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craptsukii · 4 years ago

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genshin boys and terms of endearment they'd use

a/n: this is my first time writing headcanons and ngl i found them quite difficult to format :( i’m liking this style for now, but things might change later on teehee anyway, lemon cake update next week, i promise!

♡༚࿐ 🇩‌🇮‌🇱‌🇺‌🇨‌

let’s get something out of the way first

diluc is not a jerk

sure, he might have tsundere tendencies but he’s definitely not as cold as people make him seem

in my opinion anyway

i like to call him a classy, but also a very private, softie

i can totally see him as someone who’d use terms such as darling, love, doll

a major factor here is the time and place

in public, he tries to seem more indifferent and will most likely refer to you by your name

however, in a more private setting, he has no inhibitions and actually prefers using nicknames!

I feel like diluc would want to really reassure their partner he truly cares about them, but in a direct yet indirect way

and calling you sweet things seems to get the message across.

listen to this while reading!

If only time could pass faster. Who knew waiting could be such an agonising activity? Such a simple but repetitive thing. Waiting for your cake to finish baking, waiting for the morning to arrive and even waiting for your lover to come home turned out to be much more of a challenge. It wasn’t unusual for Diluc to spend hours on end at Angel’s Share, but it was rather odd of him to break his promises.

A sad smile took over your features, remembering last night. Remembering his words, so sweet and benign, promising to dedicate you all of him and his time. His crimson red eyes, full of love and admiration for the person he held so dearly to his heart. His voice, so demure and nothing but a soft whisper, as if raising it would ruin the moment. The moment he shared with you in a little dark corner of Mondstadt, away from curious eyes and sharp ears. The moment he so desperately wanted to hold onto. Yet, the darknight hero was nowhere to be found.

By the time he finally arrived, your eyes were already closing. It was a gloved hand that pulled you out of your somnolent state. Yet again those same red eyes were looking into yours with the same devotion, if not stronger than the night he made his promise.

“Forgive me, love,” he pleaded in a shushed tone, “Kaeya came in and started causing a commotion and I couldn’t just leave.” he continued, his thumb brushing over your cheek delicately.

Too tired to say anything, you placed your hand over his, silently asking him to join you in bed. You had all the time in the world to discuss tomorrow... Hopefully. After discarding his black coat on one of the chairs and taking off his shoes, Diluc plopped in your shared bed, not even bothering to change into something more comfortable. Soon his arms were around your waist, bringing you closer to his chest. His smell reminded you of grapes and it completely enveloped you as you nestled into him.

“If only I could turn back time…” Diluc murmured to himself, kissing the top of your head. “Nothing will come in between us and our time together tomorrow. I promise you, darling.”

Turns out that, in the end, he does keep his promises.

♡༚࿐ 🇽‌🇮‌🇦‌🇴‌

listen to this while reading!

my very polite baby

like sure, he’s straightforward

but he be treating everyone with respect

you might be wondering why that matters

well that's because i think xiao would see it as a little rude to not refer to someone important to him by their name

names play a major part in xiao’s past

with rex lapis re-naming him after taking him under his wing and such

so, in my opinion, xiao finds calling out your name way more meaningful than nicknames

although if he were to use one it would probably be dear

it’s short and he can still address you as “dear (name)”

it does sound quite formal at times though

Moments like this were rare. Usually, sleep doesn’t concern your lover in the slightest, as it rarely comes to him. Although you couldn’t help but admit how much you loved it when he did come and sleep. Cuddled up next to you was the vigilant yaksha, the well known protector of Liyue. And dare you say, it was truly a divine sight. In the wash of the morning light, his face took the appearance of an old photograph, so nostalgic, so at peace. Slowly, one of your hands brushed past his face, placing the few rebel aquamarine strands that were cascading down his cheek behind his ear. For a moment, you find yourself in perfect silence, Xiao’s soft breaths being the only sounds that could be discerned. Without realising, you started softly rubbing his back, your heart leaping at the content purr that followed shortly after.

It was almost impossible to put into words the joy this brought you. Although it was such a simple, mundane thing, seeing Xiao so at ease was by far your favourite memory with him. The more you studied his features the more your sight fell upon his lips. The sudden urge to kiss him overwhelmed you, wanting nothing more than to cherish and show your lover the affection he deserves.

If only the sudden chirping of birds didn’t scare you, barely a few inches away from his face.

Curse those birds and their awful timing! And so, you backed away, laughing to yourself in self-consciousness, thankful that no one was aware of your little mishap.

Or so you thought.

You felt your face get warmer the moment you saw Xiao looking at you, drowsiness still coating his eyes. Yet again, for another short moment, no sound could be heard.

“____ my dear” he said, his voice deep and hoarse, snaking his arms around you as he brought you closer to him, “if you won’t do it, I will.” it was then the flush across his cheeks became apparent to you. Shame you didn’t have time to savour it, his lips immediately finding yours in a sweet, dream like kiss.

Moments like this were truly worth treasuring.

♡༚࿐ 🇨‌🇭‌🇮‌🇱‌🇩‌🇪‌

in contrast with xiao, childe loves calling you cute nicknames

in fact, he barely uses your name!

sometimes he likes to tease you and pretend he forgot your actual name

of course that’s not true,he could never do such a thing

I can totally see him use pet names such as comrade, girlie, cutie, shawty, sweetness, princess/prince, baby

ok i know shawty is kind of random, but i think he’d use kind of ironically?

I think he’d also use big sister/brother just to tease you, even if you’re younger than him

he heard teucer refer to you as such one time and it honestly melted his heart a little bit

as a side note, seeing his siblings get along you makes him genuinely happy.

listen to this while reading!

Spring was such a beautiful time. Especially in Liyue. Especially on a date with the one and only Childe, eleventh of the Fatui harbingers. For someone with such a fearsome title and reputation, it wowed you to no end just how charming, just plain adorable, Tartaglia can be. Albeit, it was only your second date, it was expected of him to at least try to be nice.

And on time.

As you waited, under that beautiful sky, a hue so gentle between cloud and baby blue, you watched each bird upon wing. It was one of those spring days with a kiss of coldness that somehow heightened the warm rays of the sun. You paused to admire the flowers, to sense their aromas, to be in the moment with their transient beauty.

“Lovely, aren’t they?” asked Childe from behind you, a shy, perhaps slightly embarrassed, smile painted on his lips. “Sorry I’m late, I really overestimated my juniors’ capabilities and I had to step in.” he continued, gingerly taking hold of your hand, kissing the back of it.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his gentlemanly antics, although you enjoyed them nonetheless. “Don’t worry about it, you’re here now.” you reassured him, as you took a hold of his hand, already leading him towards nowhere in particular.

Another thing you liked about him. Things were so casual, so easy-going. One might call this date nothing but a hangout, but not every date has to be a luxurious five star dinner or a fancy show. Sometimes just a simple walk along the Liyue port was enough. Enough for you to get to know Childe, enough for you to like him even more.

Suddenly, Tartaglia was in front of you, his hands lightly taking hold of your face.

“Hold on cutie, there’s something on your face,” he answered your silent question, seeing as you looked a little confused. The next thing you knew, his lips descended upon yours. It was a sudden but very much welcomed kiss. A kiss that unfortunately ended just as abruptly, “it was me.”

♡༚࿐ 🇿‌🇭‌🇴‌🇳‌🇬‌🇱‌🇮‌

favourite peepaw

also prefers using your name rather than nicknames

but he’s not completely against them

he finds them quite nice actually

and he actually enjoys being referred by one!

like imagine going for a stroll with him and all of a sudden you go "darling, look!"

he'd look so content oh my lord

in my opinion anyway

he’d usually call you honey, my beloved or even my one and only!

you could be doing the simplest of things like reading with him under a tree

and he'd go "you're my one and only love"

no, he isn’t aware of how cheesy it sounds.

listen to this while reading!

Who knew the God of contracts could be such a romantic? Usually, Zhongli wasn’t a big fan of fancy, elaborate dates. He’d usually say something along the lines that “spending time with you was enough for him to feel like the richest man in the world”, which he technically was even without your presence. But, quite frankly, it was because he lacked the funds to do so that he didn’t pamper you every moment of the day.

So when you found yourself face to face with an array of different foods, meticulously prepared and arranged on a soft picnic blanket, you couldn’t help but wonder —

“Why the sudden change?” you asked, sitting down on the plush cover, to which Zhongli only chuckled.

“Am I not allowed to change my mind?” he replied in a teasing tone, flopping next to you.

“Oh, you are more than welcome to do so,” you winked, pouring some tea for both of you. It smelled like chamomile, “I was just trying to say it’s a nice change.” you continued, taking a few sips of your tea.

Zhongli only hummed, content with your response. Sometimes, sitting in silence, all while eating delicious brunch foods and drinking sweet tea, was much more enjoyable than small talk.

And so, you spend the rest of the day with your lover, basking in the sunshine and each other’s company. In his embrace, there was something so right, something that felt right, smelt right. You let your body sag, your muscle become loose. In that embrace you felt your worries loose their keen sting and your optimism raise its head from the dirt.

“You’re so beautiful, my beloved,” he whispered, cupping your face and kissing you gently.

♡༚࿐ 🇰‌🇦‌🇪‌🇾‌🇦‌

avid user of nicknames

partially because he finds them cute

and partially because he loves teasing you

he’d use them in public and try to get a reaction out of you

like let’s say all of a sudden kaeya is back hugging you, pampering your neck with kisses

saying something like “what’s wrong, baby?”

he’d also use hot stuff, sweet cheeks, gorgeous, handsome, cutie pie, treasure

sometimes they’re really sweet, other times they’re really silly

side note, i feel like this one got a little out of hand sorry yall i lowkey can’t take kaeya seriously

listen to this while reading!

There was something so heavenly about a kiss in the rain, a tender moment that just wouldn’t wait. It was that burst of love that is expressed, not caring if the water soaked through to chill the skin. You felt yourself gasping for air as Kaeya’s lips left yours, doe like eyes searching for his. Behind that brilliant shade of blue sparkled a glacial attraction. So complex and mysterious, it was magnetic. It made you want him even more.

Upon seeing your dazed state Kaeya smiled, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. His hands found yours. “Let’s get you of here before you catch a cold.” he said, leading you down the streets of Mondstadt. It was the middle of August, and you got caught in nothing more than a summer rain. You weren’t even cold, but alas you let it slide, enjoying seeing Kaeya worry about you, even if it wasn’t as serious as he made it seem.

There is something about a rain-washed pathway that invites playful feet, that says each new step will be rewarded with a splash. And soon, you found yourself splashing around, making the most out of this accidental rain shower.

The moment you finally reached your home, Kaeya wasted no time, his arms already wrapped around you in a tight embrace. Yet again, a gasp escaped your mouth, Kaeya’s cold lips leaving goosebumps behind each carefully placed kiss on your neck.

“You know what’s the best way to get warmed up, treasure?” he asked, his hands ghosting over your hips.

You shook your head softly, awaiting his answer.

“A good old dance party!” he exclaimed, spinning you around as he started humming a cheerful. “Nothing gets the blood going like a little movement!” it was obvious he found great pleasure in seeing your more than confused, if not disappointed, expression. Still, he paid you no mind and continued dancing with you all while singing a cheery melody.

It was quite save to assume there was never a boring moment with this man.

♡༚࿐ 🇦‌🇱‌🇧‌🇪‌🇩‌🇴‌

my favourite elevator boy

doesn’t love nicknames but doesn’t hate them either

i see him as an action speak louder than words guy

and although he’s aware that, as his partner, you know that

he still feels sorry for not being as vocal as other people when it comes to talking about his emotions??

so cute terms like these are a simple way he can show his appreciation for you

for some reason, i think he would really like using diminutives??

he’d call you things like little star

or baby or lovebug

i think it really matches his vibe ngl

listen to this while reading!

The breeze blew warm announcing the coming of summer's hottest days. The aroma of the tall grasses were an intoxicating perfume and the starry night above was a painting more sublime than any man could create. The clarity above became reflected in your mind.

Being with Albedo meant putting up with the unholy amount of hours he’d spend on whatever research he’d be conducting at the time. And luckily for you, his next big discovery involved the stars. On the black sky above you, there were a multitude of stars and there were lighter patches, clusters of faint and bold light, the constellations altered according to the time of year. These were the same stars that greeted the ancients, the same ones that would be there in millions of years.

As you enjoyed your little midnight snack, your gaze fell upon the chief alchemist. His eyes were fixated on the landscape above him, utterly fascinated by the world’s mystic beauty. Seeing him so consumed by his studies made your heart feel warm. It was adorable to see him like this.

Your sudden yawn made both you look at each other. Albedo’s gaze was filled with compassion, and perhaps a little remorse for making you come with him so late in the night just to stare blankly at the sky.

But you knew this wasn’t such a trivial thing.

You pet the spot next to you, silently asking him to sit down with you, to which he immediately obliged. As his head found its place on your shoulder a little sad smile made its appearance on his face.

“Sorry for making you come here with me, baby.” he said, his hand drawing patterns along your thigh. “I know this isn’t your idea of quality time.”

“Any time spent with you is quality time, silly.” you giggled, kissing the top of his head. “And besides, who doesn’t enjoy a little bit of stargazing?”

♡༚࿐ 🇻‌🇪‌🇳‌🇹‌🇮‌

ok now for venti

i feel like with him the tone he uses is very important??

i mean this also applies to the rest of the guys

but for venti even more so

he could simply refer to you by your name and it would still feel all special and bubbly

nonetheless, he loves using pet names!

i mean as a bard, he can come up with poems and such on a whim ( flashback to the signora moment :) )

so his nicknames for you always have a certain meaning or funny story behind them

oh, you love pumpkins or had an unfortunate accident involving one? now he calls you pumpkin all the time

he’d also call you things like sunshine because to him you bring so much joy and you warm his heart just like the sun.

with that being said, good luck to those pulling for him! <3

listen to this while reading!

“There you go! You’re really good at this!” Venti complimented you, observing in great detail the way your fingers touched the strings of his lyre.

Judging by the curious stares and even odd looks you’d get from time to time, that wasn’t really the case. What was supposed to be a simple walk around the city turned out to be a full concert. Although Venti couldn’t find it in his heart to tell you, who asked him so eagerly just a few moments ago if he could teach how to play a song, just how… Poor was your attempt.

A relieved sigh could be heard the moment your fingers left the strings, although Venti’s reassuring smile never left his face. “Don’t let a few strangers discourage you! Even the greatest geniuses had to start somewhere!”

“Are you saying I’m a genius?” you asked teasingly with a raised eyebrow, laughing at his flustered face.

“Let’s not go that far…” he murmured, winking cheekily.

“And here I was, thinking I could wow you with my insane musical skills…” you whined sarcastically, handing him his lyre as you continued your stroll. It was then Venti stopped in his tracks. Upon his face, shock was written all over, his expression soon turning sympathetic. For a moment, he left you alone, diving into the crowd of people, only to return to you with a single cecilia flower. Its fragrance was sweet and fresh and its color a perfect white. Shortly after, he gently placed it behind your ear, smiling to himself while looking at you.

“You don’t need fancy tricks to win over what you already have,” Venti said, kissing your cheek lightly. A cheerful tune could be heard across the street, Venti’s soft melody attracting a lot of attention, “I’m all yours, sunshine.” he said loud enough for more than a few people to hear.

He has such a way with words, doesn’t he?

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #soft hours #fluff #genshin xiao #genshin Childe #genshin diluc #genshin headcanons #genshin zhongli #genshin kaeya #genshin albedo #genshin venti #genshin one shots #i’m sorry kaeya stans #i love him but i deadass cant take him seriously 😭😭#kaeya supremacy nonetheless

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enthusiasticharry · 4 years ago

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Lonely this Christmas

summary: you and Harry broke up earlier in the year, but at Columbia’s Christmas party you see each other again, and you both realise just how much you miss each other

author's note: ahhhh i don’t think i've ever been so excited to post one of my works as i am this one and i hope you all enjoy my baby. the reader in this is musician!yn and i have so many other ideas for the little story line, so if you'd like to hear them, please let me know!

word count: 11k of baso angst, really fluffy fluff and some of the best smut I think i’ve ever written. there’s deepthroating... face-sitting... really just the whole shebang.

masterlist | please speak to me about LTC here!

You truly believed that Christmas was the best time of the year.

You loved everything about the festive time of year. From decorating the house, to listening to the music. From spending time with your family, to cosying up on the sofa and watching Christmas films. It was a special time of year, where everyone seemed to relax and walk around with joyous looks on their faces because no matter the year they’d have, it was nearly over and it’s finally time to celebrate the best aspects of the time that had passed.

You found yourself thankful for the year, but also thankful that it was over. This year had been one of the best, but also one of the worst years of your life. The thing that caused the year to not be the best that it could was the split you had with your long-term boyfriend. It was messy, and absolutely heartbreaking on your side and because it was such a big part of the year, it became one of the memories that you wished to ignore but you found yourself struggling too. On a brighter side, you had won your first Brit award this year for Best New Artist. It was a turning point in your career, for certain.

One thing that you’ve never enjoyed about Christmas is parties. You would much rather stay within the walls of your own house and spend your evenings alone, but being in the industry that you are it becomes a little harder. The Columbia Christmas Party happen’s every year, but this was you first year signed to the Record Label, so the first year you had been invited. You were shocked to be invited, but found yourself to be excited and dreading the experience all at once.

The thing that you found yourself thinking and worrying about the most was what you were going to wear. You wanted to impress everyone there, since you had found this new stardom for yourself and you had created this name for yourself which you hadn’t had before. After consulting with your stylist, you settled on a custom Gucci dress that was made for you to wear specifically to this event. The dress itself was a Christmas-green velvet material, which landed to about your mid-thigh with a square neckline. Attached to the square straps of the neckline, were tulle sleeves of the same colour that bunched at your wrists. It hugged your curves perfectly and once you’d added your black scrappy heels you really felt beautiful. Your natural features are accentuated, and you, for the first time in a long time, feel beautiful within your own skin.

That all changed the second you walked into the party.

You felt as though all eyes were on you, as though everyone was watching every step that you took to see what you’d do. It made you feel uncomfortable and immediately feel as though the dress you are wearing wasn’t right, it was too short and you needed to cover up. You were maybe 98% certain that they weren’t thinking about what you were wearing, but more so who you’ve just clocked eyes with.

You knew he was going to be here, and you had prepared yourself for the inevitable, but seeing him stood there completely changed everything that you had prepared for. You both were signed to the same record label, years after the two of you had met though, so it was no surprise that he was sat at one of the tables with a group of people around him as he spoke and laughed at what they were all taking about.

You tried to ignore the pinch within your heart, but it was hard. You weren’t the one who broke it off, and if things had gone according to your plan, you would still be together right now.

You had met Harry a few years ago, when you had first moved to London and you were bar and pub hopping, singing and hoping that you’d somehow stumble upon someone who could help you start your career. It was completely by accident that you both had met, and looking back at it quite embarrassing on your part. You were in the middle of your set when he walked in, as well as Mitch and Sarah, but you hadn’t seen them at that point. You had recently learnt how to play Sign of the Times on the piano and you had purposely brought your small keyboard out with you so you could play the song. Looking back on it, you probably wouldn’t have sung the song if you did know that he was there, but you didn’t know so you sung it. It was a little shaky at the start due to your nerves about playing the song for the first time out of the comfort of your room but you quickly found your groove, and you finished strong. Harry had later told you that, after a little bit of teasing from Mitch and Sarah, he knew that from how in awe he was of you he just had to speak to you. He walked up to you whilst you were in the middle of throwing your celebratory shot back that you always take after finishing your set and the first thing you ever said to him was, “Fuck!”

You always thought that would be a story you’d be able to tell your grandchildren, and you both had even spoken about it, but it just hadn’t worked out.

He seemed okay, which you were happy about. His new album had just come out, and you don’t think you’ve ever cried at a record as you did at that one. You knew it was about you, it was hard not to. All of the little hints that he left throughout his songs would blow over anyone else head, but you knew the true meaning of them and you think that’s one of the reasons you found it so emotional. He was smiling as he spoke to the people, briefly taking sips of his drink every now and then, which was only water so you wondered whether he’d drove there. You both would be flying home soon, but this would be the first time in three years that you’d be flying home alone.

To stop yourself from crying, you quickly make you way over to the bar. After running your eyes over the cocktail menu, your eyes immediately pricked at the sight of one, and you could stop the words as they left your lips: “A cherry bomb fizz please.”

You watched as the bartender added a cherry and some maraschino liqueur, before topping the drink off with Champagne. The drink was quite sour, but you quite liked it. It caused your lips to purse and eyebrows to widen, in a good way you must add.

“Could never handle your alcohol, could you?”

You could feel him before you heard him, but you didn’t want to turn around. Why he felt it okay to come up and talk to you were unsure about, but at the same time you had been hoping that he would. Why you were hoping that he would you were also unsure about, but you’re certain it had something to do with the fact that you weren’t quite over him.

“I think you’re mistaken.” You say, taking another sip of your drink, “You were the one who could never handle your alcohol. And this is just sour.”

He hums, as though he isn’t believing a word that you say, “If you say so, love.”

“Love?” You say, raising your eyebrow at him whilst throwing back the rest of your drink, “Thought those days were well over.”

“Force of habit, ‘suppose.” He shrugs, “I have a few of them when it comes to you.”

“You grew out of them.” I shrug, “Can’t remember the last time you called me love whilst we were together.”

He drops his eyes to the counter, and you know you’ve done what you’re supposed to. This is the first time you’ve spoken to since you broke up, and you can’t believe that it’s at a Christmas party of all places. He also had the audacity to call you love, something that you couldn’t believe he had the balls to do. The last few months of your relationship you were lucky if he even looked at you, and here he now was calling you love as though it’s totally okay to do so.

“I’ll always call you love.” He says, lifting his eyes up from the counter to look at you once more, “I’ll always care about you.”

“Where was this five months ago?” You ask, unable to stop yourself.

Your break up, in your opinion, came out of nowhere. You knew something had changed in your relationship, since he hardy had the time for you at the end of your time together. He’d get up in the morning and wouldn’t touch, or even kiss you. Then, when he’d come home it would be the exact same thing, he’d slip into bed and to stop yourself from feeling as though you were going to cry, you’d pretend you were asleep and hope that you’d actually fall asleep. He never told you a reason for breaking up with you, apart from that he needed space and that he couldn’t be with you. That was probably the thing that hurt you the most. He broke up with you, but you never really had a real reason why.

“I just needed to leave.” He says, “That was my main focus.”

You try to ignore your heart breaking all over again but it’s hard to, when it’s the only thing you can think about.

“Why now?” You say, “Why are you doing this now?”

“YN—”

You shake your head, “I don’t think I want to hear it. I’m going to go.”

“Don’t—”

“—YN!” You feel an arm thrown around your shoulder, one that you immediately realise is Jeff once you register his voice and his face once you turn to him, “I haven’t seen you in months! How are you?”

You can immediately tell that he’s drunk. From the slight slurring of his words, to the smell of alcohol on his breath as he speaks. You’re just as shocked to see him as he is to see you.

“I’m good, Jeff, thanks.” You smile, at him, trying to push the conversation you’ve just had with his friend out of your mind, “How are you?”

“I’m drunk.” He laughs, squeezing your shoulder slightly, “But! I’s nice to see you two together again!”

The whole ignoring the situation doesn’t quite go to plan. Once he’s said those words you immediately draw your eyes towards Harry. You’ve never wanted to leave a conversation as much as you did this one. You look at Harry, but he isn’t looking at you.

He gasps, “You should come over to the table! We’re all here and it’ll just be like old times.”

“I couldn’t possibly. . .” You shake your head.

“You can!” He says, “Come on, I won’t take no for an answer! And H, hurry up with those drinks.”

Jeff walks you away from the bar and towards the table that you noticed earlier when you noticed Harry for the first time this evening. Glenne, Mitch and Sarah are there, as well as Kid and a few other producers that you recognise from working on Harry’s album, as well as a few songs from yours also. You knew that just because you and Harry broke up you couldn’t expect the friendships that had formed because of you two to just stop altogether.

“YN!” There’s a course of cheers and Sarah’s the first to stand up and wrap her arms around you. Out of everyone, Sarah was the person who you were closest with out of Harry’s band. She had joined Harry’s band after you and Harry had been dating for a year or so when Sarah joined the band, and you two instantly clicked and became the closest of friends. You had spoken a few times with her since you had broke up, but nothing compared to what you used to. You weren’t surprised though, she was Harry’s drummer first and your friend after — or that’s what you told yourself to make you feel slightly better.

“Hi.” You smile, dropping down into the spare seat next to Sarah. Words are thrown around the table of glee that you’re there, as well as questions as to why you haven’t been in contact. You know they’re drunk, and you suspect that is why they’re saying all of the things they are. You were quick to fall out of the conversation as it moved onto the show that they did the day prior to celebrate the release of Harry’s album. You suppose the reason your feelings were so heightened today was due to your hearing the album for the first time yesterday and then replaying it today.

It was completely different to Harry Styles but still so Harry. You hated how his music made your feel, the sad and the happy ones, as well as all in between. Harry returned to the table shorty after clutching drinks in his hands, and under his arms. Why he didn’t just make two trips, you would never know, but it’s lucky that all the drinks made it without any spillages.

“We were just talking about yesterday.” Glenne says, taking a sip of her drink as she does before turning towards you, “Have you heard the album, YN?”

“You don’t have too—” Harry turns to your briefly.

“I have.” You nod, “It’s good, a masterpiece even. You should be proud of it, H.”

You can see his shoulder tense, and from knowing him as well as you do, you wouldn’t be surprised if his heart just sunk to the bottom of his stomach. If you’ve listened to the album, it means that you’ve heard the song that Harry hoped you hadn’t.

“What would you say is your favourite?”

You look directly at him as you say the next words, and you hope he listens to them, “Probably Cherry.”

The other’s carry on talking as though you hadn’t said anything at all, but Harry doesn’t open his mouth again. He doesn’t stop looking at you though, and the way you look gorgeously defeated. A part of him wondered whether he was the one who caused you to be this way. About a month ago he asked some producers he knew that were working on your album with you how you are, and they said that you just seemed sad. It broke him to hear those words, just the words he had said to you all those months ago had broken you. Out of the blue, probably not but due to you not paying any attention, the group all move in, including you and Harry to have a reminiscent group photo.

He does open his mouth again when the group disperse to the dance floor, leaving the two of you all alone at the table.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t lift your eyes up from the end of the table cloth you’re messing with, an exasperated laugh leaving your lips, “What for? Breaking up with me? Taking everything from me? Or, I don’t know, using that in your song?”

“I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

“You thought I wouldn’t mind.” You shake your head, completely baffled at his words, “Why would you think that? I trusted you with that, and now it’s on the end of one of your songs.”

“I’m sorry about everything, but especially that.” He says, and you can tell he’s being genuine with the look in his eyes. He looks as though he’s about to cry.

“Why did you do it?” I asks, “You could’ve asked me. I would’ve said yes, I swear to you.”

“I was nervous.” He says, “We didn’t leave on the best of terms, and I felt as though asking would’ve have been the best.”

“So you decided to do it anyway?”

“Will you forgive me, please?” He asks, and you can tell his voice is about to break, “Please.”

“That’s it, Harry.” You say, “I don’t think I can.”

The next morning you awake with a slight hangover, which wasn’t surprising because once you’d left quickly after saying your last words to Harry, and opened a bottle of vodka that you had in your cupboard. That bottle now sits on your bedside table, three-quarters of it drunk and the cause of your hangover. You were thankful that you hadn’t gotten too drunk before you left the party, due to the wraths of paparazzi that were there as you left. You remember leaving with your head down, ignoring their calls and questions, as well as their their cameras flashed at you. You had gotten into your car, your driver had smiled at you and the second the car started moving away from the club you found yourself unable to stop the tears that streamed down your face.

This wasn’t the first time that you’d done this since you’ve broken up with Harry, but this was certainly the worse you’ve felt since you’ve done so. Your head had its own heartbeat, and you felt as though your were stable on your feet as you trudged towards the kitchen to have some orange juice, your remedy for your hangovers to say the least. It was always something that Harry thought ahead about when you were together. If he knew that the two of you were going out he’d always stock up the fridge. The amounts of time since that you’ve gotten drunk and not had any orange juice within the house is quite atrocious and he knew from experience that they never ended well.

You drink your first glass of the drink quickly, and pour your second one before making you way back into your bedroom. Due to the amount of time you spent in LA, you had purchased your second apartment here, your first being in London. It wasn’t the nicest ever, but it was good enough for you when you were here, and something that you were thankful to have when you woke up from nights like these.

You fall back down upon your bed and the first you think you pick up is your phone, shocked at the thousands of notifications your found on it. You’re still slightly asleep so you rub your eyes a few times before clicking upon the instagram app. The thousands of notifications are dm’s and comments upon your photos. After clicking through the notifications, you find the culprit sat with a lovely love heart emoji on Glenne’s story.

At some point that morning, probably whilst you were growing your sorrows away with vodka, she had posted the photo of you all on her story with the caption ‘the band’s back together,’ a heart emoji and tagged you in it. All the messages were asking whether you and Harry were back together again, not because you’d ever gone public with your relationship, but Harry had gone public with your breakup in his interview with the Rolling Stones and with Zane Lowe. He was very respectful in the way that he spoke about it, which was all you ask for. You hadn’t actively gone out to watch and read what he was saying, but your manager had warned you about them before you had done some interviews and you were curious to say the least what they were about.

In the photo you could tell that you and Harry were the only ones who were sober. Everyone else had drunken grins on their faces whilst you and Harry, to say the least, had very uncomfortable smiles across both of your lips. It annoyed you slightly that the two of you couldn’t even be in the same place anymore without having messages upon messages about whether or not you’re back together. Anyone with a brain could see that you certainly weren’t just by the expression on both of your faces.

You weren’t annoyed, or angry that the photo had been posted because you wouldn’t have taken the photo if you didn’t want it to be posted, but you did take the photo. You were always taking photos together before the breakup, and photo booths were you speciality. It’s another thing that you had hardly done since the breakup, so it was nice to see the photo but deep down a part of you wished that it hadn’t have been taken.

It’s all over all of the social media’s, and you decide that it’s probably best if you just put your phone down. You’re about place it on your bedside table when a notification pops up on the top of your screen, and without thinking, you tap on it, sending you straight to the messages app and to who had sent you the message.

Harry: YN?

Why he was sending you a message in the first place, you had no idea. Why he was messaging your so early in the morning was also something that confused you even more.

Harry: I know you’re reading this.

Harry: Your read receipts are on.

You curse yourself for being so click-happy when you see a notification, and more so for having your read receipts on because you know you can remove them but you don’t quite know how to. You contemplate for a few seconds what to say in your drunken, tired haze, before typing out the message:

YN: Can I help you?

His reply comes in a few seconds later.

Harry: Are you free?

YN: Why?

Harry: Meet me at Beachwood. Usual time.

YN: Why should I?

Harry: Just be there. Please.

YN: I will.

When you walk down the pavement towards the Beachwood Cafe, its as though you’re doing so without actually thinking about it. When you and Harry were together — this was your place. You can’t even remember the amount of dates the two of you have had here, tucked away in the corner whilst the music played, chatting away endlessly about things that popped into each of your minds. It got to the point that when you two were free, and managed to get to go, you had been that much that the waitresses knew your order by memory. The first time they had done it, you remember the way you both smiled sheepishly at each other and back at the waitress.

It was decorated for Christmas. You could see a tree in the corner of the cafe, as well as lights and tinsel across the windows. If you weren’t so nervous you probably would have smiled at the sight of it.

You push the door open and hear the familiar ding of a bell that rings whenever someone walks through, and you’re catapulted back to last year when you did the exact same thing but with a smile on your face from your excitement of seeing your boyfriend, one who you cared and loved very much.

The low hum of Mud’s Lonely this Christmas fills the room, very apt for the current situation and you’re guessing the mood of the conversation you’re about to have. It was late, close to closing time but you and Harry found that to be the best time to come, because hardly anybody else did.

He’s already sat at your usual table, the one in the corner because the two of you often liked to people watch. It had started off a silly game once when you were both tired and didn’t really want to talk about your lives, so you started brainstorming what other people’s were like. As much as you hated to admit it, Harry’s stories were always the better of the two of you but you didn’t mind, because you could little to the words he spoke to you for every minute for the rest of your life and you wouldn’t mind.

He’s already gotten your drinks, you can see the two glasses upon the table in front of him. You pull out the chair, making him look up from his phone at you. You can see his features immediately soften at the sight of you stood there.

They always used to do that.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” You don’t reply, “I got you a peppermint hot chocolate. I know It’s one of your favourites.”

It was one of your favourites, and you haven’t been able to have one in a while because, surprise surprise, they remind you of Harry, and the time you used to spend together.

“Thank you.” You say, picking up the drink and taking a sip of the hot liquid, dropping it back down and looking at him directly in the eyes, “Why did you invite me here?”

He clears his throat, and the movements of his elbows suggest he’s wiping his hands upon his trousers.

“I want to apologise. For everything, this time.” He says, and you watch as he places his hands back upon the table, messing with the rings on his hand. He still wore the one you got him for your anniversary a year ago, “For how I acted yesterday, the day we broke up and the months before hand. I was a dick, and there’s no excuse for it, but I just hope that you accept my apology.”

“I do.” You say, after a couple of seconds of contemplation, knowing that there was no point to having this dragged out for any longer than it already was, “I just want to know why, that’s all I want.”

“I.” He stops and lets out a shaky breath, “I don’t know, if I’m honest with you. I was just so investing into getting the album finished, and for some reason in my mind I thought that it would be best if I was single to do that.”

“Why would you think that?” You ask, the tears brimming on your waterline.

“I don’t know. The second I watched you walk out of the door, and when you didn’t turn around to look again but just drove away, I knew I’d messed up.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You choke back a sob, trying to be quiet to not draw attention to the two of you, “You should’ve stopped me. Explained. I love you Harry, I would have done anything to help you. You needed space, I would’ve given it to you. You needed me, I would’ve been there.”

He drops his head, “I know.”

“Then why didn’t you?” You suck in a breath and bite your head to stop anymore sounds from escaping, “You let me leave. You watched me leave. Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I felt guilty. I’d just broken up with you, love, do you really think that it would’ve been a good idea for me to all of a sudden say I wanted you back?”

Silent tears stream down your face, “You had months to, Harry. Months. You did nothing.”

“And it’ll be the biggest regret of my life, YN, I promise you.” He says, and you can tell that he’s trying to stop himself from crying, “It will be. I’ve been a mess without you.”

You still love Harry, and you know that you do, and you hate seeing him so upset. You believe that’s why you reach forward to take his hand in yours.

“I have too.”

Somehow, you and Harry had been booked on the same flight home, and you managed to get seats next to each other. Spending that time next to each other was good, you believed. It gave you the opportunity to properly speak and catch each other up on everything that had happened. Harry had apologised, yet again, for everything that had happened and you had too. You gushed over his album once you had done, and that was when he invited you to the Secret London Show he was holding at the Electric Ballroom.

That takes you to now, stood in front of your mirror looking over your outfit to make sure that it was presentable enough. You knew you had to look presentable, but it wasn’t as fancy as the Christmas party. You dressed yourself in a long sleeved black lace top, and paired it with some black jean flares and your docs. Simple, yet quite effective in the grand scheme of things.

You were nervous to say the least about what what the evening was going to hold, especially since Gemma and other people who you hadn’t seen since the two of you broke up were going to be there. You weren’t exactly prepared, and if they asked you any questions you’d have no idea about what to say, but once you had brought that up with Harry, he said to just answer with the truth, which you were going to.

The entire way to the electric ballroom you were nervous, your heart was beating out of you chest and you felt as though you shouldn’t have been going. You thought that up until you arrived, when you walked backstage to see Harry and Gemma stood talking whilst Harry was getting ready. Once he saw you, his features rose into a smile and yours did too, and you walked over to press a kiss to his cheek in greeting.

“YN!” You could hear the shock in Gemma’s voice as she noticed that it was you and she immediately stood up and wrapped her arms around you, “I haven’t seen you in so long. How are you?”

“I’m okay, thanks Gem.” You smiled, pulling away and tucking some of your hair behind your ear, “How are you?”

“I’m amazing.” She says, “I certainly didn’t expect you to be here. Are you two back together? Please tell me that you are.”

Instead of answering straight away, you turn to look at Harry briefly. You both knew exactly what was running through your brains, and the way you both smiled at each other made that completely obvious. He nodded, and then you knew exactly what to say.

You grin and turn back to Gemma, “Trying to.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for you.” She wraps you in another hug, “He was a mess without you, and I know you were a mess without him. You’re soulmates. I can’t believe he even did it in the first place.”

“I think we all couldn’t.” You laugh.

“Hey!” Harry whines from the chair beside the two of you, “I made a mistake, we all get it.”

You and Gemma laugh and from then it’s like the past six months hadn’t happened and you were still the best of friends. That was one thing about being with Harry, you loved his family just as much as you loved him. Gemma was like a sister to you, and she was even when you broke up but you just hadn’t seen her. Anne, well she was like a second mother to you. She always made sure to make you feel included at family gatherings, and she even came to stay with you sometimes when Harry went away for a while and you couldn’t go with him. You had missed Harry the most during this time, but Anne and Gemma were two people that you had also missed more than anything.

The majority of people make their way to where they’re watching the show soon after, but you tell Gemma that you’ll meet her on the balcony later because you wanted to have a quick word with Harry. He was in the middle of shrugging his jacket upon his shoulders when you walked through the door, and he immediately stopped his movements and turned to look at you.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Everything okay?”

You shrug and bite your lip, stepping for arms a few steps towards him, “Just wanted to see you.”

You find your eyes flicking up and down his body, taking in the monochrome yellow suit he had on with a black tie. You always loved and supported Harry’s wardrobe choices, and you had missed in the time you hadn’t been with him picking them out with him. You felt as though this was an excellent choice.

“You look amazing.” He says, taking a few steps forward so that you’re directly in front of each other. You watch as he lifts his hands up, about to place them on your waist but he stops himself and drops his arms back down. Without hesitation you grab his wrists and place them upon your waist. His eyes widen, but the second he feels your skin underneath his hand, just separated by the thin material of your lace top.

“Thank you.” You bite your lip and wrap your fingers around his tie, lightly picking up the material, “You look so handsome, H.”

He almost lets out a sob at your words, but he quickly stops himself and smiles at you. Without thinking, you lean forward and press your lips upon his. They feel so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time. You want to cry. You’ve dreamt of this for months, the feeling of having him this closer to you again, and from the way he wraps his arms around your back and pulls you even closer to him, so that your body is fully flushed against his. You pull away with a smile and immediately drop your head to his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist under his jacket and hugging him close to you. You finally feel a tear escape from your eye.

“I’ve missed you so much, H.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

He sings the entire Fine Line album from start to finish, and from how much you’ve listened to the album you actually know the majority of the words. You sing and dance away with Gemma, posting instagram stories of the two of you, and then one of how proud you are of Harry. You don’t need to explain yourself, there certainly isn’t a need to so you do so without any hesitation. You realise you’ve missed watching him perform, the way he can entertain a crowd with his talents has always been something you’d been jealous of. You’ve done shows here and there but because your album isn’t due to be out until the start of next year, when you plan to do your first world tour, and even though you try your hardest, you don’t feel as though you’ll ever be able to work a crowd the way he does. Where Stormzy came from, you still have no idea, since you hadn’t seen him downstairs but all of a sudden he’s singing Vossi Bop with Harry and your watching with your mouth dropped open in shock as he does so.

You and Harry make the executive decision to go to Harry’s house after the concert. It’s how you both found yourselves sat on Harry’s sofa, a glass of wine in each of your hands. You head is leant against the back of the sofa, whilst Harry’s hand leans upon the back of it, running his fingers through your hair. It’s comforting, and the smile hasn’t left your face since he started to do it.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, moving his hand from your hair to run his finger along your cheekbone, then down until he’s running it across your lips, “I can’t believe I ever pushed you away. You were my girl. I was going to marry you, I needed to marry you, still do.”

“I’m back now.” You whisper back, lifting your hand to place on his cheek, “And I’m not going anywhere. No matter how hard you try and push me away, I’m not leaving.”

“I don’t want you too.” He shakes his head, “I’ll never want you too again.”

Without really thinking, you take the glass out of Harry’s hand and place both of yours upon the table in front of you, listening to the sound as glass meets glass. He leans back on the sofa with a puzzled look, immediately realising what is happening when you move to straddle his hips, placing your hands upon his shoulders to steady yourself. His hands fall upon the small of your back, his hands dragging up and down to tease your skin.

You lean forward, moving so that your faces are inches apart. You knock his nose slightly with yours, causing his cheeks to curl upwards with a smile before you capture it with your lips. immediately responds by kissing your back, pushing his body so that it’s placed even closer to yours if it’s physically possible.

Without a warning you pull away from him, slipping off his lap so that you’re on your knees in front of him. His eyes never leave yours as you so, and he immediately opens his legs so that you can slip in between them, his finger running over his bottom lip as he watches you.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“Want to feel you.” You reply, resting your hands upon his thighs, “Want to feel you in my mouth. Can I?”

“Go ahead, baby.”

You feel excitement bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and with shaky hands you move to unfasten his belt, and unbutton and unzip his trousers without much struggle. He lifts his hips up so that you can manoeuvre his trousers down and off his legs, leaving him in his black boxers. You bite your lip at the sight of the tent within the flimsy material, already growing and ready for you. You feel slightly overwhelmed that after so long of waiting, and wanting him to be in front of you again, he actually is.

“Already so hard for me, H.” You say, running your hand over the fuzz upon his bare thighs, “Have you thought about this as much as I have.”

“I thought about it everyday.” He replies, quickly at that, “It’s etched in my brain, the sight of you on your knees for me.”

You bite your lip as your grin, leaning to press a kiss to his stomach, just above the happy little trial that slips underneath the hem of his boxers. You feel his stomach tense underneath your lips, especially when you hook your fingers into the hem of his boxers, wiggling the material down until you can completely take it off once he’d lifted his hips again. He’s fully hard for you, and you can feel your stomach doing little flips in excitement for what is going to happen.

Sex, as it is in most relationships, was a big part of yours and Harry’s. It’s important that couples are comfortable with each other when revealing such intimate parts of themselves, and you and Harry were. If any of of you wanted to try anything, you could do so because of how comfortable you felt with each other. Whenever the other wanted to try anything, you’d do so without any hesitation and in such a way that you both enjoyed it. You both had your kinks, and your shared ones, and over the courser of your relationship you both explored those feelings. You were just happy that even though you had spent such time away from each other, you could still feel that confidence bubbling between the two of you, and those feelings bubbling between each other. Harry made you feel a way no other human being has ever been able to, and you were thankful because you felt as though you’d never be able to find that with anyone else, and now you didn’t have to worry because you were back together.

“You ready to take me in your mouth baby.” He says, placing his hand upon your cheek, “Ready to take me the way you used to.”

“Always, baby.”

Your tongue slips from between your lips and you lick a stripe up his throbbing cock, causing a low groan to escape through Harry’s lips. You can’t help but smile at the sound, knowing that you had caused that. Another groan escapes his lips once you wrap your lips around his tip completely, taking it into your mouth and you can help but giggle slightly. He smiles down at you and pulls your hair up so that it’s off of your face, making a makeshift ponytail to help move you up and down his cock.

“Look so good with my cock in your mouth.” His tongue slips out of his mouth to wet his lips, “Always could take me so well. Show me, baby, show me how deep you can go.”

You comply, taking him as deep as you can until you can feel him in the back of your throat. You eyes start to water, and you look up at him through your eyelashes. You hold for as long as possibly can before he lightens his touch and allows you to pull away. A string of saliva connects you two together as you and you wipe your lips with the back of your hand to remove it.

“Can you do it again?” He asks and you sheepishly nod, flicking your eyes between his throbbing member and him a few times before wrapping your lips back around him, “Fuck, baby, no one can do this like you can. No one.”

His words spur you on and you deep throat him as far as you possibly can before you need to gasp for air, taking a few seconds before starting to bob your head again, taking a few seconds at each time to run your tongue over his throbbing tip, collecting some of the salty pre-come that had started to bubble there.

“So good to me.” He lets you stop for a minute, and you place your head upon his thigh so that you can catch you breath. It was almost as though he knew that you needed to take a breather. You had the slight problem of always trying to do more than you’re able too and you almost always end up loosing too much of your breath, “Even though I’m an absolute twat. You’re always so good to me.”

“You deserve it.” You say, your throat a little coarse from your actions before.

“I don’t.” He shakes his head, “I broke your heart.”

You hesitate for a few seconds, “But you’re fixing it.”

“I shouldn’t have broken it in the first place.”

You move so that your higher up and able to place a kiss to his lips, whispering against them, “You’re fixing it.”

He kisses you back with more passion than before, moving his hand to grip under your thighs so that he can pick you up and place your on his. His fingers tug at the hem of your lace shirt, so you detach your lips so that you can pull it over your head. He groans at the sight of your bare chest to him, your nipples hardening into stiff buds at the feeling of the cold air immediately on your skin.

“No bra?” He presses a few open mouthed kisses to your neck, “You’ve been with me all evening, and I never even fucking noticed that you didn’t have a bra on.”

“You used to have a special talent for noticing when I didn’t have a bra on.” You giggle, sighing slightly at the feeling of his lips on his neck, and then the subtle feeling of his teeth grazing your skin.

“I must’ve lost my touch. But don’t worry.” He pulls away and looks you directly in the eye, “I’ll soon get it back.”

“Of course you will.” You laugh, but he stops it with his lips. The first time you and Harry kissed, you were so nervous. You felt as though you were going to mess up and he’d never want to kiss you again. You were completely wrong, and he actually ended up saying that it was one of the best kisses of you life. You couldn’t believe his words, and since then you completely found yourself wanting his lips to be on yours. Just as they were now, his tongue slipping between your lips and the feeling always transporting the two of you to where it’s just you, and you have the time in the world to kiss as much as you want to.

He moves his kisses down your neck, leaving sloppy ones against your skin until he was at the curve of your breast. Harry was a boob man, you knew that for a fact. As much as he loved to hold onto your ass every now and then, you always noticed that he spent the majority of his time focusing on your boobs. Whether it be sucking blemishes into the plushly skin whilst you fucked, or laying his head on them as you both calmed down from your activities, he always, without fail, focused on your boobs.

He knew that if he attacked your nipples skilfully with his tongue, he could have your dampening your panties and clenching your thighs together so much that he couldn’t resist it. He starts by wrapping his lips around your right nipple, tugging on the flesh slightly with his lips before letting it go with a pop.

“Fucking love your tits, love.” He sighs and you giggles slightly before gasping at the feeling of his pinching your other nipple with his fingers, “Fit in my hands, and in my mouth, so nicely.”

You moan in response to his words and throw your head back as he wraps his lips around your other one, sucking and sending flutters all the way down to your core. You wanted him, yearned for him, and you were beginning to grown inpatient.

“Can we go to your bedroom?” You run your fingers through his hair and pull his head back so that he’s looking at you, “Bedroom.”

“Is that where you want it?”

“Want it in your bed.” You say, placing your hand upon his cheek, “Our bed.”

He stands up with you still on him, your legs wrapped around him as he carries your upstairs. You rest your head upon his shoulder so he can look over yours and direct you safely to the comforts of his bedroom.

This place didn’t hold the best of memories from the last few months of your relationship but if you ignored that and focused on the positives, you had some of your best times in this room. It was a place where the two of you could completely be yourselves, and have a place to call yours. The pillow talk that occurred in this room was out of this world, and it was where you planned your future. One that was put on hold briefly but now seemed to be ready for the two of you again.

“Will you strip for me?” He asks as he places your down in the room, “I want to watch you slip out of those jeans, baby.”

You nod but at first undress him. You slip the jacket from his shoulders, skilfully loosen his tie and pull it over his head. Next is his shirt which you start to unbutton, but Harry grows impatient and rips it off, the buttons flying in all sorts of directions.

“Harry!”

“Oops?” He laughs, sitting down on the bed.

You had given Harry one strip tease before, for his birthday a year ago and it had gone down a treat. You had dressed up in your fanciest lingerie, which happened to be a black set that he had bought specifically for you for your birthday with ‘Styles’ embroidered on the inside. There was something, for the both of you, that you loved about seeing his name all over your the undergarments you wore. Whenever you wore them out in public, the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other, as though you were hiding a naughty secret that you didn’t want anyone to know about.

“Are you going to?” He urged, not taking his eyes off you’re, “I’m waiting.”

“Might make you wait a little longer.” You smile, running your fingers along the hem of your jeans, “Seeing as though you left me waiting for how long?”

“Don’t tease.”

“Why?” You shrug, “That was your speciality, wasn’t it?”

He had a love for teasing you, always had done. From the first time the two of you had sex, you knew he liked to tease. He liked to tease you all over, having your body withering under his touch until you couldn’t help but beg for him to touch you. You had a slight suspicion that he enjoyed hearing you beg for him, whimpering under his touch until you were crying for him to touch you. You remember that once, he had been teasing you all day whilst you had been out and about, but once you had gotten home he was teasing you so badly, overstimulating you over and over until you were crying for him to make your come.

“Just strip, my love.” You laugh and his words and unfasten the button to your jeans, turning around so that your ass is facing him, pulling your jeans down to reveal your black lace panties to him. You’re not surprised when he smacks his hand to the flesh of your ass, causing you to turn around with a gasp.

“That wasn’t nice.” You move so that you’re straddling him again.

“When have I ever been nice?” He raises his eyebrows, “I don’t think you want me to start now.”

He leans forward and places his lips to yours again, his body falling back upon the bed so that you’re hovering above him. His fingers run down from the small of his back, to her ass again until he’s gripping the flesh between his fingers, quite harshly you must say so which goes straight to your core. You know that the front of your panties are ruined by your wetness, and you know for certain that Harry does also.

“Sit on my face.” He mumbles against your lips.

“What?” You whisper back.

“Sit on my face.” He places a kiss to your jaw, “Wanna eat that pretty cunt, want to have you trembling above me.”

You would squeeze your thighs together, but you can’t because of his body between yours. You nod your head and clamber off him, pulling your underwear down your legs quickly. You move up the bed until you’re next to his head, spreading your legs and placing your knees on either side of his head. His hands grip your thighs, dancing his fingers along your thighs.

“Please, H.” You say, pushing his hair off of his forehead as you look down at him.

“Didn’t think you’d be begging so soon, baby.” He chuckles, pressing a few kisses upon your cheeks.

“I’m doing no such thing.” You shake your head, “You’re just being slow.”

He certainly isn’t being slow when he leans his head forward and starts to attack your clit with his tongue. You have to quickly lean forward also and grab the headboard to steady yourself, a moan escaping your lips as he does so. He attacks your clit quickly, and you can’t help but grind your hips forward at the feeling. He curls his hands around your thighs, stopping you from moving anymore. You cry out as he doesn’t slow down, and you pull his hair slightly. It emits a moan from him which vibrates against your clit, creeping your closer and closer to your peak.

It becomes a cycle. As you pull on his hair, more moans and groans tumble from his lips again sty your clit. He knew the more that he focused upon your clit, the closer you’d find yourself to your orgasm. He had learnt this, and he certainly hadn’t forgotten it.

You bite your bottom lip and close your eyes, rocking your hips back and forth against his tongue. He knows your close, due to your thighs clamping around his head. He doesn’t slow down, but instead he flicks his tongue even quicker.

“Fucking hell.” You moan, your body starting to shake as you feel your orgasm wash over you. He continues to attack your clit, coaxing you through your orgasm until you’ve finished and catching your breath.

“You taste so fucking good.” He says, dancing his fingers upon your thigh, “Missed your taste.”

“Fuck me, H.” You say, breathlessly.

He doesn’t hesitate. You manoeuvre yourself off of his head and lay so that you’re head is rested upon his pillow. He leans to open his bedside drawer but you stop him, grabbing his arm and pulling his back to you.

“Did you sleep with anyone else?” You ask, knowing that this could make or break whether you were going to be fucked or not at this moment.

“No.” He says, immediately shaking his head, “I didn’t. Did you?”

You also shake your head, “I wanna feel you, H. Want you to come in me.”

He groans without even touching you yet, or you touching him. He immediately drops his lips to yours, and you can’t help but giggle and smile into the kiss. You wrap your arms around his back and pull him closer to you. He pulls away slightly, just to grip his cock, running his thumb over his tip a few times.

“Are you sure?” He says and you nod, threading your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Please, H.” You nod, hips bucking towards his, “I need you.”

“Need you too.” He kisses you again, “Always need you.”

He leans forward, looking down between the two of you to line his cock up with your entrance. He runs the tip over your clit for a second before pushing into you. Your walls immediately envelope him, tightening around him with every inch that he moves in. You sigh against his lips, wrapping your arms around his back. He starts to move in and out of you, your walls clenching around him as he tries to find his rhythm.

“Fuck.” You can’t help but moan that into his ear.

“Taking me so well.” You drop your hands to rest on your pillows next to him, to which he takes your hand in his as he starts to quicken his pace, “Missed your pussy so much. Never leaving again.”

Instead of replying, you place your lips upon his again. From the way his eyes are screwed closed, you can tell that he’s close. If it’s possible, he starts to thrust his hips harder towards you, hitting a point so deep into you that causes a whine to fall from your mouth.

“You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” He says against your neck, moving in and out until your thighs are shaking beneath him, “Can feel you, fuck, can feel you clenching around me. Milking my cock, aren’t you?”

You hum, “Feel so good, H. I’m so close.”

When you do come, you see stars. You clench around him, and profanities escape your lips. The feeling is completely how you remember it. You hadn’t been completely celibate since breaking up with Harry, since you do own a little bullet vibrator that had been your friend. You had it for years before you met Harry, and you used it whenever he was away or if the two of you fancied spicing it up every now and then.

You come down from your high just as Harry is catapulted into his, coating your walls with his as does so. His body collapses on top of yours, his head rested at the side of yours. He’s still inside of you, and both of your chests are rising up at down at a quick pace.

“Fucking hell.” He laughs, and you turn your head to look at him. He has a grin upon his face and you lean forward to kiss his dimple, “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”

“I know.” You smiled, “You’ve told me multiple times. I’ve missed you to.”

He finally pulls out, and you immediately felt empty. You whined slightly and he moved off of you, dropping down upon the bed next to you. You take this as the opportunity to slip from your bed. Due to not having sex in a long time, you flip your legs over the edge of the bed and prepare yourself for having to take a few steps. Taking a deep breath, you stand up and waddle your way towards Harry’s bathroom, scooping up Harry’s shirt on the way.

You know the way like the back of your hand, and it’s oddly comforting to you. Once you’re in the bathroom, you clean yourself and do your business. Once you’re satisfied, you shrug Harry’s shirt on and do up a few buttons so that you’re covering at least a bit of yourself as you do so.

Harry’s underneath the covers as you return to his room, smiling at you with dimples and all as you walk back through the door. He’s on his side of the bed, and you clamber into yours. The feeling of having someone in bed next to you makes you happy inside. You lay upon your side, with one of your hands beneath you head and Harry copies your movement. Your faces are close, and he leans forward to place a kiss to your nose.

You smile, “Hi.”

“Hi, love.”

“Are you okay?” You ask and he nods, “Do you think we’ve rushed this?”

“No.” He’s quick to say, “I don’t think we have. We needed this. I’ve never felt closer to someone as I do to you right now.”

“Me neither.” You smile, moving to grab his hand that was rested upon his side, “And I don’t think I will again.”

“Darling.” Harry says, pointing his finger in the air as he does so.

Chloe hesitates for a second before letting out a, “Ding!” to say that he was right.

It was Boxing Day, and after spending Christmas Eve and the majority of Christmas Day with your family, you had driven from your family house up to Cheshire to spend the rest of Christmas Day and Boxing Day with Harry’s family. You were all sat in the living room playing a game, sporting glasses of wine and basking in the Christmassy feeling of being together again.

After Harry’s show on the nineteenth, and the acts that happened afterwards, you and Harry had many conversations. There was a few tears from the two of you, and the conversation got heated in some aspects but you were together again, and that was the main thing. Originally, you had decided to spend Christmas separate, without each other’s company just because it was such a sudden change and you wanted to make sure that you fully weren’t rushing into things. Then, whilst sat on the sofa after devouring your Christmas dinner, with Mud’s Lonely this Christmas playing through your speakers that you realised that you missed Harry, and a Christmas without seeing him now was a Christmas that you didn’t want in your life.

You had contemplated surprising him and just turning up, but you felt as though that wasn’t fair on the rest of his family, and that’s why you messaged and asked him. He replied asking whether you were certain that you wanted to do this, and you said yes and he said that he’d have a cup of tea ready for you whenever you arrived.

He did have one ready for you, and it was everything you needed to warm yourself up after the long journey.

Anne, Gemma and Michal asked no questions to you, but you had no doubt that they had asked Harry some on your journey. Anne had welcomed you with a hug, and so did Gemma and once their prying eyes were away, Harry kissed you as though his life depended on it, pressed against the staircase of his mother’s house whilst fairy lights twinkled around them.

Anne’s next to go, hoping that her answer of, “Sweetheart,” was at the top of the list.

Chloe replies with, “Uh huh,” to which everyone “Ooo’s” in response at.

You’re rested upon the back of the sofa, with a flute of Champagne in your hand. Harry, in his flat-cap almost breaking your hear with how handsome he looked, turned around and pointed his finger at you.

“Come on, now.” He says, “Be smart with this. It’s sticky stuff.”

“Babe.” You immediately reply, knowing that was one of pet names that Harry called you the most.

People around the room laugh at Harry’s phrase of ‘sticky-stuff’ but that doesn’t mask Chloe’s exclamation of, “Ding!” followed by, “Top answer.”

You smile at the knowledge and Harry turns to you also, holding his fist up for you to fist bump which you both laugh at. He holds his hand out and you pass him your drink, which he takes a sip of quickly before returning it to you so you can carry on playing the game.

Michal is next, and for some bizarre reason to all of you he says, “Cutie-pie,” which certainly isn’t on the list. The room chuckles around you, and Harry says something about him “returning to the mines’’ which you all laugh at, but you specifically roll your eyes at.

The game soon wraps up, and you have your meal. Harry sits next to you, and had his hand upon your thigh the entire way through. The table around the two of you chatted about all sorts, many of the questions being about when your music was coming out which you certainly didn’t expect. You started to feel as though your album, when it came out, wouldn’t be very complimentary of your relationship with Harry, and you were starting to regret it slightly, but you loved all of your songs and you hoped that when you showed Harry, and the world for that matter, that they would too.

You and Harry, after the meal had finished, had offered to be on washing up duty. You had been given the task of washing up, whilst Harry dried because he felt as though his skills were better there. You let him believe that and carry on with drying all of the special Christmas cutlery that didn’t go in the dish-washer.

Once you had finished, and you were drying your hand upon the towel, you felt hands upon your waist, more specifically, Harry’s. He place a kiss to your neck and you giggled, turning around so that upon were facing him. He immediately captures your lips with his, and you wrap your arms around your neck to steady yourself from the attack of his lips. His hands immediately again go to your waist, slipping his hand underneath the material of your jumper to rest upon your skin. Once you pull away, you look at him with a smile upon your face.

“What was that for?”

“What?” He shrugs, “Can’t I kiss my girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” You ask, unable to hide your smile.

“Girlfriend.” He nods, “That’s what you are, aren’t you?”

You nod your head and place another kiss to his lips, the feeling running through the two of you without really knowing how significant he really was.

“If you want me to be. I want to be.”

He lifts one of his hands and places it upon your cheek, running his thumb ever so delicately along your skin.

“I love you.” He says, with no hesitation in his voice, “I know I’ve been shitty, and I probably shouldn’t be saying this to you, especially not in the way that I am, but I do love you and I never stopped. I swear to you, that from now on my love for you will be the most important thing, and I won’t ever, ever make you second best again.”

“That’s all I want.” You reply, leaning forward to place a kiss upon his lips, “I love you too.”

With the year that you had, and the feeling as though you’d never be with this man again, you couldn’t believe that here you were with him. He was with you, and he was yours and there was no doubt in your mind that what happened earlier this year will never happen again. It was almost as though this was something that your relationship needed to grow stronger in itself, and it surely was now.

He wraps an arm around your neck and pulls you onto his chest, “I’m never letting you go again. I probably won’t let you out of my sight again.”

“I can’t say that I’d ever complain.”

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #harry styles writing

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banqdanfnfic · 4 years ago

Text

which, as they kiss, consume | jjk

you just wanted to get a tattoo from your boyfriend

pairing: tattoo artist!jk x reader

genre: established relationships au, tattoo artist au, smut

word count: 4k

warnings: unprotected sex, biting, making out, grinding, licking, nipple play, jk has a lip ring, oral (f receiving), fingering, shy jk and oc, sexual tension, slight choking, slight aftercare

♫ : Streets by Doja Cat, Candy by Doja Cat

♡ Aesthetics: Playlist | Moodboard

He visibly chokes on his glass of beer as he almost snaps his neck to meet your gaze. He could say that you were awfully drunk and hence the sudden confession out of the blue, but behind your heavy lidded eyes, Jungkook could sense that you were serious.

“You what?”, he gulps abruptly, moving closer to your face, doe eyes pleading to repeat yourself.

“Yes Kook. I want that tattoo on my breasts. I’ve decided”.

It’s not that Jungkook didn’t have experience in his career with inking on different parts of a human body. He just had never given a tattoo to someone who is romantically associated with him and the thought of seeing you half naked made him chuck down the rest of his drink in one go.

The most physical he had ever gotten with you was a kiss shared occasionally since it’s only been over two weeks you had started dating. Okay maybe you made out once in his car but that’s it. It never got to the point of shedding clothes or anything intense.

“Are you sure?”

You giggle at the sudden hoarseness in his voice and nod positive. Ironic how his aura never matched his personality. His inked skin, athletic body proportions covered in black monochrome bad boy outfits gave out default energy that he is a local heartthrob with multiple chicks wrapped around his finger each night and a heavy demeanor to carry in his smirk.

You were one of those believers until Jungkook asked you out in the most hopeless romantic way possible after constantly visiting the café you work in, a few shops besides his parlor. He was a gentleman with respectful boundaries, warm hands to hold yours and sweet sensual kisses though you are pretty sure he probably has a good game.

For any outsider it looked like those cliché bad boy and shy girl love stories, but for real both of you were a good percentage of introverts.

Jungkook runs his tongue around his lip ring while he is stressfully ruffling his dark locks into a mess. He is trying to explain his reasons to postpone your decision considering how shy he got at this point. But then that’s exactly why you were requesting him with soft eyes, it would be so uncomfortable to be shirtless in front of anybody else. Or maybe it’s your way of saying the relationship is open for higher levels of physical affection.

After debating around in vain, he finally hums and clears one of his slots for his beloved client.

Friday approaches way quicker than you assumed and now your heart is beating in your throat. Right after you are done cleaning the tables, you have to make it to Jungkook’s parlor for your appointment.

Running on three hours of sleep, black under eyes even after a decent amount of makeup, you groan as you check yourself out in the mirror. You opted for a simple shirt and skirt (also known as the outfit you bought for occasions with Jungkook), light beach waves resting on your shoulders. Hoping that a few cups of coffee will save you, you stride across the street to stop before the infamous parlor he worked in. Hopefully the full body shave and chocolate body butter has kept its excellence on your skin below the clothing.

The door chimes as it opens with a dragged creak on the musky wooden flooring. It felt like an otherworld where air smelled like men’s perfume and faint tint of cigarettes. In other words, intoxicating.

You ask the first person you meet at the reception, one of Jungkook’s companions at the shop and he assists you to his cabin located at a comfortably remote location.

His space is hidden with a simple black curtain. You are met with Jungkook’s back facing you, working determinately on a client’s arm and cares to spare a glance only when the guy with you is informing him about your presence.

“This will be over in a few”, he grins to your face and goes back to focusing his coil on the skin of a woman in her late twenties laying down his chair. The vibration from his inking machine fills in the silence and you excuse yourself to sit on a small black couch beside them.

This was the first time watching him at work and now you can understand why people rumored so much about his attitude because damn it is intimidating.

Brows knit together and inked muscles flex as he drags the needles around for finishing touches. Meanwhile you can pretty much smell the drool from the woman who is shamelessly checking out your boyfriend. Though you are pretty sure Jungkook gets such glances more than he can count every day, you can’t help but feel jealous. Partly because of the childish possessiveness and partly because you want to be the reason behind his dark eyes and intricate concentration, in profession or not.

To stop from mentally throwing daggers on the client’s way, you grab a random fashion magazine from the side table and flip through pages, though other four senses are inclined on your man. With a close attention to his low sigh you conclude that he is done.

The customer with now a fresh tattoo on her arm is discussing random useless topics to get him to talk, a very vain job realizing how Jungkook doesn’t bat a friendly lash at anybody, especially to those who hit on him. To be honest a large part of the ink business was linked with the obsession to attractive people who worked here, even if it meant trading an area of your skin. You grip the edges of the magazine a bit hard, not able to contain the sanity particularly at the high pitch voice she mumbles in before finally leaving his cabin.

A little excited and a lot nervous, you stand up as Jungkook bids goodbye to the third person.

He is quick to notice your discomfort, though not sure if it was the woman or the thought of finally getting the tattoo, he knew you were nervous and surviving in several cups of espresso by the dark circles slowly showing through the faded layers of your concealer. But nothing pulls down the opinion he has about you, beautiful and simple, no dramatics attached.

“Hey are you okay?”

You nod as soon as you sit down on the black tattoo chair, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. He is taking out a box full of equipment and fine needles, already making you break a sweat at the side of your forehead.

But more than that, it’s the way he is sharp and professional that catches your attention more.

You have never seen Jungkook this serious before. The choice of his vetiver perfume digging through your nostrils was driving you insane. If he doesn’t smile soon, you are going to melt into a puddle at his gaze.

“Are you nervous?”, he smirks this time, a newfound reason for your worsening gut health.

It’s mostly going in cycles at this point. Every bit of his skilled motion causes a vigorous hormonal reaction which initiates his next set of effortless teasing.

“I’m a little nervous”, you say, fiddling with your freshly painted nude nails.

“Me too”

It’s something you least expect to come out of his mouth observing how confident he looks right now. He basically has you cornered with his gaze. But whenever he had been truthful about his emotions it felt like a hug.

“I can take off my shirt too, so that we are even. Is that okay?”

He said it so softly like he is handling a child and the duality of the situation had your mind fogged and limbs frozen for a few minutes.

“Yeah it’s okay” It’s far beyond than okay. It’s great actually.

Jeon Jungkook is ripped, a Greek God sculptured masterpiece covered in self designed artwork you are more than happy to wake up to every morning. He hears you gulp at the feast before your eyes while he discards his black t-shirt to a nearby chair.

Now you don’t know if this whole thing is supposed to warm your heart or make you play several erotic fantasies like a movie before your eyes.

Both of you share a small smile while his long fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head.

He almost wishes you don’t opt to wear a bra but he is met with lacy black, a-bit-over your-usual-budget fabric hugging the roundness of your breasts.

It seemed like you were way too competitive about today. Anything less than complete awe from Jungkook for you was straight disappointment, you don't want anything less.

Well it seems like it did from how blown his pupils were at this point. He peels his gaze off your chest with a sharp gulp to look at your eyes suddenly devoid of any fear and staring back at him with all ease. He is filled with an exapnse of warmth and he isn't sure why does spending just a little amount of time with you had such a grip on him. He can’t wait to propose the idea of getting a couple tattoo together soon and as far as you know how Jungkook is, he is very serious with his body art so apparently he does trust you a lot already.

“Where exactly are you trying to get it?”, his voice is a lot deeper suddenly as he waits for your fingers to guide to his canvas.

You softly trace the spot at the upper circumference of your right boob, “Here”.

You suck a breath through your nose as his own fingers are mimicking your gesture, lightly pulling down the lace to inspect the fitting of the design at hand.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Jungkook traces each word on your burning skin, now leaning dangerously close which was questioning your control to put your palms flat on his pecs. He doesn’t notice that though, his mind is busy creating his own fantasies about the women under him.

After two minutes and twenty four second long of inspection and mutual thirst, Jungkook is selecting a bunch of needles to set into the rotary machine. Five fine sharp like a painter's brush moves in and out at a set regularity as Jungkook tests it out.

The next of his actions had you flushed into a pool of crimson. He gently lifts up your resting torso with one hand while the other is unclasping the hook of your bra, making you half naked for the sake of the tattoo.

"I'm going to start", he says shyly.

You still have time to save yourself from the growing phobia for the object, but another unlogical part of your brain says it's a piece of cake considering you have a whole distracting full course meal in front of you.

It stings at first. Well, okay it hurts like hell but your face is devoid of any indication, except your right hand is gripping on the rim of the chair for dear life.

Jungkook on the other hand had never felt this much diversion of mind during his work. He knows that you are probably hurting very badly, especially for a first timer. He is biting into his lip ring, trying to get this over with for the well-being of your pain and his hormones.

After he had scribed one word into your dermis, you are no longer able to contain the ache so you give out a small squeak out of your glossed lips and the vibration of the machine at his hands stops as he looks at you.

"You want me to stop? ", he is relaxing his face as he cups yours with one hand. You don't want to answer that question, but the drumroll of the current situation is making your heart flutter and everything about the little burn on your chest is forgotten.

"No. It does hurt but I'll be fine I guess", you whisper. His breath is mixing with yours slowly as he is leaning more towards your face. If it isn't for a kiss then you are likely to be disappointed.

"It'll be over before you know it. I'll make it quick", and then he kisses you, a small act to get off the pressure of sexual tension between your bare upper bodies.

Before you think of any tongue in the act, he is breaking off the contact and returns to his position on your chest. He misses the pout that forms on your mouth but right now both of your heads are in cloud nine.

The pain starts again, only this time you are busy reliving how his lips felt in yours; soft, firm and controlled.

You gasp when you feel one of his hands cupping your right breast to further his design but it's lowkey an act empowered by lust which is straining behind the so called professional eyes.

You just sit there flustered out of your mind and then Jungkook is suddenly squeezing, full palm hiding your breasts like it's a protected treasure, but he isn't showing the slightest facial expression other than determined eyes and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Fuck you can't take it anymore. Jungkook can feel your nipples harden against his hand and his brain isn't helping much to concentrate on the design. But by the grace of some positive karma left on his side, he makes it through the long text and when he is letting go of your chest and standing tall, your skin is popping out with redness on the places the text lays embedded.

He fishes out a mirror for you to look.

"It looks beautiful thank you Jungkook", you smile.

"Can I give you one more tattoo on your left one?", he asks while you are contemplating whether going through the pain is worth it, not to mention you really want to get back at a private space with Jungkook as soon as possible.

"It won't hurt I promise", and then he is kissing you a lot filthier than before; all tongue and teeth, while his hands are grazing on the skin of your waist, pressing a little firmer than before.

The coldness of his lip ring rivaled around your mouth, and you try sucking on it to which Jungkook responds with a growl and pushes his body adamantly against yours.

Skin to skin, you are lost in euphoria of everything happening and finally, you roam your eager hands around his body, to his pecs and the definition of abs.

As your fingers scraped against his scalp, Jungkook is biting eagerly down your jawline to your collarbone and continues his ministrations at a particular spot which is bringing out melodic moan variation from you.

He is going down your skin, licking on your left boob before he starts planting violet tattoos as he had promised. As if it couldn't get better, he is massaging the right breast, in a way to soothe pain.

He loses it when you stutter his name, but he is just a fucking tease when it comes to making love and doing anything in a public space is the last thing he wants to do. There isn't much room for all that he wants right now.

"Why did you choose this particular tattoo Y/n?", he rasps while he is planting small pecks on his artwork, and you reply when he is finally eye level with you

"I just felt like it's a good one", your breaths are uneven and mostly caught in your neck. He pecks your lips before speaking, "Those are lines from Romeo and Juliet".

He takes your hands to trace over a line of text among the many designs on his chest.

which, as they kiss, consume

"We pretty much have a couple tattoo now Y/n", his breath is matched with your pace and you are not very sure how to respond to this new knowledge.

"That's… hot"

You break into giggles along with him, he just can't stop dragging his lips around your skin, but he isn't able to word his feelings right now either.

"I have some aftercare healing ointment for the tattoo at my place, wanna come over?" Now that may be a little lame of an excuse to get his little friend out of his pants but you are too unfazed to analyse any of that.

His hands find place on your ass under the skirt as soon as the door to his apartment closes, and before you know it, you are in his bedroom, sitting on the soft mattress and tongue lost devouring each other.

While eagerly getting rid of every article of clothing, Jungkook notices that you don't have your bra on beneath the shirt, so it's probably back at the parlour, but none of you have the slightest care for it, might as well make an excuse with it later to fuck you in his cabin.

He is pushing you farther towards the headboard, him on top, grinding sensenslesy while your lips mould with his. Though he has his whole body pressed against you, you can't seem to feel his weight at the slightest, every one of his actions were just balanced and perfect.

As Jungkook goes down on you, his smile is evident against your skin, finally able to find out how every one of those scenarios in his head will come to look like. He lets out a satisfied hum being finally able to suck on your tits, your fingers finding place on his hair, twisting it out of stimulation.

His pelvis is flushed harshly against yours, grinding and rubbing against your pussy for as long as he is rejoicing the feeling of moving his tongue around both the nipples.

He stops rubbing after some point and you whimper at the loss but his fingers are soon to meet your core as a quick apology. All your later moans are muffled on his mouth once again.

Feeling the controlled movements of his fingers on your clit, you dig your nails down on his toned shoulders. It's becoming impossible to reciprocate his lewd movements of tongue on your lips at this point as the excitement between your thighs is growing every passing second.

Your mouth remains slightly parted as he removes his face to watch you squirm underneath, lips swollen, deep red and glossy from all the saliva.

He pecks at the shell of your ear before going down past your navel.

You haven't had much heads in the twenty years of your life, most of the guys being completely against the idea which made you feel insecure to bring up the topic in bed, but Jungkook does it like his life depends on it.

He growls at the sight of you dripping into his sheets and he seems to enjoy the idea of being the influence behind it. But none is going through your head at the moment, not the metal on his lips grazing against your folds, or the fact that Jungkook is grinning each time you cry his name, it feels unreal to feel something like this.

His mouth is wrapping against your entrance and he is balancing your lower body on his palms to help him reach the right depths inside you. While all you can muster up is the strength to grope the bedsheets in your fist and close your eyes at the pleasure.

Jungkook brings his head higher to give some attention to the throbbing clit, catching it between his teeth and triggering the bundle of nerves just the perfect dose to have your hips jolting up to his face.

He can't take it himself when you are now whining and chasing for your release, so he is slightly humping against the bed to get some friction.

He licks a slow stripe up till your abdomen and slowly raises to your face, already fucked out and dishevelled to keep up with his dominant orbs.

He swears he had never felt so much warmth and care for sex with any of his previous partners, in relationship or not, all he could think is how good can he treat the pleading eyes underneath him.

"Is there something you like that you want me to do?", he says, fingers grazing once again to your crotch to not deny you from his contact. Only this time he is exploring the tightness of your pretty cunt with two skillful fingers.

Is there? You are not sure. Or in other words you are too caught up at the sense of him fingering you. It's not like you had enough experience or people who cared enough to ask that question. It astounds you that never in this entire foreplay he asked for any favor for himself.

"I'm not sure…", you whisper and then maybe you have something on your mind " um I guess I would like to be choked" Okay this felt embarrassing.

He smiles before sliding his free hand from your lips to your neck, and applies slight force, careful to not hurt you in the slightest bit.

"Is that fine?"

"Yeah", you muffle through the decreasing course of air.

He pulls up your face by the throat to attach lips once more. He just can't seem to get enough of kissing you senseless. Then, the tip of his long ignored cock is teasing the length of your pussy twice before it's stretching you out to the brim.

Bodies flushed and hot, his pace is deep and slow, making sure to kiss the cervix every time he is inside.

He watches as your eyes close shut and flutters around whenever he is grazing against your sweet spot. Both of your ears lost and eager for the moans looming out of each other, his more like what he sounds at the gym. Nice observation Y/n.

In this span of sexual energy you shared, you can make some obvious conclusions. Sex with him was surreal, both in terms of domination and the care he had. Rocking against him and keeping up with his hips was attainable�� Compared to the intense eye contact he tries to hold, or the way he cups the side of your face and rubs the pad of his thumb on your cheeks while he kisses you during sinking back in, or the way his eyes glow at the beauty of your body open for him. It makes you feel special and it's difficult to respond to these gestures when you never felt this way before.

Jungkook could tell that from your face, but he hopes he lasts with you enough to help you know the worth you hold. You couldn't think too much about anything when you are busy squeezing around his length and coming twice in the first ten minutes.

By the third orgasm Jungkook is nearing his own and he pulls out to pump a few times before coming on your stomach.

"Was it okay?", his voice is all over the place, still balancing his body on his arms while you are amazed by his strength.

"It was amazing Jungkook", you smile. You have known a lot about Jungkook over the few dates you spent with him. That he likes literature, classics and philosophy, designs tattoos as a subconscious thing, that his game is A-1, and he likes working out almost three hours a day. Good for you. But it wasn't until now you know him to be gentle, like he is afraid to crush you under a feather touch. You don't know him as someone who is staring deep into your face after a good fuck, speaks nothing, smiles widely, and plants a peck on your forehead before getting off the bed.

He does the honors of cleaning both of your bodies with a towel, it's not like you have any strength left in you anyway. And then pulls out an ointment from the bedside table and plops next to your body.

"There. You need this to protect the tattoo", he takes off the nozzle and applies a required amount against the words on your chest and massages against them.

"Now go to sleep Juliet", he mocks, pulling up the sheets over you both "good night".

You snuggle against his hard chest, kissing his pecs before resting on it, "Good night Romeo".

thank you so much for reading!! please leave a feedback!!

★ taglist: @pjmochii (dm, ask or comment to enter the tl!)

★ credits: @/rainbeary on spotify : songs that'll make you feel everything's in slow motion playlist

★ banner & boards: by me :)

a/n: this is my first time writing smut and i basically died of second hand embarrassment during the process. pardon for my untalented ass, i tried this wip continuously for a week and i seriously don't think it could get anything better though it's probably not much.

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edie-baby · 3 years ago

Text

to have and to hold | juri vips

summary: Juri Vips was a bastard of a teammate. Mostly just because you were insanely in love with him and his flirtatious ways. Juri senses a change in your behaviour and when things begin going back to normal, Juri just fucks it up again. (Similar premise to the Mr & Mrs imagine with Liam, but different[?])

word count: 2894

warnings: swearing, still. i don't think i should have to put warnings about swearing anymore, it's basically a given.

Working with Juri Vips was a fucking trainwreck. There was no light way to put it, it was messy, it was painful, and yet you could never stop fucking staring at him. Being his teammate in F2 for the past year and a half, the two of you had gotten quite close, to the point where his family invited you on vacation with them when they were going, and you had joined them once, but realised about two hours in, that it was a thinly veiled attempt from literally his entire family to get the two of you together.

And while you were all for it, being forced to spend so much time with Juri, while he was shirtless nonetheless, was a literal dream come true, it was also incredibly painful for you to stop from pouncing on him at any given moment. Because as much as his family thought there was something between you, it was purely Juri’s charisma and character to be almost constantly flirting with you.

You remember the first time the two of you, a few other F2 drivers had come along as well, had gone to the beach and he had seen you bust out the bikini you knew made you look like a hot piece, he hadn’t shut up about it, or you, for weeks afterwards.

“Well look at you, little miss supermodel. I would have thought you’d be walking catwalks with legs like that, not pushing pedals like the rest of us. God, you look like you just stepped out of my dreams and onto this beach. If you keep looking like that, I think I might have a problem to deal with later in the shower.” He had hollered, and many of the guys around you either joined in or had nothing to say but gawk. Juri’s comments had cemented themselves in your brain however, calling back upon them whenever you felt less than top dollar, which you had to admit was becoming more often in recent months.

Juri had noticed your slowly waning confidence, of course he had. His gorgeous view of you in crop tops, little skirts, and tight shorts had turned into oversized shorts, hoodies, and ill-fitting jeans. All of which still made you the most beautiful girl in the world, but there was something missing from your aura, a general happiness that had been lacking since the new season started a few months ago. In the entire time Juri had known you, you were never one to listen to other’s opinions of you, whether they be good or bad, the only people you had ever listened to and taken words to heart from were himself, your parents, and your boyfriend.

Somehow in the span of about three minutes, Juri had tracked the four most likely culprits of your diminished ego. He knew he hadn’t said anything harmful or damaging to you since the season began, as many of your conversations had revolved around racing, other drivers in the paddock, or your family. Your parents, he was confident in, he had met them many times before, and they were always genuinely warm and welcoming, he supposed there might have been another side to them, though he believed he would have picked up on it by now. Which leaves only your boyfriend, whom Juri had zero confidence in.

Tye was nice, almost disgustingly so, but he was also much too proud of being nice for it to be genuine. He would open car doors for you, give you flowers every few months, and once bought you a necklace with a pendant of his name. But you would never forget that he did those things for you, because as soon as you would mention something relatively negative, those few acts of kindness were shoved down your throat.

Juri, of course, was not privy to that information. All he knew was that Tye’s possessive behaviour and complete lack of care for your wishes meant that there was something beneath the surface Juri was sure was the reason for your confidence, or lack thereof.

So when you came into work one day, to continue shooting some videos for the YouTube channel, wearing a gorgeously fitted pair of jeans, and a halter-neck singlet, Juri knew something was afoot. Also notable was your lack of gold necklace and your beaming smile toward the Estonian.

“You gonna keep staring like that, or do you want to take a photo?” You asked, your voice holding the teasing lilt Juri had missed in the past weeks. Without breaking his gaze from your body, Juri reached into the pocket of his shorts, his hand retrieving his phone and taking a photo of you standing there, tight clothes and bright smile in all its glory. He smirked when he saw your barely concealed smile.

“You’re in a much better mood than usual. What happened?” Juri couldn’t help but ask, the drastic shift in your mood was more than intriguing to him. Your smile widened, taking the last few steps toward his position in a chair behind the large conference table.

“I lost 80 kilos last night.” You whispered, leaning in closer to Juri, the glint in your eyes, the proximity and the tone were all so familiar to him that he couldn’t help but meet you halfway, barely three inches between your faces as the words processed in his mind.

Juri glanced down at your body confusedly, trying to figure out where exactly the 80kg had disappeared from. Then, the pieces began clicking into place. The lack of gold necklace, the tighter clothes, the glowing smile, none of which would have been staring Juri in the face if Tye had a say.

“You dumped Tye?” Juri questioned, his eyes lighting up, his raise in volume betraying just how excited he was for you, and himself. You nodded, eyes softening as you watched the pure joy cross Juri’s face. Him being happy was something that always warmed your heart, but Juri being happy about you finally being happy? You were sure your knees were about to buckle.

“I’m glad. I can have you all to myself now.” Juri grumbled, reaching for your hands that were braced against the arms of his chair. With a sharp tug, your balance was offset, and your body was tumbling toward Juri’s. You landed with a giggle in Juri’s lap, his own laughter joining yours and the two of you simply enjoyed each other’s presence after having an intangible wall built between you during your relationship with Tye.

Juri couldn’t hold a taken woman like he loved her, not when that taken woman wasn’t his to hold. And you, how could you revel in the feel of man’s touch that was anyone’s but the man you supposedly loved. You couldn’t break out in goosebumps, or have a shiver roll down your spine when you felt the familiar pressure of his calloused fingertips pressing into the skin of your back, desperate to keep you close. You weren’t allowed to sigh in content when you felt the warmth of his body seep into your skin, or whimper when his hot breath rolled over the skin of your neck.

But now you could. Now, without the moral implications of enjoying another man, you could sink into this all-consuming feeling you have when Juri is near.

“Morning you two. We’ve got a video to film in the garage if you want to follow me?” The social media manager, Georgina, a lovely woman in her 40s whom you always went to for advice and style tips, poked her head into the room you and Juri were tangled in, a cheeky smile on her face when she spotted the somewhat compromising position. A blush fell heavy on your cheeks, and you were quick to try and scramble away from Juri.

He had other ideas though. When Juri began moving, you clutched onto him for dear life, terrified of falling to the ground even though it was only about two feet. Your arms circled around his neck, your legs fully wrapping around his hips from where you were straddling him on the chair. His large hands came to rest on the underside of your thighs, hoisting you up higher on his body. Your legs clenched around his middle, the feel of his fingers pushing into the soft skin of your legs was electrifying, and you were sure if you didn’t have a video to film, you would have been telling the Estonian to find an unoccupied office to take what he needed from you.

But alas, you had a job to do. So, still wrapped around Juri like a vice, he carried you through the Hitech office, nodding to other staff you passed, and occasionally nuzzling his nose into your neck to get a good whiff of your perfume. Juri had said multiple times the scent was intoxicating and could bring any man to his knees. You may have gone out and bought an extra bottle to ensure you never ran out after that.

After a few minutes, you stepped into the garage with Juri, well, he stepped in you just kind of floated in. The scent of grease, rubber and a slight hint of fuel invaded your nostrils, and you sighed in content. Juri chuckled at your actions, he always loved watching you step into a garage, or out onto the pit lane to take in the smells of burnt rubber. You told him every time he laughed at you that it evoked a calm feeling within you, it was nostalgic, filled with happy memories from your childhood and the memories of races you shared with Juri on track.

“Alright lovebirds, can we get you in these chairs and we’ll start explaining while we finish getting set up.” Georgina stated, smiling fondly at the love between her two youngsters. Juri sat you down in one of the chairs sitting before the cameras, not leaving your side for long as he planted himself in his own chair and dragged you as close as possible.

Georgina explained the rules of the game, and the way you would be playing it, choosing you to sit in the background listening to music whilst Juri answered questions about you. First, they gave you a list of questions about yourself, asking to circle the correct answers and they would be compared to Juri’s during the game.

“Ok Juri, the first question. How old was Y/N when she started karting?” Georgina questioned. She watched you in the background closely to ensure you couldn’t hear anything, but you were blissfully unaware of everything around you, headphones in your ears, legs tucked up on the chair, scrolling through your phone with the occasional giggle escaping your lips. Each time Juri heard the angelic sound, he would turn to look at you with a look so soft it made the entire team’s heart swell.

“Uh, I think she was 10, I know she started late because she had to argue with her parents to let her do it with her brothers, and I think 10 is about the right age.” Juri answered, looking as though he was thinking quite hard about it. It had been a long time since the two of you discussed your start in karting, it was one of the first conversations you had together, and since then you hadn’t had to talk about generic teammate topics. Juri was proud that he remembered something seemingly insignificant from a year and a half ago, but supposed when it came to you he could never forget a thing.

“Alright, next question. What is Y/N’s biggest fear? Is it A, the ocean, B, goblins, or C, heights?” Juri’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he heard the second answer, trying to figure out why it was even an option in the first place. His eyes focused on one spot on the floor, his brain moving a mile a minute to analyse conversations he had with you.

“Well, we’ve been to the beach together a few times, and thinking back I don’t think she’s ever gotten into the water. So maybe the ocean, but she also said once when we were looking at a castle that she doesn’t like gargoyles, so goblins could be a thing. But she’s definitely not scared of heights. She’s gone skydiving, bungee jumping and climbed bridges and things like that. So I’m going to say the ocean. I feel like I would definitely know if she was scared of something like goblins.” Juri laughed, his eyes still glued to the spot on the floor, his thoughts flowing through his mouth with little consideration of how they could be interpreted.

“What is something Y/N never leaves the house with?” Georgina was hopeful for this question, she was sure it could be the catalyst for the two drivers to finally own up to their feelings after reading your answer. Juri listened to the multiple choice answers, but none of them sounded just right.

“So, the rings sound the closest, but sometimes she will wear lots, and other times only a few, and when she can’t wear them on her hands, she’ll thread it onto a necklace to wear under her race suit, or something so yeah, I’d say the rings.” Juri answered, turning to look at you behind him, wearing the exact ring he was talking about on the ring finger of your right hand.

“And what ring is the one she wears on her necklace?” Georgina probed, knowing the answer and just wanting to see the way Juri heated up when he talked about it.

“Uh, it’s a diamond ring that has a J engraved on the inside.” Juri answered, his cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. A smile broke out on your face as you watched Juri, his flustered state always made you giggle as he was such a confident and put-together person usually. As a habit, you began spinning the ring on your right hand around, feeling the shape of the diamonds and knowing the initial carved into the inside was a claim over you.

“Do you know where she got it?” Georgina asked. She was getting frustrated, Juri was much more calm about revealing the intimacy of the ring than she had hoped.

“I gave it to her. About a year ago, and then she gave me a necklace with an (your initial) on it. I wear it every day, and it’s the only piece of jewellery I wear while I drive.” Juri answered, his fingers reaching up to toy with the thin gold chain hidden beneath his shirt. He looked over his shoulder at you, spotting the spinning ring immediately and smiling at you.

You looked up at him, a dazed look as you stared at the gorgeous man in front of you. He could see the stars in your eyes, staring at him as though he hung the moon, and if he was honest with himself, if you asked, he would. There was nothing you could ask of him that would be too much, even if you didn’t ask, he would do everything for you. No one had ever held this power over him, he wasn’t even sure it would feel this good if it were anyone else, but you just did something to him. You unlocked a part of him he didn’t know existed.

You were just, everything. To him. You were everything he ever wanted, ever needed, even everything he didn’t know he needed. You opened him up, poured sunshine into his life in the form of your smile, happiness penetrated his bones because of your laugh. He didn’t want to lose that again, didn’t want to lose you to another man. He needed you, and he needed you now.

It was like slow motion, the way Juri surged out of his chair toward you, his hands cupping your jaw roughly as he guided you to your feet. The laptop on the ground pulled the earphones from your ears, your phone clattering to the floor in your surprise. Your hands reached up to fist in his shirts, not wanting to lose this proximity. You had him in your grasp and you’d be damned if you ever let him go again.

Juri pressed his lips to yours, as soft and warm as you’d imagined them so many times before. You kissed him back with ferocity, the eighteen months worth of emotion poured into a kiss to communicate your feelings in a way that didn’t need words. He kissed back just as fiercely, his hands holding your face still to allow him to do exactly what he needed. You were pliable to his every demand, putty in his hands. Juri had always had this effect on you, every fleeting touch or brush of a hand on your waist made your knees weak and your stomach flutter with the force of a thousand butterflies.

Juri pulled away, barely a breath between your lips as he panted slightly. Your eyes were trained on his lips, the fullness of his bottom lip, the redness from your assault on them making them look all the more kissable.

“So, how about we switch that ring to the other hand and really make this a Mr & Mrs video?”

#juri vips #juri vips imagine #juri vips fanfic #juri vips x reader #f2 2021 #formula 2 #f2 fanfic #hitech gp

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gashinabts · 4 years ago

Text

Camera Boy (m)| Part I

Words:4.5k

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, MATURE, 18+

Summary: Jungkook loves filming. Jungkook takes up your offer on filming you throughout the day...and night.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, hair pulling, sex filming, slapping tits and ass, degradation, humiliation kink, mention of public sex, teasing, slut is mentioned a lot.

A/N: I haven’t posted in like months. I’m sorry for the lack of posting I haven’t been in the right mental state at the moment. I promise I will be posting more!! Thank you for the people who comment and like my fics. It really means a lot for me!!!! Yoongi, Jungkook, & Reader are the same age (18). There will be THREE parts to this :))))

Part 1 2 3

*** This is my work, no reposting this and my other works on any other platforms. I do NOT take plagiarism lightly.

Jungkook is a quiet guy, who spends his time filming and editing videos. He is in the audiovisual club and was always seen around school with his Panasonic Lumix gh5 filming the school events since he was also part of the year book club. Not many of his classmates knew him by his name but as JK, even during roll call teachers would call him by JK. His fashion taste was dark, often dressing in all black and wearing bucket hats. Sometimes he would just fade away in the background but he didn’t care.

Jungkook was editing a video for the cheer team in the audiovisual club classroom, but his fingertip halted at the mousepad when he felt a presence entering the room. He sees you walking in with your white tennis skirt and pastel green cardigan. He doesn’t understand why you would dare walk in this room. You’re Y/N, the school’s sweetheart, nice to everyone and everyone wanted to be your friend. He watches you smile and come closer to him, grabbing a chair and sitting next to him. “ Hey, Jungkook. What are you up to?,” you lean over to see his laptop screen. He smells the light floral perfume and he feels like he shouldn’t have the privilege of smelling your floral scent.

This wasn’t the first time you spoke to him, a couple times you would say hi to him during the events he filmed. But you did that to everyone saying ‘hellos’ and ‘how are yous ?’, because you didn’t want anyone to feel left out. “ Uh-editing this video for the cheer team. This would be my last video I would do for this school,” he scratches the back of his head. In the next three days he wouldn’t be a high schooler anymore. He would leave this place and major in film in a college in California.

“ Cool, I really like your videos. I heard that you were going to UCLA and doing film. That’s pretty exciting, maybe we’ll bump into each other around campus,” you smile gently.

Jungkook was shocked to hear that you knew what school he is going to attend. In the back of his head he wished that you guys would bump into each other and become friends. “ Maybe...so what’s up?,” he closes his laptop to face you. Which he regrets since he won’t be able to focus on anything you say since you are so pretty.

“ I want you to film me...I want to give it to my friends as a goodbye gift,” you cross your legs. “ I’ll pay you for your hard work,” you reach into your bag grabbing your wallet.

“ No, it’s fine you don’t have to pay me,” he stops your manicure nails from grabbing some bills.

You shake your head and he watches as your diamond earrings sparkle, “ No, I insist. I would feel really bad about it, Jungkook. Your work is top quality, better than those shitty Youtubers, even better than some of Quentin Tarantino works,” you proceed to take out the money.

Jungkook eyes widen at your statement. No one has ever complimented his videos like you did. The closest compliment he has ever gotten from someone is ‘Looks good.’ Your soft hands brush his as you hand him the money, “ Thanks. We can start after I’m done with the cheer video,” he quickly puts the money in his pocket.

You get up, tugging at your skirt since it rose up when you sat down. “ Great! I’ll see you later,” you gave a small wave and left the classroom.

----

“ I’m going to start filming, alright?,” Jungkook asked as you throw some things out of your locker in the trash can.

“ Go ahead,” you smile at him. “ Look at how much stuff I have. It’s all useless stuff now,” you throw some more math tests away. He films you walking around the halls and greeting some people. Along with some chit chat, he admires the way you genuinely care about what your friends are talking about. He likes the way your hands move while you talk, and how touchy you are with your friends. He notices that you playfully hit your friends’ shoulder when they make you laugh really hard. Jungkook learns more about you when you answer the questions he gives you. He learns about what you love about your friends and how much you are going to miss them.

You invite him to your house and he films you baking a cake for Mina’s birthday. You tell him the story of how you and Mina became friends. The fondness of your voice can be heard at spreading the strawberry icing on the cake. “ Want some?,” you ask, showing him the leftover frosting on your index finger. He looks confused by what you're asking. “ The frosting. Have some,” you bring your finger closer to him.

Jungkook wonders if you know what you are doing. He could have not possibly licked the sweet frosting off your fingers. “ I-I uh no, it’s okay,” he fumbles with his camera, turning it off and hastily putting it in his bag. “ I think this is it for today,” he puts his backpack on.

“ Okay...see you tomorrow,” you walk him out of your house.

----

The cafeteria is filled with the tune of Happy Birthday, Jungkook films you as you bring the pink cake in front of Mina. Zooming in on Mina’s face, he sees the evident rose blush that turns brighter as all the attention is on her, your lips kiss her cheek as you wish her a happy birthday under your breath.

“ Jungkook, you can stop filming and have some cake,” you say as you slice a cake for him. His eyes widen and you chuckle as hand him the cake. The lunch table is filled with laughter and he feels like he’s almost part of the friend group. Some of your friends ask him questions and bring him in some of the conversation. Jungkook starts filming again and asks more questions towards your friends on what they are going to miss the most about each other. By the end of lunch he feels like he’s got good content and wants to start editing.

You walk with him towards the AV room, and you hug him just outside the classroom. He feels your slightly smaller body engulf him in your warmness. His arms are awkwardly staying by his side and his heart rate quickens as seconds pass. You pull away and smile at him, “ Thank you Jungkook. It really means a lot for you to do this.”

“ No problem. You did pay me for this…,” he awkwardly states. He wants to slap himself for always being too abrupt with you. “ I mean it was kinda fun filming you. You radiate this wholesome energy,” he tries to compliment you.

Laughing lightly you hit his shoulder, “ Wholesome, huh? I was thinking maybe we should keep in touch so we can have eachothers back while in California…” you quirk your eyebrow, shrugging your shoulders nervously. Jungkook face blanks and you quickly retract your words, “ Nevermind, we don’t have to-”

“ No, I’d like that!,” his voice raises at the end. He rubs his head, “ Yes, let’s keep in touch.” Your phone pings and you smile at a text message quickly typing away. Jungkook clears his throat causing you to look up at him, “ I feel like we have everything for the video. I should be done editing by the end of the week.”

“ Cool, I’ll see you later,” you wave at him and watch him enter the classroom.

At home Jungkook is meticulously working on the video not wanting to disappoint you. He’s in deep entrance of you talking in the video, he jumps when he feels a hand on his shoulder. Taking off his headphones he sees his mom staring at his laptop and he closes it immediately. “ Mom! Why did you knock?,” he whines. He doesn’t know why he feels embarrassed, it’s not like he was watching porn.

“ I did knock but there was no reply. Who’s that your girlfriend?,” she gleefully smiles wanting to peek more at the video.

Jungkook groans and leaning his head back,“ No, just a girl. She paid me to do this video for her friends.”

She hums lightly brushing her son’s slightly long hair, not wanting to bother her son anymore she quickly states that dinner is ready.

----

Jungkook thinks you're going to ignore him the next morning since he was done filming you but you don’t. Instead you walk towards him snapping a polaroid of him and laugh at his surprised expression. “ This marks the end of a chapter to the beginning of a chapter in our life,” you tell him waving the polaroid.

Jungkook rubs his eyes from the sudden flash, “ What do you mean?,” he asked for more information for your vague providence.

The short white dress you wear waves in a similar fashion as gold hoops dangle from your ears, “ We are ending our chapter of highschoolers today but I’m now beginning a chapter with you...as in the beginning of our friendship,” you look closer at the photo smiling at his doe eyes.

“ Y/N!,” your name is called out by Chaeyong.

“ I’ll talk to you later, yeah?,” you watch him nod and walk towards Chaeyong.

Jungkook sighs and puts his headphones on and plays on his phone as he walks to his locker. He bumps into someone and he is about to say sorry but the words couldn’t come out. Yoongi stands in front of him with a glazed expression. Never in his time of attending this school has he come this close to Yoongi. Yoongi is a quiet kid, he can’t be described as a delinquent since he doesn’t start in any trouble but he does voice his opinion from time to time and teachers hate that. Afterschool he watches the football team on the bleachers smoking cigarettes with his friends. The teachers don’t say anything because it’s after school hours and honestly they couldn’t care less if he would end up getting lung cancer in his mid thirties.

Yoongi’s skin is soft and pale, and his eyes are dark, he has this intimidating aura that Jungkook didn’t feel comfortable with. “ Sorry,” Jungkook finally mutters out. Yoongi doesn’t say anything but walks past Jungkook, lightly brushing his shoulder with his. He can smell the dark cologne trying it’s best to bask the nicotine scent. Even though this may be the last time seeing Yoongi, he does not want to get on his bad side.

---

Jungkook just got out of the shower when he sees that he got a missed call from you, he calls you back curious to what you have called him for. You immediately pick up,“ Hey! Are you busy right now?”

Jungkook puts his phone on speaker, “ No, not really...why?,” he answers while putting on his boxers.

“ Just bored...wanna hangout?,” you let out a sigh.

Jungkook fingers combs through his damp hair, looking at his appearance through his bathroom mirror. He’s wearing comfortable baggy clothes and he wonders if he should dress up. “ Sure, what are we going to do?”

“ You ask too many questions. Just come over and bring your camera!” Jungkook wasn’t able to say anything afterwards because you hung up. His father was shocked to hear that his son wanted to borrow his car because Jungkook wasn't the type to hangout outside of school with his friends. Jungkook’s father was actually happy to hear this and asked if he needed any money and he politely declined his father. When arriving at your house he saw that no one else was parked on the driveway, his anxiety getting the best of him. He decided not to park in the driveway since he didn’t want to seem rude. He shoots you a text upon his arrival, and you open the door for him, greeting him with a smile.

“ My parents are visiting some family members and my sister is probably gonna spend the night with her boyfriend...so it’s just us,” you lead him to your room. He looks around your room and easily spots a minimalist aesthetic “ Sorry I just exercised. I’m going to take a quick shower,” you tell him, urging him to make himself comfortable.

Jungkook gulps and sits on the chair by your desk. He sees makeup products and some old homework assignments that you yet to discard. There are several manga volumes and decide to read one hoping that you don’t mind. He’s a couple chapters in when he hears someone calling your name and coming upstairs, he freezes staring at the door wondering if your parents came home early. The door opens and he jolts when he comes face to face with Min Yoongi.

“ What the hell are you doing here?,” Yoongi walks straight to Jungkook grabbing at the collar of the shirt.

“ Uhh-I-I Y/N-,” Jungkook stammers out, cringing at how stupid he sounds. What the fuck why is Yoongi in your room?

“ Yoongi!,” you yell at him. You come out of the bathroom only wearing a large t-shirt that covers just about to your mid thighs, your hair is still wet dripping on the shirt, and you come between the two men before Jungkook ends up with a black eye. Yoongi calms down as soon as you touch his wrist and he rolls his eyes at Jungkook gaping at the sight of him in your room. “ I didn’t expect you to come this early, Yoongi,” you look at Yoongi. You look nervously at the sight of Yoongi fuming ready to tear Jungkook's head.

“ What’s he doing here?,” Yoongi points at Jungkook.

“ I’m just as confused as to why I’m exactly here…,” Jungkook is picking up his camera bag ready to leave the house.

Your hand touches Jungkook's arm to cease him from leaving without your explanation, “ Stay please. Just let me explain,” you make eye contact with Jungkook. Nodding he sits down on the comfy chair, while waiting patiently for you to explain. Yoongi continues standing up despite you telling him to sit down too. “ I want you to film me and Yoongi,” you say confidently but there's a nervous shake near the end of your sentence, tugging nervously at the hem of your shirt, you look at Jungkook to see his reaction.

Jungkook heart races,“ Doing what?,” his voice shakes, he knows what it is but he needs to be absolutely sure.

“ Me fucking her, you idiot,” Yoongi grunts looking at Jungkook. Yoongi looks at you with concern, “ You are not doing this because of last week. Baby, I was half kidding of doing a sex tape,” he comes closer moving some of the wet hair strands out of your face.

Grabbing gently at his hand you kiss the back of his hand, “ I want to do it. When Jungkook was filming me I thought it wouldn’t be so bad for him to film us...just as long as no one else sees it, right?,” you look between Yoongi and Jungkook. Yoongi nods his head immediately in agreement but Jungkook looks hesitant scratching at his head.

“ I’ll do it. You can trust me, Y/N,” Jungkook finally says. Jungkook thinks to himself that this is the only opportunity he’ll ever see you naked so he’ll be an idiot to say no. The thought of him filming you in such a vulnerable way is erotic yet beautiful to him.

“ Really?,” your eyes widen in excitement. Walking towards Jungkook you grab his hand giving him a comforting squeeze. Yoongi sighs at your actions but you ignore him looking at Jungkook’s pretty eyes.

“ Yeah of course, Y/N. Let me get my stuff ready,” Jungkook feels your hand leave his and he goes through his camera bag. He watches you go to Yoongi and he hears Yoongi talking softly to you, caressing you as nod cutely to him. “ I’m all set,” Jungkook speaks clearly, interrupting the conversation that you and Yoongi had. “ Just do whatever you guys are comfortable with,” Jungkook gulps when Yoongi leads you to the bed.

Yoongi brings you on his lap, not hesitating to bring his lips to yours. You sigh at the feeling of his hands massaging your bare thighs feeling them move closer to your ass. The kiss grows more messier with each second, and you start grinding on him trying to relieve yourself. His hand grabs the back of your neck and he hums while forcing you to look at him. “ Who said you can do that?,” he tsk at the sight of your desparation. Yoongi turns your head whispering, “ Look at the camera.” Listening to his command you see Jungkook behind the camera and you feel more shy at Jungkook looking at you in a desperate state. “ Don’t act so coy. You like the thought of someone watching us,” he laughs lightly, his hand going under your shirt rubbing your stomach up and down not going anywhere you need him the most. “ Camera boy,” Yoongi sardonically calls Jungkook.

“ Yes…,” Jungkook replies with hesisitance.

“ Come closer to us,” Yoongi continues touching your body.

Jungkook slowly walks closer to you and Yoongi, he has the camera focus on your face and smile shyly at him. Yoongi kisses your neck leaving a few love bites, finally letting his reach to your breast fondling it as you stare at the camera. “ Yoongi, I want more,” you squirm when he pinches your nipple at your plea. “ I’ll be good for you,” you beg and turn your head so you can kiss him again. It seems like he’s done with the teasing when he pulls your shirt over your head, quickly wrapping his mouth on your nipple. Tossing your head back you moan at the feeling, Jungkook brings the camera closer to your face. It turns you on more that he’s watching you in this state.

Yoongi's mouth leaves your nipple and lets out a dark laugh, “ Look at her, she’s a whore for attention,” he slaps your breast causing you to hiss in delight. Yoongi stares into the camera “ Did you know she would beg me to fuck her behind the bleachers?” The question is more posed for Jungkook rather than the camera. If Yoongi is honest he doesn’t like Jungkook. His distaste for Jungkook started when he noticed that his girl was taking an interest in Jungkook. Yoongi would see all pretty and perfect for the camera boy around school. He wanted to punch Jungkook when he sat too close to you during lunch looking at you like a kid in love.

“ Yoongi don’t,” you whine at him for not to spill more stories about your devious sexacpades. Yoongi manhandles you, taking your panties off, throwing it to the side, and commands you to get on all fours. You love when he gets serious and mad since he takes all his emotions on you as he fucks you. His hands rub your folds spreading your wetness, the pleasure gets the best of you and you slightly drop your head down.

He grabs your hair forcing you to look at the camera, “ Look at the camera,” he holds your hair tighter. He inserts two of his fingers in your entrance preparing you and you just want him to just shove his dick in you but he always makes sure you are completely prepared. “ Fuck, look at you soaking your sheets like a slut,” he laughs trying to make you feel more humalited. “ Always making a mess. Remember when I fucked you in the boys restroom at school,” he asked. Of course you remember he fucked you from behind and he gagged you with your own panties. You shake your head not wanting to let Jungkook know that you weren’t the model student in school. Yoongi let’s a boisterous laugh, “ Really? C’mon Camera Boy won’t tell anyone, right?,” Yoongi looks at Jungkook.

Jungkook is all lost with words, he didn’t know you had this side of you. It was just twenty minutes ago he found out that he were dating Yoongi and now he finds out that you would have sex on campus. The thought of you getting fucked in the bathroom turned him on, he envisioned you trying to keep your cute little moans quite. He wondered if you went back to class as if everything was normal with cum inside you. A small part of him wished it was him doing those things to you. He finally answers Yoongi, “ I won’t tell anyone,” he gives you a look of comfort.

“ Good because I would kill you if you do. See Y/N, no need to deny how much of a slut you are,” Yoongi kisses your shoulder. Your cheeks redden despite how much of his statement is true. He lets go of your hair and you hear him rustling with his pants, turning your head you see him stroking his cock. You have the sudden urge to want to taste him in your mouth. He makes eye contact with you and you can’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach. Turning your head back you stare at Jungkook, noticing his pants gone tighter. You wonder if Yoongi would be open to having Jungkook join. Maybe have him jerk off at the sight of you getting fuck by Yoongi. Or have him fuck your mouth as Yoongi takes you from behind. The options are endless and you get more wetter at the dirty thoughts. Your thoughts get interrupted when Yoongi slides his cock into you. His hands grab your hips possessively fucking into you deep and slow.

“ Fuck Yoongi,” you moan his name. His thrust is getting deeper and his hands tighten as you clench around him. “ Do I feel good?,” you look at the camera.

He groans and his thrust are faster, “Shit-yeah. I could fuck you all the time,” he slaps your ass. Nodding your head in agreement, “ Your gonna miss me fucking this tight pussy? ,” he slaps your ass again. You can’t answer because he spreads your legs further apart trying to hit you deeper. Making you land face first onto the mattress. Your face is probably not in view to the camera but you don’t care, you just want to get lost in the feeling of Yoongi fucking you to obilivion.

Jungkook comes to the bed and Yoongi watches him carefully as he pushes some of the hair that completely covers your face. Pushing the hair back he can see your pretty eyes that swarmed with lust along with your plump lips leaving out moans. “ Her face was covered. I just wanted a better shot,” Jungkook tries to defend himself.

Yoongi scoffs, “ Whatever man,” and he continues to fuck you at a faster rate. Causing you to moan his name louder. “ Such a fucking slut. Prancing around in your short skirts around school knowing guys would stare at you,” his hand finds your clit and pinches it. “ My little slut,” he whispers.

You feel your approach coming “ Can I cum? Pleaseee,” you whine more with each thrust. He rubs your clit faster, and you cry at how good he is fucking you.

“Come for me,” he slaps your clit. Your eyes roll back as you moan loudly as he keeps hitting the spot that makes you see stars. You can tell that Yoongi is about to cum as his movement gets sloppier, squeezing your waist. He groans your name as he cums in you. Yoongi slumps down on you, “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he whispers in your ear. You smile dumbly at his compliment. Yoongi gets up from your back, pulling himself out of you. Yoongi looks at Jungkook still holding his camera, “ You can stop recording,” he looks down and sees Jungkook sporting a boner.

“ Sorry,” Jungkook turns off the camera.

“ You’re good,” Yoongi disregards the needless apology. Yoongi hastily pulls up his boxers and pants, bending down he helps you turn around so you are now laying on your back. Leaning down he kisses you softly on your cheeks making his way to your lips. You sigh happily into the kiss. “ I love you,” he kisses you one last time.

“ No, I love you,” you smile cheekily.

Yoongi smiles pinching your nose,“ Brat.”

Jungkook stands in your room not knowing what to do just simply watching the interaction you have with Yoongi. “ I’ll have the video sent to you by tomorrow morning,” he interrupts the scene. He makes his way to his camera bag.

“ You should stay,” you tell Jungkook. Yoongi gives you a look, getting up from his position and going to your bathroom. You hear the water faucet and you assume he is getting a wet towel for you. Jungkook eyes widen, not knowing to accept or refuse your proposal since Yoongi is against the idea. “ Stay. I’ll order pizza and we can all watch movies. You know as a thank you for filming us,” you give him a hopeful smile.

Yoongi comes back with the wet towel, grabbing your shirt on the floor along with new panties.“ Jungkook, you can stay,” he looks at Jungkook. “ Spread your legs for me baby,” Yoongi kisses your knee. You do as you're told and he cleans you.

Million things are going inside Jungkook's head. Should he stay? Would that be weird? Wouldn’t it be more weird if he declined, he did see you and Yoongi naked already-- “ Jungkook what pizza toppings do you want?,” you ask while scrolling on the delivery app. He must have been spaced out for a couple minutes since you have clothes on. Yoongi is combing your hair through his fingers while looking at your phone. “ As long as it is not pineapple,” Yoongi comments.

“ Anything is fine,” Jungkook finally answers. He hears you hum and you order whatever topping you want. Jungkook puts his equipment on your desk, he decides to sit at the end of the bed not wanting to cross the line.

You finish ordering the food, laying your head on Yoongi’s chest, you stare at Jungkook awkwardly sitting on the bed. “ Come closer, we don’t bite,” you tell Jungkook. You pat beside you so he can come forward. Jungkook looks at Yoongi for permission and you roll your eyes. Looking at Yoongi, he nods his head as if to say okay. One Punch Man is playing and surprisingly there is no more tension in the room, but filled with careless laughter. The doorbell rings, “ Pizza is here, I’ll be back,” you kiss Yoongi on the cheek.

Jungkook prayed that you didn’t leave him alone with Yoongi but you already left. “ Jungkook, you’re going to the same school as Y/N, yeah? ” Yoongi asked but he still continues watching the anime.

“ Yeah,” Jungkook answers nervously.

“ Take care of her for me,” Yoongi finally looks at him.

Jungkook feels like Yoongi's words hold a deeper meaning but regardless Jungkook nods, “ Uhh-yeah okay.”

Yoongi moves his attention back to the anime once he hears your footsteps.

582 notes · View notes

mazuwii · 3 years ago

Text

Zeke SFW Alphabet

Flying monke

Hey bestie, I see you like Mr Monke😏

No shame! No shame!😤 I am writing the chapters everyone has requested but I got asked to do a Zeke alphabet first so here it is

—A (Affection. How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

•Not very physically affectionate in public, he tends to give you stares that gives you the same warm feeling you get from being hugged tightly.

•When you crash into him for a hug, he's so shocked and confused, his heart is dancing at the feeling of your warm little body right against his, affectionately rubbing his back. Before he knows it, he's silently crying, holding your face to his chest so that you don't see.

•Zeke never knew hugs felt so nice and now whenever he's feeling down or whenever you both have nothing to do, he randomly opens his arms up and waits for you to run into them. If you take too long all he does is twitch his hands slightly, which is funny and cute.

•I can see him being way more affectionate in the nighttime, where you're sleeping on him and you mumble under your breath, he kisses your head and strokes your cheek, lovingly gazing at you.

—B (Bestfriend, how would he be like as a best friend, how would the friendship start?)

•Zeke would be the bestest friend ever, sure he isn't the most affectionate or upfront friend but he is incredibly reliable!

•Always defending you behind your back. He insults you but then compliments and uplifts you behind your back to other people. Basically your lawyer.

•I will never stop saying this, Zeke Jaegar is intelligent as fuck and hates small talk so his conversations are so delicious, so full of flavour. His intelligence turns you on so hard, he is so fun to talk to because A, he makes fair points and teaches you things, B, he has a good sense of humour, C, he genuinely listens. He wants your opinion and understands your point of view on the subject.

—C (Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

•Before getting into a relationship, he always thought hugs would be stiff and horrible, especially in bed but he discovered that he was wrong.

•When you were spooning him, he couldn't nearly think straight from the appreciation he felt. Your arm was so secure around his waist and your body was warm against him, it was a feeling that made him wish he was immortal and experience this FOREVER!

•He likes it when you bring yourself to him, automatically. He finds it cute and always compliments you when you do. It isn't a full-of-shit-flattery compliment, he means it.

•"Why- on this gruesome green earth, are you so cute?" He kisses your head as you nestle yourself on his chest. "Mind telling me? Hm?" He pecks your head again and tightens his arm around you.

•One thing he will die to protect is you, he wants to hide you away from all the horrors of the world and treasures you so much and one way to do it is to tightly hold you right against him, melting at the sound of your giggle.

—D (Domestic. Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

•Zeke wants to live in a cottage with you, secluded from other humans. All the serenity of it relaxes him, it's one thing he'd never stop thinking about.

•Sure he wants to settle down but he'd never want to have kids. He sees himself as a failure to all and can see his little ones hating his guts, having to hear them exclaim how much they hate their papa (even if it's just his imagination) terrifies him.

•He felt like everyone hated him, but you and his grandparents and Mr Ksaver. Children would be too much stress

•As for cooking and cleaning, I don't think he's good with cooking or cleaning. He doesn't really make a mess so it's okay that he isn't good at cleaning

•However he isn't bothered with cooking actual food, he'd always just have fruit or instant noodles when he's hungry. So you'd have to be a good cook because my mans has no motivation for that stuff

—F (Fiance(e) How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

•Like I said before, Zeke isn't good on relationships so if you both last more than a year and he realises you've helped him as a person and he has helped you, he secures it.

•But proposing would be difficult, he's shy, scared, worried you may laugh and blow him off.

•Eventually he gives in and asks, a heavyweight washing off his shoulders when you said yes, even getting butterflies when he realised you were crying.

—G (Gentle. How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

•His inner child is bruised, you can see a little boy in him anytime he smiles properly, it makes your heart shatter to know that he never experienced his childhood properly and is currently a little boy in an old man's body

•He is gentle, he tries so hard to be soft with you and touches you like you're made of glass. H o w e v e r, my man does not hold back when it comes to baseball.

•Zeke is so happy when he's playing baseball with you that he doesn't realise he may have thrown too hard and only realises it when you grunt at the impact it made with your collarbone, dropping everything and running to check on you.

—H (Hugs. Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

•He hesitates at first when your smaller body collides with his, he had let out a small yelp but couldn't help smiling when your arms get tighter in desperation.

•Slowly and gently, he'd embrace you back and smell your hair.

•Zeke's hugs are warm, secure and surprisingly cuddly. He's too shy to hug you first, you'd have to hug him first and he'd not hesitate anymore. Sometimes, when he's missed you so much, he'd hug so tight that your legs float off the floor, completely powerless in his embrace.

—I (I love you. How fast do they say the L-word)

•Zeke thinks a lot so admitting that he loves you would be an epiphany, even years into the relationship. He genuinely can't believe someone loves him and stayed with him.

•He'd say it with a kiss to your forehead, small freckles of tears glistening in his eyes when he stares longingly at you.

—J (Jealousy. How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)

•Very jealous but he keeps it to himself. Especially when it comes to the opposite sex. He realises anytime a man talks to you and you smile around them, he can feel himself shrink. He's all dramatic in his head, wondering if he'd ever been enough for you or if you finally realised you deserved a better guy than him.

•All of those thoughts would disappear when you take his hand or talk to him with the tone you always use with him, a cheerful and appreciative one.

—K (What are his kisses like? Where does he like to kiss you? Where does he like to be kissed?)

•Zeke's kisses are hesitant and full of pauses. Sometimes you do most of the work, bringing him closer and all that while he's questioning if he deserves you.

•When Zeke tries to be affectionate, he likes to kiss your forehead, crown of your head, cheek, lips in private. It's reassuring and he loves his little lady more than anything. This small kiss passes on so much serotonin through your skull.

•Zeke doesn't have a specific preference but when you pepper his face with kisses it makes him so happy and fireworks go off in his tummy. With your hands gently cupping his face and your lips pressing every area on his face he softly holds onto you with a flustered smile.

—L (Little ones. How are they around children)

•Lol, he's like their older bro but a lil more distant

Let's move on...

—M (Morning. How are mornings spent with them?)

•Zeke's life is full of duties and priorities but he wishes with his full heart that he could spend the rest of his life lazily holding you with you peacefully laying by his side

•To his dismay, he must leave you to sleep. He has to get up earlier and doesn't bother waking up his sleeping angel, getting ready for work and leaving- not without kissing your cheek. Even if you're fast asleep, Zeke tucks you in and pecks your cheek, admiring you for a few seconds before heading on with his day.

•I'd say on good days, you make an effort to wake up with him and make breakfast so that he doesn't go to work and smoke ciggerates on an empty stomach. Fucking idiot, sorry but don't do that 🙄 even to my readers, don't smoke bestie💜

—N (Night. How are nights spent with them?)

•He does sleep at a reasonable time, sometimes at ten PM, sometimes at eight PM..

•Before bed he'd watch a documentary with you while having dinner and probably tire himself out by sucking in all that knowledge (the TV voice makes him sleepy, so you can see his eyelids drooping when he lies about how he isn't tired... it's cute)

•When it's time for bed he does the usual routine and gets into bed after smoking... which is pretty painful for you to watch but you won't scold him, you'll bring him closer to you and kiss his nose, massaging his scalp and becoming limp when his hand is soft at your waist, caressing patterns with his slender fingers until you fall asleep.

—O (Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

•Zeke thinks he is the scum of the Earth and wouldn't be surprised if you thought so too. It'd be difficult for him to mention any of his trauma so it all comes out through his humour.

•Daddy issues jokes, mommy issues jokes, self-deprecating jokes and you go through so many until you realise the man is traumatised. I can say with full confidence that he once tried making a joke for the millionth time and ended up crying instead of laughing. Of course, you were reassuring and comforted him in every way he needed.

—P (Patience. How easily angered are they?)

•Very patient when it comes to his S/O, he doesn't force anything out of you and slowly, gently speaks.

•Zeke doesn't become angry easily, honestly, he's so smart and open-minded that it becomes a problem because he understands so many things, unable to use his emotions to his advantage.

•Again, emotions pass and are useless to him, they just come and go so he doesn't like feeling too vividly. Especially anger, he thinks there's no use in it.

—Q (Quizzes. How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)

•Like I keep saying, Zeke is a smart, attentive person even when he doesn't mean to be. He pays attention to small details by accident and remembers subconsciously. He memorises a lot of your habits, bad and good and makes notes of when and where they mostly happen, adapting to your lifestyle without realising.

•Someone is asking what to get for your birthday and tries to get a type of chocolate flavour he remembers you despise and he gives away your full interests and a list of what you like, dumping an essay of your public info to one of your best friends and they're just like °_°...?

•It's cute, he just doesn't know his brain sucks everything about you in

—R (Remember. What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

•When you took him out to dance and the music suddenly switched from formal dancing to just 'go crazy' and he watched you GO OFF. You were shaking your hip and hopping around energetically, glaring at him for laughing his ass off over the loud music.

•You forced him to dance with you, both of you whipping your hair back and forth, your movements less stiff but nonetheless, in sync. He's never had so much fun. No one he knew was there, it was all strangers but he felt like only you and he were there, dancing freely to the music, he'd just follow your lead confidently

—S (Security. How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)

•Zeke is so protective, paranoid but never expressing it, knowing he'd sound insane:

-"Angel, I have to go out with you because what'll happen if you suddenly get run over?!"

-"No you can't use the phone while it's in charge, what if it explodes in your face?!"

-"Cookie dough, don't try handstanding, you could snap your neck!"

-"No, I won't let you go up these faulty escalators, they could suddenly break open and swallow you, here let me hold your hand up the normal stairs."

-"Don't lean against the balcony, you could fall over!"

•So instead he does it sneakily. Like small solutions, in order, he'd: offering to help you shop when you go out, making you put your phone down to massage him, scaring you into stopping your handstands, holding your waist securely when you're both on the balcony.

•To feel protected, Zeke needs constant reassurance from you. Physically and emotionally. A small kiss on his cheek and a little "Don't overthink, I'm here, let it all out, I'll listen to your thoughts."

—T (Try. How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

•I think Zeke is more of a private person but his dates can be fun too. For anniversaries, you'd both have turns. For his half of the day, it would be spent playing baseball, going to the arcade, taking you out to dinner and then he'd warmly hold your hands in his, asking you what you want to do now.

•His gifts are so thoughtful but he tries to be cool when he gives it to you, lips straight and eyes avoiding you like a shy schoolboy. He can't keep his cool since you have to attack his face with kisses🙄 Jees Y/n stop it, he totally doesn't go insane when you do that to him, totally isn't in love

—U (Ugly. What are some bad habits of theirs?)

•I'd say the damn smoking. Zeke chose an unhealthy coping mechanism and needs guidance out of it, so you do just that.

•Taking his cigarettes and helping him get the nicotine out of his body through skipping rope, taking him to the sauna and even massaging his scalp when he has a headache.

•If course it'd be such a shock to him when he realises how nice he feels after his addiction is over, it's amazing what getting rid of one bad habit can do to your life.

—V (Vanity. How concerned are they with their looks?)

•Zeke trimmed his beard shorter and did his hair when he realised he had seemed to be ageing faster but... for the sake of my selfishness this is a modern au

•Surprisingly, he actually has good skin, a nice beard and a good haircut. Zeke is beautiful.

•Only once, has he ever shaved fully and my guy looked 10 years younger and was lowkey getting cocky but he rathered the beard and let it grow out... not too long though

—W (Whole. Would they feel incomplete without you?)

•Zeke is like the moon, it's a bit dark but it's still useful, however, it needs the sun to give it a boost? So what I'm trying to say is you're the sun to him, life wouldn't feel the same now that you've made your mark

—X (Xtra. A random headcanon for them.)

•I don't care what you say, he can do the entire dance for boy with luv by BTS. He doesn't know why he knows it so well, he's only seen the dance rehearsal once (yes he memorizes pretty fast)

•extra but, by the way, Monke man can figure out a Rubix cube faster than a War breaking out in AOT so... haha very fast👁👁

—Y (Yuck. What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

•He doesn't like a controlling partner, not everything has to go your way babe, life is always going to steer you in a different direction and it sometimes is in a better direction than the one you had first intended.

•So there's that

—Z (Zzz. What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

•This is funny to me for some reason? But once he lets go of your cuddle, he subconsciously sprawls his body out, and he does it for the entire night even when you're on top of him, his clothes are somehow half-off. The pillows are everywhere, the blanket is under his heavy thighs so you're freezing on him :")

#zeke #zeke jaegar #zeke yaeger x reader #zeke yeager #zeke jaeger #zeke sfw #zeke sfw alphabet

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mykingdomforasong · 3 years ago

Note

Modern AU + Everybody Knows/Mistaken for a couple Skymandolo

[fanfiction trope mash up]

Rated M for some recreational drug use and sexually suggestive content.

Han was behaving himself, keeping an appropriate distance, sipping on his beer, and pretending like he wasn't wearing Din's bathing suit. The Skywalker beach house barbecue usually produced enough drama on its own. It didn't need Han contributing.

Lando, though, could see through just about anything.

"What's going on with you a Luke?" Lando asked. Han turned to him, trying to pretend like his eyes weren't just on Luke sunbathing by the pool.

"Nothing," Han said. He was, in his opinion, an expert liar.

"Oh please," Lando stirred his margarita with his straw, "you've got that 'Luke and I are back together, and I've never been so in love' face on," Han started to protest, but Lando cut him off, "which is noticeably different from your tragic pining face." Han furrowed his brow. He hadn't known that he even had a tragic pining face. "So what? Is Luke cheating on the daddy?"

Han tried to not let his look linger on Din for too long, who looked pretty fucking perfect in the pool, throwing kids up into the air and letting them splash back down.

"Luke would never, you know that," Han said. That was true.

"So there's really nothing between you two again?"

"No." That wasn't true.

Han had volunteered to be their babysitter two months earlier. All he had to do was keep Grogu alive and entertained until eight, and then put him to bed. The rest of the night he could spend on their couch watching trashy TV until they got home at eleven. Except they didn't make their way in until nearly one in the morning.

"Sorry, Han," Luke said, plopping down on the couch a little too close to him. "We lost track of time."

"Don't worry about it, kid," he said. That was suppose to be the end of the evening. He fully meant to grab his jacket and leave. But Din offered a joint to make up for the extra two hours, and Luke offered the couch so he didn't have to drive home. Han didn't want to pass up that deal.

"You know," Luke said, cozied up in one of Han's old hoodies from the last time they dated (not that Han was paying that much attention to him), while they smoked on the back deck, "the other night, I had a dream about the three of us."

"Oh yeah?" Han asked, passing the joint back to Din. "What kind of dream?"

"I think you can figure it out," Luke said.

"Was it you and me and then you and him?" Din asked. "Or at the same time?" Din was, in Han's opinion, aggravatingly neutral in his tone. He couldn't tell if he was aggravated or jealous that his boyfriend was having sex dreams about his ex, or if he was intrigued as Han was.

Luke took an exaggerated drag before he answered the question. "Sometimes it wasn't even me."

Din turned to Han, and then just shrugged.

Han didn't spend the night on the couch. He woke up bunt out, mouth way too dry, and in between his ex-boyfriend and his ex-boyfriend's current boyfriend.

That was two months ago.

If they'd meant for it to only be one hook up, they'd failed at that right away.

Han found himself at brunch two hours later, in clothes he borrowed from Din, helping Grogu do a placemat maze while Luke held his hand, and Din played footsie.

Han hadn't even spent a full night in his apartment in the last two weeks. Hell, he and Luke were back to regular 'I love you's.

They were all dating now, that much was obvious to them. But "I don't feel like spending the whole party explaining it," Luke said. Han could sympathize. He could give up a day of kisses for not answering questions from a bunch of Luke's strange relatives and family friends.

So, Han was about to tell Lando to leave it alone, when a damp Grogu ran up to him. "Han," he said. Han crouched down to get closer to him.

"What's up, squirt?" He asked.

"Luke wants to know if you want cheese on your hamburger," he asked, his little voice clear and sure.

"Tell him I would love some," he said. Grogu nodded and ran off towards the grill, where Luke was helping his dad and uncle manage the piles of meat they'd bough.

"The kid seems to like you," Lando said, as if it proved something. "He usually shyer around people."

"I've been babysitting," Han said. Which, again, wasn't untrue. He'd certainly been spending more time with Grogu, playing games with him, teaching him practical jokes that his dad hated, that sort of the thing.

"I still think you're lying to me," Lando said.

"You just think you're right about everything," Han said. He watched Grogu go up to Luke and give him the cheese information. Luke's gaze turned back to Han, and they caught each other's eyes for a moment, smiling at each other.

"You two did fuck!" Lando said a little too loud.

"Would you shut up?" Han said. "The last thing anyone needs is a rumor like that starting."

"You're right, you're right," Lando said, lowing his voice. He slurped on the last few drops of his drink. "Need another?" He asked pointing to Han's beer.

"No thanks," Han said. When Lando walked away, Han made his way inside to the bathroom. The house was empty, and the quiet and air conditioning were a welcome relief. Han snuck a peak at the treys of deserts before heading to the fancier upstairs bathroom. He wasn't suppose to use it, he knew, which increased its appeal.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, he was pulled to the side, and pinned to the wall by Din, his hand's over his head and one of Din's legs between Han's.

"You and Luke really don't know how to be subtle, do you?" Din asked.

"Oh yeah because this is really subtle," Han teased, before he was shut up by a kiss. Han wiggled his wrists under Din's grip, hoping to get his hands in his hair. Despite him smelling like chlorine, Han just wanted him closer.

Din let his hands go, but stepped back from him, smiling. "Behave yourself," he said.

"Behave myself?" Han said, annoyed at being teased. "You're the one who --" Din stepped closer to him, until their bare chests were nearly pressed together. Din's hand reached down and cupped Han's cock through the bathing suit, which responded a bit to the touch. Han gasped and moved against it, hoping to persuade Din to do more. Luke's old bedroom was just down the hall, it wouldn't be hard for them to slip in to fool around.

Din felt him up just long enough to make sure he was noticeably flustered before whispering, "Be good, and we'll make it up to you later," and leaving Han alone in the hallway.

Han took a minute to himself before heading back down stairs. The food had already been served. He took a seat across from Din and Luke. Din wasn't paying attention to him, focusing instead on making sure Grogu didn't eat to fast. Luke, though, was enjoying a hot dog, and making conspicuous eye contact with Han.

Han glanced a few seats down towards Lando, who was looking back and for between them. "What the fuck is going on?" Lando mouthed to him. Han just shrugged and bit into his burger, only to be disappointed to find out there wasn't any cheese on it.

Han looked at Grogu, who was laughing behind his hand. He knew what he did, Han realized.

"That's what you get for teaching him how to play jokes on people," Din said.

"You got me, squirt," Han admitted. He looked at Din, who had a goofy look on his face. Han knew it did a special kind of thing to him to see Han be good with his kid.

He didn't know what they had planned for him tonight, but he had high hopes for it.

#almost kept this going to have grogu give them away but i need to eat dinner #skymandolo #din djarin #han solo #luke skywalker #skysolo #dinhan #dinluke #grogu #my writing #drabble

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years ago

Text

Aerosmith

Alright, y'all: here's that fic that I'm low key scared no one is going to read that has taken me a few months to write, a Trent x single mom!reader fic

It's a long one, with the Bruin's feral little fighty boy from St. Louis, around 13.3k words. The songs listed as the headers of each section are all by Aerosmith, each part partially inspired by the song (hence the name of the fic)

Shoutout to @toplinetommy for helping me with this the entire time and being my beta AND to @chara-hugs for letting me bounce ideas off of you and talking through what I was thinking of. Love you lots 💛

I hope people like this

___________

Just Push Play

Considering how much was happening around you at the bar your friends had dragged you to, the only thing that could keep your attention was your phone. It was the only thing, at this point, that you would allow to keep your attention. You had no desire to be there. Part of you wanted your phone to start buzzing, anything that would give you an excuse for you to leave, but the other part of you knew that something bad had to happen in order for you to leave. Every second that you stayed was costing you more money and less time being where you wanted to be.

“Hey, Y/N, put the phone away. This is your first night out in, like, years,” Molly tells you.

“Four years. Maybe five?” you guess.

“Six years, exactly,” she wrongly says, earning a disappointed head shake from you, a small ‘no’ escaping your lips that goes ignored as she takes your hand that’s holding the phone. “Can we please just enjoy tonight and have some fun? He’s going to be fine.”

You take in a deep breath, almost sure she was right about that. You hadn’t had a night to yourself in years, and Molly was also almost right that this was your first one in over four years. Actually, given the timeline, it was probably more like five. “But what if something happens?” you ask, the natural worry and constant fear you felt taking over your ability to just enjoy the night.

“If something, anything happens, you’ll be able to feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, and I will go home with you to take care of it,” she reassures you, playing around with the settings on your phone. She hands it back to you, pulling you up from the table you had yet to move from in the first place. “He’s fine. He always is. Why don’t you request a song?”

“Because you keep telling me you hate my music.”

“Well, that’s because you have the same music taste as your sixty-something-year-old father when you’re a twenty-something-year-old woman.”

“You don’t even know how old I am? We’re the same age.” Molly rolls her eyes at you, dragging you up to the line of people to request songs, a book sitting there with the songs you could request. “They’re not going to have anything I like,” you tell her as the line behind you gets longer.

“Don’t you listen to that one guy?” she starts.

“That could mean anything. Have I told you lately that you are the most unhelpful person I know?” you snap at her, trying to find anything in your Spotify that you could request as the line got shorter and shorter in front of you. “What about this song?” you ask, your finger hovering over someone from one of your Daily Mixes. Molly looks over your shoulder at your phone, shaking her head at your song choice, and every song choice that you suggested. “I’m just going back to the table, you’re being impossible.”

Before she can protest, you turn around and head back to your table, sitting off to the side away from the rest of your friends, your eyes glued to your phone. At this point, you were praying that you would get a message from Rachel asking you to come home, telling you that something was wrong. Even something as simple as she had to leave unexpectedly so you could, too. Anything so that you could leave sooner rather than later.

“Sorry, but you really couldn’t find a song in that book?” you hear a guy's voice, tearing you away from the screen. He sits down next to you, not too close that it was uncomfortable but just close enough that you could smell his cologne, covering the smell of beer that had been lingering in the air around you. “There was some Aerosmith in there, I have a feeling that’s the closest to something you’d enjoy,” he says, smiling at you.

He must have been in the group that was in line behind you, hearing your conversation with Molly. Regardless, you smile back at him, something about his own being so infectious that you couldn’t help but mirror his expression. “Well, you’re right, but it depends on what Aerosmith song,” you respond, a hint of flirting in your voice.

“Is there a bad one?”

“No, but there are some superior ones,” you tell him, his eyebrow cocked as a sign to get you to explain. “Sweet Emotion is great but not as good as their cover of Come Together. Dream On and I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing are easily, in my opinion, their best songs.”

“Is that up for debate?”

“Oh, you think their most popular songs aren’t their best?”

“I think the one that’s about to play is one of their best,” the guy says, both of you pausing as there’s a lull in the music, the chatter and screaming of the bar’s drunk patrons overtaking everything.

“Just Push Play?” you ask, a smile on your face. It wasn’t one of their most well-known songs, but you still had to admit it was an underrated one.

The boy shrugs, a smirk on his face. “I might have requested it so you’ll have a reason to dance with me,” he flirts, getting up and extending his hand for you to join him.

You hesitate, unsure if you should get up with this mystery man standing in front of you. There was something about him that you couldn’t figure out. He looked young, probably younger than you but looks can be deceiving, nevertheless telling you that there was some sort of innocence or naivety to him, but the obviously fit physique under his clothing telling you that he could and would break your heart in a moment if he had to, the time leading up to that would be like nothing you had experienced before. You didn’t have time or the energy to spend on something you knew would lead to heartbreak, but you felt like you wanted to, like you had to. “I’m not sure I can dance with someone whose name I don’t even know.”

“I’m Trent,” he says, taking your hand and guiding you away from the table. You introduce yourself as his hands snake their way around your waist, holding you close enough that you could feel his heart starting to race against your own chest as your hands met the skin at the back of his neck, your fingers grazing along the collar of the back of his shirt, the two of you not moving at all in sync with the faster beat of the song. Not that you cared. There was something about this boy you were talking to talk to over the music that made you completely disregard the movement around you, forgetting about your phone and what was waiting for you at home for the first time in nearly five years.

You danced for what felt like forever, for what you wanted to last forever, every song passing you by as he listed out song after song that he recognized, most of them country as he claimed he had a country playlist that went on for seven hours, all of them involving him trying to sing bits and pieces of the lyrics off-key, every time pulling a laugh from you.

“I don’t know what I like more,” he starts, resting his forehead against yours as the space between the two of you disappeared, “the music they’re playing or your laugh.”

You roll your eyes, a smile on your face as the heat rushes to your cheeks. “Those lines usually don’t work on me.”

“But?” he asks, his lips ghosting yours.

“But from you, they do,” you tell him, planting your lips on his before he has the chance to say anything else. You didn’t know what it was about Trent; you were never the one to make the first move, you barely interacted with guys at this point since your life was permanently hectic. But Trent was something else. You don’t know what Trent was, you just knew he was different.

His hands were on your back, finding their way to your waist, his grip tightening when you feel someone tap your shoulder. You pull away, a pout on Trent’s face as you turn around to see Molly, waving your phone in your face. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Oh, shoot!” you squeal, taking your phone. “I’m sorry, I have to get home.”

A confused look covers Trent’s face. “Is your Uber going to turn into a pumpkin if you aren’t home, Cinderella?”

You laugh at his joke, going back to your table to grab your stuff. “I’m so sorry,” you repeat, “But I really have to get home.”

“Let me walk you.”

You stop in your tracks as you were rushing out the door. You never brought a guy anywhere near your apartment, knowing that most of them would want to go in, most of them would want to sleep with you if you invited them, most of them would be gone by morning when they found out why you didn’t want them there in the first place. You don’t know why you knew Trent would be different. “No, you don’t have to,” you tell him, instead, even though you wish you could bring him home with you.

Before he can answer, someone calls out his name, pulling the two of you away from each other’s attention. “Trent, we’re leaving.”

Trent looks between you and his friend, the group of guys aggregating around him as they wait for his answer.

“You don’t have to,” you repeat, trying to get out the door because you had to.

“Jack, give me a minute,” Trent calls to his friends, “I want to,” he tells you, taking your arm, turning you towards him. The look in his eyes was sincere, begging you to let him walk you home. “Please?”

You let out a sigh, caving in even though you knew you shouldn’t. “Fine, yeah. Let’s go,” you tell him, taking his hand and leading him out of the bar, his friends left without an answer as they watched the two of you walk away.

Come Together

“I’ve had a really great night. Sorry about my friends, though” Trent apologizes to you again. He explained that he had gone out with them after their game that night, supposed to be spending their off-day tomorrow together, but Trent leaving with you had seemingly changed those plans. As the two of you walked and talked on the way back, his hand never left yours, from the time you left the bar to now standing outside your door. He pulls you in for another kiss, the worries of what was on the other side of the door melting away. You wanted to invite him in, but you weren’t sure if he would even want to once he found out.

Your door opens, Rachel stepping out. “Sorry, it’s almost curfew.”

“Yeah, sure, go ahead,” you tell her, Trent confused by the girl sneaking out of your apartment. “That was Rachel. She’s my babysitter.”

“Babysitter?”

You could feel your face twisting involuntarily at his question. You knew you should have told him before you got home, it would have been easier leaving him at the bar than watching him walk away from you outside your door. Why did you even let him walk you home in the first place? Because he’s hot and you’re dumb, that’s why. “I have a four-year-old son. If you wanted to leave, I would understand. Most guys do when I tell them about Ben,” you spit out, not making eye contact with him. You weren’t ashamed of your son, you just knew people your age got weirded out and panicked at the thought of the responsibility that came with having a child.

He tilts your head up, his eyes flicking between your own and your lips, a lazy smile on his face. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Do you want to stay?”

“If you’ll have me,” he says, kissing you yet again. You bring him inside, showing him Ben’s room first. The two of you stand in the doorway, his arms wrapped around your waist as you lean against the door frame. You feel him kiss the back of your head as you watch Ben wriggle in his sheets before settling down, you taking Trent’s hand and leading him down to your room. You tell him that you don’t want to do anything because of Ben being so close, Trent giving you a sweet smile, kissing you before settling next to you in bed. You had no idea why, but it all felt so domestic, so right that he was there with you in that moment.

“Can I ask you something?” his voice pierces the silence that had fallen between you.

“Sure.”

“Why didn’t you mention Ben before?”

You swallow hard. You weren’t ashamed of having Ben, something you found yourself repeating in your mind every time you told a guy about your son. He was the best part of your life. Everything you did was for him. “We’re young. Being a single mom at our age has such a stigma around it. When guys find out, they normally bolt. I didn’t want you to until the last possible second.” You turn to him, still able to make out his features in the dark, the pout that was forming on his face visible without anything lighting him up.

“You could have told me before we got here,” he says, pain in his voice as he reaches for your face, the pad of his thumb gently grazing over your cheek. “I don’t care if you have a kid. I mean, I do, Ben is part of who you are. But, I would have understood. I understand. You shouldn’t be afraid of telling someone about that part of you. What I know about you so far is pretty amazing, I can only imagine what Ben brings to the table.”

“That seems weirdly out of character for what I know about you,” you tease him, pulling a smile from him.

“Well, maybe, but even a stopped clock is right twice a day, right?”

You kiss him, a feeling of relief washing over you at his words. The two of you spend the rest of the night telling each other about yourselves, keeping quiet for Ben, despite the amount of laughter you let you. You couldn’t remember the last time a guy made you feel so happy, falling asleep with a smile on your face, his arms wrapped around your waist as if that’s where they belonged.

You wake up the next morning, the sun shining into your room, but no Trent. You get out of bed, probably figuring that he had left in the middle of the night, trying to spare your feelings about you having a son. You understood. What guy really wants to get into a relationship with a single mom at this age?

You go to check on Ben, opening the door to his bedroom to find that he wasn’t in his room. You started to panic at the sight of his empty bed, unmade with his blankets in disarray. If Trent was gone, and Ben was gone, where could they be? He wouldn’t kidnap your son, would he? He was a professional athlete, that’s not something he would do, right? Your panic starts to recede when you hear laughter coming from the kitchen.

Trent is standing at the stove, spatula in hand with eggs cooking on the stove, a piece of bread held up to his face with holes bitten out of it where his eyes are, making Ben shriek with laughter. “Sorry. I heard him get up and I didn’t want to wake you, so I started making breakfast. Is that ok?”

You can’t help but smile, going over to Ben. “How’s he doing so far?”

“Mommy, look! French toast!” Ben says, pointing excitedly to the cut-up pieces of bread on his plate.

“French toast?” you repeat, your eyes wide to play along with his excitement. “Give me a bite,” you tell him, opening your mouth as he picks up a piece with his fingers, nearly missing your mouth. You hear Trent laugh, you not containing your own.

You go over to Trent, leaning into him as the two of you watch Ben eat the food Trent made. You feel him kiss the top of your head, his fingers dancing up and down along your arm. You look at his hand, a bandaid on the back of his hand. “What happened to you here?”

“Oh, oops,” he says, looking at his hand. “Got a little cut, but don’t worry, it’s not bad. Dr. Ben here fixed me right up,” he tells you, going over to Ben and ruffling his hair.

Trent hands you a plate of french toast and eggs, pouring you a cup of coffee, kissing you in front of Ben, who either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. No guy had ever stayed the night, let alone stayed and made breakfast for the two of you the next morning.

“So, what were you two talking about before I joined?” you ask, taking another bite of the French Toast. You already knew it was good from what Ben gave you, but you were still devouring it.

“Bears, boots, and battles of galaxias,” Ben lets out, his full mouth spraying crumbs everywhere.

“I’ve been trying to make sense of that all morning. I have no idea what he means. Why does that sound familiar?” Trent asks, sitting down next to you, his hand on your thigh under the table, sending a chill through your entire body as his fingers lazily traced an unknown pattern on your skin.

You take a sip of the coffee he had handed you, setting down your cup and putting your hand on top of his under the table. “He saw that one part of the Office, the identity theft cold opening, where Jim says, ‘Bears, beets, Battlestar Galactica?’ That’s how he remembered it,” you explain, Trent looking over to your son who was fixated on the food in front of him.

“Benny,” Trent calls him, your entire body going numb hearing him call him the same nickname you used for your son, “do you like bears?”

“Bears are the coolest!” he squeals. Everything he saw with a bear on it, he would start begging you to buy him, your heart breaking from the look on his face when you had to tell him no, we don’t need the kitchen towel just because it has a bear on it.

“Can you do your best bear impression for Mom and I?” You felt your heart skip at the sound of Trent calling referring to you as just ‘Mom’ instead of ‘your mom,’ like he was already part of the family. You didn’t even hear Ben growling, his best attempt at being the ‘scary’ Baby Bear that he was just laughing along with Trent.

“Hey, buddy, what if I called you Benny Bear from now on? Do you like that?” Trent asks, Ben nodding excitedly at his nickname.

“You’re nice,” Ben says to Trent while he clears his plate, Ben running off to go play.

You look at Trent, not able to help how you were beaming at him getting along so well with your son. It was like he belonged there with you, and with Ben, making his presence that much better. “That means he likes you.”

“Not trying to pry,” Trent starts, standing beside you at the sink while you wash the dishes, “But how often does he like the guys you bring home?”

You bite your bottom lip, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “I almost never bring guys home. And when I do, he generally doesn’t talk to them.”

“So he likes me,” he starts, getting closer to you as you nod your head. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you away from the sink. “How about you?”

“That depends,” you flirt, stretching to turn the sink off before draping your arm on his shoulders, twirling his hair through your fingers at the nape of his neck, “do you like me?”

He lets out a small laugh, pulling you in for a kiss. “I do.”

“I like you, too. Help me finish cleaning up and then we’ll go watch Ben, ok?”

The two of you wash dishes in silence, weirdly domestic and comfortable considering you knew this boy all of twelve hours. “Can I ask you something?” Trent breaks the silence, just as he did the night before.

“Sure.”

“Where’s Ben’s dad?” You take in a deep breath, knowing that this would have come up eventually. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he continues, a wash of panic over his face at the thought of asking something too personal too soon.

You shake your head, smiling at him to try to calm him down. “No, no, that’s fine. Um, we were together when we were in college, but we broke up. I started feeling like shit so I went to the doctor and she told me, ‘Congrats! You’re two months pregnant!’”

“Does he know about Ben?” Trent asks quietly.

“Yeah. Yeah, he does. I told him when I found out because I knew Ben was his. I told him that I was going to keep the baby and since we weren’t together anymore, he had the choice of either being present and helping out or if he didn’t want the responsibility, then that was fine, too.”

He didn’t know what about the way you were talking was making him feel this way. A lump in his throat was forming looking at your eyes start to shine with the threat of tears while you refused to make eye contact with him. You rarely talked about Ben’s father, making the decision a long time ago that he wasn’t worth your time thinking about since he didn’t want much to do with his own son. “And he didn’t?”

“He sends a present to Ben on his birthdays and Christmas, but other than that nothing really. I’m not even sure if Ben’s made the connection between the presents and his father yet. Like I said, though, I gave him the choice.”

“Do you regret anything?”

“I could never regret Ben or anything with him. I almost regret giving his father the choice, though. Being a parent isn’t easy, even if you have someone to take up half the work, but it’s even harder when it’s just you by yourself, you know? And I’ve gotten help, but it would be different if Ben had his dad as a constant in his life. Ben’s only seen him a few times, anyway. He calls him Andy instead of dad, and it’s just,” you stop, trying to find the word, “heartbreaking seems too severe, seeing him not acknowledge his dad as his dad, but what can you do?”

Trent didn’t know what to say. He was practically still a child himself when you really look at him. He couldn’t imagine having his own at this point in his life, let alone raising one on his own. “I’m sorry,” is all he can get out, trying not to cry even though he could hear Ben’s laughter ringing from the other room, sending a weird sense of joy through him at the same time.

“No, it’s fine. I would rather do this alone than do this with someone who didn’t want Ben to begin with. You can’t be a parent if you aren’t all in.”

He had no idea why, but he already felt so connected to Ben. There was no reason why, but he did. “I’m in.”

You turn back to him, shocked, confused, not even sure if you heard what he said properly. “What?”

“I’m in with you. With Ben. If you’ll let me. I want to see you again, keep seeing you. And that includes Ben. He already likes me, after all.” Trent was used to making snap decisions, on the ice, off the ice, wherever. He knew this was one, but this one felt like his best one.

“You don’t have to, you have your own life with hockey and everything,” you try to insist, cut off by Trent’s lips connecting with yours.

“I want to. Let’s go play with Ben.”

Angel

“Are you sure this is safe?” you ask him for what was probably the millionth time, getting out of his car in front of the rink.

He runs around to get Ben out of his car seat, you grabbing the stuff he had stashed in the trunk. “Yes, I promise it is. The guys bring their kids all the time and they’re way younger than Ben.” He had invited you and Ben to the family skate the team was having, you reluctant to go since Ben had never been skating before. Naturally, you were worried he would get hurt, either by falling down or being curious about the skate and somehow cutting himself, something you were sure he would do if given the chance.

You two had been together for about a month, Ben falling head over heels for Trent, jumping up and down whenever he saw him on TV. Much to your dismay, Ben loved it when Trent was fighting, begging you to let him play hockey so he could fight just like Trent. You loved taking videos of his excitement despite that fear of him skating and fighting like Trent, sending them to him to see during the game, Trent always making sure to FaceTime you the next afternoon when you got home from work if you two couldn’t meet up so that he could talk to Ben. He was acting like the dad Ben never had.

And that was terrifying to you. The thought of you and Trent breaking up and him suddenly leaving Ben’s life was the reason why you never got close with a guy before. You didn’t want Ben to go through that. You didn’t want to go through that.

But there you were, sitting rinkside at the Garden as you tried to tie up the skates that Trent got for Ben, his feet swinging back and forth in excitement no matter how much you tried to get him to stop for a moment.

“Are you excited, Benny Bear?” Trent asks, picking him up and walking out to the ice.

“Yeah!” he says, squirming around and clearly ready to go.

You weren’t sure if you were more nervous about Ben being on the ice for the first time, Trent already showing him how to skate, or you formally meeting all his teammates for the first time, that night at the bar not really counting. The three of you step onto the ice, Ben in between you two, practically swinging in the air as you both held his hands while you skate.

“You’re nervous?” Trent asks, reading the expression on your face.

“They look like they didn’t know about Ben.” You saw the looks you were getting from the guys' families as you and Trent were skating around with Ben between you. You knew they were looks of confusion, but you couldn't help but think that they were the same looks when you went out with Ben in general, the societal disapproval of being a young mother, no ring on that finger to show that this was planned with another parent on the other side. People were judgemental; it was in their nature, but you were hoping Trent’s teammates were accepting like Trent had been.

“Um, I guess I didn’t tell them? I didn’t think I needed to,” he says, looking down at your son. Ben was beaming, not paying attention to what you two were talking about, not that he would probably understand it if he was. Trent didn’t think it would be a big deal to have your son around. The guys knew he was seeing you, but was it really that big a deal that you have Ben? He looks over at you, the scared look that was on your face worrying him. “We can just tell him he’s your nephew or your little brother?” he whispers so Ben doesn’t hear.

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. You don’t seem to want them to know he’s your son?”

You stop skating, pulling Trent over to the side while holding onto Ben’s hand as he begs to pull away and take a lap on his own, something you weren’t going to let him do. “I told you I’m not ashamed of Ben,” you hiss at him.

“I’m not saying that you are. I’m just saying if you’re scared of what people would think we could just tell them something else.”

You look at him for a moment, trying to properly process his words. “Am I scared of what people think, or are you?”

He steps back, careful not to fall on whoever's kid was zooming past him at that moment, Ben begging to go skate with him. “Hey, Zach,” he calls Patrice’s son over. “If he takes Ben is that ok?”

You knew you shouldn’t say yes, but you didn’t need Ben hearing this conversation, no matter how oblivious he might have been to begin with. “If you trust him, fine.”

“Zach,” Trent starts, crouching down to their level, his hands on Ben’s shoulders so he can’t skate away before he’s done, “Can you take care of my guy Ben here? Make sure he doesn’t fall? Go skate to your dad.” Zach and Ben practically rush off with each other to Zach’s dad, eager to skate around and surprisingly good for their age. “What do you mean I’m scared?”

“Who’s the one suggesting that we don’t tell your teammates that Ben is my son? We’ve been out together when people ask if he’s my brother, my nephew, if I’m his nanny, and every single time you’ve seen me correct them. I told you I’m not ashamed of Ben. And to come here and have everyone giving us looks because they’re trying to figure out who he is to you makes it seem like you are. You couldn’t even tell the guys you claim are like your family about Ben. He’s not old enough for that hurt, but I am.”

He looks down at the ice, shuffling back and forth on his skates. “I’m sorry.”

You move closer to him, tempted to reach out and hold him. He looked just as hurt as you felt, part of you glad that he was actually showing he was sympathetic instead of just saying it. “Are you ashamed of Ben?”

His head snaps to you, a look of disbelief on his face. He starts shaking his head, the curls on his head that were loose enough going wild with his movement. “I’m crazy about that kid. I know why you aren’t ashamed of him because I don’t think I could ever be.” Trent turns around to find Ben on the ice, skating around with the other kids, some of the guys playing a small game with them, Ben with his own little stick. He watches Ben score on whoever was playing goalie, Ben shrieking with joy. Trent couldn’t help but smile, turning to you. “He means more to me than I thought someone else's child could.”

“Then why didn’t you tell them about Ben?” you ask him.

He shrugs, sticking out his bottom lip. “Because I’m dumb.”

You can’t help but laugh, hooking your fingers in his belt loops to pull him close to you. “Well, I do call you a stupid muppet,” you joke, earning a groan from him, “Hey, I say it with affection and you did say I could call you that.”

He cups your face and kisses you, momentarily forgetting his teammates and their families around you. “We could go tell them now?” he suggests, his forehead pressed against yours.

“Do you want to?”

Trent starts skating over to the rest of the guys, Ben giggling and playing with the rest of the kids. The two of you start talking to his teammates, introducing yourself to Jack and Jeremy, keeping your eye on Ben while he plays as you wait for Trent to finally say something about him.

“Trent! Trent!” Ben’s voice tears you two away from the conversation. “I’m you!” he yells, using the stick to try to shoot the puck, instead missing the puck and falling down on the ice. He was trying to process what just happened, hopefully not meaning to do what he did.

You look at Trent’s face, his teammates laughing while his face turned red. Ben shoots back up and starts skating again, Trent beaming at him. “That was cold,” he says to you, a smile on his face anyway.

“You know he didn’t mean it,” you tell him, squeezing his bicep before skating over to your son. You lift him up off the ice, thankful that he was still small enough to do that as you kiss his cheek and skate around with just him for a bit.

Trent couldn’t take his eyes off you, his teammates doing everything they could to try to peel his attention away from you. He watched you interact with Ben, the same light in your eyes when he looked at your son.

“Dude?” Jack finally succeeds in bringing Trent back down to Earth, “is that her brother?”

Trent shakes his head, turning back to you. “Nope, that’s her son.”

“Son? What are you thinking?” Jack asked. He knew what he meant. Trent was young. You were young. Having a kid was something real adults did, not whatever definition of adult he fell under.

Trent shrugs, watching you and Ben laugh and smile as you skated around, talking with some of the guys' girlfriends as they coo over Ben. “I’ve been better since I started seeing her.”

“You were fine before you started seeing her,” one of them mumbles.

He rolls his eyes, turning back to them. “Come on. I was fine but I wasn’t great. All I did was punch a few guys and get a couple of secondary assists. Even Butch said something about my play last game. Everything in my life is better with Y/N in it. And Ben.”

He didn’t hear what the guys were saying, and honestly, he didn’t care either. He loved your son, probably not as much as you did, but he felt like he was getting there. He wanted to get there.

Because he loved you.

Dream On

“Where are you?” Molly's voice comes through your phone, panicked and irritated. “I thought you were coming in today?”

“What are you talking about? Today’s my day off.” You were at home, sitting on the couch with the tv playing in the background while Ben played with his toys in front of you. It was one of the rare days that you could spend from the time you woke up until you went to sleep with your son, and you had no real intention of changing those plans, which is what it sounded like Molly was going to ask you to do.

“Well, you know that funding we secured for that new project?”

“Yeah?” you say, Ben coming up to you, trying to show you something. “Hold on, Benny. What’s going on, Mol?”

“They’re getting cold feet.”

“You’re joking.”

“No, we need you here. You and DeAndre were the ones who got them in the first place, and he’s already here. Please?”

You take in a deep breath, trying to figure out if anyone is free to watch Ben. You couldn’t bring him in and have him running around the office while you were trying to convince a major investor to give you the money promised. “I have to find a babysitter but I’ll be there as soon as I can,” you sigh, wracking your brain as to who would be free. Rachel couldn’t typically do weekends, but maybe she could if you promised to pay her extra? But then there was the issue of: did you have the money to pay her extra?

You start scrolling through your contacts, trying to figure out if anyone in there would be able to watch your son, running into your room to get changed to look at least a little presentable.

Trent’s name pops up, calling you with what you hoped would be somewhat perfect timing. “Hey, babe, what’s up?” you answer, your phone on your bed as you try to find something to wear.

“What am I looking at?”

“I’m changing for work and my phone is on my bed, so the ceiling.”

“I thought it was your day off?” he asks as you throw what seemed to be the only clean work shirt that you could find. You knew you were forgetting to do something today, now you realized it was laundry.

“Molly called saying that I need to go in and now I have to find someone to watch Ben or else I’m going to have to bring him in with me, which doesn’t seem like a good idea. And most of my friends are from work or have their own lives and can’t watch him, Rachel can’t do weekends, but I guess I could ask her if she has any friends who could watch him last minute.”

“Y/N.”

“But then I have to pay them and since it’s so last minute I would need to give them more money, right?”

“Y/N.”

“I guess I could, but I think I would also have to pay for meals, and then I have no idea what time I’m going to get home, and whenever that is I’m going to have to do laundry, and-”

“Hey. Earth to Y/N. I can watch him,” Trent finally cuts you off long enough to get a word in.

You were hesitant; Trent had never been left alone with Ben, and probably never left alone with a four-year-old ever by your assumptions. “No, no, I can’t ask you to do that,” you tell him, picking up your phone to see him.

“I’m serious! You just said you need a babysitter, I was going to ask if I could come over and see you before the road trip, anyway.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, biting your lip. Did you trust Trent enough to let him watch and take care of Ben? If you could trust Rachel, a girl who still had a curfew and couldn’t even drive her friends in the same car as her, why couldn’t you trust your boyfriend?

“Of course!” he says, clearly getting up and walking around what you think was his apartment. “I’m leaving right now, I’ll be there in ten.”

He hangs up and leaves you to finish getting ready, hurrying through trying to make yourself look presentable and finding the stuff that you needed. You couldn’t find your work bag, or your computer, mentally cursing yourself for the one time you didn’t leave it in your closet like you normally did.

“Hey, Benny? Have you seen Mommy’s computer and bag?” you go into your living room to where you left Ben. He shakes his head, his overall attention not leaving whichever toy he was fixated on. “Great,” you mutter under your breath, trying to find it. “Ben, how about you and I play a game?” you ask him, getting down in front of him. “If you can help me find my blue bag and my computer, someone really special will come over tonight!”

Ben gets up and starts looking for you, hoping that you can find it before Trent actually gets to your place. “Mommy! I found it!” Ben comes running to you, your bag nearly as big as him as he struggles to carry it to you.

You take it from him, kissing his head as he goes running off, a knock at your door just in time. Opening it, you see Trent on the other side, a bag in his hand. Kissing him hello, you tell him, “I owe you big time.”

“We can discuss payment when you get home. And I have some ideas as to how you could pay me,” he says, bringing you in for a kiss.

“Trent!” Ben runs over, interrupting.

Trent practically launches himself off you, picking up Ben and hugging him while your son’s laughter and happiness fill your home. “Benny Bear!” He gives Ben the bag, telling him to open it.

“A bear!” Ben jumps up and down with the small stuffed animal that Trent had gotten him.

“What does a bear say?” Trent asks, both of them going, “grrrrr,” with their hands curled like claws, their faces scrunched. You felt yourself melting at the sight of Trent getting along so well with Ben, your son running around in circles with his new toy that he would probably say is his favorite since it came from Trent.

“Did you buy him a Benny Bear?” you gush, bringing him in for a hug.

“I saw it when I was on the road and had to get it for the little guy.”

“You love him,” you tell him, not needing to ask since you already knew what his answer would be if you did.

“Of course. But you have to get to work,” he tells you, pushing you off him.

“I’ll pay you for whatever you get for dinner, order what you want, within reason for him.”

“You don’t have to pay me back, and I’ll make sure to get him lots of candy,” he jokes, earning a look from you. “I’m joking,” he says, throwing his hands up in defense. “Go, go to work. I’ve got this.”

“If you need anything call me, or even one of the guys who have kids. If you trust them, I’ll trust them.” You kiss him again, yell goodbye to your son and remind him to behave for Trent. You were nervous about leaving Ben alone with him, but if you wanted to be serious about this guy, you had to do it at some point, right?

You close the door, leaving Ben and Trent alone on the other side as you try to think about how you and DeAndre can now keep your investors from pulling money, practically running down the hall so that you can get to your car.

Trent turns around, Ben already sitting back down on the floor and playing away with his toys. He had no idea how to watch a four-year-old. He takes in a deep breath, sitting on the ground with Ben, his back leaning up against your couch. “Alright, Benny, what do you want to do?”

Ben hands Trent a toy, starting to ramble on about whatever magical world he’s conjured up that Trent was no part of. He had no idea what he was doing, trying to follow along with your son’s imagination as best as he could.

Trent didn’t know how you did it. Ben was a ball of energy all the time, and at home seemed to be no exception. Trent was chasing him around as they played ‘Bear catcher,’ which Trent wasn’t really sure the rules of in the first place, just following around your four-year-old through your apartment while he sprinted, jumped, hid, crawled, and did every other action that Trent felt too old for.

Ben finally sits down and focuses on the tv when he hears some song coming from it, the first moments that Trent can sit down as well, hoisting himself onto the cushions. His phone starts buzzing, a call from Jack coming in. “Hey, what’s up?”

“What are you doing right now?” Jack’s voice comes through the phone as Ben gets up again, starting to run around with the bear Trent bought him.

“I’m watching Ben.”

“Since when are you a babysitter?” Jack asks, judgment dripping in his voice.

“Since Y/N needed a babysitter and I was free.” Ben climbs up on the couch and starts jumping, Trent suddenly feeling a wash of panic over him at the thought of Ben falling and getting hurt. Jack starts saying something that Trent knew he didn’t want to hear anyway, giving him the perfect excuse to cut him off. “Hey, Ben, you’ve gotta be careful. Sorry, dude, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

He hangs up before Jack can get another word in. “Hey, Benny. Mom said we could order dinner,” he says, pulling Ben into his lap in hopes that he would calm down long enough so he could talk to him. Ben squirms as his energy never seems to stop, Trent doing everything he can to try to figure this out. “What sounds good to you?”

“Ice cream!”

Trent lets out a small laugh, Ben’s face glowing at the thought of ice cream for dinner. “No, bud, you can’t have ice cream for dinner.”

“Ice cream! Ice cream!” Ben wriggles free of Trent’s grasp, repeating the phrase over and over again as he sets off running around again.

Trent was way in over his head. He didn’t think that Ben would have this much energy for this long. Whenever he was with you, it was either during the day and Ben stayed relatively calm, or when you were playing, he had you to help counteract and keep Ben from being the seemingly crazy child that he was right now. He could call you and ask what to do, but from how you sounded on the phone and when he came over, you were way too stressed out to also have to worry about Ben at that moment. He could call one of his teammates who actually knew what they were doing when it came to child care, but Jack’s words from the family skate practically haunted him. He wasn’t in too over his head when he was with you, or when he was with you and Ben. But just Ben? Not going too well.

“Benny Bear, come here,” Trent says, reaching out to catch Ben as he runs by the couch. “How about, we get something else to eat, and if you eat all of it, I’ll get you ice cream?” he asks, making a mental note to at least text you to ask if it was ok that he have it. Ben nods his head since Trent technically said he could have ice cream. “What do you want?”

“Mac and cheese!”

“What about,” he starts, pulling out his phone. “Some chicken fingers?” Something told him cheese and ice cream wasn’t going to end well for Ben’s stomach that night, and by default, it wasn’t going to end well for Trent, either.

Ben nods, going back off and running around the room. He had to tire out at some point, right?

“Hello?” you answer your phone, Trent calling you to make sure his dinner plans were ok.

“Hey, Ben said he wanted ice cream, but I told him only if he eats his dinner, and I had to make sure it was alright with you, first.”

“What did you settle on?”

“Chicken fingers?”

He hears someone calling your name in the background, you yelling something back to them in panic. “Yeah, there might be some in the freezer? If not, just tell him that the ice cream fairy is coming later and he can have it tomorrow, or something. There are also some carrots in the fridge, too. Tell him he has to eat some of those if he wants ice cream, even if I don’t have any. Have some with him, pretend they’re spaceships, and play with them before you eat them, that normally distracts him long enough.”

“That works?”

“Trent, he’s four. Most things like that do.” He hears more yelling from your end, Ben coming zooming by him yet again, nearly tripping over Trent’s feet. “I’ve gotta run. Love you, bye.”

You hang up before Trent can react. You hadn’t told each other that you loved the other yet. He knew he loved you, but he didn’t know if you loved him back. But you just said it, and he didn’t even know if you meant it since you said it in such a hurried context. He hoped you meant it. He can’t even focus while he’s ordering dinner, not really sure what he was having other than the carrots you mentioned were in the fridge.

Trent just sits there while he waits for the food to arrive, getting the carrots out and trying to see if there was anything close to ice cream, or even yogurt that he could throw in the freezer for Ben while he continues to zoom around your apartment. “Hey, Benny, look!” he says, holding up the carrots. “Spaceships!”

This felt like he was talking to a dog, which seemed weird, but at this rate, Ben was tiring him out so fast he didn’t know what to do. He and Ben start playing with the carrots, watching your son eat what was in front of him when the doorbell rang for food.

Ben keeps playing with food, something Trent thought you probably wouldn’t like too much, but at this point, he didn’t know if he should care. He had no idea how you did this. There was no way Ben had this much energy every night, right? He had never seen you exhausted, so Ben couldn’t be a ball of energy all the time. At least, that’s what he convinced himself as he sat there eating his food.

Eventually, Ben goes to sleep, Trent helping get him ready for bed and tucking him in. You had texted that you weren’t sure when you were going to be home, but Trent was free to stay the night instead of driving back home regardless of what time you would be back, something he gladly took you up on.

Trent finally settles down after finding a pair of sweats he left at your place a while ago, collapsing onto the couch in complete exhaustion from Ben’s running.

“Trent?” he hears Ben’s small voice coming from down the hall, pulling Trent away from the trance he fell in trying to stay awake until you got home. “Trent!”

He runs down the hall at the sound of the increased panic in your son’s voice, not sure what he was supposed to expect when he practically burst through his bedroom door. “Buddy, what’s wrong?”

Ben was breathing heavily when Trent got close to his bed, clutching his sheets to his chest, “I had a bad dream.”

Trent sits down on Ben’s bed, a sad smile on his face. “Ah, Benny, it’s all over now. You’re safe.” Ben nods his head, a terrified look still on his face. He pulls Ben in for a hug, kissing the top of his head, Ben’s small arms wrapping around Trent’s own. “How about I read you a story to help you fall asleep?”

Ben nods, jumping out of bed and getting a book for Trent. “Goodnight Lab?” Trent reads, a confused look on his face.

“Mommy likes science,” Ben offers as his explanation.

“Of course she does,” he says, opening the book, putting his arm around your son as Ben cuddles up against Trent’s chest. “In the great green lab, there was a laser, and a lab notebook, and a picture of Einstein with a stern look,” he starts, already seeing Ben’s eyes getting heavy.

You finally get back home, seeing the light on, no one in the living room. Wandering through your apartment, you hear Trent’s voice coming from Ben’s room, finding him there with your son, him asleep against Trent’s chest as he whispers the end of the book to him, “Goodnight liquid nitrogen, goodnight compressed air, goodnight scientists everywhere.”

You stand in the doorway, Trent not noticing you as he slips himself from Ben, your son curling up with his blankets. Trent bends down to kiss him on the head, tiptoeing out of the room.

“Hi,” you whisper, closing Ben’s door behind you, giving Trent a kiss hello. “What was that?”

“He had a nightmare, so I read him a story to calm him down and get him back to sleep,” he explains.

“That’s so sweet of you,” you tell him, leading him down the hall to your room.

He shrugs, closing the door behind you. “My mom used to do it for me and my siblings. I always told myself that I would do it for my son or daughter.” You don’t know what to say, just pulling him in for a kiss, down on your bed. He pulls away, a smile on his face, “Oh, and I love you too,” he tells you, hoping that Ben didn’t wake up and hear what you two were about to do next.

Sweet Emotion

“Happy birthday, Benny!” Trent says, taking a video of your son as he blew out the candle on the small cupcake in front of him. Your son’s fifth birthday was spent out with Trent, starting with him making breakfast again, taking the two of you to the park and Boston Commons as he played with Ben the entire time, out to dinner where you were now, treating you the entire way. Ben didn't even care about the gift that you had gotten from Andy, something he had previously looked forward to every year. Ben was starting to see Trent as a father figure, something that was both terrifying and exciting to you.

If Trent, for whatever reason, stopped wanting to be part of your life, that would mean he would also probably leave Ben’s, a boy who already didn’t know his father and didn’t seem to want to know him. But he wanted to know Trent, he loved Trent, and you knew Trent loved him, too. You were just afraid he would fall out of love.

Ben was giggling as Trent smashed part of the cupcake against his nose, the bright red frosting making him look like Rudolph as he tried, and failed, to lick it off himself.

“Did you get that part, too?” you ask Trent, leaning over to see his screen.

“Yeah, I’ll send it to you. Do you mind if I post it to my private story? Some of the guys and their wives would go crazy for this.”

“Only the private one,” you tell him, laughing as you turn to Ben to see his face more of a mess than before, the red frosting now spread to his cheeks, “Benny, what happened?”

“I’m painting,” he says, using his finger to smear the frosting on his face.

Trent can’t help but laugh, you pulling Ben in for a hug. Trent snaps a picture of you kissing the frosting off his face. “Wait a sec,” he says, calling over a waiter to take a picture of the three of you, both of you kissing Ben’s cheek as he beams at the camera.

You see him set his phone down, notifications lighting the screen up as you guys get ready to leave, the picture of the three of you his new phone background.

The next morning, Trent had morning skate before needing to get ready for their game that night. The last game before the All-Star Weekend marking the halfway point of the season was always both nerve-wracking and exciting, the hypothetical of ‘if the season ended today, would you be in or out of the playoffs?’ always on everyone’s mind even though it meant virtually nothing, but still wanting to stay at one of the top spots in the league regardless.

“Hey, what was with that story yesterday?” Jack asks him after practice.

“It was Ben’s birthday,” he shrugs.

“Isn’t it weird?” Zach asks. “She has a kid. She’s a mom. You aren’t a dad.”

“I never said I was his dad,” he defends himself, starting to take on a hostile tone.

“Well, you’re acting like his dad, aren’t you?”

Trent rolls his eyes as his only response. What was he supposed to do? Ignore that you have a child? Trent gets up to leave, Jack now standing in front of him to stop him.

“You’re with them all the time. You watch him when Y/N is busy. You brought them to family skate. You know his favorite toys, his favorite tv shows, you facetime them every night before the game because he’s going to be asleep by the time the game is over. You’re not his dad,” Jack lists to Trent, Trent getting more angry with every word that comes from his friend.

“What am I supposed to do? Pretend that Ben isn’t part of her life? Pretend that she has no kid? I can’t do that. I don’t want to do that.”

“It’s messing with you, Trent!” Jack yells, the rest of the remaining guys getting quiet. “You don’t do this. You don’t date a girl who has a child and play ‘house’ with her. You’re the guy who just fucks around and has fun. Where did he go?”

“I can’t change? I can’t settle down because I wasn’t settled before?” Trent responds, knowing that his face was bright red, “I love Y/N, and I love Ben. I don’t care if you think it’s ‘not normal.’ It’s what I want and you don’t really get a say in that.” Jack stands there, stunned by his friends' words, still struggling to find them as Trent grabs his bag and walks out of the room to go home before the game.

He wanted to call you and talk about it with you, but what was he going to say? ‘The guys think my dating you is weird since you have a son?’ The flash of your expression appeared in his mind when you realized the guys didn’t know about Ben at family skate, the pain he knew you felt when you thought he was ashamed of Ben. He wasn’t then and he isn’t now.

But what was he doing? Jack was right: he wasn’t Ben’s dad. He could never really be Ben’s dad. Why did your son mean so much to him if he had no relation to the child in the first place?

Why did he have to say he was all in? He was supposed to be focusing on himself and his hockey, not a girl he met at a bar and pouring all his excess energy into you and your son. What was he supposed to do? Pull back? Pull you away from your son? There was no way that was going to be an option, and there was no way that was an option he wanted to follow.

He was supposed to be following his normal pre-game traditions and routines, not having his mind run rampant over the thought of you and Ben and what his teammates think.

He pulls out his phone, a notification from Instagram telling him that you had responded to his story a few hours ago while he was at practice. Trent opens it, seeing the picture of Ben, looking so happy with the cupcake that was all his, the red frosting seconds from being smeared all over his face. Trent didn’t think about being a dad anytime soon. He really never had any intention of settling down, at least not yet, not seriously, yet there he was, thinking of Ben like his own son, head over heels for you and your son.

It was too much, wasn’t it?

His phone started buzzing with texts from the guys to make sure that he was ok after they watched his and Jack’s blow up in the locker room. Trent didn’t even care about them at this point, knowing that he should at least answer them even just to tell them to leave him alone for the time being.

But what if they were right? Jack’s words kept ringing through his head, that he was just a guy who had fun because that’s what he wanted, not a guy who settled down with a girlfriend, and especially not a guy who settled down with a girl who had a toddler.

He spent the entire time he was supposed to be taking a nap going back and forth between whether or not he was in too deep or if he was fine because he was in love. The night he met you, he had never intended to get this far in with you. He had just wanted to hook up, the reason he went home with you in the first place. But as soon as you told him about Ben, seeing the crushed look on your face at the prospect of him leaving because of your son, he knew that he couldn’t just be one and done. There was something about you and Ben that he had to be part of it once he was introduced, that part of his life that he never knew was missing until he realized he couldn’t picture his life without you.

And it was just too much.

Attitude Adjustment

Trent finally gets to the Garden, not even remembering who they were playing that night. He couldn’t think about anyone else, almost tempted to tell Bruce that he was sick so he could be a late scratch instead of letting this mess with him. Because no matter what he did, he couldn’t get out of his head and focus. The music that he normally played before a game wasn’t working, even so much as trying to close his eyes and picture being on the ice while he was in the locker room before the game.

No one approached him while he was in his stall, probably out of fear of another outburst from him. He wasn’t even paying attention when Bergeron gave his traditional pre-game motivational speech before they all went out to the ice, Trent skating around by himself in hopes of being able to focus before they played the Flames that night.

“Alright, what’s going on?” he hears someone say, not even noticing who came up to him in the first place.

He looks at Brad, suddenly thankful that there was someone on the team who knew what he was going through. “Katrina already had Sloane when you two met, right?”

“Y/N and Ben on your mind?”

“You were in the locker room after practice.”

The two of them skate around their half of the ice, the time before the game ticking down. “When you date a woman, when any two people date, there’s always going to be something that can get in the way and potentially break you up. That includes their family, their kids if they have them. You need to decide if you want to let Ben break you and Y/N up or if you’re going to take him in and not let him do that.”

The guys were migrating back to the bench, Brad still on the ice for the starting lineup. “It worked for you, though,” Trent says, hanging back as long as he could, his eyes darting back and forth between the clock and his teammate.

Brad shrugs, looking out to the blue line where Bergeron and Pastrnak were already waiting. “I don’t see Sloane as any less of my son than I see Sawyer as my daughter. It worked for me. If you want it to work for you, then you have to make it work.”

The buzzer sounds, Bruce yelling for Trent to get off the ice and onto the bench. Did he want this to work with you and Ben? What the three of you had was already great, but Trent had barely spent any time with you, a time when you and he could just be a couple without worry of anyone else.

Trent’s line goes out on the ice, his mind still occupied as he skates. The puck touches his stick, him making a mad dash towards the Flames net, only to get tangled up with Tkachuk, sending Trent to the ice. He doesn’t get up for a minute, trying to process what happened, an easy shot and probably goal just messed up, leading to a breakaway to the other end to put the Flames up 1-0 against the Bruins.

By the time he can finally get himself up, Bruce is yelling at him that if he messes up like that again then he’s benched the rest of the game, definitely not a good look going into the All-Star break. He gets back out on the ice, the same thing happening with him tripping on a breakaway, this time over himself instead of a Flame, again leading to them scoring and putting them up 2-0. He couldn’t get out of his head. Trent sat there the entire time, not even focusing on the game, not focusing on the comeback his own team had to win the game 4-3.

He didn’t talk to anyone in the locker room, rushing out as soon as he could to go home, hearing Brad’s voice carry through the hallway to the elevators as he explained what he knew about the situation, no doubt that Jack offered his own remarks that Trent was sure would have lead to them fighting right there.

He had never wanted to fight one of his teammates over shit they said before, let alone one of his best friends. Other guys on other teams? Sure. But Jack?

Trent gets into his car, his phone already blowing up, asking him if he had still wanted to come on the trip to Puerto Rico he and the guys had planned with their girlfriends a while back. He had completely forgotten about the trip, no one even mentioning it for the longest time, not even sure that it was actually booked by anyone.

What surprised him most was Jack asking in the group if you were going to come with them, followed by a separate text saying that he meant it, that he wanted you to come.

Maybe this is what you and Trent needed; a trip with the guys, the two of you able to spend some time alone and just be with each other without the constant worry of someone or something else. He texted back that he would be there, not sure about you yet.

“Hello?” you answer your phone, Ben’s coming through the background. Hearing him made Trent hesitate, swallowing hard.”Trent?”

“Yeah, uh,” he swallows again, “Sorry, um, mind if I stop by for a few minutes?”

You sit up from the couch, looking at the mess you didn’t even realize Ben had created during the game. “Yeah, sure. I’ll see you soon?” you say, hearing him start up his car.

“Yeah, awesome,” he says, hanging up before either of you could say anything else, practically speeding out of the Garden as fast as he could to get to you. The more he thought about it, the more excited he was about spending a week with you.

“Hey, Benny, guess who’s coming over soon?” you put on a cheery voice, crouching down to the floor where Ben was playing with his toys.

Your toddler started bouncing up and down, his arms waving around in excitement. “Trent?” he squeals.

“He should be here any minute, help me pick up some of your toys, ok?”

You and Ben start to scramble to pick everything up. You knew Trent wouldn’t normally care if there were toys on the ground, but there was something about the tone of his voice when he called to tell you that he was stopping by that worried you.

You had watched the game, you weren’t stupid that he had had an awful game, thankful that it was an earlier evening game that Ben could watch with you. Even he was upset when Trent fell, both times, getting benched and hearing Jack and Brick speculate what was up with one of their favorite players.

Ben continued to buzz around as you waited, thankful that he couldn’t sense the anxiety that was building up while waiting for Trent. You hear him knocking on the door, getting up while Ben seems to be oblivious to the sound. You smile when you see him, mirroring his own expression, the complete opposite of what you expected given the conversation you had minutes ago.

“I have something to ask you,” he starts, his hands on your waist as he starts walking you backward down the hall, seemingly toward your bedroom.

“Trent! Trent!” Ben comes up to the two of you, bouncing up and down, Trent's hands releasing their grip on you. “Are you coming on Friday?” Ben asks him, referencing his concert at school that Trent had promised to come to.

You saw the smile on Trent’s face fade at Ben’s words, a nervous look taking over as he knelt down to look Ben in the eye. “I really want to see your concert, buddy, but I’m not sure if I can make it. I’m gonna try, though, ok?” he tries to save face when he sees the crushed look on your son’s face.

Ben nods, not understanding what Trent was really saying to him. In his world, Trent saying he wasn’t sure meant he didn’t want to see him sing with his other classmates. “Um, Ben, why don’t you go play in your room for a little bit, ok?” you ask him, guiding him to his room, watching him run down the hall. You turn to your boyfriend, clearly confused by what he just told Ben. “It’s the All-Star break, what came up?”

“The guys and I are going away for the break, and I want you to come with me.”

“What are you talking about? You said you were staying here?” you ask him, praying that Ben doesn’t come out of his room and couldn’t hear any of this.

“I know, I know, but, come on, things change,” he says, taking your hand and trying to lead back down your hallway.

“Wait, Trent, come on,” you stop him, turning him around to face you. “You want Ben and I to come with you on a trip with the guys? What guys, where are you going?”

His expression drops again, “I was kinda hoping it would just be me and you.”

“And where would Ben be? I can’t just leave him alone. I can’t go away with you.”

“But, Y/N, come on,” he whines. “This could be so good for us. A few days, just you and me, no distractions, nothing stopping us from just being together, like a real couple.”

“Distractions? A real couple? Trent, what the,” you stop, realizing you were standing right outside of Ben’s door. You look between Trent and the door, Trent’s pleading expression as you take him down the hall, practically slamming the door to your own bedroom. “What the fuck are you talking about?” you hiss.

He sits on your bed, you still standing, towering over him. He puts his hands in his face, letting out a deep breath. “I’m,” he starts, “I just want time where it’s you and me. Other than that night at the bar, we almost never have had more than a few hours when you and I are alone. I need to get out of Boston for a bit, and I don’t want anyone with me beside you.”

“Trent, I can’t,” you protest, sitting down next to him.

“Yes, please, just say, yes.”

“No, Trent. You aren’t hearing what I’m saying.”

“I am, I just-”

“Ok, then you aren’t listening! I can’t just drop everything on a moment’s notice and go off with you on a vacation. I have a kid, and if you haven’t noticed, I can’t exactly afford a babysitter for more than two nights in a row, let alone watching him all day every day for an entire week.”

“Don’t worry, I can pay for one, I just need to get out of here, and I need you with me.”

“Trent, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Ben can stay with a sitter.”

“Don’t you get it? Ben comes first. Ben has to come first. When it comes to a decision between you and Ben, or anyone and Ben, my choice is always Ben. There is never a case when I’ll pick something or someone over him, especially not going on some trip with you and your frat boy-like teammates because you’re upset you had one bad game. I choose him every single time. Especially over you, Trent.”

“What about Ben’s father? Can’t he stay with Andy?”

You can’t help but gasp, hurt by what you thought Trent meant. “You mean the father that didn’t want him? I. Told you. This,” you say, standing up again, “Andy wants nothing to do with Ben. And right now it seems like neither do you.” You could feel the tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, turning around and heading out of your room. You couldn’t look at him. You had no idea where you were going to go, given that you had Ben in his room and couldn’t leave him.

“Y/N, please, I’m sorry,” he runs after you, stopping you before you reached the door. “I just want a few days, where it’s you and me. Where everything is easy for us. Where there’s nothing, no one, besides you and me.”

“This isn’t supposed to be easy. You knew it wasn’t going to be so why are you so shocked that this is how it is?” you tell him, the tears finally falling.

The two of you stand there for a minute, Trent starting to reach for you a few times before running his hands through his hair. “It’s me and Ben, or neither of us,” you give him an ultimatum. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, wishing he can find the words. “Fine. If you can’t make the decision, I will. Get out.”

“Y/N, come on.”

“No. If you have to think about it, then you aren’t ‘all in,’” you call back to the morning after you two met. “Because if you were, you wouldn’t have to think about it.”

Trent doesn’t say another word, pushing past you and leaving you there.

You press your back against the door, letting out a silent sob so that Ben can’t hear you. This was exactly what you were afraid of, wiping the tears from your face and peeling yourself off the door. You walk down the hall, hoping that Ben wouldn’t notice the redness that was probably in your eyes from crying, opening his door.

“Where’s Trent?” Ben asked, handing you a toy of his when you sit down on his floor with him.

You swallow hard, not sure what to really tell him. “He had to go, Benny,” you say, running your hand on his hair, pulling him close to kiss the top of his head.

“When’s he coming back, Mommy?”

You put on a fake smile for him, not wanting to let him know when you really thought Trent would be back. “I don’t know, sweetie. Not this week.”

I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing

You hadn’t checked anyone’s story on Instagram since last night, sitting on the metal chairs in the middle of the day, surrounded by parents much older than you, figuring now was probably the only time you hate the chance.

You tap through them, some stories from friends from college, random celebrities that you followed. You finally get to Jack’s story from last night. They were in Puerto Rico, in some dark restaurant. Zach and Jeremy were dancing, Jack behind the camera. In the corner, you could see Trent sitting at a table, looking miserable. He sees Jack with his camera, shakes his head and storms off. You replay the story, Jack’s shaking making you think that he was saying something and turning the sound on low, holding the phone to your ear. You could hear the music more than anything else, sounds of Zach, Jeremy, and Jack’s laughter breaking through after one of them said something inaudible. Trent must have gotten up at that point, because you hear Jack yell, “Oh, Trent! Come on, man! Have some fun!”

You go to Trent’s profile, hoping that he had posted anything. The last photo he has posted was of the two of you, him strategically cropping out Ben because you had asked him to. It was from Ben’s birthday, outside the restaurant. He had captioned it, ‘Spent the day with my two favorite people, Bear not shown.’

Ben’s preschool teacher gets up on the stage, the high-pitched whispers of the four- and five-year-olds starting by the back door as Ms. Barry introduces the class, all of them walking up in a line to the stage. They start waving to their parents, Ben waving to you as everyone, including you, has their phone out waving back and recording the moment. The children start singing ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,’ their pixie-like voices filling the auditorium, all slightly out of key and slightly out of sync with each other. Towards the end of the song, you notice Ben starting to jump up and down, anxious over something he saw towards the back of the auditorium, as did some of the other children. You figured it was nothing, none of the other parents turning around to look at what it was either.

They go onto their next song, one you weren’t paying attention to, nor did you recognize it. Ben was no less antsy than he was before, waving again with the biggest smile on his face. It had to be someone.

You turn around, Trent leaning against the back wall, one hand in his pocket while the other was waving to Ben. All of his attention was on Ben. You turn back in your seat, shocked that he was there. He was supposed to be in Puerto Rico.

You put your bag on the seat, the mom next to you promising to watch it. You sneak back to Trent, not sure what to say to him. You turn to Ben, giving him the thumbs up and a single finger to tell him that you were going to be back in a second, feeling bad that you were leaving your so. Ben jumps up and down, nodding and continuing to sing.

You grab Trent, pulling him out of the room and into the small hallway. “What are you doing here? You were in Puerto Rico last night; I saw you on Jack’s story.”

He looks down at his feet, biting his bottom lip. “I couldn’t be there knowing you and Ben were here.”

“That’s not what you said when you wanted to go.”

He nods, looking up at you for a second before his eyes flick back down to his feet. “I told you I was dumb.”

“So why are you here then?”

“I told you when we first met that I was all in. I can’t be all in if I’m not here.”

“So?”

He takes a step closer to you, hesitating for a moment. “So. I don’t want to miss anything with you, or with Ben.” You don’t know what came over you, kissing him outside your son’s concert the way you did. You can hear the parents start to cheer, signaling that the concert was finished. Trent pulls away, your foreheads pressed against each other. He smiles before stealing a kiss again, pulling you back inside.

Ben comes running up to you, giggling with his arms open. “Trent!”

“Benny Bear!” he responds, crouching down with his arms open, hugging Ben when he came in contact. He picks him up, kissing him on the cheek, your hand on Trent’s back.

“You came! You’re back!” Ben squeals, burying his face in Trent’s shoulder.

“Back and here to stay,” he says to you, giving you a quick kiss before putting Ben down, getting your bag, and going home.

#trent frederic #trent frederic imagines #boston bruins #bruins imagines #boston bruins imagines #bruins #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines #aerosmith fic

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