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gucciwins · 2 years

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breathe with me

the city of angeles bring love, troubles, and honesty. with a slight glimmer of hope of something more.

Word count: 12053

A/N: hi friends! the end is near, where we say goodbye to bel and harry but do no fear it is not forever. i want to focus on other writing. as much as i adore this story i got many ideas i'm looking forward to writing. this chapter is a bit of ride so i hope you enjoy it. i love you.

please remember to reblog! let me know what you thought!

warnings: fluff, smut, angst (in that order. only happy endings here)

love on tour series // previous part

Los Angeles, California

Thursday

You're still wondering how you got here.

You're dressed in leggings, a thermal white long sleeve, a Portland hat, and sneakers. You're pouting and getting no attention. You see, Harry brought you golfing. If only your ancestors could see you now.

You stand there watching Harry as he thanks the worker for providing a set of clubs. Clearly, they're for both of you. Not that you'd be any good, you think.

"Why are you upset?" Harry asks, walking up to you, white-gloved hands carrying his clubs in the provided bag. If you asked Harry, you're sure he'd give you a name for it, so you don't ask.

"You tricked me," you pout.

"No." He's biting back a grin.

"You asked if I wanted to go mini-golfing."

"Yeah, we'll golf for a mini amount of time.

"Ugh… you're the worst."

"Bel," he's laughing, "I've never seen you throw a tantrum."

You scoff, "this isn't a tantrum."

"Mhmm…tell you what."

You ignore him deciding to adjust your hat, blocking the sun from hitting your face.

"You can drive the golf cart."

You turn to look at him, eyes shining bright with hope, "really?"

He grins, nodding. "Yes."

Harry holds up the keys, which you happily accept. You lean in and press a kiss on his cheek.

"My hero."

You slide it, trying your best to contain your excitement. Already having forgotten why you were annoyed with Harry.

"It's that first hill, start there and make our way."

This would be fine. You'd get to see Harry stick his ass out for you and take swings of balls, giving you a nice view of his forearms. That's two wins.

Harry starts off strong, hitting the ball way off but clearly in the right direction as he guides you to where the hole must be. He jumps off and finishes the round. He tries his best to explain, but it's no use, especially when he's playing alone.

You've made it through two more holes when Harry persuades you out of the golf car something about lemon blueberry pancakes for breakfast. He knows your weakness and uses them well.

He hands you a golf club; it's shiny and looks like it's never been used.

"You know I heard it's better to start with a professional to teach you."

Harry frowns, "who told you that?"

"This Irish fellow I met in a bar when I was filming in Ireland a few years back told me."

"Blonde?"

You shake your head, getting a feel of the golf club he handed you.

"Brunette."

"I know an Irish brunette." He follows right behind.

You know he wants to ask more, but you don't let him. You're not what this club is called by feels comfortable. Moving your hands forward, having your trail hand rest under your lead hand falling on top of it. It feels comfortable.

Harry gets you in position, knees apart, shoulders back, and tells you to swing.

You do arms extending and legs popping back just like you had seen him do before.

"That was really good," he says, not hiding his shock.

You bite back a smile and get into position once more, this time prepared to send the golf ball in the air.

"Fore," he shouts, then you swing.

You laugh at how far the ball seems to travel, not shocked at all.

"Fuck." Harry mutters as he follows your ball and stays on the green bit farther behind his ball. "Thought you didn't like golf."

"I don't."

"Then why are you good?"

"Listen, when you live in a town where there isn't a lot to do as a young kid growing up until you get your driver's license. Mini golf and laser tag are something I excel in."

"You're competitive, sunshine," he states, not having seen it before.

You nod, "I checked out books in the library about golf to better my stance and swing."

"For mini-golf?"

It's odd, but you were a strange kid growing up.

Harry continues playing, and at one point, you abandon the golf cart, preferring to keep walking as the eight-hole course didn't seem so bad. You know Harry wanted company, and he could have easily asked Jeff, Luis, or literally anyone, but he picked you. It's nice knowing you're the first choice.

You're so lost in thought you don't realize Harry had been trying to catch your attention for a few minutes until he sets his hand on your waist.

"Yes, amor?"

He moves your hat up, wanting to look in your eyes, "baby, you're not really upset, are you? We can go home right now if you want."

You sigh, letting your shoulders drop, not noticing how tense you had become. He looks concerned. "You're fine. A little hungry is all."

His frown deepens, "I'm sorry I forgot about snacks. We can get something from the cart girl."

"No, I'll be fine for a while longer."

It looks like he doesn't believe you and instead reaches for your water, opening it for you. Without question, you take a long sip, letting it refresh you for a moment as you soak in the warmth of the sun.

"I'll cook you dinner when we get home." He promises.

"What do you have in mind?"

"You'll see, darling."

Harry walks back over, grabbing the golf clubs and stretching out his free hand to you, which you happily accept, intertwining your hands together, loving how easy it is. The weight of his hand in yours is something you never want to forget.

Arriving back home, Harry sent you up for a shower without letting you help him in the kitchen. You leave him be, taking advantage of the alone time he has granted you with. You love Harry and love spending every moment with him, but you're glad he's observant when it's okay to step back and give you that time to yourself because you both need it.

You spent a decent amount of time in the shower, belting song after song in a private concert. It was fun while it lasted. Getting dressed quickly in sweats and Harry's discarded shift from this morning, you slip it on before hurrying down the stairs, and the aroma in the room is divine.

"What smells so yummy?"

"That'll be the lasagna that is cooking in the oven."

Your eyes widen at the thought. You see the pan on the counter with leftover sauce. "Did you make it from scratch?"

"The sauce, yes. Those months in Italy sure are helpful in picking up skills. The pasta isn't. Promise we'll do that together another time."

"It's a date," you grin at him.

You wrap him in a hug, unable to contain your excitement at the prospect of a home-cooked meal that he made especially for you.

Harry lets you go, making you pout at him. He only shakes his head, pressing a kiss on your lips before helping to sit on the counter. It's your favorite spot you've come to learn. You get to rest against him, his head against your chest, your hands moving up and down his back as you hold each other tightly.

You'd be in the position had Harry not heard your stomach growl. He pulled back a deep frown on his face, and you flush in embarrassment but try to pull him back to you.

He goes to the fridge, pulls out a container, and grabs a small yellow bowl that looks like it was hand-painted. Turning around, he presents you with the plate that holds blackberries for you.

"Should hold you off for a bit."

As you take the plate, happily beginning to eat them humming at the juicy flavor, Harry can't help the laugh that escapes him. His happiness radiates off of him, and you know it's partly from you. He presses a kiss to the side of your head before leaning back on the counter, keeping a time on the timer that should be going off soon.

"Where's your mum?"

"Out with friends." He steals a blackberry, popping it in his mouth, "comes all the way here and doesn't even spend time with me."

You roll your eyes at his silliness, "relax, drama queen."

He pokes your side, making you jump and drop a berry. You pout at Harry, who just shakes his head, feeding you another.

"You probably invited her golfing."

"I did."

"'Course she said she had plans she didn't want to come golfing for hours," you tease. "No one does."

"That's a lie. Niall told me his girlfriend joins him," He defends.

"The Irish fellow?"

"The very one."

"He probably gives it to her so good she can't say no."

Harry's mouth falls open in disbelief, "oi, shut it." He throws a berry at your head but you duck. "Are you saying I don't give it to you good?"

"Didn't say that."

"Yes, you weren't saying that last night or this morning."

"Mi vida, you are the best lover, and I'm forever grateful."

He presses a kiss to your neck, then your cheek, and finally on your lips. "That's what I like to hear."

"I'd like to meet him. I enjoy his music."

The oven alarm rings loud, and he moves to shut it off. Grabbing the oven mitt and knife on the counter, checking on dinner that should be just about done.

"You do? How did I not know this?"

"Because I didn't have a Twitter account dedicated to you during this time."

"Why's that? Not cool enough for you."

"Oh definitely, but my career was growing just as yours was around the same time."

He shuts the oven off then places the oven mitts on the counter, letting the lasagna sit there for a few more minutes. "Right, right."

"What would you be doing now if I wasn't here?"

Harry tilts his head, "as in if you were working?"

You laugh, "no, silly, if I wasn't in your life. Do you think you'd still be golfing and cooking yourself lasagna?"

The look on his face is serious. He moves your legs wide to step in as you become the same height from your spot on his counter. "Don't say things like that."

"It's a hypothetical, H."

"Hypothetical or not. I don't want to think of my life without you. Lived too many years missing you, and now that I have you, I don't think I ever want to let go."

Oh.

You did not mean to go down the sentimental road, but you're glad you did. It's not easy for Harry to open up, but he has throughout your time together because he knows you need it, and you appreciate it. More than he'll ever know.

"I'm sorry, baby. No hypotheticals."

"Good. Go set the table time to eat."

"Yes, sir."

Harry groans, "Bel."

You smirk as you gather two plates and two forks, "oh, you like that, noted."

"You'll be the death of me, my love."

Los Angeles, California Night Two

You rushed in hair a mess, looking flushed in your black raining daisy high waisted straight leg jeans and a white top, your bag flying off your shoulder as you stopped spotting Harry in the chair in front of the mirror. Ayae stood right behind, scissors in hand.

“Didn’t miss it?” You breathe out.

Harry laughs, shifting to look at you. The smile on his face is contagious, “you made it, Bel.”

“Traffic sucks here. But I had to thank Alfonso for the few days he let me pester him.”

You set your bag down, pulling up a chair to sit right next to him.

“You didn’t pester, darling.”

“I know. Sorry I was late.”

Harry rolls his eyes, making grabby hands for you, and who are you to deny him. Ayae just watches on fondly, pretending to need something from her bag, giving you a moment of privacy. His hands settle on your face, and he brings his lips against yours. Something you missed in the few hours you were away having met up with two friends from an interview you did a month prior. Harry understood, but that didn’t mean he liked spending time apart from you.

“You’re here all that matters now.”

“Sorry, Ayae, go right ahead.”

You sit back, looking at Harry’s who’s staring straight ahead, as Ayae begins to wet his hair to make it easier. Stylists are to be admired, all the work they put in is sometimes underappreciated, but you know Harry always makes sure she knows how grateful she is.

As Ayae cuts, letting the pieces fall to the floor, Harry shuts his eyes, letting himself relax while you continue to admire him. He looks calm as if he’d been waiting for it to happen. You weren’t blessed to enjoy time with Harry’s long hair, but you do know he pulls off every look.

“What?” Harry asks after a while of silence.

You shrug, shaking your head. “Nothing, just admiring.”

“Like what you see?”

“Looks really good.”

“Think so?” He looks down timidly, but Ayae makes him look up again, the blush evident on his cheeks. “It’s been a while since I’ve cut it.”

“You’re always pretty,” you assure him.

Ayae saves him by turning on the blow dryer, beginning to style his hair, and he’s thankful for the save, or else he’d be redder than he already was.

As she finishes, fixing one stubborn hair that falls over. You giggle as Harry helps hold it in place, and the loose hair finally settles.

“All finished,” she pats his shoulder, letting him get up and get a closer look. You do the same.

Harry turns his head, careful not to run his fingers through it as he takes it in.

“Wonderful, thank you, Ayae.”

“Course, boss. I’ll be around if you need anything.”

After she cleans up, she leaves you and Harry alone. You step behind him, bringing your hand to rest at the back of his neck where his curls used to fall. Now it’s free. You rub your thumb affectionately as he sighs, relaxing to your touch.

“Like that.”

“H, we’ve got to go,” Luis said with a sincere smile on his face for interrupting.

Harry sighs, “be right there.”

You giggle as he rolls his eyes, but it’s the life of an artist who has to prepare for tonight.

“Want to–”

He’s interrupted as your phone begins to ring.

Viola.

She’s here.

“Sorry, amor. Gotta take that.”

“Okay, I’ll be back soon to meet her, alright?”

“She understands you’re busy.”

He shakes his head, “I’ll make time for you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, my love.”

“Now go. Before they drag you by your perfectly cut hair.”

Harry giggles at the image that popped in his head. He leans in, capturing your lips in a soft kiss enough to hold you over for the time you’re going to be apart.

“I’ve got a surprise for tonight.”

“Am I going to like it?”

“Love it,” he promises.

“Looking forward to it.”

He’s a step away from exiting when he turns around to look at you, “back here for my good luck kiss just in case Jeff doesn’t let me go?”

“Course, mi amor.”

And he was off.

Viola had been thrilled to meet Harry. They got along swimmingly, bouncing off each other's stories and laughing like old friends. It was funny; the last person Viola got on that well with was you. She had many clients, and you know you couldn't say you were her favorite (although you were), but it was nice knowing that your manager was your friend and was rooting for your success. Even nicer when she got to meet the new people in your life.

It was important that she met Harry because you didn't let yourself open up a lot in fear of being taken advantage of or the chance of being hurt. As many friends you had in this industry, you also had just as much privacy.

Now to be watching him on stage with Viola dancing along, laughing at everyone's dorky moves, her own included. Viola and Anne had spoken briefly, promising to talk more after the show. You're sure by the end of the night, they would have a tea time together planned for a date before both of them left Los Angeles.

Harry was really shining tonight. The outfit is one that just calls for your attention. He's wearing a black sequin shirt, matching trousers, black suspenders keeping the uniform going, and his leather boots. The perfectly styled hair tying the look together. You loved that he left the shirt unopened, giving a view of his chest enough to satisfy.

He was interacting with the crowd a lot more, his energy even higher than a couple nights ago. You loved seeing how happy he got on stage, you've said it many times, but you'd never get tired of it just like he would never do either.

Tonight Harry had many friends in sections where he could see them and sing directly to them. It was interesting knowing all the fans must be wondering who must be up there if they already didn't know. The biggest names, Lizzo, BTS, and SZA, hanging out laughing and singing with Harry as he strums his guards towards them. Even throwing a sunflower towards Lizzo, who blows him a kiss after she catches it.

The big surprise that Harry had up his sleeve was singing 'To Be So Lonely' you were not expecting it, but you were excited. You enjoyed the honesty of this song. The raw talent of Harry and Mitch is clear from the opening chords to the lyrics. The fans did not hold back as the fans shouted out loud Harry's six least favorite words. He encourages, though, and that's all that matters.

Jeff noticed you stepping back and getting a drink of water. He laughs as you narrow your eyes at him, not sure what he is laughing at.

"Are you jealous?"

Your eyes go wide. The question is absurd.

"What? No."

"You are."

He nudges you trying to get you to laugh.

You pout, shaking your head no. "'Course not. His attention isn't always on me. Thousands of people here, Jeff."

"But you expect it."

You scoff, "cut it out."

"Nope."

You roll your eyes, "Jeff, stop it." You chuckle, letting him know you aren't actually angry.

"Fun to tease."

You narrow your eyes as he throws his arm around your shoulder. "Love ya, Bel."

Shrugging him off, you flip him off, his laughter ringing in your ears as you go to stand with Anne. She's got the biggest smile on her face.

"Darling, you alright?"

"Jeff's just teasing me."

"Want to have a few words with him," she offers playfully.

"Nah, I can take him."

"He's wonderful. Looks so beautiful." She nods her head towards Harry, who is dancing around on the other side of the stage, shining as bright as the disco ball he displays towards the end of the night.

"Beautiful indeed."

"He was made for this." She whispers in awe, and you know she must be proud, but of course, she misses her little boy.

You feel an ache in your chest, so you hug her tight. "Sorry," you're quick to jump back, not sure if that was appropriate.

"Don't be daring," she pats your hands holding them tight. "Always grateful for hugs."

"Good, hope you don't mind if I shower more upon you then."

"Excited for it."

There, arm in arm with Anne, you watch Harry living his dreams, knowing you get to a part of it and more.

After the show, backstage is just as lively. Everyone gathered around and mingled, wanting to speak with the band and Harry. You shared a brief moment in his dressing room telling him how wonderful he was on stage and stealing kisses until you left, leaving him to get changed.

Now you're in a crowded room stealing glances at each other as you dance around each other, never getting close enough, both being pulled in different directions. You spent some time talking with friends you invited that you did an interview with when you were in Pittsburg pretending you were in New York. They were kind, and you honestly liked them, which is why you invited them tonight.

Viola had spent time chatting with Jeff over god knows what, but they departed amicably. She bounced over to you, telling you not to worry about it. You had a great time conversing with everyone, telling stories, and making jokes. Viola liked sharing funny stories about you. Always a crowd-pleaser.

You had just gotten a drink and were just watching when Viola came to join you. "You alright? What's wrong?"

You shrug, not sure, honestly. A sinking feeling is washing over you.

"Overwhelmed?"

"How'd you know?"

She grins, pointing at you, "there's this small scrunch between your eyebrows. I know you well."

"I guess. I wanted you to spend more time with him but forgot how popular he is."

"You're not used to sharing him," Viola states.

"What," you scoff. "Share him every night."

"Not this intimately."

It's crazy how well she can read you.

"I guess it's easy to forget he has all these other people in his life, and he just met me."

"It's not the same with you," she assures, rubbing your arm comfortingly.

You shrug and smile, "maybe."

"Y/N?"

You turn around and see Grace and Celia.

"Hi, ladies."

"Hey, thank you for inviting us. It was a great show." Celia tells you with a giant smile holding on tight to her bag.

"I'm glad you were able to make it. Were you heading out?"

Grace nods, "time goes by fast when you're having fun."

"Oh shit, I didn't introduce you to Harry. He's very popular, pointing over your shoulder to hear him laughing with a group of people." You tell them apologetically.

The two ladies wave you off. Celia smiled. "Don't worry. He came straight to us earlier before the show. Surprised us, really. He was very kind."

"He is." Grace agrees. "Shocked us, really. But he assured us that any friend of Bel was a friend of his. He really cares for you."

You stand there surprised but so relaxed after hearing that. It's precisely what you needed to hear.

"Thank you. I can't wait to read the article. Please send it over."

"To review?" Grace teases.

You laugh, "no. once it's posted. I'm sure it'll be a lovely read. Even pass it over to Mrs. Twist."

Celia places a hand over her heart, "an honor."

The ladies hug you goodbye and make their exit. You use this as an excuse to get a moment of privacy, excusing yourself from Viola. As you're walking away, you don't notice Harry's eyes on you following you.

You lean against a wall far away enough to keep you hidden, leaning your head back and just closing your eyes. It's only a few minutes when you hear footsteps coming your way.

"Hiding out, lovie?"

You open your eyes to see Harry swimming at you, arms open, and you're quick to shuffle in his hold.

"H," you sigh fondly and soften as his arms wrap around you.

"Miss ya, angel."

You giggle, "you are mister popular."

"As are you. Miss popular," he corrects, burying his face in your hair.

"Not even. You, on the other hand, have everyone around you."

Harry laughs, holding you closer, "I saw everyone come up to you. You and Sarah are the most popular people in that room."

"Not true," you mutter. "About me, not Sarah."

"Oh yeah, then why are Lizzo and V begging to meet you," he teases.

"Stop it."

"Nope, not lying. Big fans, they say."

"No one cares to meet the girlfriend."

"They want to meet you because you're Y/N Belmonte, the kindest and most beautiful movie star. Plus, they think you're crazy for wanting to date me."

"Because you're too amazing?"

Harry pulls back, holding your face in his hands, "no, because you're too good for me."

"But I love you."

He chuckles, grinning wide. "I know, sunshine, and I'm so lucky you do."

You let Harry hold you for a bit, enjoying the silence and having him back next to you. As much as you love that he's got amazing people by his side, you're also glad for these moments where he seeks you out because he loves you and needs you just as much.

His hand running down your back is comforting and not at all seductive, all though you know that is how the night will end once he gets you both home.

"You need to speak with Viola more. Want her to get to know you before we both leave."

Harry nods, playing with your fingers noting that your nails have chipped. You pull your hand back, but he holds tighter, intertwining your fingers together.

"Tall, long black hair, golden-brown skin, and pearly white teeth."

"That's her."

"Then we chatted lots." He grins, and you narrow your eyes at him. You meet his gaze and catch him looking bashful. "She showed up today while you were on set. Took her to lunch, and we chatted about you."

"Oh god, that's embarrassing. You let me introduce you earlier, acting like you've never met."

How did you not know? It's no wonder they seemed to get on so well. They had broken the ice earlier.

"I thought she'd mention it, and maybe she assumed I did. Our secret." He laughs as you feel your face flush at what they could have possibly talked about. "Also not embarrassing."

"It is."

"No, it's sweet. She cares for you a lot. Always wanted you to be happy, and she knows life is hard but glad you've given yourself and me a chance."

"The sweetest." You agree, knowing that Viola has been by your side for the best and the worst times.

You think back to your earlier conversation. She didn't say a word. No wonder she was so relaxed, mentioning how much he cared for you, something you knew but something she hadn't gotten the chance to see. Or so you thought.

"She may have also threatened me if I ever get you in bad waters, some things I don't want to mention." He shrugs, waving it off as nothing serious.

"Seems right," you laugh as he pouts, not at all getting you concerned.

"I love you."

"I love you, H."

You'll never get tired of saying it.

"Good, let's go meet friends."

"Can't go home?" You ask, suddenly feeling how socially exhausted you are.

"Nope." He keeps walking but stops when he doesn't feel you at his side.

"Want to show you how much I love you." He turns around slowly and sees you batting your eyes at him seductively.

"God woman, you will be the death of me," Harry groans.

You grin, knowing you're getting exactly what you want.

"Fifteen minutes top." He promises.

Los Angeles, California Night Three

The best way to wake up after a late-night is with kisses being pressed all over your naked skin as the fresh air hits you. The duvet pushed to the end of the bed while a beautiful man draped himself over you, coaxing you awake.

The man in question, your loving boyfriend. Who did not get sedated even after the three rounds you went together last night after leaving the venue.

"Harry," you groan, voice full of sleep.

Although, your body is reacting to his loving touches.

"Good morning, baby."

"Mhm." you shift, trying to bury your face in the pillow. "Sleep, please."

He chuckles, "it's late, darling."

You roll your eyes, lift your head to catch sight of the time on the small alarm clock on his bed that he never uses reads nine am.

"It's early. You lied."

Harry smiles, taking you in as you fight the warm feeling of sleep. If he hadn't stolen the blanket from you, then you'd already be in dreamland again.

"Want to love on you for a bit," he confesses.

Fuck. He never plays fair.

"Yeah?" You shift, your eyes staring at him. "Want to fuck me, baby?"

Harry groans, "fuck, how can your mood shift that quick."

You chuckle, "your kisses got me worked up." You pause. "Maybe it was the dream I was having, already so wet."

"Bel," he growls.

"Don't you want to check?" You tease.

"No teasing right now, love. Just need to be close to you."

You move your hands to your side, leaving you to spread open for him, "then by all means."

That's all he needs before he's diving forward, connecting your lips with his. The kiss is fast and all-consuming. You moan as he bites your bottom lip before pulling away. He knows better than to leave bruises where they can be seen, so he moves down and past your neck to your breasts. Harry places kiss after kiss until he takes your bud in his mouth, biting lightly as you push up against him.

"Harry," you plead.

He chuckles against your skin, "alright, my love. I'll take care of you."

Harry reaches over you, opening the drawer and grabbing a condom. You loved foreplay, Harry, and you could go on for hours appreciating each other, kissing every inch of each other's skin, but right now, you were craving him.

You needed him.

Harry quickly shifted right over you, pushing your legs further apart. His hand snaked down to feel you and checked just how ready you were, never wanting to hurt you. His touches were soft and focused. You felt pleasure ring through you, the smirk on his face as he rubbed your clit, making you buck up.

"H, amor." You whine. "I need you."

"Need my cock, angel."

You mewled. Your head was thrown back as he rubbed his tip back and forth over your lips.

"Answer me."

"Yes, yes," you breathe. "Need you to fuck me. Please."

"Give you the world if you asked, angel."

You throw your hands over his shoulder, needing him closer. "Only want you. Only you."

"You got me," he promises as he pushes inside of you.

The feeling of his inside of you was something you'd never get used to. He slipped in easily at how wet you had been. As he bottoms out, he holds still, waiting for you to catch your breath.

"Now, H."

Harry pulled out and pushed back in, keeping a steady rhythm. Your moans filled the room. The sex was soft compared to the words both of you shared earlier. He knew exactly what you wanted.

You ran your hand through his hair, tugging at his roots to get his attention back on you and not where your bodies connected. His eyes shined with lust and love. Harry leaned down, pressing your lips together, getting lost in the taste of each other.

"I love you," you told him against his lips.

Harry didn't need to answer for you to know how he felt.

His movements became harder as if he was fighting back his release wanting you to reach your release first.

"Come on, darling. Sing for me."

"Harry," you moaned louder as he picked up the speed, hitting you in all the right spots. You closed your eyes, seeing stars getting lost in his grunts.

You moved your hand down only to be stopped by Harry. You opened your eyes to see him staring at you shaking his head. Letting you know he'd do it, he'd take care of you.

His index finger circled over your clit, a harsh breath leaving you as the pleasure only increased.

"Good, angel?"

"Perfect, fuck, H."

Harry smirks, moving quicker, feeling how tight you got knowing you were going to come soon.

He pumps into you three more times while rubbing your clit, and that's when the feeling hits you spreading all over your body. The moan was loud, echoing through his room and through his entire house.

Harry follows right after you, the sight of you coming for him too angelic, and lets himself let go. He holds himself up, not wanting to lean his weight on top of you, but also not ready to be separated.

As you both work to catch your breath. Harry slips out, tying off the condom and throwing it in the small trash can by his bed. After that's done, he comes back to cuddle you, pressing kisses into your sweaty hair.

"Morning, H," your voice is cheerful as opposed to earlier.

"Morning, my love." Harry kisses your cheek then your neck, causing you to laugh. Shifting closer to him, not at all trying to escape his hold. This is exactly where you wanted to be.

Your eyes widen, you tense in his arms. "Please tell me your mum isn't home."

You feel the vibrations of his laugh as it rings loud from his chest. "Lovie, wouldn't have had you screaming that loud if she was home. She went out for a walk with Sarah and the bub."

"Thank god." You relax, as much as you love Anne. You fear you'd never move past the embarrassment.

"Reckon, we have time for another round in the shower," he tries.

You laugh, patting his chest. Harry takes that as a no. Standing up on shaky legs walking to his luxurious bathroom. Once you make it to the door, you turn around, catching him staring at your ass. Typical.

"Are you coming?"

Harry sits up cautious, "really?"

"Mhm…feeling a little hungry," you wink.

If Harry slips on his way into the bathroom, well, that's okay because you on your knees for him would take all the embarrassment away. Getting lost in the feeling of your mouth makes him forget everything around him except for you. And well, a gentleman always returns the favor.

The rest of the morning went perfectly as Anne came home and joined you for pancakes. Then Harry drove you over to the venue where he was instantly ushered around with Jeff, and you kept Anne company telling stories back and forth. It wasn't until close to lunchtime that Harry managed to get away bringing you with him.

Harry had brought you to sit with him on the steps of the stage. It was strange to see it empty when it had been packed to the brim of fans and friends watching him sing on stage the past two times. You had brought with you a clementine, and after peeling it, you gave half to Harry. Sharing a clementine has always been portrayed as an act of love, and it's intimate making sure to give half of what's yours to someone else.

You sit there eating silently, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you think a few weeks ago this might have been the last show, but it is not. No, you've three more to enjoy together and if all things go well, the end of the year as well.

"In the home stretch." Harry let out a deep sigh. "Only a week left." Time seemed to fly by with him, you think.

"You worried?" Harry asks.

"About?" You shift to look at him, hearing the shift in tone in his voice.

"Us."

"No," you answer confidently without missing a beat.

"Why not?"

You rest your head on your knees. "I love you." You shrug because it's that simple. "I'm going to do everything to make this work."

"Me too, angel," he promises, bending forward and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Good."

"What's after New York?" Harry continues with his questioning.

You exhale, "can we enjoy today?"

Harry looks at you for a second too long and agrees, noting you didn't want to discuss it. He kisses your temple and begins to stand up, "going to speak with mum."

"H," you sigh instantly, seeing he's upset.

"No, Bel. It's fine." He breathes out.

"Clearly, it's not."

Harry can see he can't leave now and expresses his thoughts.

"I want to talk about our future."

"And we will."

"I want to talk about it now."

You shut your eyes for a second before standing up, needing this conversation to happen at the same level and not talk down on. "What's a few more days?" You ask calmly.

"Nothing is tying you here. Why don't you want to discuss it?"

"Nothing?" You spat out, eyebrows raised. Your mood goes from tense to sad in seconds. "I've got family here. You also know my plans about finding a home in London."

"What for? So it can remain empty," he spits as you.

You're not one to back down, not ever. "Just like yours will."

"What?"

"Stadium talk sound familiar?" You've got a busy summer and even more active months after that." Harry freezes because you're right. He's going to be gone a long time traveling from country to country until he begins the press tour with Flo before the film releases in September. "You may not have brought it up yet, but others talk to me. You don't think we'll make it." You breathe out your heart at your throat. "Is that it?"

Harry deflates, "Bel, no."

"Then why are you getting upset?"

"Why are you?" He shoots back.

"Because a simple conversation about your tour ending made you upset with me."

Harry scoffs, "I've had enough."

He turns, and you know he's going to walk away from you.

"You promised me." Your voice cracks, betraying you, displaying how upset you really are. He freezes but doesn't turn to look at you. "You promised we'd talk things out. Not fight, not like Connecticut." Even the mention of the place you fought makes you more upset.

"Well, maybe you should get used to me breaking promises." His voice echoes out, each word finding a place to sink into your heart, only deepening the hurt.

It seems he might not have been as all in as you were. Now you aren't sure what the last few days mean, all suddenly beginning to feel like a dream.

There's nothing left to say. How are you supposed to fight for Harry and your love if he gives up this easily?

You walk away from him just as he was about to do, glad he did not see the expression on your face.

Were you foolish to follow him on tour? To have fallen in love so quickly.

Did love make you weak?

The tears threatening to fall blur your eyes, so you take a moment to stop and wipe your eyes. You need to get away. Except there is nowhere to go. Fans have lingered outside since early this morning. There are crew members at every corner you turn. You just want to get away.

You shove your hands in your pocket and sigh at the cold metal hiding in your pocket.

Harry's car keys.

He let you drive the car in this morning. You had forgotten to slip them in his bag after shutting off the vehicle. Well, at least for now, you had a place to be alone.

You move to lay in the back seat of the Range Rover, thankful for the tinted windows. You have your phone just in case but know no one will come looking for you, why would they?

You doubt Harry would mention the argument.

Being alone in your thoughts will be good, allowing you to reflect and try to figure out what upset Harry. It was the topic of the end of the tour, of course. He was upset.

Why did he throw your filming schedules in your face as if he was home all the time?

As you tried to find an answer to justify Harry's anger, you ended up falling asleep, not realizing how tired that made you feel.

You wake up startled, sitting up, and feel your phone buzzing on the floor. It must have slipped. You pick it up, staring at the screen and the various missed calls that have accumulated.

Shit.

How long did you nap that a search time seemed to have been sent out?

As you're about to reply to Jeff, a call from Glenne comes in. You answer on the second ring.

"Hello."

"Bel, where the hell are you?"

"I was sleeping." You avoid telling her where you were.

"Why?"

"Bel," she sighs. It's obvious she knows. Meaning everyone must know. "H said you got in an argument and left."

"Like I could go far," you muttered bitterly.

"We've searched everywhere."

"Clearly not."

"Not funny," Glenne scolds.

"I'll meet you back at the dressing room." You pause. What if he's there? You don't think you're ready to speak with him yet. "Wait, where is he?"

Glenne knows precisely the 'he' in question is and answers that he's right there pacing around waiting for any news.

"Oh. Well, you can come to me."

"Where is that?"

"In his car. By the private entrance."

Glenne doesn't hold back her laugh, it rings through the phone, and it makes you smile. "I have to tell him you're okay."

"That's fine. As long as my location remains hidden."

"You have my word."

It's only a few minutes later when there's a knock on the door, and it swings open where you don't only just see Glenne but Anne too.

"I brought back up." Glenne points her thumb behind her, and you grin, scooting to the end for both of them to come in.

"You alright?" You shrug because, honestly, you're not sure. "Though it was a dream."

"Want to tell us what happened?" Glenne asks softly, but you can't help but look at Anne and fear judgment for a moment.

"He's my son, but darling, I'm not here to make you feel bad or judge you. Just want to make sure you're both alright."

You appreciate her words. It's what you needed to begin to share your story.

"We were talking about the final shows. Then he asked about after New York, and I'd told him we'd talk about it then, not now. And he flipped."

"Bel," Glenne sighs, squeezing your hand.

"Then said not to expect him to keep his promises for the future."

"Fuck, Harry," Glenne mutters under her breathe.

You don't mention everything because the fight was intimate. It's about you both and your relationship. You feel strange speaking about it, but if anyone was able to help, it was Glenne and Anne who know him better than anyone, having been by his side for so long.

"Yup, now we're here."

Glenne and Anne share a look, making you wonder if they might know what's going through his head.

"Do you know what's going on?" Anne frowns, shaking her head.

"All he said was that you got in a fight and that he messed up."

You let your head fall in your hands, just wanting to drown your sorrows in something. "I wish I knew how to fix it, but if we don't talk, then we won't be able to."

"What do you want to do?" Anne asks.

"Right now or with Harry?" Two different responses.

"Right now." They reply, waiting for your response.

You look down, looking sheepish. "I'm kind of hungry."

"Then we eat. The best thing you can do is talk, but that can wait. Alright, darling girl." Anne assures you. "He's my son, but I will admit when he's being an idiot as all men are sometimes."

"Amen, Anne," Gleene agrees, throwing her arm over your shoulder.

As you all get out of the car, you walk by a noticeably large sign overhead saying 'Harry Styles Love on tour' the o on tour was a heart. Anne had asked for a photo, and neither Anne nor you could say no to her. You asked a worker who was walking by, assuring them that they could say no if they were busy. Lucky for you, they said yes. You hurried back over, standing to Anne's right arm around her waist. Glenne posed effortlessly to display her gorgeous outfit she picked especially for tonight as she texted you this morning asking if it was too much or just enough. In the middle of you two, Anne could not contain her smile. This happiness. The people around you, and that's how you knew that you and Harry could fix whatever had happened earlier in the day.

You stand there all close, huddled together, smiling and laughing, looking at Glenne's phone as she posts on her story, something private from fans at least for a bit. Neither one of you ever would stop Anne from posting. She's just a mum who loves sharing photos and videos, not her fault her son is a world loved artist. You love that; as much as she keeps Harry's life private, she shares enough because she wants her family to see her children's accomplishments.

Sitting down, you eat. You're hungry, and thankfully, the food never fails. Sarah's kitchen produces nothing but the best for you all every night without fail.

Dinner was good, giving you the clear head you needed. You knew you needed to talk to Harry, but you were nervous about approaching him. After eating and assuring almost everyone that you were okay, you made your way to Harry's dressing room which Glenne and Jeff had made sure was clear for you. Anne had been the one to distract Harry long enough, making sure he'd have enough time to get ready.

After eating and assuring almost everyone that came up to you that you were okay, you made your way to the restroom and got ready. Glenne made sure Harry was out of the dressing room, allowing you to do your makeup and hair there. You suggested going back to Harry's house for the night, but Anne was quick to shut you down, saying running away wouldn't fix anything.

The outfit you were wearing for tonight was a shimmering blue fabric on a black base. It's a twist crop top and ultra-flattering pants that hug you in all the right places. There are sexy high slits on both sides. It makes you feel confident knowing you look so good. You didn't want to do too much makeup, settling on shimmery eyeshadow to match your outfit and mascara to make your eyes pop. Slipping on your black platform heels wanting the extra height tonight, knowing it only made you look more desirable.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you were satisfied, meaning you had two choices: one, go find someone to hang out with for now and avoid Harry, or two, go find Harry and talk like you should have earlier.

"Look beautiful."

His voice startled you, not expecting him to have come back yet. You take a deep breath before turning around to look at him. You stay silent, not sure what to say.

"Hey."

"Hi," you whisper back, your voice escaping you. "I can leave if you need to change."

You look away from him, settling on looking at the floor. You miss the way the frown on his face deepens. Not knowing your words broke him a bit inside because just yesterday, you were helping him get ready, giving him a kiss every time you buttoned up his shirt.

Now you don't meet his gaze, standing tense a few feet away. He knows he did this. Now he's here to try and fix it and hopefully not mess up again.

"Don't want you to leave. You know how much I like having you here."

You shrug because you honestly aren't sure right now.

"Can we talk?"

"Okay."

You move over to the sofa and take a seat.

It's silent as you both avoid meeting each other's eyes, the gap on the couch different than what you're used to. You hold yourself back from crawling in his lap and just letting him hold you as he tells you that you would be alright.

"Bel, I'm sorry." You meet his eyes, and they are filled with sorrow. "I'm so sorry."

You let him continue knowing he's got to get this off his chest.

"There's this fear that we're going to burst the bubble. That all we have will come crashing down." He confesses.

"Does it feel like a fantasy to you?"

Harry exhales softly, "sometimes."

"I'm real. I'm here." You hope he can see the honesty in your face.

"I know."

"Your fears are valid, Harry. But fuck you attacked me. You threw your words at me like you wanted me to walk away like you wanted it to be my fault you lost me."

Harry's beautiful green eyes well up with tears, and it breaks your heart. "I know."

"You can't live with the fear that at any chance something will go wrong, and you'll lose me."

"But I can," he pleads for you to understand.

"That's not how relationships work, H." You shift closer, knowing he needs comfort. You place your hand on top of his thigh, his hand quickly follows, gripping yours tightly. Clinging to that small sign of hope that you're going to be okay. That he didn't mess this up. "I know you've struggled, but baby, so have I. I've given you everything and have bared my heart and soul to you."

Harry knows every part of you, parts you didn't even know that had been closed off until him. "I know, I know." He repeats. "You know everything. You hold my heart."

You're sitting right next to him, thighs touching.

"How will we make it work?" He asks, voice full of fear.

The fear of losing you while you're apart is what scares him. He can fight for you now, but what if when you're miles apart, he can't fix it? What then?

"Talking, lots of it. To the point, you'll get tired of my voice."

"Could never."

"Coordinate visits. Not saying it will be easy, but if you're all in then, we'll be alright."

He smiles, and it lightens the mood instantly. "Can't join me on a second tour."

"Not this time, mi vida."

"Disappointing."

"I know, can't be your groupie forever," you tease, calling back to the early days when he asked you to join him, and you thought it was the craziest idea then.

"Wouldn't want you to," you hear the sincerity in his voice.

"Now that's just rude, Styles."

Harry chuckles, shaking his head. "I mean that I want to see you in your element. Visit you on set, take your coffee and meet your team. Sit in your chair with your name on the back. But also go on dates and spend time together. Just me and you, baby." Harry expresses all his thoughts, deciding that sharing isn't so hard if you're the one at his side.

"Bel, let me promise you something."

“Harry," you frown.

"No, I apologize for earlier. I was an asshole, and I was scared, but you let me see that I didn't have to be."

"I forgive you. I do." You squeeze his hand. "You go asshole on me, and I swear I'll kick your ass," you falsely threaten.

"Won't give you a reason to."

You lean in and hug him. You hug him tight, needing to know that you're okay. That the argument is now in the past, and you'll move forward.

"I love you. I promise and cross my heart that I will bring my concerns to you. We will work through things together, whatever they may be."

"I love you, H. Promise to do the same."

You lift his hand and link his pinky with yours. Old school style, the best kind to be made.

Holding your pinkies together, you feel Harry begin to lean in, and you follow. Once your lips meet, all the worries fade away for the moment. It's two people reconciling after an argument. A foolish one, but you know each fight only makes you stronger.

Harry tilts his head, deepening the kiss. His lips are soft and warm. It's slow; neither of you picks it up simply, just wanting to get lost in each other. You break away to catch your breath, lips only a centimeter away, which Harry closes to peck your lips a few times until you pull away laughing.

"Couples fight. It's healthy or whatever. But you keep too much to yourself." You tell him, wanting him to be aware. You have your flaws, you know. You're sensitive, making it harder to have a conversation when the tension rises. Also, you walked away when maybe if you stayed, it could have cleared the way.

"Talked with mum. She made me see things clearer. Also, never hide, thought you really left."

"Yeah, I fell asleep in your car."

"Dork." He giggles. "I'd be the biggest idiot if I lost you."

"Not wrong," you tease.

"We'll pause then. On our conversation about what is after New York."

You laugh, "it seems best for now."

"Cause I have to get ready?"

"Hit the nail on the head."

"Alright, going to help?"

"You know it, rockstar."

You pull him in for one last kiss, both of you smiling against each other's lips, happy to be here in this moment. To be in each other's arms because there is no one else you want at the end of the day.

As soon as Harry stepped foot on stage, the smile on his face did not drop; well, it hadn't stopped since you helped him get ready. And maybe if Jeff hadn't walked in on you sitting on Harry's lap while wearing his sequined vest, then perhaps it'd be even bigger, but you doubted it was possible. After getting scolded by Jeff, neither of you, at the point to be the least bit embarrassed, you actually helped Harry get ready before you were kicked out.

Harry waved goodbye as his box was shut and was rolled under the stage. You were really looking forward to the behind-the-scenes footage the team had been compiling, maybe the fans would never see it, but you would.

Linked in hand with Glenne, you went out to your spot as the lights dimmed and Harry's final song on the playlist began as the countdown started for him to get on stage. Once he did, the screams were thunderous. You felt them echo out as if they'd never stop.

One stage, you didn't think it was possible to shine as much, but with his open vest covered in black sequined fringe paired with green embossed wide-leg trousers and cream leather boots, he was doing just that. It might also have to do with the glitter you put all over his chest, more specifically on his tattoos that were on display tonight. The ferns remained hidden. Those were for your enjoyment later tonight.

Much to your displeasure, the show had been flying by. Harry stood in front of you all, preparing to sing 'Cherry' when a sign caught his eye. "There's a sign that says 'I just got dumped' I'm really sorry. Maybe you can relate to this song. It's sad." And with that, he began to sing. The fans never failed singing along with him, not perfectly but with so much love.

After 'Lights Up,' a song that has become one of your favorites, hearing how special it is to hear life, to know that at one point, Harry wasn't sure of who he was but now proudly told his fans each night that he does. That he found himself and is proud of who he has become.

"Los Angeles! You having a good time so far?" The applause goes on for a few seconds before allowing Harry to continue. "Alright. Take a second to talk. Wanted to talk about the fact I've been coming to LA for ten years. After this show, only three shows left." You can hear the sadness in his voice at the thought of this ending for the time being. "I remember the first time I stepped in this room. I remember the last time I stepped in this room." He pauses for dramatic effect. "It was yesterday. But I also remember being here almost exactly two years ago. The day that my last album came out. And I cannot express to you how much you've changed my life over the last two years since I've been here."

He's holding on to the microphone stand for support; you hear that slight tremor in his voice to tell you he's overwhelmed but so happy. "And every time I get to play in LA is an absolute pleasure and a privilege, and some of the time when I'm here, I'm very lucky to have some friends in the audience. Over the years, people that I've met over the last, you know, twenty-seven years of my life."

The screams you feel are now booming, trying to find an escape only to bounce back, creating even more noise. "There are some people in this room tonight who have helped me more than I could ever express to them, and you all know who you are," his voice thick with emotion. "And each and every single one of you knows who you are, and I just want to say thank you because you've changed my life." Harry pauses to take a deep breath and lets the cheers die out. Harry plays with his in-ear, "and… I'm so happy." The smile on his face is breathtaking, one you hope Anthony was able to capture on camera.

"This is one hundred percent my favorite thing to do, and I appreciate you being here tonight so much. Thank you. Thank you. I knew this one was going to be fun. I could feel it. I could." He jokes, letting the seriousness fade away and go into the next ten minutes of dancing.

You've told Harry time and time again that 'Canyon Moon' live is fantastic. It's a fun song about going home to a person you love after a long time. He takes pride in writing your favorite songs. You're only a quarter way in when the camera's pan to Harry looking serious into the crowd.

"Stop, stop, stop. You good? You okay? Lights up for a second, please." He turns around, making his way to the middle of the stage where he keeps spare water. He bends down, and security gets it to the fan. "You okay? Good. Do you want me to keep going or wait?" Keep going, alright." He turns a skip in his step. "At least you're at the front now." Making the fan laugh and going forward with the show. You know Harry's going to keep an extra eye on them now that he's seen them. Harry wants people to have fun at his show, not get hurt. Meaning he tries to make this the safest environment for them with the bit of control he does have.

"Los Angeles, did you have a good time tonight?" Loud cheers ring around the room. "Thank you, you've been absolutely incredible. What's gonna happen next is we're going to do a song and disappear pretending it's the end of the show." There are loud 'awes' that ring out. "It's not." He giggles as the crowd begin to raise their voice again. He raises a finger to the air, wagging it around, "plenty more, you'll see."

Harry stands with his guitar strapped to his chest as he looks around as if he's trying to memorize every face in the crowd. "Before we do that, I want to say thank you to a couple of people if you're okay with that."

The audience would never disagree with him, so he moves forward with his speech.

"First of all, it is her last show with us tonight. Very sad to see her go. Please give a wonderful cheer to Miss Jenny Lewis, who opened the show. I've been a fan of hers for a long time. It's been a pleasure to watch her every night before coming on stage. She has loved you. Thank you so much for making her feel welcomed every night. Thank you very much."

Jenny has been incredible and so kind to you. You think back to the late-night run Harry offered to do for her when she ran out of dog food, an excuse to get you both out of the hotel you were staying at.

"Second, to my incredible band who is on this stage. Please make some noise." Harry laughs and claps along, knowing his band deserves the praise.

"Third, there is a large group of people in this room who get here a long time before any of us are in the room. They go home a long time after all of us have left. You don't see them. And quite simply, the show can't happen without them, so to the crew, all backstage make some noise." Everyone around you cheers as loud as they can, personally knowing each member of the crew and knowing how much Harry values everyone he has on his team. Without them, he wouldn't have an amazing show.

"Also, and potentially the most LA thing to ever come out of my mouth, my therapist is here, so thank you to her!" The cheers are loud, and the smile on his face is so wide you feel how much it brings you warmth to freely mention that. Both of you having gone to an appointment now that you were in Los Angeles. "Now, do you understand?' He giggles into the microphone as he takes in the crowd a final time before getting ready to sing. "So, thank you."

Harry has so many thanks to give, and you know it may not be directed to you, but you're just so grateful to see how loved he is. Everyone was hugging. Anne and Jeff hold each other tightly, and you move back to rest by a stage box taking in the family Harry had created during his time away from home.

You didn't even notice when Anne bounced over to you, tears still streaming down her face. You tried to wipe yours away, but it was too late, seeing as she noticed them only for more to continue falling down. Anne doesn't even say a word; instead wraps you up in a tight hug, allowing you to feel comforted.

"Alright, darling?"

"Yes," you wipe your tears, laughing a bit, when you see some glitter on your hands. "Nice to see he's so loved and has always had people supporting him and helping him.

"I'm thankful too. I'm his mother, so I'll always support him, but it's nice to know when I'm at home, and he's off doing what he loves that he's not alone and being taken care of."

You nod, squeezing her arm tight, holding them close to your chest. "He's so thankful for you. Always speaks highly of you." You assure her.

"And you darling."

Now that surprises you.

"Me? Oh, I've just entered his life. Hell, we fought today." You breathe out. "But I love him."

"Oh, darling." She brushes your hair back. "He loves you. Let his fear get in the way sometimes, but he loves you." Her words bring your tears forward again. "There is nothing more proud of than he is of you. He's so thankful to have you supporting him and loving him. You here every night is more than you can imagine."

Anne wipes your tears away. It reminds you of when your mother would do it when you were younger.

"I know it feels like you just entered his life, but you've changed him. He's happier and lighter. Oh, and so so in love. You take care of him so well."

Your tears are falling faster, and you pull Anne in for a hug tucking your head in her shoulder. "I love him. I promise to take care of him. He's truly the most amazing person I've ever met."

Anne kisses your cheek. "I know, darling."

You hold each other tight as you tune back onto the stage where Harry finishes his speech.

"Remember to find your sunshine. It might not feel like it's there all the time, but I promise you, once you find it, don't ever let it go." Harry pauses, turning around briefly. You know he can't see you, but knowing he's searching for you warms you with the best feeling. "I feel lucky enough to say that I have."

You know it's you. No one knows he calls you sunshine or sol as he prefers. But he constantly reminds you how much you've brightened his life. You vow to do the same.

You love Harry. You do.

These past two months have been insane, but you wouldn't change a single thing because it brought Harry into your life, and you're going to do everything in your power to have him stay and know he will do the same.

"And most importantly, most importantly to each and every single one of you, thank you so so much. I do not get to do this if you don't come. You've changed my life, and I'm so grateful. How important nights like tonight are to be with people you love. We'll be alright. This is 'Fine Line.'"

Harry and the band had just finished Medicine, and he was getting ready to introduce the band when you heard your phone ring. You knew it was a message, but something in your gut told you to check it.

Naomi

Mom is in the hospital. All good. Going home in the morning.

What?

Ruby wasn't okay.

You feel all the blood rush to your head and bump into Jeff. He's quick to take hold of your arm, holding you steady.

"Bel? You alright?"

You aren't okay. Your head was spinning.

"Uh...Naomi. Her mom's in the hospital."

Everyone around is suddenly moving faster, and you want them to stop.

Jeff is still holding your arm when you realize he's guiding you out. "Let's get you going."

"But H," you try to turn around, needing him to know. You also want to get out of there and call Naomi for a better update.

"We'll get him in the car with you as soon as he's off the stage. I'll talk to him through the in-ear."

You let him lead you after that. The black curtain moved as you walked by, a car already there waiting and running. Ready for you to get in. Jeff glances at you, debating to stay with you when he sees you put your phone to your ear, deciding you need privacy more.

It's close to two am in Minnesota, but clearly, she's up if she sent the message.

There is only one ring, and she picks up.

"Hey. You're up?" Naomi sounds exhausted and tense, not a good sign.

"You knew there was a show." You deadpan wanting her to get over the small talk.

"Yeah… Mom's fine, honestly."

"Did you just get there?"

She pauses. Too long. It must have been hours.

"A few hours."

"And you didn't call," your voice cracks.

"You were at a show," she defends.

"Unbelievable."

"It was her idea."

You scoff, laughing bitterly at Naomi pointing fingers at the person in the hospital, not wanting your anger directed at herself rather her mother, the patient. She knew it was pointless.

"Really?"

"It was, I swear. Didn't want to bother." She tells you as if sensing your anger. She continues, "her words not mine."

"Pass the phone."

"Uh…" you hear bickering in the background and let out a laugh. "She's sleeping."

"Seriously, I just heard her."

"Sleep talking," Naomi tries. Then there's the voice again asking for the phone to be given to them.

"Hi, sweetie."

You soften, thankful to hear her soothing voice. "Hi, Ruby. You alright?"

"I'm fine. Nothing to worry about."

"You sure?" Before she can answer you, ask another question, "what made you go?"

"Had a few dizzy spells. The last one had me falling."

"What caused them?"

"Lack of fluids."

You're shocked. Honestly, growing up, she was on Naomi about always being hydrated.

"Really?"

"You know it's hard to drink with the cold weather."

"Please be careful," you plead.

"Amir is all over it."

"As he should." You pause, glad to know her husband is going to keep an extra eye. Meaning buying those outrageous time water bottles. "Do you need me?"

"Oh, sweetie. As much as I love you and miss you, I'm okay. I'm good with three people to smother me for a bit."

"How did the others take it?"

"Better than you," she teases.

"Ruby, please. You're my family."

"I know, sweetie. The other trusts I'm in good hands."

"You better be," you sniffle, wiping away a tear that escaped.

"How was the show?"

"Lovely as always. He's incredible."

"I bet." You know she's grinning. "Going to have to take me eventually got to see the young man in action. Got to meet the potential son-in-law."

Those words move you to tears. You let them run free.

"You made me weepy."

She laughs. "Me too." Ruby pauses. "I miss you."

"Me too. Holidays soon," you remind her.

"Naomi says you have a surprise."

"I do," just thinking about it makes you excited.

"You spoil us."

"Not nearly enough." Naomi must have said something because she's laughing again. "Tell her I give her permission to tell you all about it tomorrow once you're home and settled. Then you can call me, and we'll make the arrangements."

"Alright, sweetie."

"You're—"you cut off as the door swung open, showing Harry's naked chest, vest in Luis' hand. "You're okay?" You check one last time."

"I am. Are you going to be alright? You in good hands?"

Harry is looking at your concern written all over his face. He scoots closer, resting a hand on your thought and the other on your cheek, taking note of your dried tears.

"The best," you assured her.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

You move your phone to your lap but keep your eyes locked on Harry's.

"Everything alright? Didn't explain much. Is Naomi okay?"

"It's her mom, Ruby. She's in the hospital. She was low on fluids and had her hooked to an IV now."

"She's okay?"

"Yes, keeping her overnight and going home in the afternoon."

He nods, "do you need a plane ticket?"

"What?"

"Do you want to leave in the morning or check if they have any leaving soon? LAX isn't too far from here."

You sit there shocked. Didn't think he'd be searching for flights for you.

"What?"

Harry doesn't sense your urgency and calms down. "It's your family, right?"

"Yes."

"Then we'll get you home," he promises.

"H, amor. Settle for a moment. Your adrenaline's still going."

"What?"

"Breathe with me."

He takes long, deep breaths and follows with long exhales. You repeat a few times until you see he's relaxed.

"Good?"

He nods his head.

"I'm not going. She doesn't want the fuss. She's got three people looking out for her."

"You sure? Not staying because of me."

"No amor," you peck his lips. "But I do appreciate it."

"It's family, lovie." He states simply. Like he understands if you have to leave because he knows how much you both value family.

"I know, but she's fine. Doctor's say she's good."

"You alright?"

That's when you notice the slight tremble in your hands still. "I will be, not something you expect."

"Yeah, I know."

Harry leans back against the middle seat, moving you to hold you close to his chest.

"We'll get home, and I'll make you tea and tuck you in."

"Sorry, you left in a rush," you apologize.

"No, lovie. There's no need. Go anywhere with you." He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you settled down, focusing on his heartbeat.

The drive home is silent, but his hold is strong.

You're okay.

You will be okay with Harry.

With Harry by your side, everything always would be.

thank you for reading <3 i adore you

taglist: @alienorknight @harry-is-my-sunflower @myfavfanficsever @springholland @michellekstyles @harryismyfwend @evanjh @onlyamylee @golden-hoax @itsmycorneroftheinternet @harryspirate @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thurhomish @thelovecayon @shawnieeboyy

twenty-five houston

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write-like-wright · 3 years

Text

Your First Kiss With Them: Defense Attorneys Edition

Part two of this request

Phoenix Wright

Your first kiss happens so casually it takes you a while to even realise it happened.

Nick asks you to come to the Zoo with him and Trucy, finally deciding to introduce you to his daughter. You're terrified but agree, hoping the girl will like you.

It turns out you were worried for no reason - Trucy is the easiest kid in the world to get along with. She takes to you immediately, asking you question after question while dragging you from exhibit to exhibit. Phoenix is thrilled with the outcome.

You offer to treat everyone to some ice cream and go to the nearest cart. When you come back Phoenix thanks you profusely, takes two ice cream cones out of your hands and gives you a quick little kiss so nonchalantly you barely even register it.

You laugh about it later once Trucy is safely tucked in her bed. Nick apologises and teasingly offers you a mulligan, which you gladly accept.

Mia Fey

You walk her to the train station one day.

Mia decides to visit the Kurain village over the weekend after her Friday trial got postponed. You were meant to go on a date later that evening but she rarely ever gets the opportunity to spend a day or two with her sister and cousin nowadays and you couldn't find it in yourself to be upset when she asked you to reschedule.

You offer to take her to the station and she eagerly accepts, laughing about the idea of having a "mini station" date. That's exactly what it is in the end - you arrive long before the train and end up getting some coffee from the vending machine and chatting on the bench.

Once you finally see the train drawing near, you get up and say your goodbyes, opening your arms for a hug. She laughs and pulls you in for a kiss instead, leaving you flustered as she waves at you through the window.

Apollo Justice

Trucy and you drag him to a Gavinners concert one day. Poor Apollo wants to die, but he can't say no to either one of you. Besides, it's only marginally better than spending another afternoon polishing the toilet at the Wright Anything Agency during a dry spell.

He's huffing and puffing all the while, the vein on his large forehead pulsating while Trucy and you dance the night away. You know he's pretending not to like the music - you've seen his Spotify playlist after all. As it happens, Klavier got you some of the best tickets the venue offered and you happen to be eerily close to the stage. Apollo would rather die than let his rival/not rival see him rocking out to the Gavinners.

"Come on, Polly! Are you going to be this grumpy all night long?" You ask, taking his face in your hands. He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can't think with all this noise." You laugh. How dramatic. "You're meant to have fun, not think! Come here." Somehow you get him to dance to the end of a song with you and you're so happy to see him in good spirits you just lean forward and press your lips to his.

"Ach, Herr Forehead! Even you can't resist the heartwrenching tune of my ballads, ja?" A voice comes from the stage and Apollo freezes momentarily, blood draining from his face when he pulls away. He leaves the venue immediately after, Klavier laughing on the stage and Trucy and you chasing after him through the crowd.

Athena Cykes

Happens during a date. She takes you out to do something involved, like laser tag or or paintball. You spend hours running around, shooting at the foes together, laughing and perhaps getting a bit too into it. The kids present fear you.

You return your equipment after the session, Athena clapping her hands together. "Wasn't that so much fun?! And what a great exercise too!" Perhaps exausting would be a better word, you think breathlessly. "What now? Wanna grab a bite?"

"NOW YOU KISS ME!" Widget exclaims, momentarily turning red then yellow immediately after. You raise your eyebrow at Athena, who presently looks like she wants the ground to swallow her. "Your necklace wants a kiss?"

"W-Well, not quite."

"No?"

"No, I do."

You laugh, bridging the gap between you.

Kristoph Gavin

Kris takes you to his favourite high end restaurant, dressed in his finest suit, smelling of expensive perfume.

It's a perfectly pleasant evening and he makes small talk, lets you lead the conversation while he smiles sweetly.

He spends a lot of the time looking at the piano player, but you brush it off. After all, the man is so bad it's difficult not to stare.

"May I kiss you?" He asks, just after your desserts arrive. You're caught off guard momentarily, but agree. His kiss is short and sweet, tasting of grape juice.

Ryunosuke Naruhodo

Happens immediately after his murder trial.

You're worried sick, waiting outside the courtroom. His predicament is difficult but Kazuma is there to take care of him which helps settle your nerves. As long as Ryu doesn't do something stupid, all should end well.

They exit the courtroom after what feels like hours and you immediately notice the wide, awkward smile on Ryunosuke's face and the pleased expression on Kazuma's.

"You're free?!" You run up to him, clasping your hands together. "Y-Yeah, I am." You grab him by the uniform and pull him into your arms, kissing him without reserve in your moment of joy. Kazuma laughs and Ryunosuke is wide eyed and stunned, a blush creeping up his face.

You thank Kazuma, pulling him in for a hug. "Don't thank me," he laughs, "My partner here handled his own defense."

"You did WHAT?!" You hiss, smacking his arm. "Ryu, you're so irresponsible sometimes. Wait, you defended yourself and won?"

#ace attorney #the great ace attorney #dai gyakuten saiban #phoenix wright #mia fey #apollo justice #athena cykes #kristoph gavin #ryunosuke naruhodo #headcanons #x reader #godot is in the first post bye #is that everyone tagged #poor apollo #call me klavier gavin cause i live to bully apollo justice

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1kook · 4 years

Text

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags; jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away. His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #mine

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anxious2dsimp · 3 years

Text

General Dating Headcanons | Sero, Todoroki & Bakugou

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Pairings: Sero x Reader, Todoroki x Reader, Bakugou x Reader

Reader: Gender Neutral!

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: Cursing bc Bakugou 🙄 (as if I wasn’t the one who picked him lmao)

Request: :))) hellooooo :D hmmmm may i get general dating headcanons for sero, todoroki, and [insert your favorite character]? 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 @smexy-goose

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Hi again!! Omg yes, I’ll gladly write some hcs for the best bois! I had a hard time picking a fave, but since I have written for Kami and Kiri in the last request I decided to go with blasty boy❤️ (Also, I’m trying a new way to post requests, I hope it works!)

Sero Hanta

I feel like Sero is genuinely so fun to date, just like he said in that one dorm episode, he’s always the wild card.

He’s a goofball, so he adores making you laugh and smile as much as he can. I love him omg😭

Will definitely take advantage of his height (he’s among the taller ones in the class) and give you surprise hugs from behind and rest his head on yours.

He’ll also use his quirk on you for everything from pranks to just randomly pulling you to him to give you a quick peck or a hug :’)

He’s pretty standard with PDA, so he won’t go around making out with you in public but he will do little gestures like those <3

In private I feel like he’s definitely cuddly, he’s just so happy to be with you!

He loves having you over at his room to just chill or be in each other’s presence, even if you’re doing stuff individually.

Speaking of, the bakusquad definitely complains about you having privilege in using the hammock in Hanta’s room.

Denki will whine like; “why does y/n always get to use the hammock? You said it was out of bounds!”

“That’s on pretty privilege, sorry! And you’re just jealous you don’t have a cool s/o like mine,” Sero will say and poke his tongue out from the hammock where you’re swinging togehter :’)

I’m warning you now, if you had a healthy sleep schedule before going out with him, you can kiss it goodbye.

Sero will absolutely be up till like 3 am sending you memes and tiktoks that remind him of you.

And with him blowing up your phone you’ll most likely end up talking into ungodly hours of the night, the *sleep deprivation* only causing funnier conversations.

Those will end up becoming inside jokes that he’ll bring up to make you laugh while the rest of the class is like ???

That also results in some weird ass nicknames sorry not sorry

So he’ll sometimes call you regular stuff like babe and other times... he’ll call you things like “Bert” (FOR NO REASON??) or “Candied Blood Pumping Organ” instead of sweetheart lmao

Overall you two are just THE chaotic couple (and if you’re not generally that way he will bring out that side of you)

Pranking your classmates? Pranking each other? Random ass adventures? Trying weird food together? Dancing in the kitchen at midnight while sharing late night snacks? By going out with him you said yes to all of the above.

From sneaking out of the dorms for late night food runs to occasionally skipping class to go to the arcade or the beach, you usually can’t go a week without doing something fun togehter.

This one time you two were out with the Bakusquad and y’all stopped by a supermarket to get food.

So you had to ask Bakugou to buy you something bc you and Sero had to stay outside and just hand him the money.

He was like “tf?? why? Just buy your shit yourselves!” You had to explain you two were banned from the store because Hanta had accidentally crashed a cart he was driving you around in into a display of cereal boxes.

Ah yes, good times.

Todoroki Shoto

I feel like he’ll definitely need a small push when it comes to relationships bc of his past, but once you’re with him he’ll care deeply about you and will try to make you as happy as you make him :’)

I’m begging you, please give this boy some luv and affection!! For the most part you’d probably initiate PDA because he’s too nervous to do it himself

At the beginning he wouldn’t even be comfy cuddling, solely because he’d be afraid of hurting you somehow :(

But once you’ve reassured him he complies, and from then on out you just have to open your arms and he’ll instantly know it’s *cuddle time*

It’a one of his favorite pastimes bc he just feels so safe and loved <3 he also just loves the feeling of you playing with his hair

Luckily you get to do it year round since you cuddle his hot side in the winter and cold side during the summer

I feel like he’s secretly insecure, so the fact that you trust him and love him for who he is makes him feel like he could melt <3

Because of that you’re the only one he truly opens up to and shows his real feelings to, not to mention the only one who can touch his scar

And though he isn’t great with words, one look at him during one of these personal moments when its just you two, and you can just see it in his eyes.

Especially if you kiss his scar, his eyes might even get teary this sweet boy I 😭

That’s also probably why he shares his precious cold soba with you

Since you’ve been together, Shoto has just been so much happier, so his siblings and mother LOVE you.

They’re constantly inviting you over for dinner when Endevour is working (bc he’s a huge buzzkill to say the least), and his mom adores when you come with Shoto to visit her :)

Todoroki really enjoys seeing you get along with the people he cares the most about...

BUT what he hates is THE EMBARRASING STORIES HIS FAMILY TELLS YOU OMG (you live for them, but I wouldn’t tell him that if I were you)

“Fuyumi remember when Shoto-” “Natsuo, no💙“ your bf will say as he unconsciously squeezes your hand, both of the siblings laughing at Shoto’s glare.

You had to hold in your laughter so hard omg

Though he isn’t that talkative, you guys definitely have that kind of relationship where you two could be silent and still feel completely comfortable (oh I’m so jealous of that but nvm)

He’s definitely observant, so expect the most considerate gifts and the most assertive observations, he’ll always know what you need.

The type of observant that gives you a water bottle before you even notice you’re thristy during training, or switches sides while walking so you loop your arm with his on his warm side when you’re cold.

Also the type to gift you that one thing you really wanted but mentioned once like months ago along with your favorite snacks/drink (you best believe he has them all memorized bc he’s just that attentive)

Over all, just a really soothing relationship were you can be comfortable with each other and feel at home when you’re together.

Bakugou Katsuki

Ok so, I feel like you’d be a competitive couple, turning anything into a competition in an endearingly annoying way.

You’re definitely the type of couple to go to laser tag, an escape room, an arcade, etc, as dates >:) but the competitions don’t end there:

Who can plan the best date? Who can make the other blush first? Who can get the other the better gift? Who’s the better kisser? Who gets the higher score in class? Or wins at sparring?

Especially when it comes to productive stuff like training or academics, although he won’t admit it, he’s just pushing you to be your best because he knows how amazing you are :’)

All the bakusquad knows about your shenanigans and at this point they’ve learnt to stay out of it & go get the Advil just in case bless their souls lmao

I’m sorry but he definitely calls you nicknames that purposely piss you off (with no ill intentions ofc), like “gremlin”, “dumbass” or “booger”

I suggest you also call him stuff like that back, like “angry pom” or “blasty” to get on his nerves >:)

You guys also definitely friendly bicker all the time, knowing that you take it lightly (though strangers won’t, resulting in some hilariously awkward situations)

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” he’ll say rolling his eyes as he messes up your hair.

Just watch his smirk dissapears when you reply, “no, u❤️″ It gets on his nerves, I just know it.

So he’ll chase you around as you call each other random stuff. While the other people at the convenience store are just like 👁👄👁

He never means it tho, keep in mind if you’re dating the self proclaimed future no. 1 hero he thinks highly of you :)

So he’d definitely be protective while simultaneously showing you off <3

Will always greet you with a kiss and keep his hand on your back or waist so ppl know you’re with him

RIP anyone who tries to hurt or flirt with you, I say try bc Bakugou will be exploding them even before they get the chance😅

Denki’s definitely almost gotten his brows blown off his face bc of that lol

Speaking of, the bakusquad still can’t get over the fact that THE lord explosion murder has a soft spot for you,

You mean you take care of his injuries, scold him when he burns himself out, touch his hair, and hug him when his moody... and you DON’T get cussed out and blown up? Shooketh

However they don’t see what happens behind closed doors, & how you’ve helped him with all the trauma he has experienced

You’re the only one who he is vulnerable with, you’ve seen him cry and he tells you about his nightmares and fears

You do the same with him, and you promise each other to get through anything together, which you’ve done so far :’)

Bc of that his parents love you, and his mom’s always going on about how she’s so glad you “stand” his son😂

Why can’t he be real ughhh

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batsandbugs · 4 years

Text

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 4: The Three Stooges

AN: At least it hasn’t been two months again 😅. Let’s check in with the other batboys and see how they’re handling Damian and Marinette’s chaos.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Tim wondered when his day took a solid dive off the cliffs of normal and into the waters of weird.

It probably started when Dick dragged them out of bed at eight in the morning – on a Saturday – piled them into the car, and drove them an hour and a half out of the city to an IKEA. If they had actually been there to shop they would have either burned the store down or killed one another.

Not that those things were off the table yet.

Tim had work, actual work, that he could be doing. But no, instead he was playing a demented game of hide-and-go-seek, which was careening into an all-out war. The destroyed shelving units, shopping carts, and forklift were unmistakable evidence of that.

How had the demon spawn accomplished this in less than a minute?

Bruce would kill them, once he came back from off-world.

That is if Alfred didn’t get to them first.

“Uh, order 177? Shit, my pay isn't enough for this.”

The words shook Tim from his stupor. He walked over to the counter.

“Hi,” he said, flashing his most charming CEO grin. “I have a quick question?”

The server's fixed smile contrasted with his dull eyes.

“I need to know what way the boy who ordered this headed.”

“No.”

Tim sighed, “Look, it’s important. My brother-”

“I mean, no, it wasn’t a boy.”

Tim paused. “Huh?”

“It was a girl, a teen girl. Black hair, big blue eyes, French accent. She was sitting over there,” he waved at an empty table. “But I think she walked away before that happened.” Referring to the giant train wreck occurring a few aisles over.

“Oh,” said Tim. “Thanks.”

“Do you want the order?”

Tim held back an annoyed sigh.

“Sure.”

So that’s how he, Jason, and Dick, sat at the abandoned picnic table, staring at the abandoned meal bought with Damian’s credit card. Jason grabbed a couple of fries and shoved them in his mouth.

“That’s evidence, nitwit,” hissed Tim.

Jason ignored him, stabbing a meatball with the plastic fork. “What? It’s going to go to waste. Girlie obviously ain’t coming back for it.”

“We should be more worried about how a random girl used Damian’s credit card!”

“She could have stolen it?” offered Dick.

“Demon spawn would have broken her arm before getting pickpocketed,” countered Jason, eating another fry. Silence. A weird glint appeared in Jason's eye. He turned to Tim. “What did you say the girl looked like again?”

“Black hair, blue eyes, French accent.”

“Shit,” muttered Jason.

“What?”

“I think I ran into her earlier, about an hour and a half ago. Asked her if she had run into demon spawn – she sounded confused and tourist-like. But maybe…”

“Maybe she’s working with him?” offered Tim.

“Could be.”

“Damian? Working with another person? A stranger?” Dick shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like him.”

Jason shoved another fry into his mouth. “The brat’s a competitive little shit, if he thought teaming up would help him get ahead, he’d do it in a heartbeat.” He pointed a fry at Tim. “Can you look at the security footage?”

“I’m already two steps ahead of you,” Tim said, flashing his phone with the hacked in security camera footage on-screen. Jason and Dick huddled in close as a small girl walk on screen and stood at the counter.

“Yep, that’s her. Can you ID her, Timmy?”

Tim rolled his eyes, “This is a smartphone, Jay, not a laptop.”

“I thought Mr. World’s Second Greatest Detective would be prepared for anything.”

“Well excuse me for not having facial recognition software, on my phone.”

“Guys chill.”

“Shut up, Dick,” Jason and Tim said in unison.

The footage played out and they watched the girl order two meals and pay with Damian’s credit card. They switched to another camera when she left and sat at the picnic table. A few minutes later Jason and Tim walked into frame.

“Look, there! She tenses. Look at her body language, she’s panicking. She knows who you two are.” Dick looked shocked that, yes, Damian had teamed up with a partner.

They watched the girl panic, although she managed to keep her body from reacting too much. She placed her phone to her ear and walked away from her spot.

“Who is she talking to?”

“Maybe Damian was watching out of sight?”

“Shoot, Tim, she’s out of frame. Do we have another angle?”

It took another minute or so, but Tim found the right security camera catching the mysterious girl leaving the food court. As she walked away the image on the screen flickered, and a moment later the shelving units fell.

“Oh crap,” swore Jason. “Do you think she has magic? Fuck, it would be just our luck if demon spawn teamed up with someone dangerous.”

Dick shook his head. “It could be a coincidence. We didn’t see her do anything. The chaos could have been a coordinated effort between her and Damian.”

Tim wasn’t so sure. “Come on Dick, you’ve been in the game long enough to know just because something looks one way, doesn’t mean it's true.”

They watched the girl hurry out of sight, this time it was much more difficult to follow her progress through the store. She would randomly duck in and out of showrooms, coming out differently than how she came in. If the three boys hadn’t been trained in stealth and detection for years, they would have had a challenging time tracking her.

Jason whistled low. “Who is this chick? I’m impressed. She has serious skill.”

Finally, she ducked into a showroom and didn’t come out. Tim couldn’t find a camera giving them an unobstructed view, but it didn't matter. They had a destination.

“This was ten minutes ago, they could already be long gone,” said Dick.

“Or they could still be hiding there,” countered Jason.

“We’ll find out when we get there.” They walked out of the cafeteria and past the closed aisles. The forklift that had been buried under the collapsed shelving unit was being unearthed by a flock of bewildered employees.

“Ten bucks says she has magic,” said Jason.

“Yeah, no.” Tim was good at math and the odds of everything happening just as she left was too big to be a coincidence. “I’m not stupid enough to take that bet.”

“Come on you guys, let’s focus here,” chided Dick.

Walking back through the showrooms Tim kept an eye out for any sign of his brother or his accomplice, but it was as if they had disappeared into thin air. Arriving at the last location they had spotted the girl, they waited for a touring couple to leave before descending on the tiny, boxed room like the detectives they were trained to be.

It didn’t take long to discover the lasered off vent.

“Shit,” groaned Jason. “They could be anywhere by now.”

“Tim can you-”

Tim had his phone in hand, “I’m already on it. I’ll have the vent layout in a minute.” He felt insulted they even needed to ask.

Jason peered into the vent, “Damn, I think we’re too big to follow.”

Dick sighed. “I miss my vent crawling days; they just don’t make them as big as they used to.”

“That’s what she said,” snickered Jason.

“Focus you two,” Tim snapped. “I’ve pulled up the air duct plans.” He flashed the screen to his two brothers who settled down. “This particular vent runs a couple of places. We have one entrance at the back of the store in the storeroom. Then another veering off near the daycare center, and the last which comes out near the unloading dock.”

“I’ll take the one next to the daycare center,” said Dick. “I’m the only one who isn't demented,” pointing to Jason, “or sleep-deprived,” pointing to Tim.

“Hey!” exclaimed Jason.

Tim sneered, repressing a Damian-like growl, “I wouldn’t be so sleep deprived if you hadn’t dragged us out of the house at eight in the morning. I arrived in from patrol at three.” He hadn’t had coffee in hours, and the weight of his body pressed on him like a panini maker.

Dick ignored them. “Jason can take the one at the loading docks, and Tim you’ll be able to bypass security and get into the back the easiest.”

“Sounds good to me,” grunted Jason.

“Alright,” agreed Tim. “The second any of us spots them, text the group chat, will box them in from there.”

They nodded and headed off their separate ways. Despite the tiredness in Tim's bones, there was a heady rush of the hunt thrumming in his veins. Damian, and whoever he had decided to pair up with, were going down.

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kelieah · 3 years

Text

flowers (din djarin x reader)

summary: din attempts to show his gratitude to the one person who’s been by his side all along

word count: 1.5k

warnings: fluff

edited: also pls go easy on me lmao, i’m not following the plot bc it’s just a quick fluffy blurb w a lil bit of background! allsssooo please refill out or let me know if you want to be tagged for my star wars / din djarin fics

a/n: sdjhbfdsfb yay! first star wars fic (not technically but let’s go w it), i’ve been wanting to write for their characters for the longest time and idk what’s stopping me ?? so here we goo

main masterlist | din djarin masterlist

You worked all your life as a mechanic, studied different droids and ships yet here you are now, taking care of a child. The child of a Mandolorian who constantly came to you to have his ship fixed.

It all began when the two of you first met, he landed in your hangar with his busted up Razor Crest and asked for repairs. You told him you could do it for him with the help of your droids. Although, he was quick to reject your droids and asked for only you to work on it. You obliged in the end when he offered more credits, five hundred credits to be specific, for his request.

While you were repairing his ship, you had to take a look in the interior as well because of how grave the damages were. But while you were fixing the inside, a faint noise startled you. That’s when you discovered the child, who is also known as Grogu. You and Mando, or who you now call Din, found out not too long ago.

Your relationship with Grogu came naturally and easily. He grew attached to you immediately as did you. Although with Din, that was an entirely different story. After countless visits to your hangar and getting to know you, he fought with himself to make the decision to ask you to come along. He knew only so much about you but knew about your strong crave for adventure. It was a conflicting decision for him to make, he felt his odd sense of responsibility for you but he also emphasized with your past living and hardships. Eventually he asked you and to his little surprise, you agreed to come along with no hesitations.

Now, here are the three of you on a typical day of resting. Din lets you know that him and Grogu are going to the market. You find it odd that he doesn’t ask you to come along like usually would due to his overprotectiveness and slight trust issues but decide to brush it off. “We won’t be long,” he says while putting Grogu into his side.

“Whatever you say, tin head,” you yawn and turn back to your tinkering.

He rolls his eyes beneath his beskar helmet at your comment and walks off towards the coordinates of the nearest village. Even though it annoys him, he had to admit he never got tired of your insults and nicknames for him.

The village wasn’t too far from the ship and besides, he wasn’t really planning to get anything new. If you check now you’d realize you all didn’t need any more food or supplies for another week. He’s actually on the search for a gift. Din’s not one to express himself properly so after a short catch up with Cara Dune, he realizes he should be thanking you more. Not that he doesn’t thank you after you help him all the time, but bigger acts of gratitude. Though what would he know?

“You really don’t know a thing, don’t you? Look, maybe get the girl some flowers and give her a nice big kiss to show her how thankful you are,” Cara chortled while chugging down the rest of her soup. Din pursed his lips and scoffed in response. “You got something good for you here, Mando. I wouldn’t let it pass,” she teased and patted the table, before dismissing herself. As he watched her walk off, her words remained in his mind for quite some time.

“Do you see flowers anywhere, kid?” he mutters while striding through the busy village. Grogu coos in response and reaches out to an area. Din turns around and glances in the direction he reaches out toward only to see a stand full of flowers. He walks towards the stand and looks around the selection, uneasiness settling inside of him like before when Cara told him to get you flowers. He huffs in annoyance. Why were there so many different types? And colors? And scents?

This is a waste of time, he briefly thought to himself about to turn around until the merchant speaks up. “A Mandolorian buying flowers? Never thought I’d see that day, special someone?”

He lets out a quiet sigh and turns back around, nodding at her. Special is one way to describe it. He thinks deeply for a moment and stares at the variety of choices, debating which one would suit you best. He shakes his head due to being unable to make up his mind and turns away. He picks up Grogu who was beginning to walk off toward a frog and heads toward the other stands to clear his conscious. Not too long after, he purchases a snack for the kid and you. He eventually comes back to the flower stand and tosses the previous merchant a decent amount of credits. “I want it all,” he says firmly. The merchant gapes at the currency in her hands and glances up at him with a shocked expression. She nods quickly and hurries herself to gather all the flowers.

You start to wonder what is taking the two so long until you hear a series of short grunts and noises of, dragging? You place down your tools and press a button to open the back gate. You walk down to see Din dragging along a floating cart full of a ton of something covered high. Grogu reaches out from his bag and smiles at you. You walk over and scoop him up in your arms, pulling him close. Din turns his head towards you as you raise an eyebrow at him. “What is it?” you hesitantly ask and stare at him oddly.

His lips curl into a slight smile at your confused expression. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your face is a bit flushed from the work you were doing. Your lips are molded into a pout and the quirk of your eyebrow amuses him. He realizes soon enough that he’s staring and curses himself. “See for yourself,” he steps aside from the cart and fails to keep his eyes off of you.

You glare at him warningly and hand him Grogu, reaching out toward the cloth. He smirks slyly and holds the child, nodding for you to continue. You mutter incoherent insults that he easily picks up and chuckles inaudibly. You grasp it and begin to pull it down until Din startles you by yelling just to scare you. Grogu giggles at your reaction. “Dank Farrik! Din! Don’t- don’t do that!” you swat at him and huff, finally pulling off the cloth. He chuckles quietly and waits for reaction. Your eyes widen at the crate full of flowers, the scent overwhelming your nose and the vibrant colors blinding your sight. “Oh, stars,” you mutter and reach out for a bunch, gently caressing one of the petals. “What are these for?”

He shrugs dismissively and looks at Grogu to avoid your adoring gaze. “For you,” he states and bounces the little creature in his arms. You smile widely and look back at the flowers with pure joy, sniffing once again to enjoy the blissful aroma. Grogu squeaks to be let down and Din listens, placing him down. Uncertain of what else to say, he only stands back up and observes you taking in his gift.

“Why though? It’s not my bornday,” you bite your lip attempting to contain your excitement due to receiving such a thing from Din Djarin himself. Over the course of months you’ve got to know this stubborn Mandolorian, you knew expressing himself was one of the hardest things for him to do.

“I know.”

“Then?” you take a step towards him and avert your eyes toward the flowers once more.

He exhales and purses his lips, searching his mind for words to put together. “To thank you,” he trails off and notices your look of encouragement for him to keep going. “For everything you’ve done for Grogu and I. For me,” he adds and cringes at his weak explanation. “Look, you mean a lot to the kid, and me. Besides giving you some of my credits, my sleeping quarters, food and—” he begins to list off things he provides you with which should be a given, especially since he asked you to come along. You raise both your eyebrows in unamusement and cross your arms, tilting your head at him. He couldn’t hold back a grin at your sudden attitude and shakes his head. “I wanted to thank you for everything you do, with flowers. Because, they’re. Uh, flowers.”

You press your lips together and nod in acknowledgement, restraining yourself from insulting him like you usually did. For once, you believed this wasn’t the time to. You briefly avert your eyes back and forth between him and the flowers and decide to show him your thanks as well. You jump into his arms and hug him tightly, or at least attempt to hug him with his bulky clad of armor on.

“Oof,” he mutters and freezes up at your unexpected actions, unsure of what to do.

“Hug me back, laser brain,” you grumble.

He feels an unfamiliar discomfort in his stomach, his heart beginning to quicken and his cheeks starting to warm up. In disbelief of this feeling, something he begins to remember he hasn’t felt in a long time, he smiles at the thought. He hugs you back, pulls you close and rests his chin upon your shoulder while wrapping his arms around your waist gingerly. “Thank you,” he mumbles softly.

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tagging some mutuals! @sunsetholland @opheliacult @greenorangevioletgrass @poestardust @buckysbeloved @dcisyquakes @florenepughs @marvelinsanity @hollandcrush @spideyspeaches @calltothewild-blog @eusuntgroot @emmastarz @peterbenjiparker @earthlyholland @etherealsanakin

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#kelly's long reads #din djarin #din djarin one shot #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fluff #din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x you #the mandolorian fanfiction #the mandolorian #star wars #star wars fanfiction

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shoutaaizawas · 4 years

Note

Jordan...I think you know what i'm requesting for. 👀I would like to request a disneyland date w/ aizawa please! However long you like, and whatever style you prefer (hc, drabble, scenarios etc.), I'll love it in whatever form. You're writing is amazing as always, tysm~ 💗🌙

this was an absolute delight to write, it gave me all the serotonin but also made me miss disneyland. im gonna go through my photos from my trips now lol thank you for this

↳ aizawa shouta x reader → ❝disneyland❞

summary: your boyfriend aizawa takes you on a date to your favorite place word count: 1.9k+ tags/warnings: fluff, disneyland a/n: if you want some song recommendations for this married life from up and i see the light from tangled (it’s mentioned in the story so playing it there would be the perfect timing)

masterlist

For someone who seemed so indifferent, Aizawa was very invested in you, and the things that made you happy. That’s how you ended up at your favorite place on earth for what you could already tell would be a perfect day.

The two of you were at Disneyland and Aizawa knew exactly how you liked to spend the day there. You got there before park opening, getting beignets at Downtown Disney for breakfast. A terrible sugary fried dough that was not a balanced breakfast but did it matter? You were at Disneyland. You laughed at Aizawa as he took a bite trying to avoid getting the powdered sugar on his black shirt. He failed but that gave you an excuse to brush the sugar off his chest.

Waiting in line to enter the park always left you with that giddy feeling in your stomach. Walking in through Main Street, music playing and the scent of fresh popcorn and cookies in the air you looked at Aizawa asking him what he wanted to do first.

“Space mountain?” He asked. “If we get there fast enough there won’t be a line.”

“I love your mind.” You said before you grabbed his hand and took off running towards the ride. Tomorrowland was always a fun place to start, and after you hit space mountain you could go on the smaller rides there.

“Okay, but what are we doing for the photo?” You asked walking through the hallways into the loading dock for the ride.

“Hmm.” He said. You always had to plan for a pose for the photo in the ride. Aizawa didn’t care but he always indulged your ideas. “Can’t think of anything.” He said.

Aizawa was a liar. As you got to the spot where the picture was taken, which both of you knew well, he grabbed your face pulling you in for a kiss. By the time you got to the screens where the photo showed you were laughing at how shocked and flustered you looked.

Of course, you got a copy of the photo.

After Space Mountain, the two of you made your ways to Star Tours then after that Buzz Lightyear’s Astro Blasters. The two of you always had a fun time on it. The ride was both a ride and a game where you shot a laser gun at targets. No matter how hard you tried you could never beat his high score. Today was not an exception.

You were starting to think he was cheating, how was it even possible to get a score that high. And he was so indifferent about it. You gave him a hard time about his score as you exited the ride.

“It just doesn’t make sense how you’re that good.” You whined.

“I don’t know what to tell you.” He replied taking your hand in his as you returned to the more crowded area of Tomorrowland.

“It’s not fair.” You said your thumb absentmindedly rubbing against the back of his hand.

“Do you want to go to Matterhorn or Thunder Mountain next?” He asked.

“Hmm, Matterhorn is closer.” You said. He nodded and headed in that direction leading you through all the people. You passed the water of the Nemo ride, watching as the submarines went by.

As you approached Matterhorn you could hear the rattle of the carts going by and people screaming. The sound got you excited for the next ride. The polka music playing as you lined up in the queue.

Matterhorn was one of your favorites even if Aizawa complained about how much it threw you around.

“I think it threw my back out of place.” He complained rubbing his shoulder.

“Aww, baby.” You cooed, walking behind him and rubbing his shoulders. “Maybe if we go on it again it will put it back?”

“I’d rather not take my chances.” He said rolling his eyes at your joke.

“Can I get you some popcorn to make it up to you?” You said, leaning up to press your cheek against his as you continued to rub his back.

“Maybe.” He said.

Popcorn made every line better no matter the wait time. The sun was high in the sky as the two of you crossed through Fantasyland into the back way to Frontierland. You passed by the track of the roller coaster Thunder Mountain, the train car coaster flying past into the intricate desert mountain architecture. You looked at Aizawa excited as you made your way to the queue, snacking on popcorn as you waited.

After Thunder Mountain you went on to Pirates of the Caribbean, appreciating the scent of the water that was so unique to Disneyland. On the ride you found Aizawa’s head resting against your shoulder, you couldn’t blame him it was dark and cool. The perfect nap spot. Since the boat ride was so long it left you with a good amount of time to do so. Not that Aizawa needed any of those luxuries.

Once you were off the ride Aizawa was looking refreshed after his power nap so it was time for you to drag him to his least favorite ride. Splash Mountain.

Aizawa was a brave man, there was no question about it. If he was Superman, Splash Mountain was his kryptonite. He hated the ride, there was something about the drop at the end that he could not handle. This didn’t mean he wouldn’t go on it but he suffered through it every time. All it took was one puppy-eyed look and he was getting in line with a sigh.

On the ride you took the front seat happily as Aizawa sat behind you, holding onto your waist for dear life despite the fact that you hadn’t even left the loading dock.

The ride floated through the log flume as you moved through the different scenery. As it went inside with all the animatronics you danced along with the song humming as you did. The ride went further and the song got menacing as the log began to climb up to the top of the drop. Aizawa now had his head buried into your shoulder as the light got closer.

Once you reached the top you enjoyed the brief view of Disneyland before it plummeted to the bottom, water spraying you as you laughed.

“I hate that.” You heard Aizawa mumble into your shoulder.

As the two of you climbed out he grumbled about how much he hated wet socks as you walked out of the ride. You couldn’t help but snap a photo of the photo the ride took. Your smiling face with Aizawa’s hair covering your shoulder was too good to pass up.

In your gratitude you took Aizawa to his favorite food spot in the park, the clam chowder at Disneyland was amazing and you could never resist. You were able to dry off as you ate and Aizawa looked much happier after eating.

Indiana Jones was the next stop, always an exciting ride and one that didn’t torture Aizawa. In fact, you thought it might be his favorite ride, not that he ever admitted to having a particular favorite. He claimed he liked all the rides, Splash Mountain excluded.

Once you were off that you spent the rest of the day on the smaller rides that didn’t have as long of lines.

The sun began to sink into the horizon and lights began to go on. Disneyland at night was nearly another place. The perfect lighting throughout the park was such an experience.

Finally, the event of the night was here, the fireworks. Now, most people went for the spot in front of the castle to watch it. Which was a good place but it was always very crowded and you had to go early to get a spot which wasted a lot of time you could spend on rides.

The best spot was in Fantasyland, by the carousel. You could watch the fireworks from behind the castle and there were never too many people there. You stood next to Aizawa, Fantasyland was pretty much empty other than a few people in line for Dumbo. The carousel stood in front of you but it was closed during the fireworks.

Aizawa’s right arm was wrapped around you holding you close to his side. You leaned your head against his shoulder as the fireworks began. Music played and fireworks lit up the sky.

You watched in awe at the display, it didn’t matter how many times you had seen it before it was always so beautiful. A familiar song began, I See the Light from Tangled. That song always managed to make you tear up. You were so engrossed in the moment that you didn’t pay any attention Aizawa touching your hand.

That was until you felt cold metal against your finger. You looked down curious what was happening only to see a ring on your left hand. You stared at it trying to understand if what you thought was happening was really happening right now.

Looking up to Aizawa you saw an unfamiliar expression on his face, something between nervousness and excitement. Your eyes teared up, the fireworks around you, the music swelling to the peak of the song, the ring on your finger asking you a question you understood far too well.

“S-Shouta are you?” You questioned.

“Will you marry me?” He asked, his words so heartfelt only pushing more tears from your eyes.

“Y-Yes,” You answered. “Of course!”

Aizawa leaned down, one hand on your cheek and the other around your shoulders as he kissed you.

You loved Aizawa and there was no question in your mind what your answer would be to him. There was no one else you could imagine spending the rest of your life with.

Disneyland was a great place for him to propose at and the way he had done it was literally perfect. The perfect setting and timing not to mention it was subtle but more meaningful than anything else could be.

You loved going to Disneyland with Aizawa.

It’s the way you hold hands through the crowds so he doesn’t lose you and how even when you are out of the crowd he still holds your hand. How he holds you from behind while you're in line, resting his head on your shoulder. That small smirk he gives you at the end of a ride when you look over at him with a big, excited smile. It’s sharing a pretzel, tearing off a piece of the bread and dipping it in the nacho cheese before stuffing it in his mouth for him. It’s how romantic it feels to walk together through the chilly night with the lights glowing perfectly around you.

There was no better way to spend a day with your boyfriend- no your fiance.

After the fireworks most of the crowds left, you took advantage of this going on all the popular rides again while there was no line. Once it got late, the park began to close and you both began to walk out through Main Street, the piano music filling the street like a goodbye.

“Do you want anything?” Aizawa asked gesturing to the gift shops.

“I think I have the best souvenir I could ask for after today.” You said holding up your left hand to him with a smile.

Aizawa smiled back taking your hand in his again, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Let’s go home, princess.” He said teasingly.

taglist: @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis-but-more-otaku @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bkglovesyou @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia @moon-write @todominica @why-so-red @kvichisaki

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #bnha x reader #bnha #mha #mha x reader #my writing #filmsnroses

246 notes · View notes

alolowrites · 4 years

Text

Small Competition

Summary: Your boyfriend encounters a young boy who has a puppy crush on you.

Author’s Note: Here’s a little drabble to celebrate my 200 followers milestone. This is just one part of it; the other part is sending requests for the Hero Camp Bingo event! Please click here for more information! Just a heads up, it is a BNHA x F!Reader drabble.

Enjoy!

Bakugou

The trees slouch in odd yoga positions. One bird roasts midair. A kid’s sneaker melts onto the sizzling pavement, and she looks confused. Summer is not showing any mercy as it ravages Japan with its unbearable heat and humidity.

If you can’t beat the heat, then you best believe you’ll avoid it.

That is why you’re currently in a lovely ice cream shop instead of suffering outside in the pits of hell. Your table sits in a private corner, the glass window offering a perfect view of the bubbling streets. Someone cracks an egg onto the pan and scrambles it around.

You shrug. You’ve seen weirder things.

“Mmmh!” The creamy goodness blesses your taste buds. “Yup, this ice cream was exactly what I needed.”

Bakugou snorts, “That shit better be good after you dragged me over here, Xena.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Someone screams your name. You turn around to see a familiar face and smile, “Naoyuki! Is that you?”

A boy, no older than ten years old, dashes to your table. Bakugou takes a bite from his soft serve and eyes the kid. Nothing too suspicious until he hugs you and holds your hands far too long for Bakugou’s liking. He obnoxiously clears his throat.

“Oh, Katsuki, this is Naoyuki!” Innocent eyes twinkle at Bakugou. “We’re neighbors, and sometimes I babysat for him before moving into the dorms. Naoyuki, this is my boyfriend, Katsuki. Don’t mind the mean look—he won’t bite.”

The mean look never disappears.

You pat the boy’s head. “Listen, I’m going to buy some water. Why don’t you wait here until I get back.”

“Okay!” The moment you leave, Naoyuki’s head snaps at Bakugou. His doe-like eyes turn into cold steel. Without blinking, his lean body slips onto the empty seat. Two hands cooly slide on the metal table. He’s like a businessman getting ready to negotiate a strict contract. Unsurprisingly, the boy cuts to the chase.

“Stay away from her; she’s mine.”

Bakugou’s nostrils flare. “You got some nerve, brat.”

“I saw her first!”

“The fuck does that have to do with anything?” Bakugou slams a fist on the table, and the entire floor shakes. “I’m her boyfriend, so deal with it. Look for someone your age, dumbass!”

An intense staring contest commences. You are oblivious to the thick tension clogging the air vents. Bakugou immediately senses you and yanks your arm. Falling on his lap, you feel his arm cage you against him. Not once did he break his gaze from Naoyuki, who is fuming. His entire face brightens up like a red hot chili pepper.

Try me, fucker, Bakugou gloats with a smug expression.

Shinsou

Flowers bloom under the mighty sun.

The weather is perfect—not too hot, not too cold. Even Ms. Goldilocks would approve of this beautiful spring afternoon. You and Shinsou stroll through the park hand in hand until a large tree emerges from the distance. The green leaves dance above your heads as you two eat in peace. Half an hour later, you find yourself curled up against a sleepy Shinsou.

A cheery voice distracts you from your reading.

“Naoyuki, is that you?” Shinsou hears the grass rustle and peeks at the newcomer. He stays quiet when you give the boy a quick hug. “You’ve gotten taller! Sorry for not visiting too often; school is such a pain.”

“I haven’t hit my growth spurt yet,” he chirps. “Sadly, I don’t see you a lot, but you go to U.A., which is so cool! Also, who’s your friend?”

Shinsou is wide awake now. The kid gives him a weird vibe.

“Oh, this is Hitoshi, my boyfriend.” Naoyuki’s cheerful face twitches; Shinsou notices before the boy regains his composure. “We both go to U.A.”

“I remember him from the Sports Festival.”

An ice cream cart pulls into the park. Feeling in the mood for a sweet treat, you ask if anyone wanted a popsicle stick. Naoyuki requests a cherry flavor while Shinosu shakes his head. Once out of earshot, the boy’s hostility breaks through his friendly façade.

“Break up with her.”

Shinsou blinks. “What?”

“You heard me.” Naoyuki puffs out his chest in a bravado fashion. Shinsou chuckles and leans back against the tree trunk. “I’m serious! I saw her first, and you stole her from me!”

“Listen, kid,” Shinsou yawns. “It’s adorable that you have a puppy crush, but we’re not breaking up any time soon.”

“I’m not leaving until you do!”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“No, I don’t—” A daze expression falls across Naoyuki’s face. His eyes are gray, and his mouth hangs wide open. A little drool rolls down his chin. Shinsou nonchalantly scratches the back of his neck.

“I want you to go home.”

Naoyuki is an obedient soldier; he numbly turns around and staggers away. Shinsou sighs as he watches the annoying flea disappear behind the green hills. You bounce back with two popsicles in hand. Your eyes search for Naoyuki and pout, “Where did he go?”

“His friends stopped by.” Shinsou rubs his eye. “They asked if he wanted to play. Kid said ‘yeah’ and left.”

“Aww…he forget his popsicle.” You lower yourself on the blanket. “Do you want it?”

Shinsou shrugs. “Might as well.”

He reaches over to grab the treat. You snuggle beside him and happily enjoy the sweet popsicle. Shinsou drapes his arm over your shoulders as he replays the conversation in his head…

…and a tiny smirk curls on his lips.

Kaminari

Loud music blares through the speakers scattered around the room. You adjust the laser tag vest and make sure everything is working correctly. For weeks Kaminari suggested doing something fun with the rest of the gang. His idea of fun is holding a friendly game of laser tag.

“Self-care, guys!” He chimes and ultimately wins everyone over. Yes, even Bakugou, after Sero gaslights him by saying he’ll be the first one out. In typical fashion, Bakugou yells he’ll go and beat all their asses. Outside the game room, Bakugou glares at the tape dispenser.

“I’m taking you down.”

“We’re on the same team, bro!”

You snicker at the interaction. Kaminari stands beside you and opens his mouth to say something when a little boy’s voice interrupts him. His smile brightens when you wave.

“Hey, Naoyuki! What are you doing here?”

“My friend’s older cousin invited me for some laser tag,” he pipes and shows off his gear. “We’re waiting for Game Room 2 to be ready.”

“No way!” A thumb jerks over your shoulder. “My friends and I are playing in Game Room 2 also. Guess you’re on the other team.”

Kaminari slings his arm around you. “Let’s hope you guys know how to duck and cover. We got a ticking time bomb on our team.”

You slap his chest. “Ignore him, Naoyuki. He’s kidding.”

Kaminari sends a lopsided grin, and the boy politely laughs. However, his fake smile falters when the arm does not let go of you. The closeness bothers him. “Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, this is Denki, my boyfriend,” you clarify; Kaminari beams like a happy puppy—he’ll never get tired of you saying that. Suddenly you remember something. “Damn, I forgot my blaster doesn’t work. Let me go change it real quick before the match starts!”

As you sprint away, Naoyuki marches forward, which takes Kaminari by surprise. He arches an eyebrow at the pudgy finger angrily shaking below him. Usually, Kaminari is excellent with kids; they love him! Except for Naoyuki, whose menacing face almost puts Bakugou’s to shame.

“Uhhh, you okay there, buddy?”

“She belongs with me.”

The words take a moment to sink in Kaminari’s head. Soon, the teenager laughs as if Naoyuki told a hilarious joke. He wipes his imaginary tears away and slowly realizes that the boy is serious. Kaminari awkwardly coughs into the tense air.

“Ummm…you do know she’s too old for you, kiddo.”

“Like that will stop me,” Naoyuki snorts. A sweat-drop rolls down Kaminari’s forehead. Seconds later, another finger points at the stunned teen. “Let’s make a deal: if you win, she’s all yours. But if I win, then you two break up.”

“Fine,” Kaminari agrees and places his hand on Naoyuki’s shoulder. The boy jumps when he feels a tiny zap—an alarm rings. Naoyuki frantically pats his vest and panics as his sensors malfunction.

“What did you do?!”

“Sorry, bro. All is fair in love and war!”

And man, Kaminari is here to win this war.

Thank you for reading! My first story for the Hero Camp Bingo event will be uploaded this weekend!! Stay tune for that!

#bakugou katsuki x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #kaminari denki x reader #bakugou x reader #shinsou x reader #kaminari x reader #bakugou katsuki #shinsou hitoshi #kaminari denki #drabble #200 followers

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adeptune01 · 3 years

Text

Assorted OTP Prompts

I worked so hard to be where I am and I’m not going to let someone take that from me

Our bathrooms have really thin walls so we sing duets in the shower together

I forgot my sled in the park only to come back and find out you’re using it

I ran away from home and knocked on the wrong door but you want to take me in anyway

I come here when I want to be alone and I didn’t think anyone knew about it so where the hell did you come from

I met you at a bar but it turns out you’re a soldier and you’re getting shipped into combat tomorrow

I’m an EMT and you come in too many times please stop hurting yourself

Got lost in a corn maze after dark and it turns out you’re just as lost

We accidently switched luggage at an airport

The Ferris wheel broke when the cart was at the top and now we’re stuck here

We’re stuck in a time loop and you’re the only other person who seems to be aware of it how do we fix this

We were hanging out when the power went out and we made a pillow fort and played board games and were having so much fun that we didn’t realize the power was back on until a few hours later

My car broke down on the side of the road in the middle of the night and you might be a serial killer but I really need a ride so....

Ghosts aren’t real so stop whining about exploring over here and oh god what was that noise

Hold me I’m cold... oh god you are VERY close is that my heart or freaking sonic stuck in my chest

Laser tagging push me into a corner, kiss me, shoot me, and walk away

The power went out and I was trying to watch the finale of my favorite show and I know you hate it but can I please your tv to finish it

I’m scared of the dark and you’re scared of storms and the power went out during a hurricane

#writing #writers on tumblr #write #whump prompt #dialogue prompt #story prompt #otp #otp things #otp prompts #ao3fic #ao3 writer #fanfic #fandom #ship

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aespawpaq · 3 years

Text

Netflix and Chill (3)

IMAX and CLIMAX

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Sunghoon gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags; sh is an avid history channel viewer, sh hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, sh goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

Sunghoon sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Sunghoon’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

Sunghoon scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Sunghoon greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Isa swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Isa, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Sunghoon picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Sunghoon’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Sunghoon invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Sunghoon not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Sunghoon is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Sunghoonie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Sunghoon was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Sunghoon rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Sunghoon, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Sunghoon’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Sunghoon apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Sunghoon’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Sunghoon laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

——

You rarely use the key Sunghoon gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Sunghoon’s house were either the result of Sunghoon picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Sunghoon inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

His mom was going to kill him.

“ Sunghoon?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Sunghoon had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, hoon, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Heeseung would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Sunghoon goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Sunghoon doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Sunghoon’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Sunghoon doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “hoon, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Sunghoon’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Sunghoon sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

Sunghoon scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Sunghoon sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Sunghoon crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Sunghoon’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Sunghoon quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Sunghoon clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Sunghoon will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Sunghoon is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Sunghoon has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Sunghoon scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Sunghoon falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

Sunghoon says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Sunghoon gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Sunghoon sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Sunghoon laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away. His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Sunghoon teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Sunghoon has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

Sunghoon groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Sunghoon preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Sunghoon, you always came first. Sunghoon’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Sunghoon was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Sunghoon grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Sunghoon’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Sunghoon kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Sunghoon was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Sunghoon rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Sunghoon’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

Any other day Sunghoon would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today… well.

You were playing a different game.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

The action makes Sunghoon scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Sunghoon, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Sunghoon never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Sunghoon had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Sunghoon gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

Sunghoon was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Sunghoon leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Sunghoon smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Sunghoon sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Sunghoon hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Sunghoon doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Sunghoon adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Sunghoon‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Sunghoon, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Sunghoon finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

Sensing your uncertainty, Sunghoon tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Sunghoon kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Sunghoon takes your wrists in his hands.

Sunghoon mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Sunghoon that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Sunghoon smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “hoon!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Sunghoon’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Sunghoon either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “ Sunghoon, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Sunghoon wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

Sunghoon chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Sunghoon reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Sunghoon’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

Behind you Sunghoon tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Sunghoon scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

“And?” Sunghoon asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Sunghoon snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Sunghoon barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “hoon— Sunghoon!”

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Sunghoon nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Park Sunghoon, maybe Isa was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Sunghoon is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Sunghoon responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your hoon now.”

“My… hoon,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Sunghoon chases both your second orgasms.

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Sunghoon hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Sunghoon catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

Sunghoon laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don’t wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Park Sunghoon,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Sunghoon’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

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thotsforvillainrights · 4 years

Note

It might be hard to do, but do you have any fluffy AfO headcanons?

(Hard to do, nah. I’m here for the AFO stans and I got just what you’re looking for!)

~AFO Fluff~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

-While he doesn’t lack in the romance department, he’s not as touchy as you might have been led to believe. Despite this, he is still very sweet in his own way. That’s a big shocker coming from the leader of all villains. Yes, he’s fluffy but only in the face of you. This means you’re very special to make a man like this bend any and all rules to make you happy. He’d steal the moon from the sky and hand it to you if he had a quirk to do so. So for now he’ll just settle for being fluffy in the ways he knows how

-One of his ways to be affectionate can be expected through him showering you with gifts. He’s a hard one to get away from that mindset, so if you don’t like constant gifts you’ll need to let him know that over and over. Of course he never stops so what would be the point of it all? Anyway, he’s down for buying you whatever you think to ask him for. You could live like royalty if you wanted (but let’s say you’re humble and decide no to)! If you think he’s bad right now by surprising you with random gifts daily, just wait until it’s a holiday or your birthday! You probably end up getting so much stuff that you have to sell some of it, which he doesn’t mind because he’s just going to get you more things to begin. The only way to slow this down would be if you asked him to buy you food instead, or maybe just give you a weekly allowance. Even then, he’ll turn it into a daily allowance of around 100-200 dollars...which adds up over time

-Use the money to buy him something instead. He’s not hard to shop for. New cologne, new suits or ties, new shoes, maybe a few cuff links or something. Hell, even socks are just dandy to him. He knows it comes from your heart so it doesn’t matter

-People may not know this but he’s actually very supportive when it comes to you. This can be seen in his behavior towards his young ward, Tomura. No matter how many times Shigaraki has messed up with the League, AFO is still there supporting him and reassuring him that he will not fail. When it comes to you, he’s even more supportive than you could imagine. He’s good when it comes to sitting you down and having long speeches about how things will be okay and about how you mustn't give up. He knows in moments like these that his words mean more than any gifts. Therefore, he strokes your back gently and rubs away any tears you might have.

-He makes it a special rule that you must have date night once a week. He’ll even call off whatever villain work he has just to take you out on a date because he feels this is very essential towards the relationship. You’re going to have to take time and show him more simple styles of dates because the only ones he’s familiar with range from fancy dinner dates, to even fancier dinner dates. Go ahead and get him to try and dress a little more casual. Take him to see laser tag, go carts, the fair, mall food court dates, outdoor picnics, etc. I’m sure he won’t be able to say ‘no’ to you on date night.

-Surprisingly a cuddler

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

TIp Jar: https://cash.app/$YuTakeyama

#all for one #AFO #bnha afo #lov #league of villains #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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excuseme-howdareyou · 4 years

Text

Birthday Prompt: Jason

@redhoodrage

They did it again. And by 'they', he meant Bruce.

Jason didn't know if he wanted to curse, sigh, or blow up the damn thing. Maybe all three? Either way, the fancy wrapped box sitting in front of his door, done up in shiny gray paper and yellow ribbon was doing way to much to fuel his anger. And the little tag on top, with just a 'B', was a bit much.

He just got off patrol, and all he wanted to do was go home, sleep for ten hours, eat his weight in chili dogs when he woke up, and enjoy an entirely Bat-free day all to himself. Was that too much to ask? So with a grumble and a glare, he nudged the box (probably full of something stupid and expensive and fancy) with his foot a good couple feet to the right.

Once the box was out of the way, Jason unlocked his front door and stepped inside. He left the present sitting outside in the hallway.

A minute later, his door opened back up again and his arm reached out. A yellow sticky note with the word "FREE" was slapped on top, then he retreated back into his apartment.

.........................................

Jason was a light sleeper. He knew this. His friends knew this. Everyone knew this. So who in their right mind would break into his apartment at 4am, when he's only had two hours of sleep, and much more likely to blow someone's head off?!

Cassandra Cain. That's who.

Cassandra and her idiotic girlfriend Stephanie Brown. If Jason didn't have such respect for Cass, he would've called them the Dumbass Duo. But that nickname was reserved for Dick Grayson and Wally West. So it was just Cassandra and the Dumbass.

Cass was the only one skilled enough to get into his apartment at 4AM. Steph was the only one dumb enough to actually do it.

"Fuck off!" Jason roared at them, leaping out of bed with the knives he kept under his pillow for exactly this kind of trespassing. Cass silently caught the knife he threw at her face, but Steph eeped and ducked at the next one that came flying at her.

"Whoa, hey!" she yelled, ducking down behind his dresser," We come in peace!"

Upon realizing that they weren't ninjas/assassins/monsters/Untitled sent to kill him, Jason lowered the third projectile in his hand (his trusty laser-sharpened hunting knife) but did not put it down. "What," he breathed in deep, trying to blink the green away from his eyes," the fuck are you two doing here?"

Cass, still in her all black suit and really not making Jason feel all that better about the two of them breaking into his place in the middle of the night, hauled Steph out from her hiding place. "Umm, happy birthday?" the blonde laughed nervously and held up a purple gift bag. From... somewhere, Cass produced a matching gift bag in pastel pink.

Jason could only stare incredulously at the two of them. "Get out..." he whispered.

Steph blinked," But aren't you gonna-"

"GET OUT!" he roared at them.

They left, leaving the presents on the dresser.

Once they were out of sight, and Jason wasn't seeing as much Lazarus green, he took a couple deep breaths. Then he grabbed the two gift bags, walked up to the window which they exited out through-

-and from the 21st floor, dropped both bags out the window and slammed it shut.

...............................................

"Well of course he kicked you guys out!" Duke groaned, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm," What kind of crazy...and at 4 in the.... did it just not occur to you that breaking into someone's bedroom in the dead of night is just kinda this side of creepy?"

Both Cass and Steph had the decency to look ashamed.

"We wanted to be the first ones to wish him happy birthday," came Steph's explanation," He hasn't... I don't think he's had a birthday since he was put six feet under and dug his way back out."

Not exactly a tactful way to say it, especially on such a sensitive matter, but... well she wasn't wrong.

"And it's Alfred's birthday too," Duke murmured thoughtfully," Didn't they use to celebrate their birthdays together or something?"

From across the room, Tim piped up," They used to bake cakes together."

A contemplative silence fell over the room. "No," Tim deadpanned," You're not gonna succeed in whatever you're thinking."

"I didn't say anything!" Steph protested.

"But you were thinking it."

"Thinking what?" of course, Dick chose that moment to walk in, rubbing his wet hair with a towel.

"It's Jason's birthday and Steph and Cass tried to give him a present but he refused to accept it," Duke told him, as it didn't even occur to him to not mention the elephant in the room to the man who loved elephants more than anything.

At the words 'Jason's birthday', Dick froze and his eyes lit up. At the word 'present', a devious smile spread over his face.

"Dick, No," Tim directed his glare over to him.

"Dick, yes!" said man just grinned all the wider," It's Little Wing's birthday, we should celebrate it!"

The energy in the room now sufficiently reignited, both he and Steph smiled widely and bounced ideas off each other.

"Birthday party?"

"Nah, too big. Family dinner?"

"We could make both him and Alfred matching cakes."

"I've already got them both presents."

"So did we. But... Jason threw ours out the window."

"He did what?"

"Well can you blame him?" Tim sighed," Jason's not gonna come to a birthday dinner here at the Manor, Dick." He tried to explain, and wow it was really hard to explain this to a man who looked too much like a kicked puppy," He hates it here, you know that." Jason had made it plenty and obviously clear anytime he was forced to so much as come near the place.

"And he's not going to accept any gifts you guys give him. It's Jason. He's paranoid and temperamental and he's not going to trust anything that comes from us."

Dick thought a moment, rubbing his chin in deep contemplation. Tim didn't like that look. "So you're saying..." Dick hummed thoughtfully," ...that Jason will only accept a gift from someone he trusts? Someone he actually, truly considers family?"

'Oh no,' was all Tim had time to think before both Dick and Steph exclaimed," Challenge accepted!"

"Challenge?"

Oh no, Tim thought again as Damian descended down the stairs with an intrigued expression on his face. "What challenge?" Damian demanded.

................................

Jason straight up buried his head under his pillow when there was a persistant knocking at his door. 'Go away,' he pleaded and tried to fall back asleep,' I'm not here.'

"I know you're in there, Jason!" came Dick's voice from out in the hallway," You can't hide in there forever!"

'I can, and I will,' Jason grumbled and rolled over.

The knocking continued.

"Fuck off, Dick!" he yelled.

"No, it's your birthday and we're going to celebrate!" came Dick's reply," Now open up or I'm going to come in whether you like it or not."

There was no answer, so Dick waited all of three minutes before picking the lock. (Took a couple minutes more though. Little Wing was getting good at arming electrified locks)

The apartment was empty when he got inside.

.....................................

The day was hot and muggy and Jason loved it. Gotham would probably never feel as warm as the tropics (except during heat waves, but even then those were just uncomfortable) but he liked the warm and if it was sunny and warm, Jason could be found outside soaking it in.

Annoying, persistent Bats aside, not a bad day for his birthday. Last night he'd successfully taken down a small drug ring, got a couple messages on his phone from Roy and Kori wishing him happy birthday, and the Joker was locked up in Arkham. Now all that was missing was-

-Jason stopped dead in his tracks.

Tim Drake stood in front of Jason's favorite hot dog cart, where the owner made the best chili-dogs, with an almost expectant expression his face.

Part of Jason -a large part- wanted to spin on his heel and just march away from Tim and his stupid face and everything else Bat. But his stomach was protesting loudly and he mentally swore at Dick because he hadn't had a chance to grab breakfast before fleeing out his own bedroom window.

"I hate you," he hissed as he passed Tim entirely to get him some chili-dogs.

Tim didn't look too upset about it. "Mmhmm," he hummed, as if didn't believe a word Jason said. "So who's all harassed you so far?" he asked.

"Including you?" Jason added with a glare," Dick, Cass, Steph, and Bruce."

That last one seemed to surprise the brat. "Bruce stopped by to see you already?" he blinked," I thought he was still asleep."

Jason took a bite of one of his three chili-dogs ('The best chili dogs in town.') and very purposely didn't offer one to Tim. "Left a present on my doorstep," he answered and walked away. Tim, the asshole, kept in step with him. Though Jason took a little glee in the fact that for every one of his steps, Tiny Tim had to take two.

"What'd he get you?" Tim asked, genuinely curious," It's always something stupidly practical and mission-related. Last year he got Dick a thermal insulated Nightwing suit with built in heaters."

Jason shrugged. "Dunno. I put a ‘free’ sticker on it and left it outside." So yeah, that had definitely been taken by some stranger already.

"And I heard you threw Cass and Steph's presents out the window."

Finishing off the last of his first chili-dog, Jason turned and gave Tim the stink eye. "And if you try to do anything for my birthday, I'm gonna throw you out the window."

Tim just scoffed; not like it would be the first time. "Sorry, you're not on my list of 'People I Buy Presents For'," he replied," But I suppose I do have some kind of birthday gift for you..."

At Jason's groan of despair and annoyance, he couldn't help but laugh. "Just a warning, you drama queen," Tim added," Dick and Steph sorta... made it into a competition..."

"What kind of competition?"

"The kind where everyone in the family is going to try and get you to accept a birthday gift. The first one you accept is the winner, and you've officially come back into the fold."

"....Fuck."

..........................................

"I hear it's your birthday, ya big lug."

Great. Now he's being harassed while out grocery shopping. Clutching his basket of food closer, Jason prayed for patience before turning around and looking at Harper Row. "Whoever told you that was lying," he said.

Harper looked like she couldn't decide if she wanted to laugh or scoff. "I'll be sure to tell Alfred that," she snarked back and ouch- She really knew where to hit him hard. "Anyways, I already gave Alfred his gift, so..." she held out a little red box with a white bow on top.

"Happy birthday."

Now, Jason didn't mind Harper. Not really. They never really hung out or talked, and as far as Jason knew she hadn't really done anything to piss him off. Hell, she wasn't even a Robin which went miles in his book. But then Tim's warning this morning about the competition rang through his head and Jason would be damned before he lets anyone of the Batfamily think he's one of them.

So without a word, he took the box out of her hand (she seemed genuinely surprised at that) then turned right around and found a little kid about 5 standing a little bit down the aisle.

"Happy birthday, buddy," he smiled widely at the little boy and held out the box," Here's a gift from the Red Hood, okay?" The little boy, staring up at him with wide awed eyes, clutched the red present to his chest before running off yelling," Mommy! The Red Hood gave me a present!"

Jason sauntered off out of the aisle -wouldn't do to have the mom come back and find him- with Harper on his heels.

"You know there was a taser in there, right?" she asked skeptically.

......................................

"Here."

Well, it wasn't the rudest way in which someone's shoved something in his face, but it was pretty far up there. Damian 'Demon Brat' Wayne looked like he'd be anywhere else when he sat down on the city bus with Jason and held out a perfectly wrapped present.

Jason Todd never thought he'd see the day in which Damian would willingly ride public transportation.

"Nope," he said, largely ignoring the present being shoved in his face.

The scowl on the kid's face was highly amusing though. "Just accept the damn gift," he snarled at him.

"Language," Jason found himself retorting before really realizing it," And I'm not taking it. I know about your guys' stupid contest and I'm not having any part of it."

Damian was oddly silent.

Incensed, Jason's scowl was even more impressive. "You guys seriously think you can just buy me back with some stupid things on my birthday and pretend like the past nine years hasn't happened? I know Dick's an idiot, but I expected better of the rest of you."

Damian still didn't say anything and for five city blocks, their bus ride continued in silence.

When they came to the next bus stop, the brat stood up and walked off without another word. 'Huh, not even an argument for once?' Jason thought. It was odd, for sure, but he decided to count his blessings and not dwell on it.

.......................................

All he saw was a hint of yellow, a smidgen of black...

...and the instant Jason saw Signal drop down in front of him, he threw a brick at his head.

.......................................

There was another box sitting in front of his door when he got home. This time, it was big and bright and blue. He didn't even have to look at the tag to know it came from Dick. He sighed, a put upon sigh that rattled down to his bones, and nudged the box away from his door with his foot, just like he'd done for Bruce's.

It was large and bright and had it been just a square foot bigger, he would've half expected Dick Grayson to have squeezed himself inside only to pop out with a confetti gun like some kind of smiley jack-in-the-box.

He really wouldn't put it past Dick.

So he dug his grocery receipt out of his pocket and a marker. And just like he did for Bruce's, he wrote FREE on the back of the paper, shoved it under the ribbon so it wouldn't blow away, and left it there in the hallway.

....................................

Inside his apartment is....

Well, the first thing Jason noticed was the smell of something herbal and sweet. He knew that smell. And he knew for a fact he didn't have any Oolong tea in his cupboards.

"Ah, I see you've returned with groceries, Master Jason," came Alfred's voice from the kitchen," I hope you remembered to get milk. It would appear you are out."

Wide eyed, confused, and just a little bit apprehensive, Jason stepped into his own kitchen. And yep, he wasn't hallucinating. There was Alfred, black suit and all, with a pot of water boiling on the stove, Jason's tea pot sitting on the counter, and a mug of tea in his hands.

Also spread out on the counter was a number of baking ingredients such as flour and sugar.

Jason set his bags down on the table, staring at Alfred. "What..." his voice squeaked and he cleared his throat," What are you doing here, Alfred?"

"It's my birthday, and I have the day off," Alfred answered in his usual no-nonsense tone, as if Jason had asked him what the weather was like outside. Then he poured some tea into another mug that Jason hadn't even realized was there. "Tea?" he held it out to him.

Still baffled, but he did love Alfred's Oolong tea, and well... he did love Alfred, Jason silently took the cup from him.

Alfred waited until Jason took his first long sip before saying," Happy birthday, Master Jason."

"Not you too!" Jason groaned.

There was a smile on Alfred's face as he sipped his own tea before setting the cup down on the counter. "Do you know why I'm here, Master Jason?" he asked. Alfred apparently decided to busy himself with unbagging Jason's groceries while said man tried to come up with an answer.

"Because you're in on this competition too?" he guessed sourly.

Pulling out the milk and a couple cans of soup, Alfred replied succintly," Because what I want for my birthday is to spend the day with my grandson on his own birthday."

..."I'm not really your grandson," Jason mumbled into his tea. His face was red and he felt warm and cozy inside, but he tried to not let it go to his head. He wasn't really Alfred's family. He wasn't really anybody's family. Family's not exactly his forte and time has proven multiple times that Jason Todd's never really been good at the whole thing.

Alfred shot him a look like he wanted to prove him wrong. "And do you know why everyone is insisting on giving you birthday gifts?" he asked instead.

"Because they want to win the contest?"

"Yes and no."

Great, a cryptic answer. Jason's favorite.

"Because they're a bunch of competetive fools who are bored out of their minds, so Dick and Steph came up with this stupid contest that will occupy them for a day, then everyone will go on with their lives like today never happened," Jason haphazarded a guess.

Alfred very nearly rolled his eyes, but they lit up in surprise when he pulled something unexpected out of one of the grocery bags. "Hello, what is this?"

It was a little white box with yellow ribbon, professionally wrapped, and Jason recognized it immediately. "That little brat!" he exclaimed," He must've snuck it into my bag on the bus!"

That would finally explain why Damian left without a fight.

With the knowing little twinkle back in his eye, Alfred set the present down and turned to Jason. "They want to celebrate your birthday because they care, Master Jason," he finally said," Yes, there are sadly few in this family who are any good at actually talking to each other, but you must understand that everyone, Master Bruce especially, do things for each other because it's the only way they can show that they care."

Jason opened his mouth to argue, but didn't dare interrupt Alfred. "They try to give you gifts because they know you won't accept an invitation to a family dinner," Alfred continued," Master Bruce gives practical gifts because he wants all of you to be safe. Master Dick gives hugs because to him, physical contact is how he shows his love. Master Tim doesn't get gifts for people, but he will set aside time to spend with those he cares for. And for this..." He held up Damian's little gift," While yes there is a competition going on, Master Damian snuck this into your bag not because he wanted to win some silly challenge, but because he simply wanted you to have it."

"But even more importantly, you must know this: What is the reward at the end of this contest?"

Significantly cowed, Jason sipped his tea and thought. He never really thought of it in that way. That other people showed the way they cared in different ways.

But it was still a hard pill to swallow.

"Bragging rights?" he replied, more of a quiet question than an answer.

But even still, Alfred smiled at him," No my dear boy. They get you. That's why they try so hard, because they want you know you're still part of the family."

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