was a surprise lmao

Requests are open!

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jae-canikeepyou · 3 years

Text

| letting go | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: angst (i don’t think it’s enough ;-; )

a/n: weeee this was rotting in my drafts for months, it’s not proof read (as always) haha :D

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the strong rush of winds together with falling sharp raindrops were painful, as if multiple arrows were aimed at you by a number of huntsmen— hiding behind woods, camouflaging themselves in order to not reveal their positions.

at this point, the droplets rather felt like hailstones than water. well what difference did it make? they still sliced your flesh like knives even if they were the condensed and frozen forms of liquid.

just as your body froze when you saw him with her.

almost the whole crowd turned heads to your way. looking back, the entire picturesque looked exactly like a bride entering a chapel for her walk at the aisle, except what happened earlier was the total opposite. it looked like you objected the bind of the new couple because believe it or not, whispers from all directions grew and there wasn’t an end to them. they spread so quickly that you didn’t bother to stop them.

you stood right in front of your boyfriend, right at the middle of the dance floor, whom he had his arms around a girl’s waist. to make you respond negatively and hurtfully, his fingers intertwined, not wanting to let her away from his touch.

in the depths of your heart, you hoped he would release her and run towards you in regret of his actions. but given the fact that they continued to sway along with the music like you never existed, it was obvious he was deliberately trying to make you flip off. sober or not, you already familiarised yourself with his habits and mannerisms in the years you’ve been with him. the smirk growing at the girl’s lips confirmed it was her plan, while the look on jaehyun’s face mirrored hers.

he was in for the game he wanted to play.

these whole three years, was there a day he thought about you, cared for you, or even loved you? did you actually mean anything to him? for him to easily leave you with another? the club music began to soften, not because everyone witnessed what was going on, but because your hearing was slowly deafening from the revelation before you. what you experienced at that moment; as if you were shoved underwater and let you drown in your fears of a breaking relationship.

it was breaking now, and you’re breaking apart now.

“jaehyun?” the once dear name left your lips and you stood there frozen. his shirt disheveled from the collarbone downwards along with a stupid missing vans shoe you gifted him for the anniversary a week ago. “you said you were going to..” you hissed, and swallowed the words back to avoid giving hints of sadness. “..nevermind.”

the girl snaked her arms around his neck. “oh y/n, finish your sentence.” she was high, her words slurred but was sober enough to pay attention to you. “that would mark as a closure with him, won’t it?” her giggles shrieking in amusement. what a sadist.

“ignore her. now, where were we?” jaehyun cupped her jaw to turn her attention away from you.

it took a minute or less to realise that your fists balled at his naughty, flirtatious grin he put out. you knew your skin already was dented with crescent marks you didn’t bother checking. with courage— the hesitating kind, you walked up to him to confirm your doubts that has been clouding your mind since you last saw him. the girl rolled her eyes, irritated at the fact you were quite persistent. jaehyun did the same. “so you’re just gonna dump me like that?” you pushed him on the chest.

“if you want to hear my answer, i can say it.” jaehyun gestured the girl to leave the both of you. “give us a minute.” he shoved his hands in his pockets to grab an item. it was a watch you got for him in the first year. thinking that he was to give it back, apparently, you thought wrong.

the silver watch fell to the ground with his gaze slowly rising from it to you. “i’m pretty much sober, but i was drunk when i agreed to be your boyfriend.”

“lies.” you gritted your teeth, not buying anything that came from his lips. “telling me you’re lying!”

“it’s the truth, y/n.” jaehyun said. it pissed you off when he had the audacity to bring your hair behind your ear, as if that would make you believe him. he lightly touched the edge of your chin, bringing it closer to his face. you shut your eyes hoping that this was all a dream, but it clearly wasn’t. “it’s all one-sided. it’s easy to understand by now yeah? i don’t love you.”

“jaehyun!” the girl singsonged as she returned, pulling him with impatience. “let’s go?”

you felt your throat going dry seeing both of their figures getting smaller in the distance. you couldn’t afford to be more mad because you knew that if you did, jaehyun still would never return to you. he already enjoyed the sight of you hurting, so what much more if you reacted to his plan? the long-term plan he plotted against a relationship he was to tear apart anyway?

the heart of yours that once pounded vigorously for him now probably skipped a beat or two, or more because you couldn’t keep track in counting. you just couldn’t. everything and all else in your peripheral began to blur in your own tears. and glad they did.

sometimes you’d like to think your heart had a mind of its own. it summoned your legs to leave the place when your mind was already completely blank, and you didn’t realise that you made yourself look vulnerable and desperate to everyone in that house.

even so, no one dared to come to comfort you despite knowing who you were: jaehyun’s now ex-girlfriend. they watched all of it happen like they do with most tv series. maybe they didn’t want to get involved with the drama. the rain started to pour and that was when you gave in into the depression you’ve held inside in the span of three minutes. great timing. no one would know i’m crying now. leave him be y/n.

walking towards home from here was better than taking a bus, you’d probably embarrass yourself. and grabbing a taxi would’ve been convenient, but most vehicles were occupied or drivers wouldn’t take in customers due to finished shifts. the only thing protecting you from the rain was your endurance and patience.

you continued running; away from the source of pain, escaping to wherever your half-conscious state brings you. you weren’t close to home yet.

what felt like hours only made your body temperature drop to its lowest.

a car pulled over just when your legs were to give in. you were in a daze that you weren’t aware of the vehicle honking at you. so the flickers of the headlights did the job better. the window rolled down that the person inside let out a gasp.

the slam of the door had you turning around. voices battling each other and it was surprising you could hear them bickering so clearly under the intense rainfall and loud thunderstorms. “give me a second! it’s y/n and she’s soaked!”

that certain voice warmed the freezing you which jaehyun caused. you turned around to see yuta, your best friend, removing his coat, quickly wrapping over your heads and led you straight into his car. “why are you out here alone?! where’s jaehyun?! is he not with you?!” he tsked, telling ten to drive back to the apartment.

between your sobs you let out a bitter and husky scoff, not wanting to hear or associate yourself with that name ever again. taeyong let you wear his scarf and lend you pocket warmers to add more body heat. “o-one..” you mumbled. “i-it was one-sided. he never l-loved me.”

your friends exchanged looks and were so ready to go to the bar where jaehyun was at, to beat the pulp out of him. “that bastard— ten, turn around! i’m beating the crap out of jaehyun!”

“n-no! please!” you hugged yuta and he froze at your plead. “it’ll cause more trouble than he already is!”

“y/n he wasted three years of your time just to play with your feelings!” yuta tried to see the bar behind the moist and droplets on the window. “and i won’t allow anyone to hurt you when he’s the trouble!”

your palms covered your eyes long as you tried to explain. “but he made his word and you know he’s the type to bring in more trouble! he has people on his back and you’re outnumbered..”

“y/n’s right, yuta. we can’t afford to fight all of them.” taeyong pat your head.

yuta slammed his clenched fists on the edge along with fits of his legs. “rgh!”

you were afraid of jaehyun leaving you, yet your bestfriend gave you the most fear since it wasn’t the first time he clashed with your lover. he was against the relationship, that you began dating an enemy of their frat and that it was risky. he warned you that they both had quite a rough history and would for sure have each other’s heads if they were to meet again.

and because your cries led to this, yuta was sure he wouldn’t let his once bestfriend near you.

ten suddenly stepped on the brakes followed with a yelp. slight screeches from the tires had everyone going forwards before hitting backs against the seats. “oh my g- is he dead?” kun sat up a little to see the figure trying to get up.

“who?” taeyong’s eyes widened.

“i think it was jaehyun.” ten pulled a lever to stop the windscreen wiper.

“ha! he deserved it!” yuta’s grin was menacing and chilled you to the bone, but you understood his reasons. and you were an idiot to not able to notice the relationship falling out until the last minute.

jaehyun yelled out your name several times, asking you to get off the car. you didn’t want to because what was the point? he didn’t love you so why did he want you back now? he was crying, but he could be drunk too.

when that wasn’t enough for jaehyun to get to you, he opened the car door, in which, wasn’t locked and managed to grab hold of yuta’s arm out of the vehicle, pulling you along with him out in the rain. “get back here y/n! you’re not going with yuta!” jaehyun yelled as he made you stand on your toes.

“she’s not going with you! jerk!” yuta quickly punched him in the face, causing jaehyun to fall.

you jumped in front of him, stopping yuta from more violence. “yuta please!”

but jaehyun punched him too. back and forth of fist fights.

taeyong and kun got off the car to join you prevent yuta. “dude quit it! let’s just bring y/n home!”

you pushed your way through and passed the boys, eyes asking your bestfriend to calm down. “y/n what the hell are you doing?! he’s drunk!” yuta grabbed your wrists. “why are you still going to talk to him?”

“i’m not doing this for him, i’m doing this for me.” you sniffed and the seriousness in your eyes made yuta let go. “i just need to make things clear to him one last time.”

“you’re stubborn but i’ll credit you for being brave. give you five ‘cause i’m counting.”

you didn’t care about getting sick. all you could think of was to bid that final farewell. it hurt when he wrapped you in his arms as if what happened earlier was nothing to him. as if breaking your heart was his cup of tea. “what do you want jaehyun?”

he mumbled. reeking of the remains of alcohol, you couldn’t stand him anymore. “i want you.”

“well i don’t.” you wriggled out of his hold. “i went out of my way to tell you to stay out of my life.”

he stared at you. it was different than before. he didn’t do this on purpose. three years with him was enough to know his moves and this was one of those that he was attentive now. “i still love—”

“no!” you sobbed and struggled to catch your breath, soon pushing his shoulder and though he didn’t budge, he probably got the message. “don’t start with that word! for all i care you could be the all-star player girls love— but you’re never ever going to win my heart again! you don’t even love me to begin with and you said it yourself!”

you brushed him as jaehyun tried to reach out for you. “how many trophies have you kept on your shelf, hm? i’d say five.. ah, twenty?” you stifle a sarcastic laugh. “am i one of the trophies you desperately want to get? how about that girl you’re with? is she part of the collection too?”

he stayed quiet, and you expected this anyway. “i’ll never be enough for you. goodbye jae.” you sighed.

jaehyun saw that yuta was already waiting. he had you in his arms, giving the middle finger at him before you both entered the car. it wasn’t that you fell short, it was him. indeed it was true that you were a prize he achieved, but even all-star players had their insecurities too. he just didn’t share with you, rather he chose not to.

because what would he get in return? just a little word of encouragement would make him feel better? no, of course not. he didn’t want that and you couldn’t give what he wanted from you. the car vanished in the distance.

so did your peripheral when you looked back.

some reason, you felt better. the company of your friends now were better than jaehyun, in all the three years combined.

“hey, y/n. you didn’t take five minutes.” yuta nudged you lightly. “he’s not worth it.”

you fell silent as you deleted a picture of jaehyun posing with his watch from a year ago. tears brimmed your eyes but you promised yourself just now to never cry because of him. “i’m gonna sleep. wake me up when we arrive home.”

yeah. you counted as well. it took three years to realise how dumb you actually were and how jaehyun wasn’t the person you knew but..

it took three minutes to decide to let him go.

#nct 127 #nct #jaehyun oneshot #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #jaehyun nct #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun angst #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun writings #jaehyun imagines

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k-llama-llama · 3 years

Text

Drama Queens

BTS AU: 8th member

Sumi x BTS

How Sumi and Zoey got over their fight (set after the Jungkook/YinYin/Sumi issue)

A/N: sorry this is so late! Check out my PATREON (patreon.com/kllamallama) for exclusive content. This post was available a month ago for those on my patreon.

Requests are OPEN.Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

“I’m not doing it.” Sumi grabbed onto the door of the elevator. “There’s no way.”

“You promised!” Changkyun tried to pry her hands off. “You know we have to do this.”

“I really don’t want to see her.” Sumi protested. “I hate her.”

“You hate her so much that you sent her a four-hundred dollar house-warming gift?” Changkyun managed to loosen her grip and started pulling her down the hall. “Come on. If neither of you are going to be big girls and deal with this yourselves, you’ve forced me to get involved.”

“You don’t have to get involved.” Sumi looked for an escape route. “This is between Zoey and me.”

“Yeah, my best friend and my girlfriend. If you two aren’t happy, I can’t be happy.” He stopped in front of an apartment door, which Sumi assumed was Zoey’s, and knocked three times.

“You know that code!” Zoey’s voice shouted from inside.

“This is a bad idea.” Sumi hissed, unable to escape his grip on her wrist.

“Worst case scenario, you beat each other up.” Changkyun winked. “And then you move on.”

He pushed open the door.

Sumi glanced around as they walked in. She hadn’t talked to Zoey since their argument about the Jungkook thing. Even though their limited Pandora promotions, they hadn’t exchanged a word. The fact that Zoey had literally moved in with her boyfriend and had a house-warming party, and that Sumi hadn’t been there, would have seem unbelievable a few months ago.

The apartment was gorgeous. Not as big as Sumi’s, but it looked more lived in. There was a jumble of shoes by the front door, obviously belonging to both her and Seungcheol, and the smell of coffee hung in the air.

Sumi would have taken longer to admire the place, if her gaze hadn’t landed on the girl standing at the kitchen island.

Zoey slammed her mug down on the counter. “What is she doing here?”

Changkyun finally released Sumi’s wrist and turned to lock the door behind him. “You guys are going to talk.”

“Like hell, we are.” Zoey crossed her arms. She was clearly recovering from a late night, as her hair was up and messy, her face void of makeup, and she was wearing a pair of sweatpants that definitely weren’t her’s. “I’m not talking to her.”

Changkyun glanced at Sumi, but she just looked at the wall. Clearly he wasn’t going to get any help from her.

“Look,” He sighed. “I know the whole….Jungkook and Yin secretly dating thing really threw you all a curveball. But you’re best friends. We can’t continue to live in a world where you two aren’t friends. It’s weird. And awkward. So stop it.”

Sumi rolled her eyes. “That’s your pitch?”

“I was practicing last night.” He winked.

“Don’t be flirty with her.” Zoey snapped at him, taking an aggressive sip of her coffee. “She doesn’t deserve it.”

“He’s my boyfriend, he can be flirty with me if he wants.” Sumi glared.

Zoey scoffed. “He’s my best friend. I have dibs. Changkyun, come here.”

Changkyun took an involuntary step forward, before catching himself. “Oh, no. This isn’t about me. It’s about you two. You love each other.”

“She called me a bitch the last time we spoke.” Zoey pointed out.

“You withheld some very relevant information from me and then acted like I wasn’t mature enough to handle it.” Sumi countered.

“Clearly I was right!” Zoey shouted.

“That isn’t your call to make!” Sumi screamed right back.

“Good, this is good.” Changkyun looked between them.

Sumi threw off her coat and kicked off her shoes so that she could enter the apartment. “You knew that they were keeping secrets from me! And you didn’t tell me.”

Zoey rolled her eyes. “Firstly, all Taehyung told me was that he thought Jungkook had gone on one date with YinYin. Second, I’m not in the business of sharing secrets which could get people hurt. And thirdly – I KNEW YOU WERE GOING TO BE A BABY ABOUT IT!”

“I was not a baby about it!” Sumi gasped, clearly hurt.

“You took it out on me and Yinnie instead of the fucking man-child you’ve been raising for the past seven years!”

“Do not call him that!” Sumi was very defensive of Jungkook.

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Zoey clenched her jaw. “If you took a step back and looked at this whole situation, you’d realize how stupid you were.”

“My best friend kept a secret from me and let me get humiliated, I’m allowed to be mad.”

“Mad, sure. Not be a complete fucking bitch to everyone who cares about you and then have a colossal meltdown and send Changkyun running after you in the middle of the night.”

“It was like six PM.” Sumi protested. “And you were a bitch when you kept the secret, and then the next day when you told me to get over it.”

“Let’s all stop swearing.” Changkyun suggested helpfully.

“Shut up!” Both girls yelled at him.

“Yes, ma’am.” He sulked over to the couch, trying to avoid the line of fire.

“Fine.” Zoey turned her attention back to Sumi. “Maybe I didn’t handle it perfectly. But neither did you. And you should’ve been the bigger person and come to deal with it.”

“What? Why me?”

“You’re older!”

“You’re more responsible!”

Zoey pouted slightly, something in her giving in. “You didn’t talk to me, forever.”

“Yeah, well…” Sumi shrugged. “I haven’t talked to Jungkook either.”

“Yeah but…it’s me.” Zoey frowned. “I literally moved into an apartment.”

“I know.”

“You made me pick out throw pillows…with a boy!” Zoey shouted.

“I’m sorry!” Sumi broke down in tears.

“I’m sorry, too!” Zoey was crying when she pulled Sumi into a hug, both of the girls clinging to each other and sobbing.

“I’m so happy for you.” Sumi sobbed. “Your apartment is gorgeous.”

“And I’m so proud of you starting a company and being such a boss bitch.” Zoey squeezed Sumi’s waist.

“Is the fighting over?” Changkyun called.

“Would you stay out of it?” Zoey glared at him.

“I’m just saying, you guys seem pretty friendly and I’m going to take credit for that so-“

“Baby,” Sumi smiled at him. “Can you order some food and stop talking before one of us kills you?”

“On it.”

“The wine was so fancy.” Zoey said, referencing the housewarming gift Sumi had sent.

“I actually got you a cheap one because I was mad.” Sumi pulled back, laughing lightly.

“You’re such a bitch.” Zoey smiled.

“You too.”

Changkyun shook his head as he took in the scene. “I can’t believe you both have boyfriends.”

“Yah, don’t talk bad about your girlfriend.” Zoey frowned. “She’s super pretty.”

“And Zoey’s a total catch.” Sumi added. “Seungcheol’s a lucky guy.”

“Just date each other and spare us both from this drama, please!” Changkyun pulled up the delivery on his phone. “How drunk do you guys want to get tonight?”

“Super drunk.” They said together.

#bts #bts imagines #bts au #bts 8th member #female kpop #female!kpop #female member kpop #requests open #au #kpop #imagines #imagine #kpop au #kpop imagines #kpop imagine #monsta x #monsta x au #monsta x imagines #monsta x 8th member

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bopbopstyles · 4 years

Text

1. December 26th, 2016

SERIES RATING: M (sex)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 6.4k

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG | ASK

Y/N promised herself she would never date a musician. It was her one rule–her only rule, actually–when it came to dating. But then, Harry Styles rolled into her life and asked her to break it, just this once. And this is what happened.

A/N: welcome to chapter one of THE ONLY EXCEPTION! i’m so flipping excited i could scream!!!!!! this fic is going to be a long boi so buckle up. also thank you to @meetmeinfleetwood for supporting this fic from the start ilysm!!!! xoxo, willa

pls reblog to spread the word about only exception! 🥰

Y/N’s dad had been having these Christmas parties for the past five years or so, each time on the 26th of December, each time packed with music industry people and lots of bottles of tequila and red wine. Her first time had been two years ago, and she had found it surprisingly enjoyable—she had expected it to be boring and to want to leave after the first hour. Instead, it was full of people she had known since she was a kid, musicians and producers and her dad’s old A&R guys who she had grown up hanging out with in recording studios and backstage at her dad’s shows. They had come to family dinners before and after her parents’ divorce, and so when she ran into them at the parties it was easy to catch them up on her life and suddenly it was after midnight and the party was emptying out.

This year she had volunteered to help set up. Her dad had rented a massive house out in the hills and it came already decorated, but it was on Y/N to make sure there were chairs set up for the music circle, a massive bar laid out and plenty of glasses ready. Her dad’s friend was making the food, eager to use the opportunity to promote the new restaurant he was opening, so when Y/N opened the door it already smelled like garlic and olive oil, her favorite scents on earth.

“Karl!” She called through the house, shutting the heavy oak door behind her. Her arms were laden with boxes of plastic glasses—her dad was too scared of the guests breaking glass ones—and she wandered into the kitchen. The tall ceilings of the entryway where a massive Christmas tree sat adorned with ornaments gave way to a modern, sleek kitchen. Karl twirled around to greet her, a grin on his face. “Smells delicious in here.”

He set down his spatula and came over, grabbing a box and giving her a kiss on each cheek. “Hello, darling. Are there more in the car?”

She shook her head, unwinding her scarf from her neck and placing it on the counter. Karl had been her father’s college roommate and somehow they’d stayed close over the years, every one of Y/N’s birthdays spent at one of Karl’s restaurants with all of her favorite dishes made special, a birthday cannoli with a candle in it for her to blow out. “This is all of the glasses. Dad told me to get the bar ready—he’s bringing the booze in a bit.”

“Hope there’s a glass of wine in there for the chef,” Karl said and Y/N chuckled—there always was a bottle of Karl’s favorite expensive wine set aside when he did one of these things and he knew it. It was part of the pay, her father always said. “Want to taste test?”

“Always.” Y/N joined Karl at the stove, eagerly tasting the sauce he was cooking. It was a simple sage butter sauce, but Karl always excelled at the most simple dishes. “Delicious, as usual,” she said.

Karl jabbered her ear off about the updates on the restaurant—they’d run into problems finding a good sous chef and he was about to do the job himself if he didn’t find someone soon—while Y/N decided where to set up the bar. Finally, she settled on a high table against the glass wall in the wide hallway between the kitchen and the sprawling dining room, which opened up onto the patio. She tugged open the accordion glass doors and breathed in the cool Los Angeles air, thankful for a relatively cold evening, since she always got overheated at parties like this, where people were crammed into every corner. Her dad seemed to know more people every year. Satisfied with the position of the table, she set out the glasses and paper napkins, before asking Karl if he had an extra cooler he’d brought with. She’d forgotten to ask her dad for one before she had left. She filled it with ice and set it next to the table with a scoop, and grabbed the special shot glasses her father had told her to bring, placing them on the table next to a bouquet of flowers.

Her job done, she wandered through the rest of the house. It was gorgeous—she wondered how her father had found it. If she remembered correctly, he had said something about it being an official venue for music and parties, he’d done a private gig here a few years back and the owners had loved him enough to offer it for this party. It’s not like anyone really had gigs on December 26th anyway. She closed all the doors to the back bedrooms, remembering her father’s request, and set up a coat closet of sorts out of the bedroom closest to the front, before heading to change into her outfit for the evening.

“Y/N!” She was securing her favorite pair of earrings in her ears when she heard her father’s voice through the halls of the house. “Where ya at, sweetheart?”

“One sec, Dad!” She grabbed the hanger she had kept her top on and shoved it into her massive purse, settling it into the back corner of the room for safety. Her father was waiting for her in the kitchen with Karl, also getting a sample of the sauce she had tried earlier.

“Hi you,” her father said when she came in. His salt and pepper hair was balding a bit, but his bright smile was what drew people in, olive skin that tanned easily in the California sun. Y/N had selected his suit for the evening, a maroon red and a black tie, something a bit out of the ordinary for him, but Y/N loved it. “Look gorgeous.”

She hugged her father tightly. She had spent Christmas with her mother, as usual, so this was the first time she’d seen her dad during the holidays. “Not too bad yourself, captain.”

“Ha!” Her father pinched her cheek softly, just as he had when she was a child. “I’ve got your present in the car, come grab it with me?”

“Sure.” They had decided to exchange gifts at the party and Y/N had hers tucked in the back pocket of her jeans—dinner on her at Karl’s new restaurant, something she’d discussed with the owner a few weeks ago. Her father’s car sat in the driveway, trunk open where boxes of alcohol laid waiting to be carried inside. “That my gift?”

“You wish,” her dad answered, and Y/N gave him a pouty look that he just shook his head at. He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out an envelope. Y/N couldn’t help but hope it was cash—she needed a new computer and was running a bit short. She knew her dad would help if she asked, but she hated asking him for money.

She took the envelope and opened it, a sheet of paper and something thicker hiding between its folds. She opened the letter and found a homemade coupon of sorts, just as she had done for him.

TWO TICKETS TO ANY SHOW IN LA - NON-REFUNDABLE, FUN REQUIRED!

“Papa,” she said, giving him a beaming smile. “My favorite!” She threw her arms around his neck and he chuckled, hugging her right back.

“Just give me a few weeks heads up, okay?”

Y/N nodded, and looked back down at the letter, eyes running over her dad’s sweet words of love and pride. It was their thing—homemade cards always, never store bought, despite that neither of them could draw. “Thank you.”

“Welcome, sweetheart.”

“Now yours!” She reached into her pocket and pulled out his envelope, aptly addressed, Dad, and handed it over. Her father read her card as well, and chuckled at her drawing of them at dinner together.

He kissed her forehead gently. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

“Merry Christmas,” she said, squeezing his side. “Now let’s get all this booze out of your car before I drive away with it!” Her dad laughed and followed her to the back of the car, them each grabbing a carton of wine. There had to be enough for over a hundred people, Y/N thought to herself. Who would be new this year?

The party was in full swing, her dad’s favorite music playing softly through the speaker system, people littered all over the house with the alcohol flowing. Karl was cooking up a storm in the kitchen, his food a massive hit, and Y/N couldn’t have been happier for him. She’d caught up with her dad’s friends and people who were essentially her godparents, sharing how her job was going (fine) and her relationship prospects (non-existent), sipping tequila and red wine on rotation.

Y/N leaned against the patio railing overlooking the hills, a glass of tequila on the rocks settled in between her palms. She could hear her father’s voice in the distance calling people to come and start the music, the scrape of chairs and strumming of guitars. It was about time for her to go in, but she lingered, relishing the quiet of the night and the biting air wrapping around her. Since she didn’t play an instrument, despite her father’s attempts, this part of the evening was the part where she just sat back and observed. And also usually got quite drunk since all she had to do was drink and sing along.

“Y/N, right?” She turned around, eyes focusing on the person standing a few feet away. “I’m Harry.”

Harry Styles. How had he ended up here, and how had she not seen him yet? “Nice to meet you,” she answered, standing up straight and taking a sip of her drink. “Not going in to play?”

He shook his head. “Bit nervous, if I’m honest. Lot of talent in that room.”

She cocked her head to the side as he joined her at the railing. “You’re plenty talented,” she told him. It was true. She was a huge fan of his, had been for a while, following his work in One Direction since its inception, and now in the solo career her dad had mentioned. He was recording with some guys out at The Village a few months ago and called her at the end of the day, saying he ran into Harry Styles in the middle of a session doing some solo stuff. Said it sounded good, which she wasn’t surprised by in the slightest.

But Harry just chuckled. “Nah, those people are legends,” he said. She knew who he was talking about, too. One of the Dixie Chicks was there, some guys who had written with John Mayer and Kanye West, a dozen other Grammy-nominated musicians, some record label execs who had practically formed the industry as they knew it today, the A&R people who had found them. It was intimidating, definitely, but for Harry she didn’t think it would be.

“Just people.” She sipped on her drink, studying him. He was in a long black coat, a loose black v-neck silk shirt and red and white plaid pants that tapered at the leg, his cropped curls falling into his face slightly. He also had a tequila on the rocks gripped in his hand, rings adorning every one of his fingers. A skull, a red stone, a silver band, amongst them. “Having fun?”

He smiles at her, thankful for the change of topic. “Loads. Haven’t been at a party like this in a while.”

“What do you mean?”

The breeze passed between them, ruffling his hair a bit. “I don’t know. Just, people who didn’t really give a shit about me, if you know what I mean? Holidays can be a bit much sometimes.”

She nodded as if she understood what it felt like to be a popstar of his fame, which she didn’t, but she could imagine. “Didn’t go home?”

“My mum and sister came here, actually,” he said. “They were craving a respite from the cold English winters.”

“Well, this is definitely a respite,” Y/N said, and Harry chuckled.

Silence stretched between them and Y/N tapped her fingernails against her cup. Maybe it was time to go inside, she thought. “So, Y/N, what do you do?”

His question pulled her out of her head easily. “Brand strategy,” she answered, thankful for a comfortable topic. “I work mostly with fashion and product companies, preferably sustainable ones.”

“You like it?”

“Love it.” She did. She loved her work—she’d gone to school for it and thrown herself into it after school, loving pitching projects for clients and helping them understand their core purpose and how they could grow and evolve most authentically. “It was that or books, but I decided this was a bit more profitable. Also wasn’t too keen on living in New York.”

Harry nodded, twirling his glass in his hands. She took the opportunity to run her eyes across his face—he was gorgeous in this way that you weren’t sure was real. It was interesting to see how much he’d grown up. At 22, his cheekbones were cut and his jaw defined, his former long locks he had recently cut and Y/N liked these more, she decided. “What are your favorite writers?” He asked, pulling Y/N back into the conversation.

“That’s like asking which one of your children is your favorite,” she joked, and he chuckled, the sound music to Y/N’s ears. “Dunno, really. I read so much it’s hard to choose, you know? Reading a Louise Erdrich book right now that’s absolutely stellar. The Round House—you should give it a go if you’ve got the time.”

He pulled out his phone and she watched him type in the name to his Notes app, the action making her smile. “Been looking for a new book,” he said. “Just been reading The New Yorker and my mum about took my head off for not reading enough.” They both laughed, the sound filling the night air.

“Harry!” A man was standing in the doorway to the patio, a guitar in hand. “Come sing, mate.”

Harry glanced back at Y/N. “Coming?”

Y/N nodded and followed him inside, refilling her glass on the way. Harry handed her his, and she did the same, giving them both another glass of tequila to sip on while they listened to the circle of musicians. Someone had decided to do some Christmas tunes she Y/N smiled when she heard her father’s voice—he’d made it a bit country, just like he loved to do with popular songs. He’d grown up on a steady diet of folk music and country, just as Y/N had, and he always joked it was in his blood. Harry took a seat next to his friend who Y/N didn’t recognize—probably some producer her dad had met recently, maybe one of the guys from The Village if that was how they’d connected, and Y/N grabbed the seat her dad had saved for her next to him.

She joined in immediately, knowing this rendition of “The Little Drummer Boy” by heart, since it was the same one he had made up when Y/N was eight or nine. Karl was in the circle too, a plate of food in his hands and his bottle of red wine on the ground, and he gave her a warm smile. This was her favorite part of the night—feeling a part of something her father loved so dearly. When he gave her a kiss to her temple and introduced her to the group, she couldn’t help but find Harry’s eyes, his irises twinkling back at her under the lights.

At one o’clock, people finally began filtering out of the party, and Harry decided it was probably time for him to head. Jeff, who had invited him to come with, had already left, exhausted from the holidays with family, but Harry had stayed, hoping to talk to Y/N for a little while longer. He had unfortunately failed to catch her, though, the music running long and after it had wrapped up people had tugged her in for hugs and conversation. Despite knowing who she was through her father, he was still in awe of how intimately she knew all of these people. He overheard snippets of her conversations, asking about children and partners, parents who had cancer and career-defining moments she’d missed out on because of work. Harry was in this world too, but many of the people at this party were a bit older than his usual set—they belonged to the group of his heroes, rather than necessarily people he felt were his peers. He was still getting his solo career together, still only a boyband member in their eyes. He tried not to feel less than, but sometimes it was hard when you were sat next to Natalie Maines of the Dixie Chicks with utterly nothing to say but awe-inspired ramblings.

Finally, Y/N was alone, the older couple she was talking to having left for the door, and Harry seized the opportunity. “Y/N,” he said, and her head popped up from her phone to look at him. Her dark brown hair was soft against her skin, and he eagerly wondered what it felt like against his skin, brown eyes that searched his soul. “I loved talking to you earlier.”

She smiled and Harry loved it when she did. Lit up the whole room, just about. “Me too. Glad you came—with Jeff, yeah?”

He nodded. “He introduced me to your dad when we were at The Village.” Y/N nodded as well, obviously having figured out the story. “I—I was wondering, would you want to grab coffee sometime? I’d love to chat more, get to know you.” He restrained the urge to bounce on his heels, nervous in front of her. He felt like a kid asking out his crush, but that’s what this was, a crush. Even if it came to nothing, she was kind, interesting, and fit into the world he revolved in. It wasn’t the most important thing, but he appreciated it all the same.

“Oh,” she said, tone somber. “Sorry, Harry, but I don’t date musicians. Get home safe, yeah?” She turned away from him, feet carrying her back into the living room, presumably finding her father.

What? She didn’t date musicians? “I’m sorry—what?”

Y/N turned back to look at him. “I just don’t. Bit of a rule.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Don’t feel the need to explain it. Bye, Harry.” Then, she walked away and Harry was left in shock. The abrupt change in tone was like whiplash—she had seemed so interested, involved in their conversation, only to tell him she didn’t date musicians? What the fuck kind of rule was that?

He huffed and tugged out his phone to tell his driver he was ready, and went outside, leaving behind Y/N and her confusing rule. But this wouldn’t be the last time he saw her, he decided. He wanted to know why she had this rule, this stupid rule that was stopping her from getting to know him. It wasn’t like he even asked her to date him, just to get coffee for Pete’s sake. Harry sat down in the car and pulled out his phone, composing a text to Jeff.

Could I write with Peter? Seemed like a great guy, really talented. Maybe if she got to Y/N’s dad, he could earn some brownie points. Maybe then she’d bend her rules for him, because despite their short conversation, Harry was intrigued.

Definitely, Jeff replied. I’ll text him tomorrow.

Harry closed his phone and smiled. Hopefully this worked, because Harry was dying to know more about this rule of hers.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed when she pulled into her dad’s driveway. There was another car sat in the drive, a black 4-door SUV she’d never seen before, the windows tinted so she couldn’t see in. It reminded her of those cars the FBI drives in crime dramas, which obviously led her to a part of her brain that was not necessarily a hopeful place. She scrambled to grab her bag from work and her keys, launching herself from her car and towards her dad’s door.

“Dad!” She called into the house, slamming the door shut behind her. “Whose car is in the drive? Didn’t tell me we’d be having company!” Gripping the wall for balance she toed off her shoes and set her bag on the floor next to the door, shrugging off her coat and setting it on a hook. “Dad?”

“He’s in the toilet.”

Her head whipped around and found Harry Styles standing in her hallway, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. As much as she had planned to forget about him after the party, never really expecting to see him again, she hadn’t been able to. And now he was in her house, hair pushed back from his face, a grin painted on his lips. It was irritating how gorgeous he was. “The fuck are you doing here?”

A hand went up to scratch the back of his neck and for a second Y/N regretted being quite so aggressive. “‘M writing with your dad,” he explained. “Guess he didn’t tell you.”

“No,” she answered. She brushed past him into the living room where, as Harry had said, it was obvious they had been writing. Her dad’s treasured old Gibson guitar leaning against his favorite armchair where he’d set it, computers out with GarageBand up for recording demos, papers with scribbles strewn across the coffee table. “Good session?” She decided that there was no way he was here just to pursue her—he was there for professional reasons, after all. Her dad and Harry must’ve hit it off at the party last week. There was also the fact that her dad was a really fucking good songwriter, so of course Harry would want to work with him. Ever since he’d stopped touring, her dad had started doing mainly writing, his songs appearing on records from everyone from up-and-coming artists the label found him to John Legend.

Harry just nodded. Her eyes drifted to his own guitar, a soft brown wood that had obviously seen some heavy use and travel. She recognized it from her dad’s own guitars that he used to take on the road with him, the nicks and faded wood at the base of the bridge.

“Y/N!” Her dad’s voice fell through the silence of the room as he re-entered. He was wearing his favorite old UCLA shirt, where she’d just graduated from not too long ago. “Home earlier than usual. Was going to give you a heads up about this one,” he pointed to Harry then, “but I see you’ve already found out.”

Her eyes drifted to Harry, who stood awkwardly next to the couch, unsure if he should sit or stand. “Finished my projects early and didn’t have any meetings, so thought I’d get out early and surprise you.”

“Well,” her father said, giving her a quick hug, “glad you did. I’m getting hungry, how about you?” She nodded, she was always ravenous after work. “Harry, would you want to stay for dinner?”

No, she thought. The last thing she wanted was to sit at a table with a guy she’d rejected and her father and eat an awkward dinner on a Friday night. She just wanted a massive glass of red wine, her delicious romance novel from her bedside table, and maybe lighting a fire in the pit in the backyard.

Instead, Harry said, “Sure. Don’t want to impose though.”

“Nonsense! Y/N why don’t you go change and Harry and I can tidy up from working. We were about done anyway.” Her dad kissed the top of her head sweetly and she just did as he said, Harry a forgotten thought behind her as she went to her room upstairs.

It was her childhood bedroom which she had been residing in for a month now. How her landlord could put her out for this long was beyond her, but she hadn’t had the energy to fight it—plus, it was an opportunity to spend some quality time with her workaholic father. So she was spending her evenings in her light blue colored room, sleeping between her soft pink sheets, and picking her work clothes that butted up against remnants from high school she’d left behind as memories. Y/N pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a loose white t-shirt that probably belonged to an ex-fling from college—Daniel maybe? Y/N couldn’t remember. Slipping on a pair of socks to keep her feet warm from the tile floors of the kitchen, she left her room, tugging her door shut so if Harry went exploring he wouldn’t stumble into her room.

Downstairs, Harry was sat at the kitchen island with a glass of wine and a smile on his face, deep in conversation with her dad about Fleetwood Mac’s chord progressions. A glass of red was waiting for her on the counter and she picked it up, wandering over to where her dad was cooking

“Whatcha making?” She asked, peeking into the pot.

“Pasta,” he replied. “Now stop being a nosy Nelly and talk to our guest while I try to focus on not burning the pasta.”

“Dad you haven’t even put it in yet.”

Her dad shooed her from the stove and she chuckled, backing away. “Get out of here, ya pest.”

She turned to Harry, realizing her dad was actively trying to get them to hang out. He was so annoying sometimes. “How do you feel about a fire?”

“Positively,” he answered and she led him outside into her backyard.

It was chilly out, but nothing too bad. She set her glass on the table and went over to the stack of wood her dad kept against the fence, picking up some logs and carrying them over to the fire pit they’d had for years. At first it was so Y/N could roast marshmallows at home, her father trying to do anything to get her to come over to his house more after the divorce, and as time had gone on it had become her favorite place in the whole house. When her dad was out of town and she came over to check up on the house in high school, she’d bring her weed and smoke out here under the stars.

Harry sidled up next to her and picked up a few logs, following her to the fire pit. “This is cool,” he said, words breaking their silence.

Y/N dropped the logs into the fire and looked up at him. “Favorite part of the whole house.” A box of matches sat next to the door and she grabbed them, as well as some kindling, and brought it over to the logs, setting the kindling under the logs before lighting them. The fire leaped up, the wood nice and dry from the lack of rain recently. “So, who got in touch with who?”

Harry looked at her in confusion. “Huh?”

She settled into one of the chairs set by the fire, wine tucked between her fingers. “The writing. You or my dad?”

“Oh,” he answered, joining her in the chair next to her. “Me, actually. Through Jeff.”

As expected. “And?”

“He’s really good,” Harry said, to which Y/N chuckled.

“That he is.”

“What was it like growing up with him as your dad?” He asked, breaking the silence between them.

Y/N shifted in her chair. She’d been asked this question so many times over the years, but it still was hard to answer. “Hard, if I’m being honest,” she told him, truth surprising her. But she had a feeling Harry would get it to a certain extent. He was a hugely popular star, after all. She’d heard rumors that he was a part of a movie coming out this year, something historical. “Like, my parents are divorced, which I assume you know.” He nodded, probably having figured it out by now. “And with my dad’s tour schedule when I was in school, I didn’t see him all that much, especially in elementary and middle school. He was gone all the time, even missed my birthday a couple times because of tour dates, so I just didn’t really know him that well, I guess. Fuck, sorry, this is a lot,” she breathed out, realizing she was rambling. Harry was just surprisingly easy to talk to, his eyes steady on her, intently listening to her every word. Boys didn’t usually listen to her like this.

“S’fine,” he replied. “When did it change, if you don’t mind me asking? Seem so close now.”

The fire, having grown by now, crackled in front of them. “Late high school, but mainly when I was in college. My mom moved to San Francisco for a job and I went to UCLA, so my dad was closest. Came over to do my laundry sometimes, have a home cooked meal, he’d take me to dinner, that stuff. Came to football games with me, sometimes, which he always tried to be interested in but never succeeded.” Harry chuckled at that and Y/N smiled at the sound. Harry was obnoxiously pretty. Like, impossibly pretty in this way where you couldn’t help but look at him again to make sure that yes, he was a real person. And it was really fucking distracting. “His touring kind of stopped when I went into college too,” she added, trying to refocus on the conversation. “Started writing mainly, putting out music only when it suited him. He’s a lot happier now, I think.”

“That’s good,” he said, taking a sip of wine. “I’m glad you guys were able to have that kind of relationship, even if it was later.”

Y/N blinked at him, his words so kind and honest. “Me too.”

“Always been one of my fears, if I’m being honest,” he said, words soft in the cool night air. Sun was starting to set and it was getting dark around them, the light of the fire putting an orange ember to his face. “About having kids with my career, you know? I want to be a dad, but it’s like…how do I do that while being gone all the time?” His honesty shocked her, but then again Harry Styles seemed to be excelling at that in every regard. “Sorry, that’s a lot to unload on you.”

“No it isn’t,” she reassured him. “Just told you about all my daddy issues, yeah?” He chuckled, and it lightened the mood just enough. “You’ll figure it out.”

Harry nodded, taking another sip of his wine and she did the same. It was her favorite, the one her dad bought multiple of whenever she came to stay. Even though they’d gotten closer over the years, his desire to make his house perfect for her never seemed to fade. “Can I ask you something else?”

“Shoot.”

“The rule—I—why is that?”

Well, fuck. This was the exact conversation she didn’t want to have, the one she was hoping he wouldn’t bring up. “It’s actually related to what you were just saying,” she said slowly. He’d get it after everything she’d explained and the fears he shared, right? “I don’t date musicians because they’re always gone.”

Harry was quiet, absorbing her answer. It was true, they always were gone—she had every right to her rule, she told herself. She didn’t want a repeat of what her parents had experienced, what she’d experienced. Her dad’s job had ruined everything in their family, ripping her parents apart, keeping him away from her for more of the year than he was home. She didn’t want the same thing for her kids. “That’s a pretty broad stroke, isn’t it?” Harry said though, pushing back against her. “Like all musicians. Kinda a generalization ‘bout us.”

“You said it yourself,” she said, leaning forward in her chair and resting her elbows on her thighs. “You’re gone all the time. How do you build a life with someone who isn’t there half the time?”

“Devil’s advocate,” Harry said, setting his wine on the arm of his chair, “but hypothetically you’re dating someone who tours all the time. But they make you a priority, coming home and seeing you, putting your relationship first. That wouldn’t matter? You wouldn’t even take the chance that it could work out okay?”

This time it was Y/N who was quiet. “I mean, musicians only have so much control over their schedules,” she said, remembering the excuses her dad used to tell her. “Plus, it’s not the relationship that’s the problem. It’s the part when you get to marriage and kids.”

“…So it’s better to just avoid the whole thing entirely?”

Y/N nodded, her logic laid out in front of her. She’d never had to do this before—most times, guys just took her at her word and dropped it all together. Harry pushed though, wanting to understand in a way the others didn’t care enough to do. “It’s safer.”

“But then you miss out on the opportunity to fall in love with someone,” Harry says, his words like rocks in her stomach. “And what if that person was a musician?”

Y/N had a feeling they were no longer talking in hypotheticals. “We can fall in love with tons of different people.”

“No soulmates and shit for you, then?” She shook her head. She didn’t believe in all that crap, never had. Relationships were about work, effort, time. The person was important, but the life that person led mattered more to her. How much they’d prioritize the relationship, the kind of life they wanted to build. “That’s kind of depressing,” Harry said.

The fire crackled and popped. “I don’t think so. It’s…practical.”

“Love isn’t supposed to be practical, Y/N.”

Y/N found herself speechless. She didn’t have an answer for him. She’d never been in love before, that was for sure. Hadn’t found that kind of love that people like Harry write songs about and she’d often found herself wondering when it was going to happen for her. There just hadn’t been any guys that were right for her yet.

“Y/N! Harry!” She turned and her dad was in the doorway, pasta sauce splattered on his shirt. He’d always been a messy cook. “Dinner’s ready.”

Y/N took one last look at Harry before grabbing her wine and heading inside, Harry following at her heels.

After dinner, Harry decided this was his last chance at Y/N. He couldn’t exactly use the same excuse twice and after understanding her rule, he was determined to be the exception. He helped Y/N clear the plates while her dad settled in at the TV in the other room, telling them it was his time to watch the nightly news and they could clean up since he had cooked. Harry had missed being in a home like this, the kind where he got told to clean up from dinner and there was calm and normal conversation at the table, Y/N talking about her day at work and Harry sharing about his activities from his mum’s visit. It brought him a kind of peace he didn’t know he needed.

The plate clattered on the counter as he set it down, Y/N turning, her hands soapy with the water from the dishes. “Gonna break our dishes,” she said with a snort. “Be careful, please.”

“Sorry,” Harry said sheepishly. He’d cleared the table, so he grabbed a dish rag from the peg and joined Y/N at the sink, taking the clean dishes from the rack and drying them, stacking them on the counter since he didn’t know where they belonged in the cabinets.

They worked in silence, the only sound her dad’s TV from the other room. He could hear Rachel Maddow’s show on NBC, the same one he liked to watch, learning from her commentary on American politics that he was still trying to wrap his brain around.

“Y/N,” he said when they’d finished the dishes. “I promise I heard everything you said earlier.” She looked at him with curiosity in her eyes, trying to figure out where he was going with this. Harry tried to pick his words delicately, wanting to make sure she knew he did hear her, he was just entranced by her and couldn’t give her up. “But what is the likelihood you would be willing to give it a shot? With me?”

She took the dish towel from his hands and dried her own, considering his words. The waiting was killing him, but he didn’t want to rush her. He knew what her worries were and he was asking her to put them aside.

“We’ll take it slow,” he told her, stumbling over the words. “Promise. You set the pace, you decide about commitments. I just…” Can’t stop thinking about you.

But then Y/N surprised him by saying, “I know. I feel that way too.” His eyes widened, not believing the words from her mouth. “I’ll give it a shot,” she said slowly. “Better make the date good.”

“You sure?”

“I wouldn’t ask again unless you’d like me to change my mind.”

“Can I get your number then?” She nodded and read it off, Harry typing the numbers into his phone next to her name. Then Harry shut up and just smiled at her, following her like a puppy dog into the other room where her dad sat watching TV. She curled up on the couch, pulling the blanket her dad had so it would cover part of her and his heart softened at how sweet she looked. He loved seeing her like this, at home, comfortable in her space. “I’m going to head out,” he said. “Thank you so much for dinner, Peter.”

Y/N’s dad turned from the TV and gave him a wide smile. “Of course, Harry. You’re welcome anytime—wouldn’t want you to get lonely out here!”

His eyes drifted to Y/N and he knew that with her around, there was never anyway he could be lonely.

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